#you have GOT to make sure you put emphasis on his words this is crucial

[simplepotatofarmer]

as a Certified Expert (cc!dream once quoted one of my fics), the best advice i can give on writing c!dream is to remember that he basically speaks in italics.

[sabraeal]

If the Mind Is Willing, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Written for @claudeng80, who has been waiting longer than a month now for this birthday fic, and who has indeed beta'd this birthday fic as well, for we long ago passed the point where we pretend with each other that our final drafts are our first drafts. And though she cannot and will never see those first drafts because that is a layer of vulnerability on par with peeling off my skin to show off my bones, she can at least see my seconds drafts. Where she will then promptly tell me that I am missing a crucial word in a sentence, and maybe I should consider a comma or maybe a whole ass period, or possibly learn to spell words the way the god or at least the Oxford Dictionary intended. Because that is what friendship is all about 🤣

The problem is: it feels like too much.

The suitcase had been a given, of course; Chizuru only had the one, a gift from Father on her twelfth birthday, meant to be used on the single vacation he’d set aside time to take her on. Even after six years, the flower decals still looked like they’d been applied yesterday, pink a vibrant cherry blossom, only the dint on one corner to serve as proof it had ever been used. Disney World might have only lasted two days before a work emergency had them hopping the next flight back home, but at least the Orlando baggage carousel had left its mark. It’d been a happy reminder of better days when she’d been living out of it for those few weeks, unsure of where she would land— or whether she ever would.

It’s only— she hadn’t thought it would be full. Chizuru wouldn’t call herself a light packer by any means, but the event’s only three days, at a hotel that is possibly twenty minutes door-to-door, at least when school’s in session. It hardly seems like the sort of thing that calls for a suitcase filled to the brim. Above the brim even, if she were gutsy enough to take Kimigiku’s costume out of the garment bag— which she isn’t. It’d been heart-pounding enough putting Sen’s paper-wrapped kimono in there, let alone something with parts and pieces and things that could very easily scatter under her bed skirt and be lost for eternity.

Which brought her tally to one suitcase (over laden), one garment bag (to be treated with care), and the small travel pack she’d slung over her chest (overstuffed), gone over a half dozen times each, pared down to the barest bones, and still, still—

She can’t possibly take up this much space. Even in Shinpachi’s Range Rover, it’s too much. Maybe if she tried again, this time—?

3:15, her lock screen reads, a little snowflake sitting beside the 33°F below. Haah, with a four o’clock check in, there’s no chance of her whittling her luggage past the basics. Not unless she want to be late, and if she’s late, then—

Then everyone will be waiting for her. All of them clustered at the bottom of the stairs, watching the time tick down as she tries to decide if she really needs an extra pair of underwear or another package of hair ties. Just the thought threatens to have her break out in a full-body rash.

With a steeling breath, she adjusts her travel pack and rolls out to the hallway. A proposition that would be easier if not for the wall-to-wall carpets in the hall, but Chizuru manages to steer her suitcase competently enough, drawing up to the stairs with enough confidence to survive the six sets of eyes sure to turn her way—

Only to find two instead. Not waiting on her either— no, Yamazaki’s got his head bent close to Hajime, hands shaking with emphasis as he hisses, “I don’t care if he’s done hours before anyone else, I’m not getting in a car with him.”

“I was not insinuating that I would make you,” Hajime intones with weary patience. “I merely wanted to mention the likelihood of Souji being the first of our companions to finish with his preparations.”

“And I’m telling you that I’m not—”

It’s not on purpose; between fight or flight, Chizuru’s legs have chosen freeze, and she’s perfectly resigned to stand statue-still up here, silent and just out of sight. But her suitcase chooses to make it known to everyone in the major metropolitan area that one of its wheels is not perfectly situated on the landing. It tilts, the aggrieved wheel letting out a plaintive squeak— and that’s all it takes for Hajime’s eyes to narrow, slanting up to the top step.

“Good afternoon, Yukimura,” he says, oddly pointed. “It seems you are ready to head to the hotel.”

“Ah…” Her suitcase clunks down the next step with her, wheels spinning. “Yes. I just, um…”

Have to survive these stairs, she swallows down, gritting out a smile instead. She tries to lift her case and garment bag all together, but—

“Yukimura.” Long, well-clipped fingers wrap around the side handle, quite literally taking the weight out her hands. “Would it be alright if I handled this for you?”

“Oh.” Yamazaki’s not a tall man, not by any measure, but in the dim light of the stairway, he looms, and it— it flusters her, free hand fluttering uselessly between them. “I-I can’t possibly ask you to—”

“You’re not.” Hajime hovers at the bottom of the banister, a strange sort of lightness in his voice. If Chizuru didn’t know better she might call it…bubbly. “He is.”

“O-oh.” She stares down at the hand still clenched around a handle, willing each finger to release knuckle by knuckle, so slow it feels like someone else’s hand entirely. “Then…thank you, I guess.”

Yamazaki spares her a nod and a terse, “No problem,” right before he lifts her suitcase and—

And rams it right into the floral wallpaper.

“Nice,” Hajime hums, appreciative.

Yamazaki’s still flushed when he glares down, snapping, “I don’t see you helping.”

“And get between you and serving hime-sama?” Hajime’s not one to smirk— honestly, he’s not much on smiling either, save by millimeters— but a corner of his mouth trembles as Yamazaki tromps down the last few stairs, stormy as one of their winter squalls. “I would never.”

His jaw doesn’t so much open as fall, working, as if he needed a good running start to get his next words out. Chizuru simply slips around his side, asking brightly, “Have you been waiting long?”

“We were just discussing who we thought would be next in finishing their preparations,” Hajime tells her, not really answering her question. Experience tells her that means ‘a long time.’ “Although Shinpachi could fit the seven of us in his vehicle, we would more comfortably divide into three and four amongst two cars, and since I have a perfectly serviceable sedan”— Chizuru’s confusion must show her face, since one look at her has him hauling to a stop, coughing to clear his throat— “I mean to say, we were waiting for our third.”

“Oh.” She blinks, glancing between the two of them. “I guess that’s me?”

“So it seems.” There it is, that tremble at the corner of Hajime’s mouth, threatening to curl. For a moment, she’s certain it will, but he turns his head away, casting a speculative look down the hall. “Should we wait to take on another passenger, or—?”

“Better not risk it.” Hajime half-turns toward Yamazaki, disappointment palpable, and he adds, “Oh come on, Nagakura has the bigger car.”

“That doesn’t mean we should—”

Whatever Hajime means to say is lost in the tangle of boy and bag clattering down the stairs, the struggle so loud Chizuru’s ears still ring even after it’s over.

“Oh hey,” Heisuke says, cheerfully emerging from the tumble. “You guys haven’t left?”

Yamazaki blinks. “Not…yet…”

“We were just discussing if we should wait,” Hajime says. “Since Shinpachi’s vehicle might be preferable to the remaining passengers.”

