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actualbird · 2 years ago

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Congratulations on the second volume of The Behavioural Studies of NXX!!!!! I adored having all your analyses in a compilation to read through, and I've been having a blast rereading them and remembering what my state of mind when they were released was. Your analyses of these characters have influenced and shaped my understanding of them and in turn gotten me to interpret them more critically in a way no other fandom, let alone single writer, has and I think that's an incredible accomplishment.

So far, I've only reached the Rosa playlist analysis, but that actually got me thinking a bit about her, particularly the bit about her wanting to be the main character and the bit you quoted from 5-3. Admittedly the reason why I thought about her desure to be the protagonist stems from slightly comedic reasons because uhhh //glances at the water tank she and Artem got trapped in, Luke personal story 3, Sauna,,,,,

Yeah I wonder if she'd wish quite as hard to be the main character had she known these things were in her future. Something else that was wild to me about this is that the case that set the wheels in motion for all this to happen, for mc becoming the main character, was a case about water poisoning. It's not as simple as that of course and showed ToT's brand of evil that's always grey and not black or white even all the way back then, but ultinately the case was still about water poisoning, which is So Mundane compared to all the dangerous drugs and murder and black market auctions that are going around now. I don't think mc regrets her actions. She's shown that more than enough in the main story, you've even quoted her own thoughts that indicate she's firm in her resolve. But when I think back to main story 1 mc, I don't quite think she feels the same way.

One thing that stuck out to me while going through main story 1 again is the choice you need to make in the trial section, to present the incriminating footage or not, where she can hesitates to present the necessary evidence for justice to be served, and can continue to hesitate if the player chooses not to present it, where she needs to be encouraged by Vernon Green himself to present it and ensure justice is served.

Yes, this was a choice and ultinately she was thinking more about how it would impact Vernon Green than the perpetrator, but it still shows a bit of uncertainty regarding delivering justice in these difficult situations. I think the fact that this is even a Choice matters a lot, actually, because in cases with arguably more at stake like Main Story 3 where an entire child whose development has been stunted due to taking illegal medicine's mother is about to be convicted for murdering the person responsible for said child's condition, it's not even a choice to waver in pursuing justice.

I wonder if Main Story 1 mc would've been able to do the same thing, and think about Main Story 6 where what Irene Burke went through was so horrible people from all corners of the fandom were debating, sometimes even fighting, over whether she should've been allowed to get away with her murders. I really, really doubt main story 1 mc would've been able to remain firm in her convictions.

I think reading through your analysis and in turn Main Story 1 made me realise that mc's developed a lot too, even if it doesn't really seem like it at first. I used to think that mc, while she definitely has developed a little, didn't really grow as much as the NXX boys due to her status as an intended self insert, but I see her in Main Story 1 and her in the current story multiple years later and I'm a little floored at how her conviction has grown. She still lets herself feel and empathise with the culprits and the people close to them, but she's never wavered in the same way she did in Main Story 1,

Xgjxiyfiyf Sorry for overtaking this praise ask about the journal with my own thoughts!!!! To bring this back around to its intended point I guess it shows how much your analyses have impacted the way I view these characters that I can even write this out. It's enriched my experience with ToT in a way I never thought possible. I think the Rosa playlist analysis isn't one that I actually read before because back then I wasn't super into mc as a character or character playlists, but getting to read it now really shows how much I was missing out on. Another thing I have to thank you and the journal for, I suppose.

🌌

WAHHHH oh my gosh, hi milkyway anon!! long time no see, and hhhHH thank you SO MUCH for reading “The Journal of NXX Investigation Team Behavioral Studies: Vol 2” and for your kind words about it ;w;

on your thoughts about mc gOSH i dont think i have anything to add because i so much agree!!! main story 1 mc and main story 10 mc are very different people because of how much she had developed. i love your use of the word "conviction" because thats exactly it. mc started with a simple case, she started with doubts and hesitation, but as the cases got messier and worse like....hesitation was not an option, not if she wanted to continue bringing the justice she so stalwartly believes in. as the cases got worse, she stepped up to the challenge, for the lack of better wording. i think main story 1!mc would be so proud and amazed at how independent and capable main story!10 mc is

i also think she'd be scared

because YEAH, HOO BOY, A LOT HAS HAPPENED TO MC BECAUSE SHE IS THE MC.

i agree that earlier!mc wouldnt have been as firm but thats another reason narratively i guess why the cases were upped and upped in stakes. both for the mounting tension of the overarching story, but to get mc to grow. and grow she did, as the circumstances of the cases got heavier and heavier.

it's kinda like that metaphor about slowly boiling a crab, yknow. we went from mc in main story 1 who hesitated in presenting key evidence, to mc in main story 10 who [main story 10 spoilers] in The Sauna, upon thinking she was Gonna Die, immediately started thinking of how to Leave Evidence On Her Body for other to find by using a Branding Iron On Herself

main story 1!mc: WHO ARE YOU?!?!???

main story 10!mc, trembling a bit from the Trauma: im you but suuuuuper metal 🤘

HVSJFHSVKDJFHDS JOKES ASIDE, it's a Whole Ride remembering how far mc has come because she has! even if this game is more focused on the boys' development, it is unmistakeable that shes grown along with them, and for that, im so proud of her. i dont think she'd ever regret where her life took her, she just doesnt seem like the type, and for all her doubts in the beginning and even the new doubts she gets later on, mc still holds strong to her conviction and dedication.

in conclusion: gosh dang i love miss mc rosa qiangwei <3

thank you again for reading!!! and for this lovely ask :DDD

#asks #i think The Sauna Incident should get capitalized like marius' The Basement Incident #milkyway!anon #commints

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omegaphilosophia · 8 hours ago

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The Philosophy of Grace

The philosophy of grace reflects on the nature of unearned favor, benevolence, and the conditions under which forgiveness, generosity, or beauty can be freely given. Though often associated with theology, grace also has deep ethical, aesthetic, and existential dimensions in secular philosophy.

Core Dimensions of the Philosophy of Grace:

1. Theological Roots

In Christian philosophy, grace refers to God's unconditional love and mercy, given freely to humanity. Thinkers like St. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas developed the idea that divine grace is not earned by merit, but bestowed through love. This highlights the paradox of justice and mercy—a gift that transcends desert.

2. Grace as Ethical Generosity

Philosophers have considered grace as moral excess—acts of kindness, forgiveness, or beauty that go beyond obligation. For example, Jacques Derrida and others see grace as a kind of gift that disrupts transactional thinking. It is ethically significant because it breaks the logic of reciprocity and highlights the possibility of true altruism.

3. Aesthetic Grace

In aesthetics, grace refers to a certain fluidity, harmony, or elegance—the effortless beauty of motion or design. For example, Edmund Burke distinguished between the sublime (powerful, awe-inspiring) and the graceful (delicate, pleasing). Grace in this context represents a kind of beauty that seems effortless and natural, inspiring admiration.

4. Grace and Forgiveness

Philosophically, grace and forgiveness are intertwined. Grace offers a model of forgiveness that does not demand repentance or reparation. This is controversial: some argue that such forgiveness might be unjust, while others say it is the highest form of love and freedom.

5. Existential and Humanistic Grace

In existentialist and post-secular thought, grace can be seen as a moment of transcendence in human life—when one chooses to act generously, to affirm life, or to let go of resentment. Simone Weil and Paul Tillich discussed grace as an experience of being accepted unconditionally, offering existential healing in a fragmented world.

6. Grace vs. Merit

Grace challenges the modern emphasis on achievement, control, and fairness. It introduces a language of vulnerability and gift-giving, where not everything must be earned or repaid. This leads to questions about social justice, inequality, and the space for compassion in competitive systems.

Summary:

The philosophy of grace spans ethics, theology, aesthetics, and human relations. It invites reflection on generosity beyond obligation, beauty beyond effort, and forgiveness beyond justice. Whether seen as divine or human, grace opens a space for unconditional acceptance, offering both hope and challenge in a world often ruled by merit and utility.

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kholkate · 6 months ago

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Watson stayed up the night going through his old copies of the Edinburgh medical journal; he was pleased to find the article on Burkes that Ham had told him about. He read where the man was in his late 30s and had gotten his education in Germany, he specialized in experimental and difficult surgeries. This piqued his interest, he looked forward to meeting this man, someone who seemed so talented yet so cruel.

With morning light starting to come through the windows he felt rather worn out, it would take coffee to help him get a second wind. Putting his journals away he went in to see about his patient, he saw that Holmes was awake and rubbing his tightly wrapped rib cage.

“In pain?” Watson queried. He checked his pulse and then his head for fever.

“Yes and tired of being in this bed. You haven't slept,” Holmes commented, looking up at his friend.

“Your fever seems to have gone down, I'm pleased with that. As for your being in bed, I'm sorry but you'll just have to be satisfied here for a while longer. And yes, I was up all night, doing some research,” Watson said. He set about drawing some cocaine into a syringe, though he knew Homles could do it himself he couldn't help but assist.

“Oh? There was information you didn't tell me that your friend told you?” Holmes asked, though he felt confident that he knew.

“Yes. He made mention that Burkes had been featured in an Edinburgh medical journal. I spent the night looking for it and read up on him. It will give me a slight advantage when I meet him today,” Watson informed. He injected Holmes with the drug.

“Do remember to tell me every detail of your encounter with him. Try to take mental note of everything,” Holmes encouraged. A look of relief washed over his face as the drug was once again in his system.

“I will try. We must try to dispel of this practice quickly, Holmes. Ham told me Burkes wasn't in yesterday because he was out to see a patient, his next victim no doubt,” Watson said. He took the syringe to put away and had his back to his friend as he spoke.

“Already at work then… blast this rib!” Sherlock pounded his fist on the bed in frustration.

“You mustn't upset yourself. You also must eat today, if you ever expect to get well,” Watson said. He lingered by the door as he prepared to depart for the day.

“I am in no mood to eat,” Sherlock said, eyes brooding.

“You need nourishment, Holmes. But I haven't the time nor the will to argue with you about it now. I will see you a little later,” Watson bid.

“Do be careful, old friend,” Holmes warned.

Watson nodded and left, bundling up in a coat, hat and gloves as the snow fell outside.

The ride to the hospital was quiet and cold and he was more than glad to be going through the doors of the hospital. He once again took to the maze to get to his friend's office, this time when he arrived Hamstead wasn't alone, another younger man sat by him having a cuppa.

“John! Good morning. You're just in time, this is the man you want to meet, Dr. Burkes this is Dr. Watson, an admirer of yours,” Hamstead introduced. He motioned them one to another.

Burkes stood and extended his arm. “Dr. Watson, it's good to meet you,” he said.

“Dr. Burkes, the pleasure is all mine. I have wanted to meet you as I have an interest in your studies,” Watson said. He took in the younger man before him, blonde with blue eyes and strong jaw, formidable physically.

“Oh? In surgeries then?” Burkes asked, he smiled but it didn't touch his eyes.

“Yes. You have done remarkable work and I hope that you might have some time to talk about it with me?” Watson asked.

“Oh of course! I would love to talk with you about it. Why don't you allow me to treat you to tea? You can be my guest at my club,” “Burkes suggested, amiable.

“Oh well, that's very kind of you. Thank you, doctor,” Watson said.

“Just allow me to make some rounds and I will have my coachman pull up in the front of the hospital for us,” Burkes said, and he gave Watson a pat on the shoulder.

Watson felt a rush of nerves at that, his opportunity to learn was coming up, he carefully went over questions in his head as he began to slowly walk back to the front of the hospital. Hamstead accompanied him, talking about the latest in influenza treatments, Watson would nod at appropriate internals but didn't speak. They lingered by the door until Burkes rejoined them, this time in coat and hat and they said their goodbyes to Hamstead before going out to the coach that was waiting.

“Dr. Hamstead tells me you served in India, very admirable,” Burkes said.

“It was an honor to serve my country. I have read that you received your medical education in Germany. There are some fine medical colleges there,” Watson brought up.

“Oh yes, I studied in Heidelberg. I may be biased but I think it is the best place to go for surgery techniques,” Burkes commented.

“I have heard good things about Heidelberg University. I haven't performed a surgery since I left the service, I am more of a general practitioner now, but that doesn't mean I am not interested in the latest techniques as you say,” Watson said.

They arrived shortly at the club, entering in a flurry of snow, they found a table easily by the bar once inside. They talked shop while they ate, and Watson almost got caught up in Burkes being that charming person that even he himself had talked about. So when the meal was winding down he knew he had to bring the conversation back to things he wanted to learn.

“This has been such an excellent morning, doctor. I am pleased we met each other,” Burkes smiled, swirling his brandy.

“So am I. And I am glad that your parents could send you to medical school so you could help so many people,” Watson said, watching keenly for reaction.

Burkes immediately looked down and frowned. “Yes… no one understood how I want to help people like them,” he said.

Watson soaked that in, there was definitely a story in that that he knew he had to uncover. Just as he was about to inquire further a waiter came with a message on a tray and gave it to Burkes, he opened it and read it.

“Oh, it appears that I have to go. My latest patient, Mrs. Collins, is in need of me,” Burkes said.

“Oh, that's sad to hear. But it was a pleasure, doctor,” Watson said. Standing, they shook hands.

“I hope to speak with you again. Good day,” Burkes said.

Watson nodded and watched as he walked away, noting how he met up with another man that Watson couldn't see his face. He slowly moved forward from the table to follow them but the boy by the door stopped him to ask if he had his coat, by the time he got out they were gone.

He was disappointed that he couldn't get a look at whoever went off with Dr. Burkes, he thought about it the whole way home. Once to Baker Street he got out of the cab and paid, turning around he saw a man with a cane walking by, he turned to Watson and swung his cane, hitting him with force on the legs.

The man ran away as Watson fell, face going onto the snow covered sidewalk, he could hear the cabbie yelling at the man while he forced himself up to look.

“Are you alright, sir?” The cabbie asked, getting down to help him up.

Watson didn't answer right away, the throbbing of his leg was distracting, it might not have hurt so much had it not been where his old wound was.

“Fine, cabbie. Thank you,” Watson said.

The man helped him to the door and he went in, standing by it a moment to gather himself. He knew whoever had done this to him was the same one who had beaten Holmes and he felt it was the same man from the club. If Holmes knew who that was he wanted to know, before anything could happen to them.

The Case of the Counterfeit Surgeon Chapter 4.

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hells-wells · 3 years ago

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Don't Blame The Movies 4

Scream

1996

Casey Becker and Steve Orth have been found brutally murdered, Who is responsible for this awful act? Who is next? what happens next? Everyone is a suspect, some more than others.

Billy X Rader, Stu X Reader, Billy X Stu X Reader.......... ****Warnings for this chapter----- swearing, jealousy, possessive behaviour, some true crime info drop, mentions of real-life serial killers.

Casey Becker and Steve Orth were brutally murdered last night, the town is in shock, and everyone is on edge. I was sitting in class with Randy when a knock on the door sent everyone silent, the middle-aged male teacher turned “Y/n, it appears to be your turn…”

I was greeted by Dewey’s grim face “Hey.” was all that I could muster, he tried smiling as he lead me to Principal Himbry’s office. “After you.” Dewey motioned to the empty chair, he sat across from you, along with Sheriff Burke, you noted that Principal Himbry stood next to you. “This won’t take long.” You nodded, Himbry was always kind, a little overbearing sometimes but he meant well.

“Did you know Casey Becker?” Burke’s face was unreadable as he watched your every move.

“From around school, yes.” You tried keeping your cool.

“What about Steven Orth?”

“Same thing, we didn’t hang out, so I didn’t really know them.”

“Ah-huh… We’ve been made aware of rumours?”

You sighed “Steve started them, yes.”

“Bet his girlfriend wasn’t too happy about them?”

“Not really...”

“How would you describe your relationship with the two?” “I didn’t have a relationship with either…” Biting your lip trying to figure out the best way to say it “We didn’t click…”

Dewey leaned in “Sheriff, I think that’s all we need?”

Sheriff Burke kept eye contact with you “For now.”

You sighed making your way to the fountain, finding Randy and Stu already there. “Hey…” You sat down on the cold floor, digging through your bag, not that you were hungry after that.

“How did it go?” Randy asked.

“Great…” You sarcastically gave. “Burke didn’t seem impressed with the rumours.”

“Ha! Of course not, you’re a good suspect.”

Both you and Stu glared at him.

“What? I can’t be the only one thinking it?” He protested.

You rolled your eyes “Yeah, well if I’m a suspect then so are you. Remember that fight I saved you from when Steve and his friends wanted to kick your arse?” You pointed it out.

“Fair point, but that gives you more reason.” You could tell he was growing more determined.

“Come on man, does y/n look like she could take out Steven and hang Casey?” He scruffed your hair.

“Hmmm, maybe someone did it for her.”He wondered out loud.

“Considering I can’t even get a date, what makes you think someone would go all Bates for me?” You copied the stabbing motion with the eh eh eh eh sound. "Besides everyone in the group." You smirked.

That made them both laugh “That’s true, welcome to the dateless club!” You high-fived Randy.

“What’s the goss?” Tatum asked walking up.

“How I’m dateless and might be a suspect.” You lightly laughed.

“Well, I can always help with the dating part, not sure about the suspect thing though. I’m sure they had a big list of people that didn’t like them.” She noted while sitting next to Stu.

You nodded “That’s true.”

Billy and Sidney followed behind her, taking their spots on the fountain, the topic didn’t die down, with everyone swapping questions you weren't paying much attention, Tatum's voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“Hunt? Why would they ask if you like to hunt?” Tatum asked the boys, taking another bite of her food.