“Nah, those guys are gonna take forever to get ready. Sano has a whole bag just for his freaking hair! And not only that, but him and Shinpachi have been fighting for the last ten minutes over who owns this styling gel or whatever, which like, who cares? But still” — Heisuke stops to catch his breath— “You got room for one more?”

Yamazaki and Hajime exchange looks. Just what exactly they’re saying, Chizuru can’t even begin to guess.

“Well,” Hajime hums, bemused. “That does handle one problem.”

“Fine.” Yamazaki sighs, hefting a bag over his shoulder. “Let’s just go already.”

*

Despite all her fretting, her suitcase fits easily into the back of Hajime’s Elantra, slotting into the last spot in the trunk with little more than a twist and a lift. It helps that all Heisuke has is a duffel, crammed into the corner with all the care of a dirty sock being returned to the hamper.

“Don’t you have costume parts in there?” Yamazaki manages around a grimace; one that only deepens at Heisuke’s shrug.

“It’s fine.” He gives the bag one last good shove, wedging it firmly against the side. “I just threw it together. And Sano says he’s gonna bring all the sticks or whatever—”

“They’re boffers,” Hajime interjects, “technically.”

“Yeah, that.” Heisuke claps him on the back. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Hotels have those iron thingies, don’t they?”

Both eyebrows hitch up to Hajime’s hairline. “You know how to use an iron?”

Heisuke’s face crumples in confusion. “Well, no. But how hard can it be?”

Plenty is the answer, though Chizuru’s in no mind to give it, not when she’s preoccupied with trying to hang her garment bag on the hook over the window. Yamazaki and Hajime had made it look easy, but hers just keeps sitting wrong, taking up too much space and—

“You can take the front.”

She blinks up, half spilled out of the back seat, right up into Yamazaki’s concerned frown. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, if you wanted. It’s probably, er, nicer than having to share the back with—” his gazes darts over her head, to where Hajime patiently coaches Heisuke in the proper way to treat his personal items— “anyone.”

Her hands fly up, waving between them. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly! I can’t have you sit back here with my bag in your way.”

“We have bags back there too,” he reminds her, leaving the ‘and we’re definitely making Heisuke deal with it’ unspoken. “It’s only fair for me to make the offer.”

“Ah, I suppose…” She runs her fingers down the seam of her garment bag, considering. “But really, I’ll be fine. I’m sure Hajime would prefer to have you as his copilot!”

His mouth furrows, the perfect counterpoint to the storm brewing on his brow. “Yukimura—”

“All done!” Heisuke bursts onto the bench seat beside her, quivering with the same energy as a dog wagging his tail. “We gonna get this show on the road soon?”

Yamazaki’s mouth pulls too thin for a sigh to slip through; instead it all rushes out of his nose, coming to an abrupt halt when he glances down at her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to change seats?”

 “Hey! What’s up with this thing?” There’s not a lot of Heisuke, but what there is stretches across the seat, reaching out to give her garment bag one good tug. It’s like magic— one minute it’s shoving a shoulder across her seat, and the next it’s tucked into the handle, laying flat against where the door would be. “There, all set.”

He settles back, utterly nonchalant, as if he didn’t realize he’d done anything exceptional at all. Chizuru fails to stifle a laugh.

“Yes,” she says, giving Yamazaki one of her brightest smiles. “I think I'll get along just fine.”

*

“Woah? This is the place?” Heisuke jabs a finger toward the glass doors beneath the portico, duffel slung over his shoulder. “You sure?”

“Of course it is.” Yamazaki steps into the revolving door, suitcase clattering at his heels. “Haven’t you seen the campus hotel before?”

“Well, like, not up close,” he admits, following him through. “But this is nice. Like nice-nice. Are you sure they’re gonna give us discounts on a place this swanky?”

Chizuru has to admit, she’s thinking the same. From the outside, it didn’t seem like anything much— just another brutalist building squatting on campus, only with better parking access— but on the inside…

“Is this marble?” she murmurs faintly, nervously mincing across the floor. A hundred dollars for the weekend seemed like a steal when she’d thought it’d have the same level of amenities as a Holiday Inn Express. Now it’s practically highway robbery. “And the chandeliers…?”

“Satsuma Estates has been very kind to our organization since it started,” Saito informs them as he emerges from the door, his own suitcase coming to rest at his heels. “Most of their meeting spaces are influenced by traditional Japanese aesthetics, which meets our standards for a desirable location, and on their part, we are regular, respectful customers who—”

“We hold our biggest events during the part of the fiscal year where there isn’t much in the way of guests.” Yamazaki’s mouth slants, almost sly. “Spending New Year’s Eve on an empty campus in the middle of nowhere isn’t exactly on anyone’s bucket list.”

“So we get to have this place all to ourselves?” Heisuke eyes a vase that could have been just as at home in the Forbidden Palace as it was in a hotel lobby. “And they don’t have a problem with us running around in our costumes? I mean, with the swords and everything?”

“Boffers,” Hajime reminds him at the same time Yamazaki sighs, “They’re just foam.”

There’s a look that passes between them; a weary one, at least for Yamazaki’s part, though Hajime…well, Chizuru could hardly pretend to be an expert on the minute changes that marked a shift in his moods. But if she had to hazard a guess, she might say…amused.

“The more regular players typically bring foam or rubber replicas, with little intention to use them outside of aesthetic accuracy.” Hajime nods his chin toward a plastic pipe leaning against the front desk, both ends thickly padded and wrapped in what looked like duct tape. “New ones or the more…martially oriented roles usually elect to use boffers. Regardless, any weapon paraphernalia is inspected and registered at check-in.”

“They are also not allowed to be drawn outside the designated bounds of a scene,” Yamazaki adds, not a little stern as he surveys the crowd. “Personal combat sequences usually require advanced warning as well, since they have to prepare an area especially to accommodate—”

“Hold up. ‘Personal combat sequences?’”

“Duels,” Hajime clarifies.

Heisuke’s eyes pulse wide. “Duels? Really? We can have one of those?”

“As honor demands.”

“Woah.” There’s a new level of respect in Heisuke’s eyes as he scans the room. “And everyone follows the rules?”

“Yes,” Hajime says as Yamazaki grunts, “Mostly.”

Another look slings between them, though this time Chizuru doesn’t mistake the censure in Hajime’s stare.

“They say we’re better behaved than a regular convention,” Yamazaki allows, begrudgingly. “Or at least, we smell better.”

Heisuke blinks. “Smell better?”

He huffs out something in the neighborhood of a laugh. “You don’t want to know.”

“Should we get in line?” Chizuru eyes the crush creeping toward the front desk, barely contained by the black tape borders. “It seems like there’s already a bit of a wait to get through…”

“Jeez! That’s a lot of people!” Heisuke startles, like he’s only just noticed. “I thought this was supposed to be small?”

“Our usual group is around twenty to thirty members.” Hajime casts a speculative look over the lobby. “But for our weekend events, it can easily double.”

“Dude, this is definitely more than double—”

“Why don’t we check into the event first?” Yamazaki juts his chin toward the hall past the lobby, tightening his grip on his bags. “If everyone’s out here, then there can’t be much of a line there.”

Heisuke’s mouth clicks shut with a shrug. “Sounds like as good a plan as any.”

*

The event’s check-in is down the hall from the real one, just inside the first exhibit hall they come across— nearly empty, just like Yamazaki said, the number of people loitering around denser behind the tables than in front of them. For the two boys who are best known as the only ones in the roommate agreement who possess some sense of caution, there’s no hesitation, no moment for them to take in the currents of the room and pick the best course— both beeline straight for one of the tables, lining up with all the ease of habit. Chizuru follows after them, not on their heels, like Heisuke, but taking in the size of the room, in how there’s a few people clinging to the corners, their conversations hushed but curious as they pass.

There’s a mountain of a man in front of them, made larger for how the seams of his button down strain at the shoulders to contain his hunch, and she can’t shake the feeling that it’s familiar. Especially when he stands, unfurling head and shoulders taller than all of them and—

“Yamazaki.” The man doesn’t so much speak as rumble, like far away thunder, turning to them with a warm smile. “I see you did bring your friends after all.”

“M-Mr Shimada,” Chizuru gasps, heat flooding her cheeks. “I didn’t even—?”

Recognize you, she nearly says, but he’s wearing the same button down and slacks he does behind his desk, looking every inch like the professor he is. Or at least, will be, once he’s made the jump from adjunct.

Think you’d be here is more accurate, but the longer she considers the idea, the less improbable it seems. He’s a history professor after all— the kind that keeps replica swords mounted on his office wall, right above the pictures of his wife and kids. An active kendo instructor at the campus gym too, plus a dozen other martial arts she can only half remember the syllables of. She’d already seen him do demonstrations with live steel at the freshman orientation fair, dressed up in a kimono and hakama. And when she thinks about it like that, it’s honestly more surprising that he’s the only one from the department here.

A chill shivers up her spine. He’s the only member of the department she sees. That doesn’t mean he’s the only one in attendance. Her eyes skitter out over the hall, searching for stiff shoulders or the lingering scent of Marlboro—

“He’s brought quite a few friends this time.”

Chizuru startles, but it’s not an expletive that’s been dragged over gravel— no, it’s the reedy voice of the man behind the table, a wide smile pulled across a face as dainty and delicate as a doll’s. And yet when those large eyes fix on her— not the same shocking green of Souji’s, but something softer, mossier, more natural— there’s no innocence behind them, just the ceaseless churning of a great machine.

“Though I see not all of them have made it yet.” He rises, half out of his seat and hand outstretched. “I take it this is…?”

A narrow set of shoulders steps between them. “Heisuke!”

The man blinks, impossibly long eyelashes batting against porcelain pale cheeks, but his smile doesn’t lose any of its shine. “Ah, yes, of course, Heisuke. How nice that you’ve decided to join us. I’m Keisuke Ootori, one of the game masters.”

“Thanks for having me,” Heisuke says, so easy, and— and it would be nice to be like that, to be so confident of being welcome that pleasantries don’t turn oddly personal; that saying hello doesn’t come off as desperate. “It’s my first time doing this whole LARP thing!”

“You don’t say.” Keisuke’s mild gaze slants toward Yamazaki, mouth hitched at a corner. “Well, any friend of Hajime and Susumu’s is a friend of ours.”

“Su…Susu…?” Heisuke blinks, rolling his eyes to stare at Yamazaki. “…Mu..?”

“Don’t start.”

“Now, you were playing…?” A finger runs down the binder in front of him, stopping with a victorious tap. “Matsu Yoshitora, the beastmaster.”

“He’s lion clan!” Heisuke leans over the table, practically quivering without a tail to wag. “Because that’s my fursona.”

“Oh.” There it is again, that little wobble at the corner of his mouth, that dart of his eyes to where Yamazaki stands, hands clapped over his face. “Isn’t that nice.”

“I don’t know him,” Yamazaki says through his fingers, ears blazing bright red. “He just followed us in.”

“What Heisuke means,” Hajime interjects with beatific levels of patience, “it that the lion is his favorite animal. At least out of the options presented in the player’s guide.”

“Ah, I see.” Teeth peek through his smile when the game master turns back to Heisuke, fingers knitted over his binder. “You know, one of our other players has a whole functioning tengu suit. I think you might get along.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Yamazaki grumbles, but it’s too late, Heisuke’s already nodding his head, saying, “I have no idea what that is, but it sounds cool.”

“It sure is. Technically impressive too. Now, if you have weapons”—his hand sweeps out toward the table cozened up to his, and the girl behind it— “Marie can take care of their registration.”

“They’re not here yet,” Heisuke hurries to tell him— and as an afterthought, her. “They’re in the other car.”

“If you can describe it, we can get the process started.” The girl— Marie— smiles, but it doesn’t have the same warmth as Keisuke’s. It’s perfunctory, precise, and certainly satisfies Heisuke, since he slides right over and starts trying to gesture dimensions. But still, Chizuru can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s something cold beneath that polite smile, something pointed about the way her eyes avoid anything past the midline of the tables—

“Now, you”— Keisuke’s angles sharpen, teeth flashing behind his smile— “must be Hime-sama.”

Conversation careens to a halt, even the restless murmurs from the corners of the room pressed into silence.

“Ah…um…yes.” Chizuru shuffles a hesitant step closer. “Chizuru. I mean, I’m Chizuru”— he only smiles wider at her blush— “I’m playing Doji Kaoru.”

“Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Chizuru.” He presses a gallant hand to his chest, a sparkle lurking in the corners of his eyes. “And Kaoru. We’ve been waiting a long time to do something with Hime-sama…”

“O-oh! Really?” Her stomach knots itself before hurtling to her throat, bile sour on the back of her tongue. “I’m sorry— it must be so much trouble to— I can always play someone else if it’s going to ruin—”

“On the contrary, Chizuru! You saved us quite a bit of trouble. Especially poor Marie here.” He jerks a thumb toward where she sits, studiously ignoring their conversation. “But on that note— once we’ve wrapped up with check-in, I’d like to talk to the three of you.”

“U-us?” Every hair stands on end. “Are we in…in trouble?”

She could pass out just considering it. Her name’s barely gotten crossed off the list, and already she’s being called in to the principal’s office to explain herself. If only—

“No, no, not at all. In fact, the opposite”— he laughs as he leans in, lowering his voice to a stage whisper— “we’d like you to raise a little trouble.”

“O-oh.” She clasps her fingers to keep them from trembling. “Okay? I guess.”

“We’ll discuss it in a bit.” He settles back, tilting his chin toward the table next to him. “Now if you have any weapons to register, you can—”

“I don’t.”