“I don’t know, they just did.” Stu shrugged.

Randy leaned toward Tatum “It’s because their bodies were gutted”

“Thanks for that Randy” Billy glared at Randy, but quickly switches his gaze to you.

You could see the confusion on her face “They didn’t ask me if like to hunt, did they ask you y/n?”

“No” You mumbled out, trying to think of who would want to kill them, sure you weren’t a big fan but to do that but Tatum was right, it's a big list.

“Because there’s no way a girl could have killed them,” Stu smirked, looking around the group. She stared at Stu “That is so sexist. The killer could easily be female, basic instinct.” Tatum stated.

“That was an ice pick. Not exactly the same.” Randy stole another handful of her snacks, popping one into his mouth.

“Yeah, Casey and Steve were completely hollowed out. Takes a man to do something like that.” Stu mused.

“Or a man’s mentality.” rolling her eyes, she turned to you “Help me out here.”

“There’s Pamula Voorhees and Kathy Bates.” You shrugged.

“How’s that list coming?” Billy asked a small smirk pulled at his lips.

“That’s in the movies, if we argue with true crime there are plenty of female killers. Aileen Wuornos, Lizzie Borden, Belle Gunness and Jane Toppan… that’s not excluding couples like the Ken and Barbie killers, Mayra and Ian Brady, just to name a few.” You smirked back.

“Exactly!” Tatum smiled, her point being made.

“Yeah, yeah.” Randy rolled his eyes “Forgot who we were talking to.”

“How do you gut someone?” Sidney wondered out loud.

Everyone was silent for a moment before Stu cut in “You take a knife and slit them from groin to sternum.” Not understanding how uncomfortable this topic was making Sidney. You weren’t paying attention to everyone else, you were focusing on sid, feeling guilty for not thinking about how this must be bringing back bad memories.

The bell rang, breaking the group's silence, you watched as Tatum ran off after Sidney, dragging Stu along to apologize. “I still say we should be smart and stay in groups!” Randy nudged your elbow.

“I’m not disagreeing but it’s only been two people.” It came out colder than you had meant.

“Because that’s not suspicious,” Randy noted.

“I just think before we go into full panic, we need to wait and see. So far there isn’t a pattern and who’s to say whoever it is, isn’t going after that crowd.” You simply gave.

Randy paused “Famous last words, all I’m saying.” before darting off to class, leaving you and Billy alone.

“Don’t sound too brokenhearted over there.”

You sighed “I do feel bad but not that they died…” he leaned in closer, making sure no one else could hear “Then what?” Your voice was barely above a whisper “It’s the fact that I couldn’t care less…” You paused looking for a reaction “I know, I’m horrible.” He chewed his bottom lip “No, you’re not… Look, they made your life hell, that bitch and her bullshit... Come on.”

The rest of the day went slowly, you were relieved once you were home. The hours went by, and before you knew it, it was night, 7 Pm.

“Yes, I will… Mom, I know how to lock the doors.” You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes as you paced the kitchen. “I can come home.” she sounded unsure.

“I’m fine, you’re due back tomorrow anyway?” You asked while double-checking a side door.

“Maybe, Bob was asking if I could stay a few more days but if you need me home-”

You cut her off “If you’re worried I can try to stay at friends.” It didn’t matter, she wasn’t home often as it was and she would just go on and on about how you ruined her trip if she actually choose you over whoever she was seeing this month. “Alright, just remember to set the alarm and ask if one of the boys can stay over. I’d feel better with one there with you.”

You couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes "Sure, I’ll get right on that.” You replied sarcastically “I’m gonna head off and shower.”

“Ok, love you.”

“Love you too, bye.”

The hot water felt good, and you stayed in there as long as you could, finally stepping out and drying yourself off the sound of the phone cutting through the house

It’s probably Mom again.

“Hello?”

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whatisthiswritingthing · 4 years ago

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I’m Ready - Emily Sonnett x Reader

Prompt: Where R is a single foster parent and it got me thinking.

R has not had a placement for awhile (but still has her foster license) and Sonnett planed the date to ask R to move in with her but when she ask R, R was shocked and telling Sonnett that she doesn’t think it will be a good idea because of her being a foster parent and could get a call at any given time and Sonnett telling R that she does not care and would like to help her out. Then R gets the call for a placement and has to leave the date but Sonnett get up with her and basically like I am going with you and you can’t stop me. When they get to the hospital R sees how gentle and soft Sonnett is with the baby and tells her that yes they will move in her.

Where the R is a single foster parent ( been for a while before they started to date) and while Sonnett and R is on a date and R gets a call about a foster placement (a 3 month old baby) and feels bad for leaving the date but Sonnett insist on coming her and helping her out. But when she founds out that it’s a baby sonnett gets so nervous and scared.

Note, couple prompt rolled into one here.

“She didn’t say anything when you asked?” Kelley asked from the couch, watching Sonnett pace back and forth through the living room, stopping occasionally to randomly adjust everything that was already perfectly in place.

“I didn’t even get a chance!” the blonde turned around quickly, throwing her hands up.

“What do you mean?” the defender tilted her head to the side, Emily flopping her hands back to her sides and beginning to move throughout the room, “slow down and explain what happened.”

Emily sighed, moving to perch on the edge of arm of the couch. Biting the edge of her thumb, she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, “I don’t know,” she shrugged defeated, “we had plans last night, she seemed like she was really looking forward to it. I picked her up, she looked gorgeous,” a small smile on her face, dropping as she continued, “the night was great, dinner was romantic, we were every gross romantic cliché. Then on our walk, I got nervous, and I couldn’t get the words out.”

Kelley moved to the blonde, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back, encouraging her to continue, tugging the thumb away from her teeth, squeezing her hand.

“And she was so sweet about it, said I could talk to her about anything, she had pulled me to the side of the path, held both my hands and just gave me the softest smile,” she paused, smiling softly while she thought about the night before, “then I don’t know what happened. I finally got the nerve to start asking and she got all weird and said she needed to go and bolted.”

Having sat long enough, the defender got up and began pacing the room again. Kelley furrowed her brow, confused at how quickly Y/N had changed on the date the night before. Y/N was always so patient with the blonde, giving her the opportunity to explain herself, reassuring her when she was anxious about how she worded things.

“Have you guys talked since?”

Sonnett shook her head sadly, “I tried to call her last night, but she didn’t answer and I sent a couple texts, nothing there either.”

Kelley got up and pulled the blonde into a hug, “I’m sorry Em.”

Emily struggled in the hold for a second before collapsing into it and allowing the hug, “maybe this means she isn’t interested in long term,” she mumbled into the brunette’s neck.

“You guys have been together for two years, she requested a trade to Washington just to be with you,” Kelley squeezed her, “do you really think she isn’t serious about this?”

She shrugged meekly in the hug.

“See if she says anything at practice this afternoon. Don’t overthink yourself too far before you know what to overthink.”

Sonnett just shrugged again, tugging herself away, fumbling around the apartment, picking up her equipment, “let’s get to training then.”

Practice was about to start, but Y/N had yet to show up.

“Sonnett, where’s Y/L/N?” Burke called, looking around the field.

“I’m not her keeper,” the blonde grunted out, before her eyes went wide, “sorry coach, I’m not sure where she is today.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Y/N called as she rushed out to the field, one cleat on, hoping on one foot while she struggled to pull the other on while still moving, shin guards tucked under arms, “It will never happen again, I’m so sorry Coach.”

Burke gave her a hard look, motioning for everyone to focus up and began his pre-practice talk. Y/N crashed down hard, having tripped over her untied cleat, “fuck,” she tugged the other cleat on.

Sonnett watched on as Y/N spoke with Burke after the meeting off to the side. Burke nodded along, smiling as Y/N spoke, giving her a pat on the back as the soccer player jogged away.

The rest of practice Y/N seemed distracted, constantly glancing over to the trainers on the sideline.

“You good?” Emily stood next to her at a water break, concerned for how different her girlfriend seemed during practice.

She never got a response as one of the trainers called Y/N’s name, motioning to the cell phone in her hand, and she took off. The blonde watched as Y/N answered the phone, walking away and beginning to pace the sideline, plugging a finger in her ear when the whistle blew.

“What’s that all about?” Kelley asked the blonde.

“I don’t know,” Sonnett tracked her girlfriend, noting how frustrated she was getting on the call.

Practice resumed, Y/N joining again at some point, more distracted than before.

“We’ve got to talk,” Kelley shoved the soccer player down the hall after practice, pushing her away from the change room.

“Kel, I don’t have time for this,” Y/N pulled her arm out of Kelley’s grasp, working to make her way back towards the change room.

“No, you have time,” Kelley tightened her hold, keeping Y/N in place.

Y/N released a sigh, tilting her chin to the brunette, waiting for her to continue.

“Do you love Emily, or are you just with her for the fun of it?” she began harshly.

“Fuck you Kelley,” Y/N ripped her arm out, glaring at her, “do you actually have something to say, or would you like to just belittle my relationship?”

“She was going to ask you to move in with her,” Kelley softened.

The glare immediately left Y/N’s face, “oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” now the brunette glared at her, not saying anything and just watching Y/N, waiting for her to say something else, “fix this,” Kelley pointed firmly at her before walking away.

Y/N slowly walked back to the change room, reading the new email on her phone as she went, plopping into her locker and running a hand over her face.

Emily came and sat next to her, “I saw Kelley kidnapped you,” she tried to joke.

Y/N sighed, rolling her head to look at the blonde, giving her a sad smile, “something like that. I’m sorry about last night Emily.”

“It’s alright Y/N, can you tell me what happened?”

Y/N looked away, letting out a slow controlled breath, “I need to tell you something,” she started nervously.

“Can we not do this here?” Emily whispered, nervously looking around the change room, seeing the few lingering players.

“Shit, not that Em,” Y/N quickly shook her head, “but, uhh, you’re definitely right, not here.”

The pair both nervously gathered their things, awkwardly walking next to each other out of the stadium. The awkwardness continued as they walked into Emily’s apartment, neither of them knowing how to start or what to say.

“We can’t live together,” Y/N finally cut the awkward silence.

Emily clenched her jaw and nodded her head dejectedly.

“God Emily, I’m crazy about you, for you. But I think we are better living apart, at least for a little bit,” Y/N didn’t know how to explain how much she loved Emily but why it wouldn’t be a good idea for them to live together, how unfair it be to the blonde if they lived together, “I love you.”

Now Emily scoffed at hearing that, rolling her eyes and looking to the ceiling, “what, you love me but you’re just not in love with me? It’s not you it’s me? What cliché line are you going to drop before you break up with me?”

“No, I don’t want to break up with you,” Y/N recoiled, shaking her head, not expecting the aggressiveness in the blonde’s tone.

“Then, what the fuck is going on? I was ready to ask you to move in yesterday and now you’re being all weird and saying it’s a bad idea, and saying you don’t want to break up, but very much acting how someone would before they break up.”

Emily let all her frustration out, hands firmly on her hips as she started hard at her girlfriend.

Y/N nodded along while the blonde ranted.

“There was a screw up, or not really a screw up, but my name was passed along without me knowing,” Y/N sighed, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the couch cushion, “I was a foster parent back in in Seattle, and I guess they need them here, and the social worker from there moved here and uhh added me to the list.”

“So?” the blondes anger not going anywhere, not understanding why this meant they couldn’t live together.

“They want to give me a kid, uhh a baby actually,” Y/N looked down, rubbing her hand on the back if her neck.

Emily dropped her hands, eyes shooting wide, not expecting that answer.

“I said maybe, only if they can’t find anyone else and only short term. So, I might not be getting one, but uhh, I didn’t want you to feel trapped if I did get one.”

Sonnett opened and closed her mouth, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she was ready for a baby, but she knew she was ready for Y/N, so she was probably ready to try.

Y/N’s phone began to ring on the coffee table, she glanced to the phone and to Emily, before picking up the phone when she saw the expression on the blondes face. Not able to interpret it, she picked up the phone and began to walk into the hall.

Emily nervously moved around the apartment while she waited for Y/N to come back inside. Yesterday she was going to ask Y/N to move in with her, and now she’s considering if she is ready to help take care of a kid with her. They had been together for a while now, Y/N uprooted her whole life to be near Emily, she wasn’t forcing her to help either, hadn’t asked her at all.

Did that mean Y/N didn’t think Emily was serious about them? That she didn’t think Emily could handle a baby? That she didn’t see a future with them? A future baby of their own?

She was brought out of her thoughts when Y/N slowly walked back inside, gently closing the door behind her. Y/N tapped the edge of her phone against her palm, refusing to look up.

“I have to go,” she started softly, “I’m sorry I made you think I wanted to break up, I love you, Emily.” She took a couple steps forward, kissing Emily on the cheek, nodding to herself and making her way back to the door.

“Wait!” Emily rushed forward, stopping Y/N before she could leave, “I want to come.”

“Emily,” Y/N smiled sadly at the blonde, “I’m on my way to pick up a baby right now.”

“I know, I want to come.”

Y/N watched her, determining if she was serious. Nodding, she smiled and reached out to hold the blondes hand and lead her out.

Sonnett listened as Y/N spoke to the social worker, trying to take in all the new information. That the baby had been delivered the night before, that the mom wasn’t prepared for a baby and dad wasn’t in the picture at all, no other family available to take care of the baby.

She could feel her palms sweat the more they spoke, this baby was already in a position where no one wanted it, she wasn’t prepared to be another disappointment in the small humans short life.

“You don’t have to stay Em,” Y/N leaned over and whispered after the social worker walked away, “you didn’t sign up for this, I know it’s a lot.”

“No, I’m here,” she rubbed her palms on her pants, “I’m ready,” she straightened up, giving Y/N a determined smile, “did you do this lots in Seattle?”

“This will be my second baby, but I had a few toddlers, couple children. This will be my eighth all together though,” Y/N kept her eyes down the hallway, waiting for the social worker to come back with the baby.

“How did you do it with travelling for both teams?”

“I agreed for short term ones only, and I had a few really good friends that were able to watch them during practice or the odd away game. Luckily, we always get all our schedules far enough in advance I can plan pretty far ahead,” Y/N explained, “this one is a little unexpected though, so I’ll figure it out.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Emily corrected.

“What?” Y/N looked next to her, pausing the mental planning she was doing, organizing everything she would need to get done.

“We’ll figure it out, together,” she clarified again, “I’m in this with you Y/N.”

“Really Emily, you don’t need to help, but I guess, just uhh, now you know.”

Sonnett didn’t say anything as the social worker rounder the corner with a small baby wrapped in a blanket. Y/N stepping away to meet her halfway, gently taking the baby into her arms, rocking it back and forth.

Emily couldn’t help the smile on her face, the gentle smile on Y/N’s face as she stared down at the baby pulling one of her own. She walked up behind Y/N, sliding an arm around her waist, Y/N turned and smiled at her.

“Want to hold her?” Y/N turned slightly, offering her the baby.

Sonnett nodded nervously, wiping her hands before taking the baby into her arms. Y/N mimicked Emily and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’m really glad you agreed to this Y/N,” the social worker cut in, interrupting their little bubble.

Y/N smiled in return, giving her a nod, looking back to Emily holding the baby.

“Do you want me to take a picture? You guys are adorable,” the social worker reached a handout for Y/N’s phone. Taking the picture, she handed the phone back, “everything is in order, I’ll check in in a couple days. You look really happy Y/N,” she patted Y/N on the arm as she walked away.

“Ready to go home?” Y/N asked, taking the baby back from Emily, sliding a hand down to hold the blondes and guide her out of the hospital.

“I’m ready,” Emily kissed Y/N on the cheek before placing a delicate one on the babies forehead.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett x reader

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quillname · 4 years ago

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Lab Rats Headcanons: Part 2

Lab Rats After-Hours & Golden Girls

Hello, did you miss us? Well, we’re back again for another round of inane rambling so buckle up my dears! On this thrilling installment of “wow, you guys really don’t shut up about these nerd characters, huh?” we’ll be featuring the following:

Burke, Luchino, and Bane (the Golden Girls), as well as BonBon (who makes the group into Lab Rats After-Hours)!

So, let’s talk about Golden Girls first before we hop into how BonBon shakes things up for them.

When he first showed up, our favourite lizard man saw Burke’s lab and had precisely one thought: I want in.

Okay, so like, Bane and Burke were friends with each other long before the games at the manor

They were both employees of the DeRoss family and they became friends in their time together as coworkers

As mentioned in their backstories, several incidents occurred. We headcanon that these events caused them to drift apart for a bit

(More on this whole dynamic and character history later when we talk about Bane and Burke’s dynamic specifically, because there’s a lot to get into with them - Quill)

They didn’t end up meeting Luchino until after the games at the manor had begun

When he first showed up, our favourite lizard man saw Burke’s lab and had precisely one thought: I want in.

At first, he tried many different ways to worm his way in politely but when it became pretty quickly apparent that that wasn’t getting him anywhere, he went for the next best thing: annoying Burke into letting him share the lab.

He would often just kind of insert himself into the lab and act like he owned the place, much to Burke’s annoyance

Over time, however, Burke did begrudgingly let him stick around

The three of them have an interesting dynamic, since none of them are particularly great at the whole “communication” thing.

They do all care for each other quite a bit, but they tend to show it in subtler ways. They do little things to show they care.

They check in on one another (especially if someone --- usually Burke, let’s be honest --- stays up too late and needs to be told to sleep), they make each other food/tea, things like that.

Bane and Burke have a long history and are good friends, although some parts of their history are a bit strained, at the end of the day they care about each other lots and both want the best for the other.

Burke and Luchino started out pretty at odds. Burke was annoyed by Luchino and Luchino cared more about the lab space than actually getting to know Burke himself. This evolved over time and they do actually care about each other now quite a bit.

Burke appreciates Luchino’s company more than he’d ever willingly admit to him and Luchino would be willing to go out of his way to help/do something nice for Burke (which isn’t typical for him) if he noticed him in a bad mood.

Luchino tends to yank Burke out of his comfort zone quite a bit. After years of being alone, Burke has developed some not-so-healthy habits and norms, like shutting people out and burying himself in his work when things are bothering him. Luchino is good at noticing when he’s started to wallow and pestering him into a healthier distraction

Like trying to stop a chaotic lizard-man from releasing 20 leopard geckos into the lab space.

No, but in all seriousness, Luchino is good at looking out for Burke in the roundabout ways that he can’t just outright turn down

Burke recognizes this and the amount of care it takes for Luchino to do so (though it does take him a while to realize) and he appreciates it.

Bane and Luchino is a bit of an interesting dynamic.

For us, they kind of got to know each other personally because of their mutual friend in Burke.

Sure, they’d met a few times around the manor before. Run into each other, possibly had a few Duo’s matches together, things like that. But they never really got to know each other through these things because Bane’s a pretty closed-off and guarded person and Luchino is generally apathetic towards getting to know new people. It’s not that he’s anti-social, he just doesn’t really care about getting to know people if they’re not really of use to him.

Because both of them were spending time with Burke, though, they began to run into each other more frequently and with more reason to actually know who the other was

At first, Bane was curious about the new person present around the lab that Burke had let in. He’d heard about him through Burke’s complaints back when he was first trying to break into the lab, but now that Burke actually seemed to be willingly letting him stay, it was enough to pique his curiosity.

Beyond that, he was also quite grateful that Burke had a new person in his life because he knew how important it was that Burke shouldn’t be alone.

For Luchino, there was a similar curiosity: he was intrigued what kind of person could matter so much to someone who seemed as adverse to people and human interaction as Burke (although he does later realize that this impression of Burke isn’t entirely accurate, either)

As such, they began to get to know each other a little more outside of when they just happened to both be in/around the lab at the same time

Over time, they formed a remarkably chill dynamic

Luchino is a little bit more subdued when he’s around Bane, likely because annoying him isn’t quite as much fun as it is with Burke and thus he turns that down a little. He’s still willing to be a bit chatty about his work or be a little chaotic but like, he’ll do it while sitting on the couch and reading a book rather than hanging from a lighting fixture in the lab.

Bane tries to show his appreciation for Luchino in the quiet ways he can. Luchino also tends to look out for Bane, both because he considers him one of his friends and also because he knows it’s good for Burke to know his friend is looked after.

On Duo Hunter days where he notices Bane to be tired, he offers to throw and do a friendly match (to note: this is very unusual for Luchino, who on his own will basically never throw a match. The man likes winning). When Burke asks him about it, he usually waves him off with excuses like the mode not being serious anyway. The small gesture is enough to make Burke smile though, seeing someone else care for Bane’s wellbeing. (That being said, Luchino does extend this to Burke when he’s tired. Burke however, is old and stubborn. He’d rather go down swinging. The two are more similar than they seem, but don’t mention it to Burke.)

Luchino is pretty good at recognizing when the other two are in a bad mood, and he does often try to help in the ways that he can. He has, however, also learned to recognize when the bad mood is probably caused by something he’s not exactly equipped to handle, usually involving either of their pasts.

When this happens, he knows it’s going to take more than helping to get their minds off of things or cheering either of them up.

He’ll usually find a way to direct them to try and talk to one another. Usually it leads to them working things out, though it isn’t always the fastest process.

Neither Bane nor Burke is particularly open about their pasts and he respects that enough not to push them about it.

Luchino feeling down about his own past and current situation is a much rarer occurrence, but still happens nonetheless.

Bane and Burke both do what they can whenever it hits. Sometimes that means listening to Luchino talk. Sometimes it’s offering whatever little bits of advice they can. Sometimes it’s just sitting with him quietly so he doesn’t need to feel alone.

Bane’s presence is quite calming, and given his stalwart nature, Luchino finds that he can fill the silence with sparse ramblings without feeling like he’s judged or unheard. Bane won’t ask him to talk upfront, but it’s an unspoken open door, and for him that’s more than enough.

Bane’s less touchy than he used to be, but he’ll sometimes give pats on the back, as an added support. Luchino allows it.

Burke’s not adept at navigating feelings, but he’s down to trade advice and talk it out (Eventually, once he opens up more. Once they as a group open up more) Luchino and him spend long nights at the lab, heavier conversations are bound to happen. Being someone who’s older and having gone through alot himself, once Luchino starts talking about his own issues, I think Burke would want to let him know that just as much as he’s been there for them, they’re here for him as well.

He mentions one night that if they are to be compared to a symbiotic relationship, then they have one that is mutualistic. Luchino pauses at that, doesn’t hesitate to huff and call Burke corny for using that term, but his eyes begin to blur and he does his best to look away from the old man. He really does appreciate Burke.

Miscellaneous

Burke and Luchino are both softies for Bane.They dote on Bane alot, to which both parties are oblivious. Luchino would deny it to the grave because he is a Bad Bitch, No Feelings™, Burke has given up on pretending he doesn’t care (post-talking-it-out™), that’s his dear deer friend and he’s glad to have him.

Oldie that does not make sense in canon but if there were saturday morning cartoons in the manor, they’d watch them together. Burke would have them running in the lab as background noise, Luchino would make some teasing/playful jabs but ends up intrigued. Bane walks into the lab to see the two of them not doing work and either laughing at punchlines or critiquing certain aspects, and the two motion for him to sit down and watch the rest of it with them.

Burke enjoys the animation medium and the technicalities behind it, Luchino finds the gags and visual effects fun (although he’ll squint at some of the logics), and Bane’s not quite into it as much but the prospect of having saturday mornings set aside to watch cartoons with his good friends is a charming one. Also, he quite likes the ones involving a certain rabbit and hunter. Beat his ass Bugs. Luchino likes the roadrunner cartoons.

Giving something potentially closer to canon timeline, Post-Manor Burke and Luchino find themselves at odds with the Betty Boop cartoons that start airing. Burke finds it neat how far animation is advancing, meanwhile Luchino took one look at her french poodle design and said no. (“Luchino, you’re a lizard.” “And?? At least I look like a lizard. That is not a poodle, you cannot convince me otherwise.”-broh3m3)

Bane and Burke start a garden together in one of the empty courtyard/atrium areas at some point. It’s just a nice little veggie garden that they take care of. It gives them a nice way to spend some time hanging out together.

Burke also has some sunflowers on one end that he grows. They’re the same ones he found growing in his old watering can when he found it while cleaning up the lab. He moved them into the garden to grow properly and so he could use the watering can.

Luchino also likes plants, and has a particular fondness for carnivorous plants. He used to keep a few in his room and a few in the lab, but once the other two start their garden, he starts keeping them in the small greenhouse in the courtyard.

The three of them maintain the garden together.

Because he’s a little on the reckless side and definitely down to cause chaos just to see what happens, Luchino ends up getting chewed out by Burke a lot. He doesn’t usually take it too seriously.

That being said, because he’s known him for so long, Bane knows when Burke’s being a hypocrite about something he’s nagging Luchino about and will sometimes point out an instance of Burke being just as if not more reckless/destructive with his experiments than whatever he’s currently complaining about (“You set fire to the desk, Luchino.” “When you were first testing out BonBon, you set fire to half the forest, Burke.” “...We don’t speak of that.”). It’s all done in good fun and is usually pretty silly.

Luchino is usually just happy to be privy to hearing about Burke’s own recklessness and he can get kind of smug about it. Burke tries to avoid chewing out Luchino about stuff he knows Bane would call him out on if Bane is around as a result.

Luchino tends to be the one making the most jokes of the bunch (or at least he’s prone to saying the funniest stuff) but every so often, on rare occasions, Bane will make a joke. Usually it’s said in a deadpan, and it’s often quite dry, almost to the point that the others wonder if he was joking at all. They’re usually pretty good once they land, though.

As much as we enjoy ‘Burke has detention’ jokes around Luchino, Bane is actually the scariest one to anger. Luchino knows an angry Burke, he sees it all the time. Angry Bane however…

That about does it for the Golden Girls, specifically.

With all that said, how does our loveable, resident penguin-bot shake things up for this group?

BonBon cares a lot about Burke (that is technically his dad, after all!) and enjoys spending time with him in and around the lab.

If he can help out Burke with something, he’s happy to do so, and if he can surprise him by doing something, he’ll be excited about that, too.

Burke doesn’t really say it, but he loves BonBon a lot, too.

As much as Burke insists that BonBon’s name is Guard 26, he still slips up and calls him BonBon now and then.

He actually does consider “BonBon” more of their name than Guard 26, but at this point he’s just stubborn about it. (His tsundere is showing)

Bane’s known BonBon since he was first built.

He’s a little more affectionate with him than Burke is, if only because Burke is not particularly affectionate. BonBon knows they can probably expect head-pats if they sit with Bane.

As a caretaker, BonBon enjoys looking after Burke. Very occasionally he also does the same for Bane. Because both are rather stubborn on that front, he usually has to be sneaky about it.

He’ll make them food or leave them a blanket or sometimes just sit by them to quietly keep them company.

Bane can usually catch on pretty quickly when BonBon is going out of their way to take care of him, partly because it usually involves them hanging out with him outside of the lab.

He appreciates it, though, and lets BonBon do what they want because he knows that they like to help others.

Luchino was a little weirded out by BonBon at first, not entirely sure what to make of him.

Once he got a bit more used to him, though, he decided he liked the little guy.

The two of them can cause untold chaos if left alone for too long.

Bane is the good influence uncle, Luchino is the bad influence uncle. Burke is the tired father.

Luchino usually steers BonBon into helping him out, but he’s a decent enough person to not let BonBon be the one to get in trouble when they’re inevitably caught doing something Burke told them not to (Burke can usually figure it out on his own, but it’s the thought that counts).

Luchino also likes BonBon because they’re warm. When the weather gets cold or if he gets sick, Luchino likes to curl up against BonBon since they’ve got a built-in heater.

Bonbon is often the middleman for bets and arguments. He can however, be easily swayed, which both parties (see: luchino and burke, bane is chill) will try to work in their favor.

Love languages let’s go!!

Bane’s is quality time. He’s spent quite a bit of his life isolated in the woods and while he never really minded being on his own, it does make him value the time he spends with people he cares about all the more.

After the incident with the poachers, spending time with people who he loves and trusts is a comfort: a rare opportunity for him to let his guard down. He knows the others would help look out for him.

Luchino and Bonbon’s are acts of service. Bonbon is used to filling up the role of a caregiver, and naturally their means of showing affection manifests in doing little things for the others. They’ll tuck a blanket over the others if they fall asleep in the lab and they’ll make a favourite dish if someone seems down.

Luchino on the other hand, was someone who hardly mingled with his previous colleagues for more than necessary. To him, actions speak louder than words, so to go out of his way to do something for Burke or the others (ex. cleaning up the lab, taking over another’s tasks for the day, etc.) is his way of showing he cares for them and genuinely appreciates their company. ‘Cause like hell he’s verbalizing it (bad bitch ™)

Burke’s is also a form of “acts of service” in that the motivations underlying the actions he takes are the more significant manifestation of his care.

Sure, letting the Lab Rats use his lab is spending time with them, but the act of him not kicking them out of the lab is the more significant part for him. Likewise, when he chooses to make a gift for someone, it’s less about the material gift given, and more about the sentiment.

In a way, he’s kind of an amalgamation of multiple love languages, but the one that seems to encompass his motivations the best right now would be acts of service.

Completely random, but for favourite plants: Bane likes Bauhinia trees, Burke likes sunflowers, Luchino enjoys any kind of carnivorous plant but especially venus flytraps, and BonBon likes daisies.

That’ll be the end of that for now, but expect more Lab Rats in the future! This little found family can fit so many headcanons in them! Please take care of yourselves until then! :D

#identity v #idv #idv mad eyes #idv burke #idv gamekeeper #idv bane #idv evil reptilian #idv luchino #idv guard 26 #idv bonbon #long post #lab rats #the garden headcanons are strong with this one

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alwaysgurl43 · 4 years ago

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Her Missing Partner

Word Count: 1564

Warnings: None that I can think of

Author’s Note: This is a #Beckettines21 gift for @caskettinlove. I tried to incorporate some of the things you love into it and this fits in to the timeline right before 4x22 (Originally it was going to split into the episode but my muse did not work that way. I did rewatch the episode just for you though:D) Enjoy!

Coffee had always been their special thing. Even when nothing in the day went right or their case was nothing but dead ends- they always had coffee. Usually Castle was the one bringing it to her, but sometimes she returned the favor. But something about this case- the case of her missing partner- adding with the lack of caffeine that was making it where she couldn’t figure out the missing piece. She couldn’t come to terms with the missing piece. Or maybe she just didn’t want to come to terms with it.

Castle is the missing piece. Even when they don’t have active cases, he’s usually here trying to throw out anything to drive her crazy. But he hasn’t been here in almost twenty four hours. Kate’s eyebrows pull together as she stares at the murder board, filled with the information from the case they closed yesterday. Castle should be here. He always has a place to fit here like a missing puzzle piece fits into a puzzle, but it almost feels like he doesn’t want his place any longer. There’s something that is pushing him farther away, and the only thing that would make sense can’t possibly be true. The only thing she could think is pushing him away would be if he found out that she remembers, that she lied. But how could he?

“No Castle?” Espo’s voice cuts into her thoughts. While she might be missing hers, his partner is by his side.

“Uh, I haven’t heard from him today. But where are you at with finishing up the write up?”

“Maybe don’t make him make the first step.” Ryan throws out, ignoring her question.

“What do you mean?”

“Phones work both directions.” Espo tacks on before the two head off towards their own projects.

She knows the boys are right. She should reach out to Castle. Finding out what’s going through his mind, why he’s running from her, how to fix everything. Maybe, coffee can help with this too.

Standing outside his door, cups in hand, she realizes the thing she didn’t think about. How is she going to knock on the door with two cups of coffee? Moving from foot to foot, she finally stacks the cups on top of each other so she has a hand to knock. On the other side, she can heard noises, so someone is definitely home, she’s just not sure who will answer the door.

“Ka-Beckett? What are you doing here?”

“Thought my partner could use a caffeine boost. I figured you had to be writing.” She holds the cup out to him and could almost laugh at their accidentally twinning. The navy of his button down matches hers. Her jeans could literally be cut from the same cloth as his, apart from how skinny hers are. “Great minds.” She mentions, motioning towards their clothing.

“Yeah, something like that. Did I forget I had to be somewhere? I usually only get home visits if I did.”

“No. I mean not technically. We haven’t seen you in…” Kate trails off, not wanting to admit her tracking of how long it’s been since she saw him. “I thought I should check in on you.”

“I’m fine. Just busy. I have a life outside the 12th remember?” The words are harsh and unforgiving as they leave his lips. His eyes have gone icy instead of the ocean warmth she normally feels.

“What did I do, Castle?” She wants to fix this. She wants to make everything better so that she can have him back, her partner, her… her Castle.

“Why does everything have to be about you, Kate?” He counters harshly.

“If it wasn’t about me, why are you so angry with me?” Kate can’t stop the hand that comes to rest on her hip. “If you need to yell, yell at me. But please don’t shut me out Castle.”

“Isn’t that how you prefer things to be done though? It wasn’t me that hid away for months. I leave you be for not even two days and suddenly you’re knocking down my door, making demands?”

“Because this isn’t you. You’re the dependable one. You’re the one I know that I can turn to when I need someone to bounce ideas off of or find a crazy theory that just might fit a case. You’re not the one who goes running. That’s me. I run, but I’m trying to get better. Trying to make it where we no longer don’t talk about the things that matter.”

“You’re actually wanting to talk about things now? Did you ever think it might be too late for that?”

“I’m hoping it’s not. Because someone taught me that hope is a powerful thing. And I have a lot of it now. So whatever I did, talk to me Castle, because I can’t figure it out.”

Finally, Castle can’t keep it in anymore. “It’s what you didn’t do.” The words slip out on one breath. “Why couldn’t you just tell me? You lied to me for months instead of just telling me and letting me off easily.”

“Let you off easily? Castle, what are you talking about?” He knows she lied. But how he figured it out and when, she has no idea.

“Just because I feel a certain way didn’t mean that you had to. That wasn’t why I told you. I told you how I felt because I couldn’t live without you knowing. Especially when…” He trails off before starting a new thought. “But no one said you had to feel the same way. I get it- I’m frustrating and childish and there are times when I don’t know where the line is drawn. But even with all of that, I don’t think I deserved being lied to. You could have just told me Kate. I could have dealt with you not feeling the same way. But lying to me, for months? What kind of a partner- no what kind of a person does that?”

Kate can only focus on one part of what he said. “You think I lied to you because I don’t feel the same way?”

Castle seems to ignore this question. “You shut me out. It’s so common at this point it didn’t even surprise me. When things are hard, you run from it. But, if you had just told me, I would have gotten out of your hair.” Castle tacks on, running a hand through his own.