His words grind to a halt. “You…don’t?”

“No.” She blinks, fingers clenching painfully tight. “Is that…bad?”

“No, no.” He shakes his head, the warmth still radiating from his smile— but there’s a sharpness to it too. An edge an unwary finger could cut itself on. “That’s perfect.”

*

“Hey, Shinpachi! Sano!” Heisuke bolts like a dog let off his leash as they round the corner to the lobby. There’s more than a few people that stand head-and-shoulders above this crowd, but no-one besides Harada shines bright apple red under the light, hair so glossy and soft Chizuru wonders just what he uses for conditioner. “Look! I got this cool bracelet.”

His wrist thrusts out right under their noses, fluorescent green so close their eyes nearly cross just trying to look, but Shinpachi just pushes it out to a visible distance and grins. “Sweet, bro! Where do I get myself one of these babies?”

“Around the corner.” Heisuke puffs out his chest, free hand hooking onto his hip. “There’s a girl handing them out. Look, Chizuru’s got one too, and—”

“Do they really think I’m going wear that?” Souji doesn’t so much arrive as appear, gone one moment and holding her wrist the next, like the neighborhood cat that only winds itself around her ankles when she’s throwing out old chicken bones. One finger slips beneath the pink band, tugging like he hopes it’ll give. “I’d rather cut my wrist off.”

“If you’re not having fun,” Yamazaki sniffs, “you can just go home.”

Souji’s sneer hones to a point. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, nerd.”

Yamazaki’s jaw works, breath so heavy Chizuru’s half worried it might steam, but before he can manage to marshal anything beyond ‘you—’ Hajime replied, “Yes, the bracelet is required. It marks us out as participants in the event, as well as informs security at a glance that any weapons on our person have been registered and approved by the game masters.”

“Wow, really?” Shinpachi blinks, prodding at Heisuke’s band. “Is there some sort of chip in there or something? RFID or whatever?”

“Er, no.” Yamazaki scratches at the back of his neck. “It’s just the color. Green means he’s only got one registered.”

“Blue is two,” Hajime offers, flashing his own wrist. “As I wear both tachi and tanto.”

“Oh!” Chizuru blinks down at her pink band. “What about mine?”

“You do not possess any weaponry,” he tells her, tone taking a surprised lilt. “Either visible or concealed.”

“What?” Yamazaki catches her wrist up in one hand, long fingers feather-light across her pulse, and he blinks at the band like he’s never seen a red paler than fire engine. “You didn’t bring anything?”

“I…” hadn’t known that would be an option. “Is that bad?”

“Ah, no.” His eyes meet hers, pulling wide before his fingers flinch, both hands and gaze skittering away from her. “Just…unorthodox, maybe.”

“I just thought…Kaoru is a courtier.” She shies beneath a shrug, cheeks flushed. “That means that she would put more weight on her words rather than, er…”

Hajime nods. “A good character choice, Yukimura. One that may also have complicated consequences, depending on the sort of story the game masters would like to tell.”

“Oh.” Her throat squeezes, the first prickle of tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” A hand falls gently onto her shoulder, fingers tightening in the barest squeeze when she dares to glance up. Yamazaki may not be one for smiles either, but there’s a faint one clinging to the corners of his mouth now, both amused and— and something else. Fond, maybe. “You’re with us, Yukimura. Experienced players live for complications.”

It’s warm where his hand presses to her, even through her coat, and her tongue tangles trying to find the right word, to find the compromise between thank you and I’m sorry, but—

But Souji saunters right up between them, flicking the band at Yamazaki’s wrist. “Hey, if all these colors are supposed to have some meaning or whatever, what’s with the lame ass purple?”

Yamazaki snatches his hand off her shoulder, cradling it against his chest. “What if you just—?”

“It means that he keeps up to the event maximum,” Hajime informs him mildly. “Concealed.”

Harada frowns, considering the band. “And just how many is that?”

“Five.”

“Woah!” Shinpachi takes a half step back, Heisuke quick to follow suit. “That, uh….that’s pretty impressive. Do a, uh…lot of people do that, or…?”

“No, it’s special dispensation,” Hajime clarifies casually. “Only a handful of players ever display the responsibility and mastery of play to earn the right.”

“No way!” Heisuke suddenly no longer shrinks from but stretches toward Yamazaki, an eager grin tugging at his lips. “Dude, are you like, really cool?”

Souji sniffs. “Only if hell has frozen over.”

For once, Yamazaki doesn’t rise to his bait, merely shaking his head. “No, no. It’s really not that big a deal—”

“Uh-huh.” Harada crosses his arms, one corner of his mouth curling toward a smirk. “And just how many people have a band like yours?”

He hesitates— too long, since Hajime is quick to offer, “Three.”

Yamazaki flushes under the sudden spurt of attention turned his way. “Saito would have one too, if he wanted it! It’s just— shinobi carry knives!”

“Lots of ‘em, apparently,” Shinpachi mutters, impressed.

"That's not--!"

“Ah, hey, Chizuru…” Harada turns to her with a sheepish look, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You know, the bunch of us already checked in here, so uh, why don’t you guys go on up?”

“M-me?” She blinks, on hand resting against her chest. “B-but…”

It’s habit to turn to Yamazaki, to leave space for him to air his own thoughts, his own opinions drawn from forethought and experience, but—

But he’s too busy stumbling under the hand Shinpachi claps to his back, looking like he’d like the carpet to swallow him whole.

“Ah!” Her fingers squeeze tight. “Um, yes. Sure. I’ll…get on that.”

*

The line’s smaller than it was when they first arrived; no longer a crush of people and garment bags and boffers, but a more subdued queue. It’s in no way quick— it moves along, but there’s time to idle between their forays forward, Heisuke pressing Hajime about clans and combat and conspiracies while Yamazaki surreptitiously checks his phone. Never for long, just a click on and off of the screen, like he’s waiting for something, and—

“Next, please.”

“Yukimura,” Hajime intones, utterly serious. “It is your turn.”

She jolts up from her suitcase, eyeing the open desk. “O-oh! Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you all from—?”

“Next customer, please!” another clerk calls from further down as the cluster of people in front of her walk away, polite smile already tacked in place. “Please approach the desk when you’re ready to check in!”

“That’s us,” Yamazaki says, skirting his suitcase wide as he steps around her. “We’ll wait for you when you’re done.”

“Don’t look at me,” Heisuke says, even as she does. “I’m just here for the company. Sano and Shinpachi already handled my room.”

“A-alright.” Hand wrapped tight around her suitcase handle, she rolls forward, knees barely trembling. “H-hello. I have a reservation?”

The receptionist smiles down at her. “Can I have your name?”

“Chizuru Yukimura?” She rises onto her toes, neck craned to watch the woman key her name into their computer, as if that might somehow help her find it. “I should have a single—?”

“Single…? Oh, hm.” The receptionist sits back in her hips, stymied. “I’m actually seeing one of our queen suites?”