“That’s the last thing I ever wanted Castle.”

“What do you want then? Because I’ve tried looking at this from every angle and there’s none that make any sense. If you don’t feel the same, why keep me around?”

“No one said I don’t feel the same Castle.” Kate pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “Well, no one but you.” A rarity happens with that statement, the writer lost for words.

“I-you-what?”

“No one said I don’t feel the same way except for you.” Kate repeats the sentiment. Maybe it will click with him that she does feel the same, she just didn’t know how to bring it up after all this time had passed.

“If that were the case, why did you lie?” Castle doesn’t seem to be letting this get his hopes up. He’s been dealing with this for the past few weeks. He’d already accepted that Kate would never be with him. So why now? Why say this?

“The same reason I built a wall. If I let people get close it risks them getting hurt and I couldn’t risk that, not with you Rick. I learned over time that if I was strong on my own, that others wouldn’t-couldn’t worm their way in to break me. It was easier.”

“It sounds lonelier.”

“Maybe. But I lost someone I loved when I was young. I didn’t want to risk that kind of hurt again. You said it yourself. I hide in relationships with men I don’t love. It’s easier than risking everything and losing it all.”

“So hiding, running, all of that is to stop your heart from getting hurt?” Castle prompts. Kate nods slowly, before taking a long sip of the latte that will always remind her of Castle.

“That’s what Dr. Burke says I’ve been doing too. What he’s been trying to get me to not do anymore I guess.”

“Dr. Burke?”

“My therapist. He’s been helping me for a while.”

“I didn’t know you were in therapy.”

“I didn’t want to make excuses anymore. I wanted to be able to face everything that happened that day and no longer run from it.”

“And are you there?”

“Almost. And that wall I was telling you about, I think it’s almost all the way down. I’d like my partner to be there when it comes down.”

“I’d like to be there too.” Castle admits.

“So will you come back? To the 12th? The boys miss you.”

“I think I can. If the boys are missing me after all. Can’t let them down.”

“Can’t let the boys down.” Kate repeats his sentence.

“Or my partner.” Rick says reaching for Kate’s hand. They don’t usually have big touchy feely moments, but in the small moments of being able to hold her hand or hold her close, he’ll take all of it. Kate smiles up at him as she gently squeezes his hand back.

#Castle #caskett #rick castle #castle season 4 #Kate Beckett #richard castle #katherine beckett #castle fan fic #castle fan fiction #castle fanfic #castle fanfiction #caskett fanfiction #caskett fanfic #caskett fan fic #caskett fan fiction #Her missing partner #alwaysgurl43 #beckettines21

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therenlover · 4 years ago

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Gimme Swayze (Part 4.5 of Till Forever Falls Apart, A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Tags: Fluff, Dancing, Gratuitous Dirty Dancing References, Love Confessions, Insecure!Reader, Minor Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild Language

Word Count: 2600~

This has been cross posted as the first chapter of the fic Cry To Me on my Ao3!

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“Dance with me, Peter?”

Y/N stood in the middle of the floor holding her hand out to him, hair mussed and wild with cheeks still streaked from tears shed earlier in the night. There, in the lamplight, she looked ethereal. Peter could imagine her as she was then in some grand Viennese ballroom. Every man, woman, and child would want to be seen on her arm, fully disregarding her casual clothes and the unhinged fire in her eyes, but she was choosing him. Something in his heart told him she always would.

With a smile and a groan, he pushed up off the creaky old plush couch and stretched his arms. “Are you gonna put on some music or are we gonna have to make our own?”

Peter didn’t miss the way Y/N’s breath hitched as she rushed over to the record player near the window. Her fingers skimmed over the knee-high stack of records at the base of the machine, searching through for something specific. After a moment she let out a small victorious noise. She pulled out the item she was looking for, a plastic-wrapped vinyl sheath, before holding it out towards Peter with a grin. Outside, the rain had slowed to a gentle pitter-patter on the concrete.

The paper cover was plain white, but it had a large title scrawled across the front in black magic marker: Y/N’s Ultimate Romance Mixtape.

“You put a mixtape… on a record? How much did this thing cost you?” Peter asked, walking to Y/N’s side to give the vinyl a closer look.

“Not just any mixtape,” she groaned, motioning for him to flip it over, “Our mixtape!” There on the back of the record, just as she promised, was a tracklist. Upon first viewing, by any average person, it would look pretty normal. To Peter, though, it was like looking down at a list of the top hits of his life. Time In A Bottle, Strange Magic, Born to Run, Sweet Dreams ...

“How did you-”

“I just started finding the songs I saw you listening to more than once, one day,” Y/N replied. She was staring at the floor again, wringing her hands. Was she… embarrassed? “I know it’s kinda weird and creepy… okay, it’s really weird and creepy, but I didn’t have anything else to do. It was just me in the Paris apartment back then and I still technically wasn’t a real person in the eyes of the government so I couldn’t work. What I’m trying to say is it was a nice way to pass the time, waiting for the newest song on the list to release, sitting patiently in the record shops hoping to hear a snippet of a melody I heard you humming along to in a vision...”

As she spoke, Y/N’s eyes seemed to glaze over. By the time her stream of consciousness had turned into less of a pour and more of a drip she looked halfway caught between the world and a dream. Peter could only imagine that when you’d lived as long as she had sometimes the past could seem like a dream. He’d been around for about 31 years, 67 if you included the years he lost between dimensions, and even he found himself looking back on parts of his childhood as if they were someone else’s. What would it be like in 10 more years? 20? 30? 100 didn’t even seem plausible.

Peter was only snapped from his internal monologue when Y/N snatched the record out of his hands and held it to her chest protectively. Her dreamy look was gone, replaced with one much more defensive.

“What?”

“If you’re just gonna gawk at it, I’m not gonna show you,” she said, carefully setting the record down on top of the closed player before turning her attention back to Peter, “I know it’s a little odd-”

“It’s cute!” Peter was quick to respond. He held up his hands, giving a small gesture of goodwill, before moving in to wrap her in his arms. She accepted, however stiffly. “Really, babe, it’s cute! I promise,”

With what seemed like a great amount of effort, Y/N relaxed into his touch. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just a little nervous… I’ve never done this before,”

“Oh, come on,” Peter’s mouth was almost against her skin now. His hot breath tickled the sensitive curve of her ear as he rocked their bodies back and forth on the balls of his feet, half calming and half comedic. “You don’t have to be nervous, Y/N. It’s just me,”

“That’s the problem!” Y/N was floundering in earnest now, her little heart pounding hard enough that Peter could feel it against his own chest. “With other guys it was easy! I knew they weren’t the end goal, and I knew… well, I thought they’d die long before you ever came into the picture, but now you’re here, and you’re you, and I’m so fucking terrified of messing everything up,”

Peter moved his hands to loosely grip her arms, rubbing calming circles into her flesh. “Babe, newsflash, I really like you. Like, stupidly like you. Head-over-heels type shit,” he paused to laugh, “and hey, I’m not the one who sees the future or anything, but I don’t see this going bad anytime soon. So take a deep breath, put on our mixtape, and just… let go,”

Y/N let her eyes find Peter’s, peering up through heavy lashes. “What if I fall?”

He kissed her softly on the forehead before he answered, “Baby, I have super speed. You can’t fall faster than I can catch you,”

The softest of smiles graced Y/N’s face before she pulled away, turning back to the record player and grabbing the record off the top as she opened it. She paused for a second, pensive, and Peter thought he might have to bolster her again before she turned back to him.

“Side A or Side B?”

Peter shrugged. “Whatever side you like the most,”

“Side B it is…” she smirked as she set the record on the table and got it spinning, dropping the needle gently onto the edge of the vinyl with a practiced hand, “That’s my side,” Under the sounds of the gentle rain and the city, the opening notes to a song halfway familiar began to ring out through the old bones of the apartment. The ancient wood seemed to creak its own melody under Y/N’s feet while she started to sway. Peter tried to follow along as best he could.

“I hope you know I can’t dance,” He mumbled, swinging his hips to and fro as Y/N giggled at him.

“Oh, I know,”

“Then why did you ask me to?”

“Just because you’re bad at dancing doesn’t mean I don’t wanna dance with you,”

“That’s so cheeeeesy, Y/N!”

She threw her head back as she shimmed into Peter’s arms across the floor. “And you love it,”

When she was finally in his arms again, they swayed loosely to the tune. There was no real rhythm to it, all clumsy feet and breathless laughter as they bumped their way through Y/N’s greatest hits, but it came from the heart. There were no doomsday clocks ticking in the background, no expectations of what to was to come. It was just the music around them and the rain in the street and the jerky unnatural movements of Peter Maximoff doing his best to internalize the beat as The Mamas and the Papas slowly drifted into Solomon Burke. Y/N hummed thoughtfully, pulling away from Peter’s arms as it began, bringing her arms up above her head as she shook her hips. Peter just groaned.

“You actually put the song from Dirty Dancing on the mixtape?”

Y/N didn’t respond, instead bopping her head along with the beat.

“I can’t believe it. You’re not even gonna answer me,”

She gave a wink and continued on.

“Really? The silent treatment?”

“I’m not saying another word until you embrace the Swayze, Peter,”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep inhale, and then stared daggers into Y/N’s eyes as he shrugged his shoulders. “You want Swayze, baby? You really want Swayze?”

“Oh, I wanna see some Swayze, Peter,”

“How’s this for Swayze?”

With a burst of superhuman speed, Peter raced across the floor, snatched Y/N up by her midriff, and lifted her above his head, delighting in her giggles and shrieks while he spun her. He may not have been the best dancer or the best mover, but Peter was good at a few things; things like utilizing his surprising strength and speed.

He kept Y/N aloft for a moment before gently returning her to the floor. There she stood, slightly dazed, as she got her bearings back, gripping the sleeve of Peter’s t-shirt for balance. To put it simply she was a giggling mess.

Peter loved watching her like this, carefree and loose, unbound from the tethers of trauma and time for a few brief moments. It made his heart soar higher to know that he made her like this. He was the one who threatened to toss her in with the seals at Central Park, which made her laugh so hard she almost yakked up her hotdog. It was him who sat with her on the couch throwing popcorn at the fuzzy TV screen whenever she suddenly froze up at the sound of a scream, distracting her enough that she could enjoy the movie till the end. His hands were the ones she grabbed whenever she saw a cute dog on the street and wanted to get close fast enough to pet it. He was a part of her joy, a minuscule blip on her radar making waves in her life for the better. Peter didn’t know if there was anything else he wanted to be in life that could mean more than that.

When Y/N finally got her giggles under control, she looked up at him with wet eyes and whispered. “That was pretty Swayze, babe,”

The second it left her lips she was in stitches again, her knees buckling as she collapsed to the floor, whole body wracked with her laughter. Peter joined her this time, settling himself down by her side and allowing the hysteria to wash over him like a pleasant wave. Once all was said and done, he and Y/N laid shoulder to shoulder on the antique sitting-room rug, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes and soft smiles. The record, all spun out, sat forgotten on the turntable.

“I know I’ve told you this already,” Y/N said, eyes glued to the rotating fan above her, “but I love you, Peter. I love you and I love who I am when I’m with you. You don’t have to say it back, I mean, I know this has all been ridiculously fast, but… I dunno. Even without the whole fated to cross paths thing, I think I’d love you now anyways, you know?” She bit her bottom lip, groaning, “Sorry, sorry, I know things are moving way too quick-”

Peter shushed her gently, rolling onto his side to look her in the eye. “Babe, you’re talking to the fastest man alive. Quick is literally in my name. Don’t worry about it,”

“Yeah. I guess it is, huh?”

“And for the record,” he took a deep breath, steeling himself, “I love you too, Y/N. I have for a while now. It has to have been since… well all the way back when Dr. Strange had me tied up at your work. I was so sure that I had screwed everything up with you, that you were gonna let him drag me to superhero prison and wash your hands of me, but you didn’t. You came in there guns blazing, even when you knew I had fucked up big time and accidentally tried to steal some real spooky shit, and from that second on I never once felt like you would ever be willing to get rid of me just because I’m annoying,”

She nudged him with her shoulder. Not hard, just enough to jostle him. “You’re not annoying,”

“Have you met me? Annoying is literally my middle name,”

“No,” Y/N’s voice got soft, “No, your middle name is Django. Your favorite color is blue, but specifically bright teal-ish blue like the blue moon ice cream your mom used to buy you on vacation back when you were a little kid. You can’t dance but you have surprisingly good rhythm, and even if you’re not proud of your voice you should be because if you weren’t the world’s fastest man you could be touring as a singer with your guitar. You always sleep on the right side of the bed, your favorite season is the weird limbo between summer and fall, you can’t stand the James Bond movies, and if anybody asked you’d say your favorite food is Twinkies but it’s not. Your favorite food is pierogies, specifically the cheese and potato kind from Nana Dudek’s in Polish town because they remind you of your Nana the few times you remember going to see her. All of that is true, and so is the fact that you love me,”

She went quiet, eyes watching the blades of the ceiling fan in their lazy rotations. Slowly, she reached out her hand, interlocking her pinkie with Peter’s own without even having to look down and find it.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that,” Peter whispered.

Y/N let a huff of air out of her nose, a silent laugh at a joke only she knew.

“You’re not supposed to say anything. I just wanted you to know,”

“Know what?”

“Know that even if you can never build up the courage to tell me you love me again, I’ll be just fine, because I know, and you know, and that’s all that matters,”

Something in Peter’s heart, however small, shattered at just how vulnerable Y/N sounded.

Both of them were jaded in their own ways. They had seen bloodshed and torment and the roots of human suffering. It wasn’t always as simple as saying ‘I love you’. Sometimes the world left you a broken pulp with little faith and saying three little magic words just wasn’t possible. There’s no place for love in the heart of a person at war, nor is there any guarantee that they’ll ever be able to express that forbidden weakness again. It’s a commodity, like hope, that came in rare supply to people like Peter and Y/N. That being said, in the safety and warmth of the sitting room with the cozy couch and the antique rug and the ceiling fan and the record player, neither of them were at war, and Peter would be a damn fool if he didn’t take advantage of that.

He rolled onto his side once again, waiting there in silence until Y/N rolled onto her side to greet him, and then, with all of the feelings he had hidden in his heart since the moment he ran at top speed for the first time he kissed her.

Without hesitation, she kissed him back.

-------

a/n: Sorry this took so long to get out! It’s short, but I wanted it to be long enough to be it’s own mini chapter, so our minor friends can enjoy the sweetness without having to lose any of the story in the spicy bit. That being said, the spicy bit comes next lol. My shift bar is being fussy, and I need to sleep, so I’m signing off for the night, but thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, let me know!

Please do not post my work to any other sites, thank you ! <3

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #fanfiction #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #marvel fanfiction

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shemakesmusic-uk · 4 years ago

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Alt-pop artist Caroline Romano shares the official music video for her new single, 'PDA of the Mainstream.' 'PDA of the Mainstream' is an anthemic, punk-influenced pop number that gives the middle finger to the internet and all its toxicity. For the video, Caroline worked with director Justin Key to develop a visual concept that captures the familiar feelings of chaos, anger, joy, entertainment and excess that the internet invokes in all of us. “The music video for ‘PDA of the Mainstream’ was my chance to yell directly at the internet,” Caroline says. “I wanted to visually create my own little version of the internet and how I see it, and I think I did that. There’s kittens and confetti and destruction, along with a whole lot of screaming. If that’s not representative of applications and the digital age, I don’t know what is. If I can’t beat it, I figured I might as well smash it with a hammer.”

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Following the release of her recent single 'Do This To Me', Manchester-via-Italy singer, songwriter and guitarist Julia Bardo has shared new single and video 'No Feeling', taken from her eagerly awaited debut album Bauhaus, L’Appartamento released on September 10 via Wichita Recordings. 'No Feeling' is a dreamy alt pop song, which builds with a teasing guitar riff to a soaring melodic chorus of earnest and relatable lyrics about the everyday need to do things you don’t want to do and having ‘no feeling’ for them. The video, directed by Georgie Brown, features Julia role-playing different life tasks interspersed with a neon-tinged glam live performance. Julia says; “‘No Feeling’ is about doing things just because you exist, not because you want to actually do them. Because we are trapped in a cycle of rules in society; you must have a job, go out, drink, talk to people, be sociable, believe in something, and do what other people do in order to survive in the world. Sometimes even the most mundane tasks seem too much to handle. For the video, I wanted to portray this idea and set the scene in a white, sterile space, showing how these actions can make us feel stuck in an endless loop of time - going through the same motions every day without feelings or emotions, and how that can build and eventually become out of control."

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Nightlife is finally beginning to shine again — especially in New York City where the industry is life blood — and Ariana and the Rose wants to spotlight all the colorful personalities that are bringing everything back, post-lockdown. The synth-pop artist's new single, 'Every Body,' is an electric invitation to the dance floor, recruiting a host of iconic faces for its official music video: Amanda Lepore, Kandy Muse, Cakes Da Killa, CT Hedden, Ryan Burke, Merlot, Rify Royalty and way more. Because "this dance floor is for every body," as she sings, almost like a call to action. "Feel your body on my body." "I wanted to highlight the incredible people and the spirit of the NYC nightlife and LGBTQ+ communities," Ariana says. "Clubs and nightlife have been a home for people who otherwise felt displaced for decades. It is about a chosen family and a sense of community rather than an individual. These are the places that have been a home for me, personally and professionally." In early spring 2020, Ariana had an entire album with tracks she'd planned to release throughout the summer, but COVID forced her to start from scratch and create a body of work that felt more reflective of that bizarre moment in time. The artist then wrote music she dreamt of hearing once the world eventually reopened, capturing "the bigger picture of what the collective feeling was," she says. 'Every Body' is the first official taste of that period, with a relentless hook and powerhouse production that sounds like it could've been conceived while On Top! at The Standard, Meatpacking. Euphoric and aggressive, her single embodies the energy of a year spent bottled up inside, fantasizing about sweating next to strangers and freeing your mind until sunrise. "I want to be the kind of artist who creates space for other people," Ariana says. "Space to connect, either with other people or with themselves, space to feel seen, space to feel uninhibited and to feel safe to do all of those things. 'Every Body' is a mission statement for my project and for the audience to get lost in. No matter who you are, how you identify or where you're from, my musical world and my shows are for everyone to lose or find themselves in." Watch the 'Every Body' music video for some serious "dance music catharsis," filmed at Brooklyn's House of Yes and directed by the Emmy-winning Jason Sherwood. [via Paper]

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After introducing her new solo project Flossing with last month’s debut single ‘Switch’, Bodega’s Heather Elle is now sharing her latest Flossing single ‘Trap’. Inspired by the “double binds of both technology and gender”, she notes, “Humanity’s fear of anti-mattering mixed with surveillance capitalism’s psychological warfare is quite the dirty martini to sip on every day.” Accompanied by a video directed by Brooklyn video artist Ali Yildiz of Analog Nation who, during the lockdown, began experimenting with circuit-bent AV gear, video synthesizers, CCTV and VHS cameras, and televisions. [via DIY]

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Indigo De Souza shares a joyous video for 'Hold U', the new single and a stand-out moment from her much-anticipated upcoming album Any Shape You Take. Of the song and video, De Souza says: "I wanted to write about a really simple kind of love that isn’t necessarily romantic, but that is just about holding space for other people to fully express themselves and to feel celebrated. Just simply seeing someone in their humanity and loving them. We are constantly evolving and we only truly have space to process our lives openly if we feel safe and are encouraged to love ourselves and celebrate our bodies. I am really blessed with the sense of community that I have in my life, and I wanted to highlight that in this video. Community is the purest kind of magic and can heal so much trauma and pain. We all just want to feel truly held by the people around us!"

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A lush, swirling guitar tune that gently encourages listeners to face their unconscious bias, Canadian duo Softcult have shared their latest single ‘Spit It Out’. “The song is about rejecting harmful ideologies that we’ve come to accept as normal, even though they perpetuate our own oppression," the band say. "Most people understand that misogyny, sexism, racism, etc are wrong, but don’t often notice when it occurs in our every day lives, in the media, or how we’ve been conditioned to perceive the world. We can even unknowingly become part of the problem because we’ve internalized these ways of thinking. We wrote the song about resisting societal standards which only serve to benefit those that hold power over others. By simply refusing to accept these ideologies, we can weaken the pillars in our society that allow oppression and injustice. It all starts with questioning them in the first place, and then deciding that we aren’t going to continue to contribute to them.” [via Get In Her Ears]

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Lazy days in the park, sun-soaked vacays and bike rides around the city: summer is in full effect and we’re living for it. The only thing missing is that perfect soundtrack and singer Devon Again is putting in a strong bid. Dropping her new single 'SUBURBIA', the singer serves up a warming single that captures the essence of summer. Fusing R&B sensibilities with ethereal vocals, the singer creates a kaleidoscopic soundscape filled with bright piano chords and glittering synths. “I wish there was some spicy back story to this song,” the singer candidly said, “But the chorus was really just a shower thought I had upon some brief reflection of a crush I had on a girl a couple years back who was very much not available. The song loosely follows me and my hypothetical suburban lover through our affair. The main theme throughout the song is being upset that she doesn’t love me the way she loves her husband. I want to be the person she comes home to, but instead I go directly to her home and leave when she’s done with me.” [via Wonderland]

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Alternative agitator DeathbyRomy returns with the explosive 'Day I Die,' her first new single of 2021. The Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter combines undeniable hooks, brash production, metal riffs, and double-kick pummel on the track, which comes with a mind-melting music video courtesy of director Pix3lface. An anthem for the terminally lovesick, 'Day I Die' finds DeathbyRomy (born Romy Flores) deep in the grips of obsession. “Take all of me, make me feel again,” she laments. “You got something sick and I know I’ll always want it to the day I die.” That’s when the gnarled guitars come crashing in and the song takes a crushing turn. Jarring, catchy, and raw, 'Day I Die' captures an artist already known for pushing boundaries breaking even more new ground. “This song is about my relationship with life, death, and love. ‘Day I Die’ at its core is a love song. Love isn’t soft and mushy to me, it’s hard as fuck. Love is god. It’s vibrant and addicting. Love is what fuels me to do all I do,” says DeathbyRomy.

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Viktoria Modesta makes a comeback after five years away from music, perhaps after some well-deserved time in this planet's outer orbit. The icy-blonde bionic superstar’s new single, 'One With The Ray of Light' debuted July 9, and now is joined by the release of an accompanying art film. OWTROL will launch Modesta’s venture into a new chapter that puts art at the core and compromises nothing. From avatars to techno influences, the artist is looking to create a world of her own. The upcoming record, Moksha, was written alongside Grammy winner Janet Sewell and Madeaux, compared to past works, details a more personal narrative into Modesta’s unique life. Coming at this hybrid project with a more hands-on approach, Viktoria has edited, location scouted and styled the film accompanying her single. [via Flaunt]

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Alicia Walter has unveiled another track from their forthcoming album I Am Alicia. The Prince-inspired 'Suit Yourself' comes with a music video directed by Falyn Huang. The artist said this about the new song/visual: “'Suit Yourself' is a motivational anthem empowering myself to follow my dreams and do what I want to do in life, “cause babe, this ain’t that long of a ride.” I'm asking myself to stop worrying about what everybody else thinks or about what’s “right,” and to show up for myself and chase my wildest dreams — because the universe might just deliver! In the video, we see me at home, getting up out of bed and becoming who I want to be. We watch as “pretend” — playing dress-up with different personas and careers, dreaming up what I could be —becomes reality, me stepping into my fullest potential (and, *suitably,* a glam power jumpsuit!).” [via mp3 and npcs]

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Comprising Dolorès and Freddy Van Ballast, LETTEN 94 is a Swiss coldwave duo that takes this mental image of Letten, and more widely of Europe in the aftermath of the fall of the Berlin Wall, as a starting point to try to create electronic music which is sometimes aggressive and syncopated, sometimes dark and mysterious. The band has dropped new single, 'Empty Landscapes' alongside a captivating music video, directed by Normotone. Subliminally immersive and dangerously alluring, 'Empty Landscapes' is driven by bleak bouncing and throbbing bassline along with stark, lashing beats relentlessly penetrating the droning dank, dream-like mist stabbed by piercing, heart-wrenching guitar gleams, ominous resonant baritone strains and icy sweeps of evocative winding, glaring synths, to painfully reverberate with poignant intensity around powerful and bewitching female vocals, that ebb and flow betwixt cold, detached exhalations and passionate, aching longings of agony and ecstasy, whilst descending breathlessly into the soft distant echo of male whisperings, to reveal an abandon train stop where fantasies are fulfilled. Cinematic visuals build tension and intrigue around an inter-dimensional romantic interlude. A fragmented storyline dissects a mysterious couples physical connection with split-screen segments drawing isolation from both a barren, panoramic countryside and a dim-lit noir-ish lounge setting. Raindrops blur alternate dream states merging, fantasy and reality behind smoky rooms, hypnotic imagery, unfocused lens frames, and suggestive reflections to form a magnetic perception of disassociation. Shadows ebb and flow under swaying light angles to capture hints of doubt from the intense solo eye contact leading into a strange metaphysical reunion, left wandering in the hidden sands of lost time. [via WL//WH]

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London-based artist Alewya has released her new track 'Spirit_X', a mesmerising track indebted to the sounds and communal embrace of the rave. Drawing from the restless rhythms of drum and bass, 'Spirit_X' moves at high speed, with Alewya’s vocals echoing the emotions of a heady night. Alewya says on 'Spirit_X': “I know that the rave can be utilized as ritual and ceremony to transform, uplift and energize a person. I love giving visceral experiences. I love drum and bass for that specific reason. ‘Spirit_X’ encompasses all of the above in my way.” [via FEMMusic]

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Sneaker Pimps have shared the video for 'Fighter,' the lead single from Squaring the Circle, their first album in nearly 20 years. The video was directed by the band's own Chris Corner and shot near his studio in Pioneertown, CA and features Janine from IAMX wrapped in a gimp suit and subjected to a downpour of colorful rubber balls. It's a striking video.“We live in a world of mental illness where we are surrounded by profound idiocy and overload," says Corner "'Fighter' is an ode to a struggle to tune out, gain strength and breakthrough. In the video, the character’s fight is ridiculous, there is no other. In the grip of the darkest depression and anxiety the opponent is her own mind. She locks herself in her ring, painting a circle and shrinking her world even further. Freeze, flight, or fight. Self fulfilling prophecies. She's wrapped in a gimp suit because she’s a slave to her own negative narratives. Trapped by vices and triggered by the most innocuous objects. In this world, bouncing balls and balloons become existential threats. But there’s also a faint light of hope. She’s dancing in the face of the full catastrophe of life. She will prevail, she always has. Round 2.” Corner goes on to say, "I shot the video in anamorphic to give it a filmic stretched and otherworldly feel. Soft flares and subtle distortions to add distance, keeping us as the viewer outside of the fighter’s world. My crew spent weeks painting and repainting the set to find just the right queasy color. Repeatedly repacking hundreds of bouncing balls and balloons for shot after shot. Everything you see is on camera. Simple but time consuming. Janine from IAMX was willing to jump into the gimp suit and suffer in extreme desert heat. If you look close you’ll see real sweat dripping down the arms. Everybody worked like dogs for the love of it, this was the ultimate no ego video. Those people are my heroes.” [via Brooklyn Vegan]

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Remi Wolf returns with bright, vibrant new single 'Liquor Store'. Laying out her stall with ultra-catchy introductory statement 'Liz' earlier this year, the California native is aiming to release her debut album this Autumn. New single 'Liquor Store' is an explosion of colour, a truly larger-than-life release that actually taps into an extremely personal topic. Dealing with sobriety, 'Liquor Store' is about "shedding a skin", as she puts it. Remi explains: "It's about my journey with sobriety, which has been a major life shift for me over the last year. At the end of 2020, after six months away from the studio, I had a crazy explosive week where all these feelings came pouring out of me — 'Liquor Store' captures a lot of them. It’s my first baby of the bunch and I hope you love it." The video is truly exceptional, a furry world of day-glo tones that has a cartoonish feel. [via Clash]

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Cape Town’s HONEYMOAN have just shared the second single from their upcoming Palace EP. ‘False Idols’ combines the best elements from their multi-genre influences and comes with an equally fun music video. Palace arrives August 18. ‘False Idols’ is another infectious offering from HONEYMOAN, beginning with vocals and drums taking centre stage for maximum impact. Later, the song bursts into full colour with electronic pop elements and triumphant guitars. The music video has an 80s sitcom vibe that matches the energy of ‘False Idols’ perfectly. Vocalist Alison spoke about the new single: "'False Idols' is a triumphant story of success, a message to anyone to ever said you couldn’t do it, you were too young, too old, too scared, too whatever but you did it anyway and look at you now" [via Gigwise]

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Alt-pop duo Marian Hill is gearing up for something exciting with the release of their newest single 'omg.' 'omg' arrives after June’s 'oOo that’s my type,' their cool girl anthem in collaboration with Yung Baby Tate. The new single is a throwback to the duo’s jazz-injected sound featuring bubbly saxophones with their own trap flair. The chorus bursts into whistles and hi-hats as Gongol sings “Sashay, I’m wearing nothing but my lingerie / It’s all I’ve got til I do laundry,” as a tongue-in-cheek reflection of their raunchy hits. The song arrives alongside a visual which features Gongol writhing around in bed with lingerie on and exploring her home before settling in with an extensive cardboard cutout collection of famous pop stars, including one of Lloyd himself. The video hints at a forthcoming album, although details have not been released yet. ”’omg’ is the first song we’ve ever written that makes us laugh,” share the duo in a statement. “We discovered such a fun zany stir-crazy energy with it, and had so much fun taking the usual sexy Marian Hill vibe to its comedic extreme. As soon as we wrote the song we saw the whole video – the lyrics are basically a script for it.” [via Paste Magazine]

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Alessia Cara acts out a silly noir melodrama in the new music video for her recent single, 'Shapeshifter.' The video was directed by Tusk, and in it, Cara plays all the main roles: The jilted wife with the bottomless martini glass, the cheating husband, the clumsy private eye, the gardener and the maid. The clip mainly follows the private eye as he tries to figure out who the husband’s secret lover is, and the mystery ends with a very unexpected and surreal twist, when the investigator catches the husband smooching a figure with a sheep’s head. After stumbling into the pool, however, the PI appears to wake up, as if from a dream, in an ocean far away. [via Rolling Stone]

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Anne-Marie thinks Little Mix made 'Kiss My (Uh-Oh)' sound "10 times better" than it did as a solo track. The 30-year-old star has teamed up with the 'Shout Out To My Ex' hitmakers on her latest song, and she was delighted to finally get round to collaborating. She told the Daily Star newspaper's Wired column: "I feel like so many people have been wanting that collaboration. We have actually been talking about it for so long, we sent each other a few songs every now and again, but they never felt quite right. Then I was doing the tracklisting for my album, 'Kiss My (Uh-Oh)' was originally a solo song but I thought they would sound so good on this so I sent it to Leigh-Anne and she said, 'We love it, we are going to vocal it', and made it sounds 10 times better. So now it's a single thanks to them." Anne-Marie also heaped praise on the trio for their work on the music video, not least because Leigh-Anne and Perrie are both pregnant. She added: "Everyone shines and their ad-libs at the end are insane, they kill it. They are very powerful people. In the video they were pregnant, it was quite inspiring to see. I would just be at home eating pizza, so good for them going through it." [via Music News]

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Amsterdam-based indie-pop singer-songwriter Sophie van Hasselt has released her single 'EaT mY bRaiN'. This is the first single of her upcoming debut-EP called Eat My Brain which will be released in February next year. This EP is an introduction to different themes that are typical for a girl in her twenties. From layered vocals sounding like inner conversations to bouncing baselines, pulsating pads and quirky guitars playing in the background. Sophie is an interdisciplinary artist who not only creates music, but also works in fashion photography and videography. The combination of these three expertises make her a unique creative mind. Sophie uses her DIY ethic and the 'reality shifting' aspect to remind us that life is as how you imagine it. Her music sounds like the 'Swinging Sixties' and a combination of artists such as Brigitte Bardot, Lily Allen and Beach Boy's 'Smiley Smile'. In 'EaT mY bRaiN' Sophie van Hasselt, a modern flower-child, opens the doors to her highly imaginative world - filled with songs to play, where she lives in day-dreams and quite figuratively 'eats her own brain'. [via Front View]

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ninakaina · 4 years ago

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why do you like maria kaina so much? ì'm just really curious.

this is the most exciting question i’ve ever gotten in my life

[image id: a screencap from the pathologic wiki, which says “personality: femme fatale.”]