A chill races down her spine. “Ah, no, but I— it definitely was supposed to be a single.”

At least it was when she booked it; it was the only thing she could afford, even with the discount. And even then—

“Oh! I see.” A couple clacks across the keyboard brightens the receptionist’s smile by a couple of watts. “It seems you’ve been given a free upgrade to one of our deluxe suites!”

Nothing good comes for free, Father’s voice blares in her ear, they only want to hide a cost you would hesitate pay. Her stomach twists, cold seeping up her throat. “F-free? I don’t have to, er, sign up for anything, or…?”

The receptionist relaxes with clear relief. Chizuru wishes she could do the same. “Yes, completely for free, at no extra charge!”

It’s impossible to swallow past the lump in her throat. “W-why? Did I do something…?”

“It doesn’t say on the reservation.” Her shoulders offer up a scant shrug under her blazer. “We must have run out of single rooms.”

“But…” It’s worse this way, she wants to say, the words clawing in her throat. Because I didn’t earn it. “I…”

“Yukimura.” Yamazaki steps up beside her, furrowed brows already aimed over the counter. “Is everything all right?”

“A-ah, yes!” Chizuru drops her heels, shuffling back from the counter. “It was just…something with the room…?”

“Ms Yukimura received a free upgrade to her reservation,” the receptionist replies cheerily. “Give me one moment, I’ll activate your key.”

“Free upgrade?” He blinks down at her. “Is there something wrong, or—?”

“No!” It’s ridiculous how much of a scene she’s making— anyone else would have just received it with a smile, happy to have gotten the extra mile out of their money, but here she is, half faint, making a mountain out of a molehill. “It’s fine, really.”

The corners of his mouth bite deeper into his cheeks, unconvinced. “Are you sure? One of us could always—?”

“Here you go, ma’am— 1204.” The receptionist hands over a small envelope, two keys nestled inside. With one glance at Yamazaki, her smile slants, angle all-too knowing. “Enjoy your stay. Next customer, please?”

He frowns, knuckles blanching where they grip his bag. “Yukimura—”

“It’s fine!” Her teeth grit down in a smile. “Really, it is. Let’s just get settled in.”

*

The elevator doors ding in distress as Harada wraps his whole hand around one side of them, refusing to let them slide shut. “Are you sure you don’t want one of us to come with you? It’s not that far out of the way.”

It’s four floors at least— her twelve to their eight— and with how the halls stretch across this landing, the lobby central to the rest of the rooms, it’s impossible to say how far of a hike. “No no, it’s fine. I can handle finding it myself.”

“We’re not worried about your sense of direction, Chizu.” Shinpachi crosses his arms over his chest, forbidding. “But what if someone gets weird with you while you’re wandering around up there?”

“Of course that’s your problem with all this,” Souji snorts, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Chizuru gets an upgrade and suddenly you’re all acting like there’s lions trying to split the lame gazelle from the herd. What’s the problem, think someone’s going to make eyes at her getting ice if she doesn’t have at least three of you to scare ‘em off?”

“This is serious,” Shinpachi spits. “There’s a lot of people in this place right now—”

“A serious waste of my time.” With a desultory wave of his fingers, Souji stalks off down the hall, calling over his shoulder, “Chizuru’s already said she’s fine. Call me when it’s time to eat.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Harada hums, his too-kind eyes looming over her. “If you don’t feel comfortable, it’s fine for one of us to—”

“No, I’m okay, really.” Chizuru lets her mouth pull wide, hoping her smile is more confident than she is. “You guys need to get your stuff settled. We can meet up later for dinner.”

Harada hesitates, struggling against another distressed ding. “I don’t know…”

“You have your phone, don’t you?” Yamazaki drags his glare from Souji’s back to where she stands, softening. “You’ll call if you need to?”

“Ah, yes!” It takes a moment to fish her phone from her bag, opening and closing zippers as Harada slowly, by inches, loses his struggle against the doors. “Right here!”

She waves it, lock screen bright in the car, and Harada loosens his grip. “As long as you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.” The words echo behind closed doors, her stomach rolling as the elevator lurches upward. She glances down at her screen, just in time to see it flash 20% at the corner before going black. “I think.”

*

It’s the toots that startle her as she creeps down the hall, suitcase wheels rattling across the close-textured carpet, the loudest noise she’s heard since the elevator doors closed behind her. Her grip tightens around her garment bag, weight shifting back on her heels, ready to turn tail and run, but—

But it’s her. The tooting, that is. Or rather, her phone. Embarrassing how long it takes her to think of it, really, but she does, slipping it right out of the pocket she’d tucked it into. 15% it reads now, but that’s not what draws her attention, not when there’s a notification with Sen’s smiling face beaming beside it. did you make it?

The breath rushes from her lungs, half-sigh, half-laugh. Two steps away. Thanks for asking.

It takes an improbable amount of minutes to manage those two-steps, however. Maybe Harada could have made it in one— or Shinpachi, even— baggage all happily come to heel, card in hand, but Chizuru has to trip over hers first, juggling garment bag and suitcase and half-unzipped travel pack until she realizes she can just put her phone away to free up that critical hand. Even still, there’s rustling and shuffling to trade one flat slip of plastic for another, the envelope half bobbling out of her hands before she manages to prise one of those little cards free.

And then, with a wave of her hand— well, a couple of waves, trying to figure out just how to place the card before she just presses it to the pad at the handle— she’s in. Except—

Except it’s not a bedroom. No, it’s a small living area, couch and TV and a half-wall of a kitchenette, a few chairs scattered around. Chizuru toes off her shoes, parking her suitcase neatly beside them, and peers into the next nearest door— bathroom, the glass enclosed shower tucked into one corner and a huge tub beside it, big enough to fit at least three of her inside without touching. She pads her way across, tiles cold even through her socks, and opens the other door, leading out into—

The bedroom, finally. The queen suite with what has to be the largest queen she’s ever seen.

Her fingers fumble her phone from its pocket, flicking past the lock screen straight to the camera—

Only for, anyone swallow their tongues yet?🤭 to flash right across the top of the screen.

There’s no costumes tonight, only a dinner! Tomorrow will be our first opportunity to be in character Though I don’t think anyone will be swallowing their tongues when I’m dressed as a boy 😅

Chizuru clicks back through to the camera, tapping the screen to focus, but—

“Are those leaves?” She blinks, first at the screen, and then, as she lowers it, the bed covers. Which, as she suspected, is littered with…some sort of nature. She steps close, pinching one velvety piece of detritus between her fingers and murmurs, “Petals?”

Well, she can’t have that.

boo have some confidence!!! you look super cute in that jinbei i bet *someone’s* heart will flutter at the very least

Her neck swivels, this way and that, trying to find someplace— anyplace— where it’s safe to put down her phone, hopefully close to hand, and— ah, there it is, the bedside table. She sets it down, turning back to the bed with a shake of her head. To think, in a hotel as nice as this one, they had just let someone track in half the outside with them.