EDIT: im gonna make this into a video essay sooooooo read it if you want or stay tuned for a video in like a week and a half

first of all, i’m a lesbian and she’s a goth girl. secondly, she combines many of the tropes that i adore in female characters, and i’ll try to get into some of it as concisely as i can. in short: femme fatale, magic woman, scary woman, cassandra, sublime. i’m going to draw some concepts from the essay “the woman in the red dress: sexuality, femmes fatales, the gaze and ada wong” by jenny platz in the beginning here.

in the scope of their function as femmes fatales and the ways they transcend the typical boundaries placed on femmes fatales, ada wong resident evil and maria have a lot of similarities beyond obvious similarities in design (you can see patterns forming in my interests but also if you don’t know anything about ada this should still all make sense). so we’re all on the same page, a femme fatale is a woman of dubious morals and unknown or false motives who uses her sexuality and wit to get what she wants from men. the femme fatale has a long, uncertain, and pervasive history, and a love-hate relationship with the misogynistic writers/audiences/societies that create her, but ada and maria break free of many of the tropes that allow the femme fatale to be part of a misogynist power fantasy. together they have functionally very similar relationships to their male protagonists, although i wouldn’t say maria cares about daniil half as much as ada cares about leon if at all, in which they’re more than willing to lie to the men and put them in harm’s way to achieve their own unclear ends, while serving an essential function in keeping them alive, often without their knowledge (in the changeling route, maria sends daily letters to clara to keep daniil from getting murdered by artemy). they add an element of unease verging on horror to their games through their sheer power - which stems from a weaponized womanhood, the player’s unfolding understanding of the vastness and nature of their power, and the fact that you have no idea what they’re going to do with it. the weaponized womanhood is relevant here because in theory, to a male audience, it adds its own level of horror, but to me it adds a level of love.

like ada too, and unlike the typical femme fatale of books and movies even in the modern era, maria is never purified or punished; in fact, she only becomes more powerful over the course of the game. her death can only come via the plague; there are no plotlines where she may die. even when she’s caught red-handed by artemy in patho 2, he has two options: to tell her father, who is unlikely to stop her and even less likely to punish her, or to note that this is maria’s world and we’re all just living in it and move on. in classic she can get married at the end, but not for love and it’s made explicitly clear that her husband’s role is to serve her, like victor served nina; instead of finally conforming to a patriarchal mold like the archetype would predict, she again uses a man to advance her agenda. (she still deserves better though. killallvlads2020)

another similarity between maria and ada that’s also the biggest way they diverge, is their expanded power of body over the typical femme fatale. where typically the femme fatale is just a wickedly smart, sexy woman (good for her), she has little power beyond the sexualization of her body, and little recourse when she’s in danger besides getting a man to help her out of it. the way this is subverted is the most obvious in ada, so it’s a good lead-in; her power of body also translates into fighting skills greater than that of most of her peers-- she uses acrobatics and melee attacks more often than other characters, making her distinctly equipped to survive without anyone’s help and destroy her opposition. maria, obviously, is not a fighter, and she’d die immediately if she was locked in a police station with zombies, so at first glance she seems to fall more into the wicked damsel aspect of the trope. but thematically and functionally, pathologic is not a game about physical fighting or even physical power. in a game world where guns and bullets are exceedingly rare while information (as well as picking truth out of lies) is the form of power that gets characters to the end alive, maria has, in herself, the access to more information than any male character. aside from mark’s (and grief’s) special role as the fool, clairvoyance and particularly mistresshood are specific to women, and come to maria from the steppe. she’s also “sensitive to lies and deceptions” and “can instantly see one’s true colors”. she is shown barefoot in pathologic 2, which symbolizes her personal and physical connection to the wild earth, a power of body in itself. maria and ada are both apex predators, perfectly suited to their particular environments and narratives- on that note, maria is never endangered at all, aside from typical plague mechanics and distress in her issues with aglaya.

okay, enough about ada wong. beyond her connection to the femme fatale trope, maria’s narrative in itself also draws on a really compelling archetype. i mentioned that maria is never purified or punished, nor really endangered, but that doesn’t mean her story is without tragedy. instead, her tragedy is more personal and psychological, as she’s one of several characters who deal in the theme of lost childhood, and maria’s particular refrain has a hint of lost humanity. these are characters who are forced to grow up, often too fast, and for whom growing up carries an inherent trauma where some aspect of who they were or who they could have been is ripped away from them. i would also call maria and capella’s stories lost girlhood, since there’s a lot of... you know, it feels like stuff that mitski would sing about. i could talk for ages about “i can hear [your mother’s] voice [in you]” and how effectively it’s played for a bittersweet horror. in classic we are very clearly shown maria changing from who she is at the beginning, acting completely differently, and it’s left unclear as to whether this is simply the new maria or her mother’s spirit is literally possessing her (again, some obvious metaphor here). in pathologic 2, they make a change that i really love. maria has already taken up the mantle of mistress or at least claims she has and is in the process of change-- “a mistress in the making”, but it’s mentioned that artemy remembers her from before he left the town.

he says “i remember when you were just a kid. who would have thought you’d grow into-- this?” if you read my writing, you may have picked up that i seriously fixate on this piece of her narrative. from when she was a girl (16 at the oldest) to when she’s 21, she’s changed so much as to be almost unrecognizable, and more than unrecognizable, she’s become a complete mystery, a nightmare. this is a tragic horror, in the sense that tragedy is horror that’s already happened. from the uncanny valley of the familiar turned unfamiliar, the creature-that-was-once-maria, the not-quite-nina, to that same sense of loss as someone who was once just a girl is forced to be more grown than she is and more grown than any person should be expected to be. as anna angel wears willow’s hair, maria wears her own. that one haruspex line asks a thousand, unsettling questions to which we can expect no answer. who was she before? who is she now? what happened to her? when did she change? what has she lost? what has she gained? is this who she wants to be? did pressure from her mother shape her, or grief over her mother’s death, or something else entirely? is this who she was always going to become, or could she have been something else? all of these and more lead into the central questions that define both the dark/scarlet mistress and monster movies: what is it?, what is it capable of?, and what does it want? these questions are, naturally, never answered, although it’s likely we’ll get a little more insight into her motives in the bachelor route of patho 2.

stepping back from the specifics of mistresses, this again carries strong themes of coming of age and lost childhood/girlhood; the idea that in order to ascend so to speak and to take on role greater than you are, you have to either destroy yourself or be yourself destroyed. maria’s version of this story is, again, a tragedy. she is plagued by the stress of her destiny, haunted by nightmarish prophetic visions (which fucking DANKOVSKY doesn’t even BELIEVE), and completely alone, so much so that to express her love physically would destroy the object of her love, and yet she is still the incredible femme fatale i was talking about before. this is where i end up with the quote i captioned my painting of maria with: “a girl burns, and the sublime blossoms.”

i used the word sublime to describe maria twice in my writing, in that quote and in “her eyes are fierce, dark, sublime.” this is literally the best word i can come up with to describe the scarlet mistress, and the sublime is a big concept in aesthetic theory, but one which is hard to describe in itself. i try to portray elements of the sublime whenever i write or draw her although i’m not THAT good yet lol. it doesn’t have any physical or functional criteria except the feeling it causes (for a good example i think of the earthrise photo). this quote on the sublime, by edmund burke, feels very reminiscent of the way nina is described in game: “the passion caused by the great and sublime in nature, when those causes operate most powerfully, is astonishment, and astonishment is that state of the soul in which all its motions are suspended, with some degree of horror.” it’s awe-inspiring, it’s scary, it’s a force of nature, both refined and wild and personally impersonal, and it’s pretty much the only word i have for the iconic maria quote.... you know the one. “and you know, mother, that forge is me. sometimes i wake up with a burning in my chest, and the sky becomes crimson. in that very moment, if i kiss someone, they can see it too. it’s true.”

one last thing i LOVE about maria is the power of self and autonomy she retains, especially in 2. in the diurnal ending as the utopians are planning to cross the river (which was her plan in classic), maria says she doesn’t want to; she wants to stay and create, not art or buildings but people, to bring them into the sublime. her cruelty is how she nurtures those around her, as opposed to capella whose nurturing is in many ways cruel. and it’s in the diurnal ending that we first hear the title “crimson mistress”; where in classic, nina was the scarlet mistress and maria became the scarlet mistress, in 2 nina was the dark mistress and maria becomes crimson. there is no question that she’s not her mother. after all she’s endured, she forges herself into something new, not necessarily brighter but more visceral, takes her mother’s legacy and makes it her own.

so i guess tldr: what’s not to like about maria kaina?

#no more p2 bachelor route. maria route now #pathologic #maria kaina #i really got lost in the sauce here #Anonymous #asks

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ahgaseforeternity · 4 years ago

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Dangerous Woman— Lucas Wong edition

Lucas Wong || Part 5

In honor of Lucas’s birthday, I thought I would finally finish this fic! Enjoy!

A MORNING LIGHT SHIMMERED JUST AT the edge of your eyelids that were closed shut. It felt warm and refreshing. Strange, you hated mornings. The pillow you had your arms wrapped around was so soft and slicky, unlike the pillow you had at home.

The realization had you opening your eyes a tad too fast. You had to blink away the shimmering light from your eyes, and once you did you could hardly believe what was before you. It left you lifting your lips in a lazy smile.

Last night hadn’t been a dream after all. Lucas was lying next to you in the cozy bed, with his fingers gently touching yours where it lied on the pillow. He looked so peaceful, you didn’t want to disturb him, yet your fingers itched to run through his shining black hair that was muffled from the events of last night.

Last night.

You wanted to squeal into the pillow so badly. You had never experienced something so magical before in your life. What Lucas had made you feel last night, in this very bed, you had only ever read about in books. You never thought they might be real, but Lucas had proved they were in many, many different ways.

Thinking about it made you blush anew.

“Now, those blooming cheeks are a great thing to wake up to.”

You yelped softly, turning your face into the pillow before Lucas could really get a good look at your embarrassed face. You could feel his laugh ruffle the bed, and it made your stomach warm in the best way.

His laugh was possibly the best noise you have ever heard.

“Oh, come on Y/N. You weren’t hiding from me last night when I had made those cheeks even redder.”

You huffed. “Don’t remind me.” Yet some part of you didn’t want him to stop talking about what had happened. You wondered if last night was as great for him as if was for you. It sure seemed like it had been with all the moaning he had done. Thinking about it made your toes curl at the edge of the bed.

Lucas just laughed again, running his fingers lightly across your arm that wasn’t beneath the blanket. You couldn’t help it then, you had to turn at met his eyes, which were already staring into yours. Oh, you were melting, you were sure of it.

“Good morning, Y/N” Lucas leaned in and kissed your naked shoulder softly. You could hardly breathe, and Lucas knew. His eyes were shimmering with delighted amusement.

“Morning,” was all you could respond with. You realized then that you were still entirely naked, and so was he. You couldn’t decided if it completely thrilled or terrified you. There was something about the dark. It left things shroud where as in the daylight there was nothing to hide. You clutched the blanket closer to your bare chest.

Lucas scanned your face, seeing your distress. He simply leaned in to give you another kiss, but this time on your temple. It was so tender and sweet that you wanted to dissolve into the comfy bed and never leave, but all too soon, Lucas untangled himself from the sheet.

Which meant he was standing before you in all his naked, delicious glory. You didn’t know why you were acting so shy, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen or touched last night. Still, you found yourself yelping again, and turning away, but not before you got an eyeful of his broad shoulders and glorious backside.

“Lucas!”

“What, Y/N, you don’t like what you see?”

Of course you liked what you saw. You liked it far too much.

You heard his feet shuffling across the room, and you decided to slowly open your eyes to see that Lucas was nowhere to be seen. That’s when you heard the shower being turned on. Oh gosh. Lucas was in the shower, naked.

Of course he was naked, you thought. Why wouldn’t he be naked in the shower?

You could feel your face flaming up. You tried to fan yourself with the blankets, but they weren’t helping. If anything--taking a shower would help lessen how hot you felt. But, Lucas was in there. You couldn’t just barge in and slide right up in the steaming shower. The thought alone left you feeling all sorts of butterflies.

You stayed where you were, trying not to think of Lucas dripping with warm water from head to toe. You soon heard the water being shut off, and dove right back into the blankets when Lucas came out in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. Did this man want to kill you? At the rate your heart was beating, you were sure of it.

You heard him open a drawer in the room, and timidly pulled the blankets down again to see Lucas pulling on a pair of nice fitting jeans, and a grey pullover. His hair was still wet as he ran his fingers through it. You couldn’t help but wish those were your fingers instead. Gosh, he looked just as good in clothes as he did naked, and it was entirely unfair.

Lucas turned to you then, smiling from ear to ear.

“Do you want to wear some of my clothes?”

You blinked a few times at his question, barely listening as your eyes were distracted by his beautiful smile.

“I have a hoodie you could borrow and some sweats,” you watched Lucas pull some clothes from the same open drawer and bring them over to where you still lied in the nice, warm, safe, bed. He sat just next to where you legs were beneath the sheets. One of your knees was exposed, and Lucas sat the clothes down, gently lifting one of his fingers to trace over your skin.

It was incredible intimate and left you feeling weak.

You hurried to sit up and grabbed for the clothes. The hoodie looked perfect, oversized and comfy. It said something in Chinese and you went to ask Lucas what it meant.

His eyes sparkled.

“Danger.”

The name of his club. You wondered though, if Lucas was thinking of something else by the way he was looking at you. You hurried to slip on the hoodie before he could see any more of your exposing skin.

You needed to find your underwear though, before you set off for the bathroom. You scanned the floor, finding it close to the bedroom door. Lucas was already up and retrieving it though.

“No!”

He froze at your sudden outburst. Your ran from the bed, trying to keep your ass covered with the oversized hoodie as best you could, and then bent down for the lacey thong yourself. Even if Lucas had touched your underwear last night, didn’t mean you wanted him touching it in broad daylight.

You hurried to the bathroom, feeling Lucas’s heady stare on your legs until you closed the door. You pressed yourself against it, allowing yourself to breathe. In and out, in and out.

You had to keep reminding yourself that even when you turned on the hot water and stepped into the luxurious shower. Standing in Lucas’s, it made thinking about him naked beneath the shower head so much harder, but you tried, failing miserably though.

You tried to not get your hair wet and just hurried to wash off your body. It took you less than five minutes and you were already out. Luckily, there was a clean towel set on the counter just for you to use. You smiled thinking Lucas must’ve sat it there for you, while you dried yourself off.

It was amazing to you how thoughtful Lucas truly was. It made you wonder why you had been acting so strange all morning. Lucas had wanted you last night. Needed you, just as much as you needed him. He had told you himself. He wasn’t like your ex. He wasn’t going to hurt you. At least, you hoped.

You brushed your fingers through your hair the best you could, thankful that you still had your hair tie from last night around your wrist. You tied your hair into a pony, and pulled on Lucas’s clothes, having to roll up the sweats a few times to get them to reach your ankles.

Gosh, Lucas was so irresistibly tall. It was absolutely amazing.

You didn’t have a wick of make up on, but you hardly cared. Lucas had already seen your bare face when you showed up at the club in just your jeans and t-shirt.

As you opened the bathroom door, you found Lucas standing before the large windows that showed the snowy city below. You had complete forgot that it had snowed last night. The city looked beautiful, draped in freshly fallen snow. As you drew closer, Lucas looked over at your, smiling softly. It all about melted your core. Did he not know what he did to you? You were sure it showed on your cheeks now, you felt so warm.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked, offering his hand.

“Go where?” You asked, totally taken of guard by his question.

He kept smiling while he handed you a pair of cozy socks and Burk sandals. You were about to protest and say you could just where your own shoes, but then remembered you had worn heels. You smiled softly, “thanks.”

After you pulled them on, Lucas took your hand in his, pulling you through his penthouse until you were out the door. Walking through the quiet club was so strange. You couldn’t decide if you liked the place filled with people more, or empty. Right now, you were grateful that it was just you and Lucas. Well, and his bouncer, Stephan.

“Boss, the cars ready for you out front if you like.” The bouncer motioned out the club’s doors.

“Thank you Stephan, but we won’t be needing it today.”

You felt your brows grow close together. Where were you going that you wouldn’t need to drive? Lucas just smiled at the bouncer, pulling you after him as he walked through the front doors. The snow had let up, and the sidewalks had been shuffled enough that you prayed you wouldn’t slip and fall straight on your ass.

Lucas still gripped your hand tightly. His hand was so overpowering it left you feeling incredibly warm. You nuzzled closer to him. It earned you another stunning smile. “So, can I ask where you are taking me?”

Lucas turned to look ahead of you. “It’s a small Café just around the corner. It’s been there for awhile, and the breakfast is by far the best I’ve had. I thought it would be nice to go,” he nuzzled into you this time, “with you.”

You had to tighten your lips to keep some squealing. This man was just too perfect.

The sound of the city seemed to fall away as Lucas spoke to you about everything. He told you about his home life, about his other job being in kpop groups NCT and WayV.

“Wait, wait,” you had to stop him at that. “You sing?”

Lucas just smiled.

“Of course you do. Is there anything you don’t do?”

“Loads of stuff.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

You both laughed.

As you walked around a street corner, Lucas stopped you bluntly, and you had to grip onto his arm to keep from slipping in the snow. He helped you steady yourself. “Sorry, Y/N. I should’ve told you we are here.”

You turned to look at the quaint Cafe that sat smashed between two newer buildings. It did look rather old, but something about it spoke to you. The aesthetic of it was rather pleasing. Lucas opened the door, ushering you inside. The smell of fresh coffee brewing and brown sugar filled your senses. It left your mouth watering.

“Mr. Wong! I see your back again.”

A short man came to stand before both of you, smiling brightly.

“Hello, Mr. Ahn. Today doesn’t look too busy. Is my usual open?”

“Yes, of course! Right this way.”

The man now known as Mr. Ahn, who you learned was the owner, showed you to a table tucked away in the far back of the cafe. It was next to another window that looked out to a courtyard that was filled with a small gazebo. With the fresh snow surrounding it, it looked like some winter wonderland.

“This is your usual table huh? How often do you come here?” You asked Lucas after Mr. Ahn left to grab you your menus.

“Whenever my schedule allows me. You’ll see why. Mr. Ahn and his wife, Mrs. Ahn make some of the best French toast you’ll ever have. It’s drizzled with this coconut syrup that is just--,”

“Mouth watering?”

Lucas stopped talking and looked straight at you. You watched his eyes travel from yours down to your lips and back again. Your heart was pounding wildly.

“Very.”

You learned quickly that Lucas was right. The French toast was truly amazing, and unlike any you had ever tasted.

“I told you.”

You smiled at his remark, taking one last bite.

You had tried to prolong the meal by eating slow. You didn’t want the day to end. You dreaded having to leave Lucas’s side. You weren’t sure what was going to happen now. Just because you slept together--it didn’t mean you were dating. Even if you couldn’t imagine dating anyone else after what had transpired between you and Lucas.

The thought alone left you feeling terrible.

Lucas could see the shift in your mood, and didn’t say a word as he paid for the meal, and followed you out the door, not before thanking Mr. Ahn and his wife for the delicious meal.

As you stepped out the door, a snowflake fell onto your eyelash. You blinked it away, lifting your eyes to the sky to see snow started to fall again. It was beautiful against the tree lined streets that were covered in the white powder. Cars drove by but you could hardly hear them as Lucas took your hand in his, turning you to face him.

“Y/N.”

The sound of your name coming off his tongue left you wanting to cry. It was the way he said it, as if he was saying goodbye almost. You didn’t want to hear what else he had to say, and hurried to turn away from him, but Lucas wouldn’t let you.

“Y/N, wait.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and kept your eyes on your snow covered socks and sweats. Well, they were Lucas’s really. You had forgotten you were still wearing his clothes. That’s probably what he wanted, was his clothes back.

“I’ll clean them for you, and return them. I promise,” you said tugging on the hoodie.

“You better.”

You stilled at his words.

“I expect to see you again.”

You lifted your eyes to his then, seeing them shimmering with something you had completely forgotten about. Love. He lifted one of his fingers and tugged a stray hair behind you ear, leaving his thumb there to trace your lower cheek. His touch was so warm and inviting, that you found yourself stepping closer.

“You do?”

“Of course. Besides, it’s my birthday today.”

You stilled. “It’s your birthday? Why didn’t you say something?!” You swatted his arm, not hard enough to hurt but enough to get him to laugh.

“Because I don’t have any expectations for my birthday, and I knew once I told you, you would think I did.”

You were about to protest, but stopped when you realized that Lucas was right. You would’ve totally said something like that, only because when came to someone’s birthday, they didn’t usually spend it with a complete stranger they had just slept with.

“If we hadn’t come here today, I would’ve spent my birthday the way I always do. Alone.” The way he said it made your heart hurt. No one deserved to be alone on their birthday, not even those who did deserve it. You gripped his hand tighter.

“Well, I’m thankful you brought me here and allowed me to spend your birthday with you.” You exclaimed. Lucas just stared at you, as if he was searching for something. It left you blushing.

“You know what I really want for my birthday?” Lucas asked, leaning in closer.

Snowflakes gently fell onto his hair and eyelashes, making him look unreal. You could hardly breathe as your eyes fell to his mouth if only for a second.

“For you to spend it with me, every year.”

You widened your eyes, meeting his. You thought he was joking, but from the seriousness in his eyes, you knew he was being completely honest. He cupped your face then, bringing your face even closer to his.

“Stay with me, Y/N. Stay and spend time with me. Let me get to know you, to see you at work amongst all those books. Let me make love to you slowly, not like last night where everything had been so rushed. Just—stay and be with me.”

You couldn’t believe the words that had stumbled out of his mouth, but your heart was pounding uncontrollably, so you knew Lucas had said them, and that they were true. Lucas wanted to be with you, just as much as you wanted to be with him.

And it left you breathless.

All you could think to do was bring his lips to you. It was soft and tender, unlike the heated kisses you had only shared thus far, and it left you feeling light and warm against the snowy scenery.

Lucas wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your feet lifted off the ground and pressed you against his chest. You had your own arms wrapped around his shoulders, loving the feel of his embrace all around you.

You broke away from his lips, pressing your forehead to his. He slowly brought you back down to the ground, but didn’t release his arms from around you. He kept his forehead pressed to yours, as you touched his beautiful face with your chilled fingers. Lucas didn’t seem to mind though, as he just stared at you.

“Happy Birthday, Lucas.” You smirked. It was the only answer he needed, as he leaned in to kiss you again. You both ignored the people walking by, the cars rushing in the white flecks, and focused on each other.

You were so grateful for that night weeks ago. If you hadn’t entered the club that night, you wouldn’t be holding the precious miracle you were now. Were grateful that you had taken a chance, and allowed Lucas to sweep you off your feet.

You weren’t planning on ever letting go.

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#Lucas Wong #Lucas Wong edit #Lucas wong fanfic #kpop #my work #my fanfic writing #wayv #nct #lucas wayv #lucas nct #kpop fluff #wayv fluff #nct fluff #wayv fanfic

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white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen · 5 years ago

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Bite (Part Three)

Summary: Peter’s team is invited onto a big case in which their involvement will have serious consequences. (Part 3/3)

Word Count: 5,077

Warning: Some violence and not-so-subtle PTSD

Additional Note: Some prison slang is used in this chapter and explained here for clarity. Shiv = stab, smokes = cigarettes, “a dime” = ten years.

“I want you to know that I didn’t intend for this to happen,” he said finally, lifting his head. His usually kissable lips were frowning. “And I tried resisting.”

That made you frown. What was there to resist? Coercion? “Resisting what?” You asked him worriedly.

That worry only increased tenfold when he answered, “Blood.”

~~~ Bite ~~~

Of the hundreds, even thousands of things that you knew Neal could have said, what he actually did say hadn’t even made the list – but it sure was eerie, and if his goal was actually to pull your leg, set you off-kilter, then he had succeeded without a doubt.

“Blood?” You echoed, recoiling and leaning away from him in your chair. His eyes darted briefly to your shoulders as they moved back before he looked to your face again, his mouth tightening unhappily. “What the hell, Neal, I’m being serious!”

“So am I,” he responded, looking momentarily hurt. “I told you, I didn’t want this.”

You still didn’t understand. “This – this being what?”

Neal licked his dry lips and looked over your shoulder, his eyes fixated on a spot on the wall. “This goes back to the Brady case,” he admitted. You leaned back towards him, both to hear his quiet speech and because you had realized you’d moved away. No matter how unsettled you were, you knew your friend would never hurt you and there was no need to put distance in the way. “The last operation.”

“The one that failed.” You remembered it well. The concern and fear when your team stopped responding, the anger towards Brady, and the sympathy and worry for Neal and Peter, who had both been through an awful experience. Not to mention the paranoia and distrust that had rocked the office in the immediate aftermath. “Someone had tipped him off.”

“No,” Neal corrected you quickly, and you looked to his eyes sharply. How could he know what had happened? Not even OPR had managed to figure out why the operation took a nosedive. “There wasn’t a mole. Brady had already made us himself from the second Peter went to scare him.”

How? Peter had worked many high-profile cases, but was careful to stay out of the spotlight, and the bureau had liaisons who did their best to make sure agents didn’t get their pictures out in the media. Did they miss one? Was that how Brady recognized Peter? But then, how had he tied Neal to Peter, and why risk going to prison when he could have simply cut ties with Nick Halden and fled the country?

“If he knew it was a setup, then why did he call you back to his office?” You questioned.

Neal sighed softly. “Spitefulness. Pettiness. Malice.” You took in a breath as you understood. It wouldn’t have been enough for Brady to just not fall into the trap. He had to make the feds regret trying to trick him. Neal looked down at his hands and stroked the thumb of one hand firmly against the palm of the other while he kept calm and recounted what had happened. “Peter could have been a cop doing his job. Me, I was clearly undercover, manipulating him.”

You cut in with another question. “What I don’t get is how he knew you weren’t Nick.” You were very careful in the bureau to keep the identities of Neal Caffrey and Nick Halden separate. “How did he make the connection?”

Neal hesitated and he looked down again, his beautiful blue eyes training on the repetitive movement of his hands. You decided to give him a count, and if he didn’t answer in ten seconds, you were going to say his name in a stern tone. You only got to eight before he looked up, mouth open to talk. He stopped himself short, swallowed, and turned his head to look towards the glass doors before he started again.

“He knew I wasn’t who I said because he knew Peter and I had been spending time together.” Neal was shifty in a way you hadn’t seen before. There was his usual fashion of shiftiness, quick and deflective, when he was trying to get away with a lie of omission, particularly when he had come to a case lead through not-so-scrupulous ways. Then there was this – shifty out of discomfort, unease, like he felt squirmy just for thinking about it. “When Peter went to his office, Brady could smell me.”

Neal stopped, giving you time to think, to catch up, and to understand. You looked at him and he was still facing away from you, so you just saw the hardness in his jaw as he gritted his teeth.

“Neal, we aren’t dogs, people can’t smell other people,” you exasperatedly started to say, but slowed down. This wasn’t just Neal trying to spin a story. It was his freedom on the table, and if he wanted to lie then he could be much more convincing. It was true that people couldn’t smell other people – but maybe Brady wasn’t a person, wasn’t a human.

Blood.

“No,” you whispered, feeling petrified. Had Brady-?

“People can’t,” Neal agreed softly, looking to his hands again. You could see his knuckles whitening as he pressed into his palm harder, relieving his stress and anxiety with pressure. “Vampires can.”

~~~ Bite ~~~

Something had been off from the start, but Neal didn’t want to be hasty and pull the plug on a good operation. Though he was guilty of pressing Ruiz’s buttons, Neal understood the agent’s desperation to catch this shady businessman and wanted to do what he could to hold Brady accountable for murder. Brady didn’t have any extra muscle with him, nor did he change the meeting place to somewhere without people in shouting distance, so Neal thought that even if he was twitchy, he wasn’t completely sold on his paranoia. As long as he was careful, he would get out unscathed.

It didn’t take long for Brady to bring up Peter, which surprised Neal slightly. Maybe the man was jumpier than he had thought. Neal was being cautious and calculating, but on the outside he made sure to be flippant and unruffled, like a pestering FBI agent was neither new nor troubling. Brady didn’t take the offered bait in Neal’s response, though, and instead asked a very pointed question.

“And what experience would you happen to have with the feds, Nick?” Brady had asked testily, staring down at Neal from where he was sitting on the edge of his own desk. The man’s hazel eyes looked dark and thin around the wide pupils, and Neal decided right then that it was too close of a call. There was too much excitement in his system for it to be a hypothetical question, and a person couldn’t dilate their eyes on will.

He almost missed the businessman’s hand moving into a desk drawer while formulating a response. “I’ve met a few,” Neal replied evenly, scowling, in character, not appreciating the insinuation that he cooperated with feds. “But none were a very hard sell.” He did see the motion as Brady took his hand out of the desk drawer, holding onto nothing. He was curious what it had been for, but mostly he was grateful that Brady hadn’t taken out a gun.

“Is that so?” Brady asked, easing himself off the desk. He put his back to Neal, and while he wasn’t looking, Neal let out a slow breath, sure to keep it silent so that his relief wasn’t heard. The company founder circled his furniture and Neal willed him to stay on that side of it and keep the three-foot piece between them.

��“It is,” Neal said, cocking his head to portray Nick’s (earned) arrogance. He just had to wait another thirty seconds, maximum. The phrase ‘hard sell’ was the safe word. There would be at least one, but probably two or three, agents storming in before Brady had a chance to even go for the gun safe Neal knew was behind that framed picture on the wall.

“Mm. Funny.” Brady commented coolly, staring at Neal like he thought the conman would be easily intimidated. It was almost insulting, really – if a good stare were all it took, Neal would still be a starving street scammer. “Because, see, I know from a reliable source that you’re all buddy-buddy with Agent Burke.”

It was truly a test of self-control not to give away the mounting anxiety. Neal played it off while counting down in his head. “Sounds to me like you need to get better sources,” he snarked. Twenty seconds.

“Based on what you’re saying, I can’t trust anyone these days.” Brady just sounded angrier now. Neal wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have just made a move to excuse himself and taken his chances, but it was too late now, and Brady had less than twenty seconds left.

“It’s a very disappointing world we live in,” Neal hinted stoically. Fifteen seconds.

Brady opened up a desk drawer and Neal shifted his feet slightly, prepared to get up if the businessman took out a firearm. “Not even myself,” Brady growled lowly, and Neal did hear a growl under the words, like he was in the room with an angry bear and not just a slighted crook.

“What are you saying?” Neal challenged him coolly, and immediately regretted it, because Brady took out a long dagger with a curved scythe on one side. Suddenly, ten seconds seemed like an awfully long time to wait, so the conman decided to give his team an incentive to hurry up. “That’s an awfully big knife you have there,” he casually remarked while standing quickly from his seat.

Brady shut the drawer by hitting it with his knee. “I could smell you on him the minute he walked into my office,” the man hissed, a low, animalistic growl emanating from his throat between words. “You’re working for them. You came in here thinking you could take me? I’m the one doing the taking.”

“Who said anything about fighting?” Neal put his hands up to show that he was unarmed and harmless while backing away. The man was inching around the desk and Neal was still counting two seconds in his head, but now he couldn’t afford to wait patiently. “Listen to yourself. This is insane!” He laughed nervously. Anyone would be nervous when someone was angrily threatening them with a knife that looked like a cross between a dagger and a filleter. “I’m in cahoots with him just because we wear the same cologne?”

“It wasn’t cologne!” Brady shouted, his forehead turning pink as it crept up his ears and the side of his neck. He took a sudden, lunging step forward and Neal dropped his arms, pivoting on his heel to sprint for the door.

He hadn’t cleared three paces before a hand caught the back of his shirt and yanked him by the collar. The pressure of his tie knot yanking up into his throat made him cough and splutter while being manhandled towards the left wall. The artist stumbled, feeling an ankle slip and twist, and Brady, who had somehow moved twice as fast as Neal, threw the younger man to the ground with strength not remotely suggested by his frame.

A kick to the side had Neal on his hands and knees, groaning through gritted teeth and trying to focus on the way out. It had been long enough. There were three agents already in the suite – if they weren’t here yet, then it had to be either they couldn’t hear or they had been trapped, too. Neal prayed for the former. If they heard radio silence for too long then they would know something had happened. Wouldn’t they? Right?

“It’s not a bad plan,” Brady chuckled, seeming to be over his sudden rage. The growling sound had stopped. “Might’ve worked, too, if I didn’t have this extra ace.” He moved his right hand with the dagger.

Neal flinched back, ducking his head to protect his face, waiting for the sting of a cut or the pierce of a stab. Neither came, and the apprehension had his hands trembling on the low-height rug. He looked up despite his better judgment and dropped his jaw in shock. Brady had sliced open his own wrist and was letting his blood drip down his hand.

The man gave him a nasty smile when he saw Neal’s surprise. “This?” He waved the knife carelessly. “It isn’t for you. This is.” He put out his bleeding hand near Neal’s head and he cringed away, keeping far from the blood.

“What kind of sick game are you playing?” Neal panted, eyes going to the office door, begging it to open. He didn’t care who was on the other side – just someone sane. Someone who would help him.

“Don’t be such a priss,” Brady snapped irritably. “You’ll have to get used to blood.” He put the dagger slowly down towards Neal’s right side, holding the blade uncomfortably close to the artist’s cheek. Neal gritted his teeth. “This’ll be for you if you don’t. Make the better choice, Nick. Survive.” Neal didn’t answer. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be choosing and didn’t want to give Brady the satisfaction of knowing that he was ignorant and confused. He just stared down at Brady’s hard, polished shoes. “Come on,” Brady coaxed lowly, the growl beginning again. “Play along. It’s eat or be eaten.”

Neal swore his heart doubled in pace right then as he understood, no further questioning necessary. It was all lining up. It was impossible. It was obvious. The sense of smell, the growl, the speed, the strength, the blood. What did he want more? To stay human or stay alive? Did he even fully know what it meant, to be something other than human in this time? Surely the last time a person made this choice, it was in the days of Salem.

“Tick, tock.” Brady’s voice had a chilling edge that Neal had only heard come from Adler before. The cold flat of the dagger was pressed into Neal’s shoulder and the clinging drops of Brady’s blood soaked into his suit jacket. “It’s been a long time since I was this generous. I don’t like being ignored.”

Life or death. Half-life or death. Whichever it was, it was something other than death. Neal didn’t want to die. He had the home he was making for himself during his work-release, and he intended to keep it once he was free. The entire world was waiting for him when he was free. He had friends, good ones, people he loved, that he wanted to see again. Neal didn’t understand why anyone would ever choose death, so truly, regardless of what Brady said, it had never been a real choice to begin with. He had to accept that help wasn’t coming. Not this time.

Neal didn’t choose to live. He had to live, and he did what he had to for survival. Brady kept the knife on his shoulder with the scythe turned towards his neck, just in case he got any ideas.

How much? How long? He felt choked by the thick blood in his throat. “Stop,” he pleaded in a cough, muffled by the vampire’s split skin. “No, no.” He started to turn his head but a hand grabbed his hair and yanked him back while the wrist at his mouth pushed harder on his lips. The pain lancing through his skull made his eyes water. The flat of the knife pressed harder into Neal’s shoulder, reminding him how close the blade was to his throat, forcing his obedience.

As he drank more blood, Neal felt increasingly sick. Like he was forcing down spoiled milk, his stomach twisted and clenched. His face felt hot. This was supposed to turn him? It felt more like poison. The cramping was so bad that it made him lightheaded and he could almost stop tasting the iron on his tongue. The slamming open of the door didn’t register at all in the side of his vision, but Neal did hear Peter’s voice from far away.

“Drop the knife!” His partner was screaming. The knife pressed harder into Neal’s shoulder and the artist felt the hand leave his hair. “Drop it!”

The wrist was moved at last. His lips still felt wet. Neal swallowed and gagged, shutting his eyes tightly and pressing his hand into his abdomen in pain.

“Should’ve known you’d come back for more, Burke. You don’t know when to quit,” the vampire snarled above him.

The pressure at his shoulder was released and suddenly the legs were gone from in front of him. Neal slouched forward, barely catching himself with his free hand. The colors were blurring and turning feverishly bright. Whatever Brady did whilst Neal was staring sickly at the carpet, Peter didn’t like it; the gunshot sounded like a bomb, like another exploding jet, right in his ears. Neal screamed as he collapsed onto his side. It was too loud. Too loud. No more bombs. He was so hot. The white of the walls was so hot. It all burned his eyes.

Peter’s voice was angry – no, well, yes, angry but also scared – and there was another bomb right behind him. Neal sobbed, curling in as much as he could to protect himself. His insides felt like they were on fire and he could see, again, the flames of the jet on the backs of his eyelids. He thought he could smell smoke. Explosives.