It takes her a moment to find the trash can hidden beneath the table, but after that, it’s just a matter of goading all the plant stuff off the cover and into it. A bit more work than she thought she’d be putting into settling it, but it’s worth it to have a clean place to sit when Sen asks, is your room nice?

Very!!! I reserved a single, but it seems they had run out of them, so they gave me a free upgrade 😱 The room’s huge! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bed this big!

With a proud grin tugging at her lips, Chizuru takes a quick picture of her newly cleaned covers and sends it off.

omg LOOK at that 😱😱 a real princess bed for hime-sama

Ah, she hadn’t thought of that. Her heels hook around the bed frame, knees cradled up against her chest, and— and Yamazaki might find that funny too, wouldn’t he? Hime-sama having her own palatial accommodations. It’s nothing to flick open his thread and attach the picture, thumb hovering over send—

the only question is who is going to warm hime-sama’s bed 😏

Heat floods her cheeks. What do you mean?

i hear what happens in feudal japan stays in feudal japan you have any idea who you’d like to share with 😏😏😏

I thought princesses didn’t have to share beds

😩 you’re killing me

It’s not new, being teased like this— about this even, not when she lives in a house with six men and a solid half of them only begrudgingly allow themselves to be clothed. But Sen won’t be placated with a blush and stuttered denial— no, once she gets a whiff of romance, she doesn’t know how to give up until she’s got it clenched between her teeth. And unless she wants to pick out one of the guys as her, er, target, well…

It’s funny though! When I got here there was stuff all over the bed

Distraction is the only way out.

stuff?? like…fluids??? gross 🤮 pls tell me you called housekeeping

No, no fluids thankfully! Just some leaf stuff I handled it myself! It took me a while, but I finally got all those little petals off 💪

leaf stuff? petals??

A knock startles her, enough that she finally sees 8% hovering in the corner, her screen flicking over into power saver mode.

“One minute!” she calls out, rummaging through her bag until her fingers catch on the charger cord, tugging it out—

And half of her travel bag. The knock comes again, no more insistent, but Chizuru’s sure it sounds impatient.

“Ah, just another minute, I just have to”— miss the outlet at least twice before she gets it seated— “do this—”

Her screen lights up, the charging icon taking the place of the percentage, and it immediately toots with, where are you staying again?

She has just enough time to dash off, Satsuma Estates, before the knock comes again, and she yelps, “Coming!”

She hurries over, nearly tripping on the corner of her suitcase, but she gets the door open.

“Good evening, Chizuru,” Hajime says, once she does. “It’s time for dinner.”

[jasnstilnski]

@spiriitum / continued.

HE WOULD NEVER PUT THE WEIGHT OF THIS ON JONAS. getting their story out there was important, letting people know what horrible things had been done to them was instrumental in making sure it never happened to anyone else. jonas couldn’t control the reactions, and in truth jason’s far from surprised that people are scared of him. he isn’t like jonas, he doesn’t have beautiful wings, he can’t he portrayed as harmless. he has harsh burns, leathery skin, a demeanour that most people consider to just be WRONG. he doesn’t have the luxury of people seeing him as beautiful despite his pain, he only has people seeing the pain, seeing the danger. jason’s sure that no one thinks about jonas’s ability to be violent and dangerous, is certain that jonas is just seen as a poor, beautiful thing. he’s entirely certain that the world sees him in an opposite light.

head is shaking the moment jonas starts blaming himself, lifting himself off of the floor to sit on the bed facing jonas. hands slide on top of jonas’s, try to discourage him tugging at his hair, trying to calm him down. jason isn’t good at words, not like jonas is, but he knows that holding hands can be nice, that sometimes a hug is enough to make things better. hugs from jonas got him through a lot of things he once thought he’d never be able to survive.

“you’re good.” voice stern, as stern as he can make it. he doesn’t have poetic words, but he has emphasis. “PERFECT.” and jason truly does believe that. he doesn’t see the flaws that jonas overthinks about, doesn’t see any problem with the way they live. he loves jonas and jonas loves him, and in jason’s eyes that is more than enough. to not only know what it feels like to love someone, but to know that he is loved in return, that those feelings are strong and true and not going anywhere. it’s crucial to him, the only thing that has kept him alive this long.

“be DEAD without you.” and he doesn’t just mean the lab. jonas knows how much he’s saved jason, knows that the redhead has never been good at navigating the world around him. physically and mentally, he’d be entirely lost without jonas.

[idy-ll-ique]

Art.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, little bit of Angst

Warnings: jealousy and insecurity

Requested: nope

Summary: In which Steve is into art but Y/N is not.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Haven't got anything to say specifically so,,, enjoy the fic! Hope you like it!

[Y/H - Your Hobby]

---

"Oh my God, this is awesome!"

"It is, isn't it?" Y/N smiled softly, staring at the pure joy on Steve Rogers' face as he stared at the beautiful painting in front of him. "So much! Ah, realistic paintings, they're always so amazing. Do you like them?" he grinned, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Sure, they look cool," Y/N shrugged, not really understanding the painting. It was aesthetically pleasing, though.

Well, anything to make her boyfriend happy. They were at an art gallery in Brooklyn, which Steve loved to visit. Y/N, knowing how much Steve liked art, and her, always accompanied him. Steve and Y/N had been dating for nearly a year now. "Yeah! I know you aren't into art, but thanks for coming."

Y/N scoffed, burrowing closer to him. "You're my boyfriend, bro, anything for you." She giggled when he gave her a playful shove, immediately pulling her back to him. "Don't call me that, I'm your boyfriend," he chided jokingly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sure you are." Steve laughed, ruffling her hair.

"We've been together for a year." They stood in front of an abstract painting. Just as Y/N was about to retort, they heard someone clearing their throat. Turning around, they saw a woman standing there, smiling at them. "Hello, I'm Tiffany! You're Steve Rogers, if I'm correct?" she addressed the man.

"I am, and this is my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N," Steve answered with a polite smile, unconsciously pulling Y/N closer to him. He didn't like the way Tiffany was looking at him. "This is my painting, do you like it?" Tiffany asked. There was something off about her... "Ah, sure sure, it looks really good." Even though he didn't trust Tiffany, he couldn't lie about the art.

"Thank you! What do you think about it, Y/N?" Tiffany turned her smile unto Y/N. The woman blinked and glanced at the art. "It's nice," she shrugged truthfully. "Ooh, I'm so glad! The meaning is truly wonderful, I worked hard on it," Tiffany clapped her hands. "Yeah… the meaning…" Y/N cleared her throat, looking away from her.

"If you wanna see more of my art, you're very welcome to check it out! This one is on sale, actually, if you would consider," Tiffany offered, looking directly at Steve. "Oh no, not here to buy anything, just to admire," Steve chuckled, waving his arm in dismissal. "Okay, okay, but if you want to ever talk about art, you can give me a call. Toodles!"

With that, Tiffany handed Steve a business card, turned around and left. Steve stared at the card he involuntarily accepted, scrunching his nose. "Oh God, that—" He cursed, throwing the card into a nearby trash can. "What about her? I think she was lovely," Y/N lied, giving him a quick smile.

"She was clearly condescending! Ugh!" Steve rolled his eyes, "Anyway, we don't wanna ruin our day. Let's continue with the art!" Y/N's mind wandered as she casually latched on Steve's arm, ignoring the words he was saying to her. She couldn't help but think about Tiffany and how it was clear that she was hitting on her boyfriend.

To be honest, Tiffany was kind of better than her. Steve and Y/N had no common interests, why was he even interested in her? Why wasn't he into Tiffany? Steve's main attraction was art, he loved it more than anything else in the world and yet he continued to be with a woman who had absolutely no curiosity in said thing.

Why?!

Y/N softly groaned.

Oh no, this was gonna be a problem.

Which she was gonna fix.

---

Impressionism is a 19th-century art movement characterized by relatively small, thin, yet visible brush strokes, open composition, emphasis on accurate depiction of light in its changing qualities (often accentuating the effects of the passage of time), ordinary subject matter, inclusion of movement as a crucial...

Y/N blinked and yawned, throwing her phone on the bed. "Ugh! Why is art so fucking boring and frustrating?!" she moaned, rubbing a hand over her face. She sat up all of a sudden, squinting at the clock in the corner of the room. It was 4:56 am. "Or maybe I'm just tired…" She lay back down on the bed and kept her phone away.

The thing is, ever since that one visit to the art gallery, Y/N's little confusion about Tiffany and Steve had turned into the biggest insecurity of hers. Since that time, she had been limiting her meetings with Steve, as was she learning more about the thing that made Steve most happy: Art.

Steve hadn't questioned her as of yet, which was good. He didn't suspect a thing. She knew he didn't like Tiffany, given how he had called her unsavory things and also immediately threw her business card in the trash. Y/N just couldn't help feeling like she didn't belong with Captain America, Steve Rogers.

Steve, meanwhile, also awake, was sitting on the balcony in his room, thinking about his girlfriend. Why had she been acting so weird for the past one month? Absolutely refused to be around him for more than half-an-hour, sounded tired every time they talked and knew surprisingly a lot about paintings.

How? And why? He sighed and got up, stumbling into his bedroom. A little talk tomorrow won't hurt, right? Running a hand through his hair, he plopped down on the bed, lay down and finally decided to sleep.

---

"Y/N? Sweetie, can I talk to you?" Y/N glanced at Steve. "Yeah, what happened?" she smiled when he sat next to her, putting an arm around her. "Is everything okay with you? Lately you've been… kind of strange," he whispered. "I'm fine! Just having trouble sleeping, that's it," Y/N muttered, resting her head on his shoulder.

They were sitting in his room at the Stark Tower. "No, it's something else. I've known you for a year, my love, tell me. I'm here for you," he assured her, brushing her hair with his fingers. "Fine! It's Tiffany! She got into my head," Y/N groaned, burying her face in his neck. "Her?! That— sorry," Steve blushed when Y/N gave him a pointed look.

"Look, I get it, man. You're Captain America, you're America's hottest man or something and women literally flock to you all the time but she— she likes art. Just like you do. You both know so much about it, it's insane! I'm only thinking, why am I with you? I've never been interested in art, and Tiffany actually seems like a fun person to be around."

"So you got a little insecure?" Steve teased, pressing his lips to her temple. "I haven't slept in a month! Why do you think I know so much about art all of a sudden?" Y/N huffed, looking away from him. He froze. She gave up her sleep just to make sure she was… worthy of his affections?

"You're lying."

"I'm not lying. I slept at 6 am yesterday. Today, technically speaking. I had to be at my job at 8, and I got half an hour of sleep all because I was researching impressionist art— Why are you looking at me like that?" Y/N deadpanned. Steve continued to stare at her, a look of disbelief and incredulity on his face.

"I want to tell you something very important." He pulled away and turned to sit face-to-face with her. "What's that?" she mumbled. "I love you. I love you so much, Y/N, you're the most gorgeous woman I've seen, we are happy together and I like that. We have different interests, of course I know that, but it doesn't matter."

"Why doesn't it?"

"Because when we're together, next to each other, I have the best time of my life. Everything is blissful when you're with me and it's… it is euphoric. You don't need to learn about art just to hang out with me, I like rambling to you! Unlike artists, who would most definitely interrupt me at all times, you listen. And I like that. I also love listening to you talk about Y/H."

Y/N teared up at his words. "Thank you," she managed to blurt out, sniffling when Steve laughed and pulled her into his arms. "Off the bat, I knew what that bratty woman wanted. But I didn't want it because I already have it better," he chuckled, rubbing her back in soothing motions.

"I love you too," Y/N mumbled into his shoulder, smiling softly when she felt him pressing a kiss to the top of her head. All of a sudden, there were knocks on the door. "Come in," Steve called out and Sam poked his head into the room. "Steve, we have a meeting in 15 minutes, just a heads up. Hi Y/N!"

"Hi Sam!" Y/N greeted enthusiastically. "I see you're doing better now," Steve smiled, wiping her tears away when Sam left. "I needed to talk and we did, I'm… I'm not insecure anymore," Y/N admitted, playing with the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing. "I'm glad we could sort this out. I gotta go now, talk to you later?"

"I'm not going anywhere. Bye!"

She smiled when he leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss. "I love you!" he called out when he left the room. "I love you— close the door, you turd!" She laughed loudly when he turned around with a raised eyebrow. "I love you too, Steve," she grinned cheekily, bursting into boisterous laughter when he closed the door behind him.

Outside, Steve only smiled, happy that his girlfriend was doing much better.

See, a little conversation didn't hurt.

---

A/N: Hope you liked it! Leave a like if you did, thanks for reading!

[k-s-morgan]

What would you say would be the great but rarely used, mentioned (?) Will's quotes about Hannibal that show his depth of feeling for him and show that Will does love Hannibal. I know the most frequently used ones, but what do you think are the underappreciated moments?

What a great question! Here are the ones I recall and that I rarely see mentioned. If anyone who’s reading this can think of more, please share them too! 

You’re supposed to be my paddle. It’s said at the very start of S1, and it shows the trust Will already puts into Hannibal, which is amazing, considering how hostile he is to people in general and especially to psychiatrists.

I don't know what's worse. Believing I did it or believing you did it... and did this to me. I felt so betrayed by you … I trusted you. I needed to trust you. Will is playing on Hannibal’s emotions here, but I think what he says is absolute truth. He sounds so wistful and sad - he really feels all this. It’s not the idea of Hannibal being a murderer that hit him hard, it’s that Hannibal betrayed him.