All he could think was how it was happening again. He had lost Kate and now he was losing the people he loved, again, in more explosions. They took Y/N, they must have, that must have been the first – now second – bomb. And he couldn’t hear Peter anymore, not since the second – third overall – why did this keep happening -

“Neal. Neal!”

A hand shook his shoulder, digging in as tight as claws. “Peter,” Neal gasped, barely able to breathe through the pain and the grief.

“It’s me, buddy.” His partner’s face was suddenly there and Neal realized he’d opened his eyes. When had he closed them? Peter was swimming. His skin was all bright. Something was very wrong and even though his brain felt like it was baking, Neal knew the problem was with himself. “Keep your eyes on me, okay? Help is coming.”

~~~ Bite ~~~

Vampires were largely thought to be extinct. If they had survived the periods of hunting and slaughter, then they had opted to keep to themselves in remote locations. Brady must have been one of the few left, and somehow slipped under the radar for decades to avoid being detected. That explained why he was so hard to find a history on. While they were best known (and most feared) for relying on the blood of others to survive, most folk stories said they had superhumanly keen senses. Some reported abnormal speed and strength, but those accounts were relatively new to the folklore; whether or not they were true was anyone’s guess.

Except for Neal, who didn’t need to guess. Who had learned, firsthand, how quickly those keen senses had set in, and who had torturously learned while his mind was suggestible, terrified, and hazy from the illness and agony of an unwanted mutation. You couldn’t even imagine how horrifying must have been to smell the gunpowder, hear the explosions so intensely, and attach a feverish heat to the brightness of the colors. It was no wonder Neal had called out in the following days.

“Help did come,” Neal murmured, not meeting your eyes. “But I don’t remember much after that. My memory’s in and out until a couple days afterwards.”

“So… you’re a vampire now?” Was the first thing you quietly asked him. Neal looked at you and nodded once, jaw tight, eyes looking dark. You couldn’t imagine how angry, scared, cheated he must feel for having this virus shoved onto him. “So that means you need blood,” you continued, talking through your train of thought. Neal had seemed to rebound awfully fast between the first and second weeks after the incident – maybe because he had stopped starving. “The prostitutes,” you realized. “You’re not paying them for sex, you’re paying them for blood.”

“There’s mutually-assured destruction if they report me,” Neal claimed almost defensively. His shoulders were still open but you could see how badly he wanted to just turn away and fold his arms protectively around himself. “To say how they know what I am, they’d have to admit I hired them. Sex work is still criminal. And, because of their work, most of them get screened every three months.”

“But you don’t know what they’ve caught in the meantime, or what they might do to you or tell other people,” you said, dismayed. Neal was putting himself at risk in many different ways, and the worst part was it wasn’t his regular brand of headlong overconfidence. He truly did not feel he had any alternatives. “Neal, you could have told us, we’re your friends, we could have helped.”

“Helped how?” Neal scoffed so harshly that it sounded like it hurt his throat. “This isn’t reversible. I have to live with this for the rest of my life. If I told, and the bureau decided that being this thing makes me a liability, or a public safety issue, then I go back to prison. Being a snitch and a vampire? The first guy to shiv me would win free smokes for a dime. I wanted my friends. I hate what I have to do. None of it was a gamble I could afford to take.”

You looked down for a minute, understanding. It hurt that he thought his team, you included, might do anything that put him at risk. The last thing you wanted was to see him in prison. He had to have been scared. Upset. Angry. Frightened for his safety and his future, and his health. And what was he going to do if he couldn’t afford a hooker’s prices every week? You were so hurt that he didn’t trust you enough to come to you after you had been so close to taking that step into being more than friends, but as you tried to see it from his perspective, you couldn’t fault him for it.

“I wanted my friend, too,” you admitted to him, looking up guiltily. If you had pressed sooner, maybe you could have convinced him to tell you everything weeks ago.

Neal’s face softened in response as he finally loosened up. Strands of dark hair tumbled out of his coif and into his face as he shook his head gently and reached for you, putting a hand on the side of your thigh and leaning towards your chair.

“It isn’t your fault,” he promised you in spite of his frown. “No one would have guessed. How could you? Vampires are supposed to have died out. I didn’t want to risk myself, and I didn’t want to scare you.”

“You wouldn’t have scared me,” you promised immediately. There wasn’t even a thought behind it. Neal had never, could never scare you; this you had known for what felt like forever. Even when you finally connected the pieces and knew what he was telling you, there hadn’t been fear in your system. Just shock, and fear on his behalf, and so much sympathy that you almost cried.

“I scared myself,” he disagreed, implying that you would have been scared, too. He stroked his fingers down to your knee before pulling his hand off. “That first week, everything hurt so badly I could barely speak. Everything was so much brighter and so much louder. Nothing I cooked satisfied the hunger, and then I had to spend eight hours a day surrounded by dozens of bodies of fresh blood.” The conman swallowed hard while thinking about it. “It would be like if you hadn’t eaten in days, then sat for hours in a steakhouse and couldn’t order anything.”

It should have been chilling to hear Neal compare his coworkers – yourself presumably included – to steaks, but oddly, it wasn’t. You couldn’t pull a Dahmer comparison out of your hat and you still didn’t feel remotely threatened. However desperate he may have been, Neal had never caved. He had never hurt anyone. You had always loved his pacifism and no matter how his biology may have changed, his recount only seemed to prove that his self, Neal, had not.

“Every time I think I know how strong you are,” you told him, amazed and impressed. “It turns out that I’m still underestimating you.” To be so hungry and so in pain, and to keep to himself for fear, and still be able to function in the office? He had been quiet, sullen, out of character, but functional. That was a feat.

Neal’s eyes widened just a touch before he blinked and tried to reign in his surprise. The more you talked, now, the more you could see the tension draining from his body. The negative reaction he had anticipated failed to occur, and the artist was beginning to see that there was no need for all his anxiety. His shoulders and back were less straight and he sat more comfortably, more openly, to continue conversing.

“Ah…”

Unsure how to respond to your compliment, Neal looked at the matching mugs of coffee still on the table. You now wondered why he had brewed himself one when he had already said that he needed blood to be sated, but then again, Neal had always been a creature of comforts, not just necessity.

With his left hand, he rubbed the back of his neck. The informant had to think for a moment and figure out where to resume his story. “Right, well…” Neal looked so young with relief and uncertainty on his face. It took a lot of self-control not to just reach out, cup his cheeks, and kiss his forehead with a promise that everything would be okay. He cleared his throat. “At the end of that first week, I realized I couldn’t put it off any further. Nothing was working, and I don’t think I could forgive myself if my stubbornness and my hunger meant I lost control and hurt someone. I found a streetwalker for discretion, and…”

You put your hand up there. He was clearly uncomfortable with what he had resorted to, and you had already covered his means of sustenance. Neal moved around in his seat to reposition himself.

“They’re not all willing to be bitten,” Neal said warily. “But someone I talked to knew a friend who charges extra for people who like blood.” You raised your eyebrows. Something told you that the kind of work she charged extra for was different from what Neal was asking, but at least he had found a source. “She was willing, and she’s who you saw last week, too.”’

“I’m so sorry you were alone,” you told him, reaching out yourself. Neal didn’t pull away from your hand, but he eyed it until you had been touching his arm for a few seconds without moving. “But you were alone. You aren’t now.”

“I’m used to keeping secrets… keeping to myself… because of my choices.” The artist lifted his head and looked up your arm to your face. He chose his words carefully and spoke haltingly, worrying his bottom lip between phrases. “I’m used to choosing a guarded life... there’s no choice in this.” His eyes looked so deep and so sad. “But I can choose not to bring you down with me.”

Before you could object that Neal would never “bring you down”, as he put it, or even say that he still had choices he could make to keep his life his own, Neal looked down from you and his shoulders shuddered noticeably while he inhaled an uneven breath. He had to work hard for it, and couldn’t keep it, and had to try again, keeping everything he was feeling held at bay long enough to keep up his strong face and hold a level tone. You wanted to surge forward and wrap your arms around him and hold on until sunrise, and you equally wanted to scold him for acting like a martyr. Before you could choose which to do, he looked up again and his expressive eyes were filled with water that just hadn’t fallen yet. The air was punched out of your sails by that vulnerable, lost look. It was the look of a man who had had everything ripped away from him.

“I wanted our later,” Neal whispered sadly with a quaver.

“Later.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

If Neal thought all it took was one tragically traumatic, life-changing event to rip that away, then he must not realize how serious you had been when you acknowledged his promise and made it your own. You couldn’t fix everything that was broken, but you weren’t leaving him alone. He had made a promise, one he still wanted to keep, and like hell were you going to let him decide for you that the promise needed to be broken.

His health, safety, security – the two of you were clever, resourceful people. You would find a way. As for his found home, though he thought he was helplessly losing everything, Neal had every right to the life he had earned and he was surrounded by people who cared for him more deeply than he realized.

You squeezed his arm gently while taking his other hand. Eyes on his, you said solemnly, “I still do,” and forced his hand open so that you could interlock your fingers with his. “And you know what?”

Neal swallowed and his voice scratched in his throat while he struggled to hold back the tears. “What?”

You stood up from your chair, took a step to his, and bent down to his level. Neal lifted his head as you moved to follow your actions and when he blinked up at you, his eyes cleared and teardrops swiftly rolled down his cheeks. Ignoring them, you tilted your head to press your forehead tenderly to his. Neal blinked again before shutting his eyes and tightening his grip on your fingers.

“Later is now,” you told him quietly.

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enby-crisis · 5 years ago

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Me Before You (Draco Malfoy x Reader) Pt. 1

Okay let’s give this a shot... I've had this one for awhile and its actually a series I was writing for Watt-pad but lets see house it does here as a test.

Masterlist

Summary: Follows the timeline of Half Blood Prince. Reader is the cousin of Voldemort. That will make more sense later. I solemnly swear. Reader is a Slytherin. (Sorry to the other houses... mostly Ravenclaw) Y/n Guant is the first born girl in two generations to not be born a squib. Before the disappearance of Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord ordered Marty Crabs Jr. to make sure that her halfblood father and squib mother were murdered and take her to be raised by her uncle as his own and to have pureblood beliefs so one day she can marry the Malfoy's son to keep the bloodline going. Lucius and Narcissa were to make sure that the children were to be married and for that reason always loved her around. Since she looked just like her uncle she never doubted she was anything else but theirs. She’s known Draco all her life and by her sixth year already had a relationship with each other. Not all endings are happy are they?

Borgin And Burkes

I wait for the Malfoy family to arrive in the small shop. Pacing and pacing until the door eventually swung open. I sighed in relief when I lay eyes on the tall platinum blonde boy that I've known since childhood.

I made eye contact before looking down to take the stride over to go hug him. I hadn't seen him since the hearing for his father that Voldemort had me attend with Draco and Narcissa to oversee the event of Lucius being placed into Azkaban but were not allowed to speak until Draco was to become a death eater.

"Not so fast there, (Y/n)," Voldemort spoke in monotone, "His family has disgraced us. You must do your casualties after the ceremony. Please let him prove his loyalty to you and I once more."

I take my steps back to my cousin's side obediently and give an apologetic smile to Draco. He nods discreetly in understanding of the situation.

I looked back to Voldemort who smiled cunningly at me. I shivered but gave a small smile of my own.

"Good girl," He praised, "This is why you don’t need my mark." Draco looked at me in confusion and I pulled my blouse sleeve up to explain the comment a bit. He looked back to Voldemort when he figured out what was going on.

"I knew you were loyal from the start. My own blood runs through you my sweet girl. You are bound for better! You don't have to prove yourself to me. Ever. Now! All of you follow me."

He ordered and took Bellatrix's arm and my own as we apparated to a large field with steps leading up to show an angel statue. It was probably a dead relatives grave but he didn't care. The rest of the people in Borgin and Burkes were soon behind us.

I followed my cousin up the stairs and stopped on his left side, always a step behind him. Whatever he did, I was expected to do as well.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," Voldemorts voice rang directly in my ears.

Draco turned around and ripped his arm out of Narcissa's grip. She dropped her hand and walked to go stand by her sister at the first step. Other loyalists were standing behind them. Mostly the last heirs to the pure blood families known as the Scared Twenty-Eight. Any family that still remained pure blood at the end of the 1930s. These ones were loyalist who pledged themselves to Voldemort the first time during the first wizarding war. Before I was born. Not too long before. I was born almost exactly eight months later.

"Come forth to receive the mark that so many before you find as a great responsibility and honor to receive." Voldemort continued.

Draco took slow and careful steps up to where we were standing.

"Pledge your loyalty to me as your father and aunt did before you all those years ago. Swear your inevitable allegiance to me as your lovely betrothal to my sweet (Y/n) has done." Draco reached the top of the stairs and rooted his feet at the top step a pace in front of Voldemort.

"Promise to continue the pure Slitherin bloodline for generations to come."

Voldemort asked for my wand with a closing motion of his hand. I placed my 13 inch wand in his hand. With its core of a dragon heart string it will do just fine for this task of drawing the ink in Draco's forearm. Why he wasn't using his own wand confused me but asking questions wasn't an option for me. Voldemort grasps my wand with both hands admiring the Brazilian Olivewood carving of a snake before pushing Draco on his knees and pulling his sleeve that covered his left forearm. Always the left.

Draco looked at me as tears had welled in my eyes. Fear of the future rooting my emotions. I'm also mad. It seemed unfair for the two of us to have our lives planned so thoroughly. I placed my hand over my mouth for a moment to stop myself from making any unwanted sounds. Then they were back in tight fists at my side as the scene unraveled.

"I'm sorry" I mouthed to him the second his eyes glance to mine.

"Don't! Look at her. Look at me." Voldemort said with anger laced in his tone as he began to cast the spell to draw out the dark mark. Draco's attention shifts while I adverted my eyes to the another tombstone nearby but focused on the spell casting as well. He grabbed Draco's arm and spoke only to say the spell "Morsmordre."

Draco winced as a snake and skull had woven themselves together on his arm. It wasn't quite the most comfortable spell that can be casted. Or so Voldemort told me. He wanted there to be pain. He wanted control.

Voldemort dropped his arm and turned to me, returning my wand with bitter words. "Foolish girl." He murmured. I assumed due to the tears still pricking my eyes. I have truly fallen for this boy. "There. You can have him."

Draco stood and I ran to him almost pushing both of us down the stairs. Once he wrapped his arms around my back whimpers escaped me as my held back tears flowed more freely.

"Please." I murmur in Draco's ear. He knows what I mean. "I wont let you do this alone." He whispers back. "Nor will I." I say while staring at his mother and aunt.

Voldemort descended the stairs. All thirteen of them by floating back down to where Bellatrix was.

"Make sure she gets what she needs for school, Bell. I need the boy alone for a moment." She nodded.

He didn't bother to face us as he called for Draco to return to the small alleyway with his mother to reenter the shop once more that day and Bellatrix didn't mind pulling me out of Draco's death grip to apparate in front of the bank. Narcissa and Draco were next to us in a swirl moments later. They walked off towards the shop and I followed Bellatrix who was heading to a nearby store. Draco glanced at us before Bellatrix pulled me into a book store next to Olivanders. She handed me almost twenty five Galleons and turned around to walk off back to Bogin and Burkes but I grabbed her wrist to delay her.

"What happened to the wand shop?" I tried to hide the concern in my voice.

"Nothing that concerns you. Go get your supplies-" She spoke to me as if I was just an innocent child.

"But-," I tried to protest. I guess I still was.

"Now! (Y/n) please just do as you are told. Or we will both be in trouble." I have no idea why people like to remember my status and importance to the Dark Lord after they raise their voice at me.

"Yes, of course Trixie," I mocked with a swift crossing of my arms.

She growled at me before disappearing in a swirling motion before me. I quickly get the books and what small amount of school supplies we need for the new year for Draco and I so I can explore Olivanders.

I walk in pushing my way though broken glass and scatted wands. I bend down to pick one up. An 8 inch oak wood wand. It sparks in my hand in protest to it being out of its place on the shelves. Unicorns hair.

I wave my own wand in the air to repair the broken glass. The wands that were broken laid on the floor or shelves, lifeless. I started to pick up all the irreplaceable wands to discard of them later. I spend quite a few hours cleaning up the shop and remembering the summer of my third year that I spent in here helping Mr. Olivander.

Since the day I walked in here with Evan, my father, Mr. Olivander told me that I was capable of great things. I knew as much information about the wands he presented to me as I could. He was the wizard responsible for me raiding the train my first year looking for the wand with the almighty phoenix feather core. He told me how to feel the cores of wands.

Its how Draco and I became friends all those years ago and eventually more then friends. I may or may not have stolen his wand. Before that he never did like me as our parents forced us to be around each other. Go to birthdays and holidays together. Never anything either of us wanted to do but were both too polite and scared to speak up. When I stole his wand he finally saw me as a person. He wanted to kill me but grew respect for me taking it out of his sleeve without him noticing until I gave it back.

I was told stories about his mother and aunt. Bellatrix was never around when we were kids due to her arrest and when she was around she treated me like a kid. She though that any other treatment would be disrespectful to Voldemort's little princess. Since I was related to him, somehow she began fearing my rejection as well.

As the dark night sky settles in I walk out of the shop, locking the door before making my way to Malfoy Manor.

Me Before You pt 2

#draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #slytherin #x reader #draco lucius malfoy #hogwarts #fanfic #draco x reader #me before you

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