You've never condemned me. Not even under oath. You've always been my friend. Same here: he’s playing Hannibal, but what he says rings true. There is once again wistfulness in Will’s voice - Hannibal was his friend and it meant the world to him, but now he doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t understand why Hannibal is trying to help him after putting him in prison.

I have to deal with you. And my feelings about you. Sounds so deeply personal and romantic, in my opinion.

I envy you your hate. Makes it much easier when you know how to feel. Will confessing to Peter that he can’t hate Hannibal no matter what he did, and hence he can’t bring himself to kill him even now.

Where else would I go? This is so striking - Will confessing that Hannibal is the only person he can confide to, his safety net and in a way,  his home.

Will: I tried to murder Dr. Lecter.

Margot: Did he have it coming?

Will: What do you think?

Margot: Can't say that I know.

Will: Neither can I. - This is a lot, coming from Will. Hannibal betrayed him, killed Abigail, murdered who knows how many innocent people, including Beverly, and yet Will isn’t sure Hannibal deserved having Matthew sent after him.

Hannibal is good enough for you. Considering the context and the emphasis he makes when he spits these words at Alana, he’s jealous, and this jealousy is about Hannibal and his affections. 

Could you be happy there? This is what Will asks when Hannibal tells him that if he’s ever arrested, he’ll be living in his Mind Palace. It’s such a simple but powerful question because Will knows Hannibal might end up arrested because of him, and he’s worried about his happiness. He needs to hear that Hannibal won’t be miserable. 

Hannibal: You would deny me my life.

Will: Not your life, no. - Will is no longer capable of killing Hannibal, and it’s important for him to make Hannibal understand this. 

We have a mutually unspoken pact to ignore the worst of one another in order to continue enjoying the best. - Almost a love confession, the same one as “Because he was my friend and because I wanted to run away with him.”

Now, the entire brilliant Primavera is a big and loud love letter from Will to Hannibal. Here are my favorite quotes (I’m changing pronouns in Will’s discussions with fake!Abigail because he’s talking to himself there).

He left me to die... But I didn't. He was supposed to take me with him. We were all supposed to leave together. He made a place for us. Why did I lie to him? The wrong thing being the right thing to do was too ugly a thought. He gave me a chance to take it all back, and I just kept lying. He wants me to find him. After everything he's done, I would still go to him? Yes. - You can see his mental struggle, him being torn between love, guilt, and resentment. 

Later:

This is what Hannibal sees when he steps inside the frescoed walls of his own mind ...But this isn't Hannibal, it's just where he begins. Beyond this, far and complex, light and dark, is the vast structure of his mind. A thousand rooms, miles of corridors. Everything he remembers, wonderfully and fearfully reconstructed. Hannibal is well armed against the physical world, but there are places within himself he can't safely go. But I can. If I find them. And that's how I'll find him. - Will is so incredibly reverent and admiring here, I love it.

I do feel closer to Hannibal here. God only knows where I would be without him ... I still want to go with him? Yes. - This says everything: Will acknowledges how crucial Hannibal is for him, how he can’t imagine himself without him now, and how much he craves his presence.

Will: You couldn't catch him when he was just a kid, what makes you think you're going to catch him now?

Pazzi: You.

A small, polite scoff from Will, unable to take his eyes off the small stairwell to the catacombs.

Will: What makes you think I want to catch him? ...  You don’t know whose side I’m on. - Will openly admitting to a police officer that he’s siding with Hannibal.

Hannibal... I forgive you. - One of the most heartfelt things Will has ever said to him.

Chiyoh: How do you know Hannibal?

Will: One could argue, intimately. - This come across as Will flaunting their relationship to Chiyoh, who he perceives as a possible threat.

A part of me will always want to [slip away with Hannibal]. - I’m forever amazed at the things Will keeps saying to Jack.

Please. You need to get over yourself, whatever self this is, Bedelia. You expect us to believe you somehow got lost in the hot darkness of Hannibal Lecter's mind? - I seriously can’t believe Will said this. Could he sound any more jealous?

You helped Mason Verger find us. - I love how he refers to them as a team in front of Alana, even though Hannibal literally tried to saw his head open when they were found. Sounds like Will is resentful of the fact that they were interrupted o_O 

I have to see Hannibal. Very simple words said to Jack in E8, but their meaning and the way Will phrased it... Will doesn’t need Hannibal’s help with the case, we know it because we saw him easily reconstruct the crime hours before that. But he’s not even really hiding it well! He doesn’t say, “I have to discuss this with Hannibal,” he says, “I have to see him.” There is a palpable difference between the two.

All conversations with Bedelia, but especially this jealous gem:

Poor Dr. Du Maurier, swallowed whole. Suffering inside Hannibal Lecter's bowels for what must have felt like an eternity. You didn't lose yourself, Bedelia, you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn't be bothered ... Have you been to see him? 

In the next conversation again:

Will: Have you had any contact with him? -  Jealous Will is the best.

I'm not fortune's fool. I'm yours. Will looks at Hannibal, clearly expecting him to react to his teasing, and then he’s so affronted when Hannibal ignores him.

The divine punishment of the sinner mirrors the sin being punished. Chilton languished unrecognized until Hannibal the Cannibal. He wanted the world to know his face. (And now he doesn’t have any). - This sounds like Chilton was Will’s courting gift to Hannibal. Instead of choosing more valid reasons for his actions, he focused on Chilton’s desire for popularity and him mocking Hannibal. 

Hannibal said those words. To me. - Will is so proud to be seen as worthy by Hannibal, and he can’t help but throw it into Francis’ face.

Hannibal: Save yourself, kill them all?

Will: I don't know if I can save myself. And maybe that’s just fine. - To me, this sounds like Will confesses he doesn’t know if he can “kill them all”, meaning Hannibal first and foremost, and that at this point, he doesn’t even mind. The long stare their exchange afterward speaks volumes about their feelings.

[tobebugjewce]

THE WALTEN FILES: my jumbled notes on my blind run-in with this web series

first off this is gonna be long and unorganized, also this is my second time writing this as i had lost literally half of my progress and im This (imagine two fingers almost touching with a 0.0000000001mm distance between them) close to ripping all of the fucking hair out of my goddamn head. but now this will be extra long and yes, i will lose some accuracy to my first writing but thats okay ill probably edit this a kajillion times over

which brings me to my next tangent; im literally braindumping here. so to have a smidge of organization all afterthoughts, edits and corrections will be boldened, i forgot what im gonna do with italicized text but ill probably bolden it here yeah im pretty sure its for side tangents, separate from Corrections, which are in bold. also theyre for emphasis too.

so in general, this post right here is all of my notes i wrote down on my grid-patterned sticky notes (which i used WAYYYY too much of) about the first 3 uploaded walten files youtube videos transferred onto my handy dandy digital notebook, this b(l)og. yeppers peppers. you know im serious about this shit when i typed probably over like a thousand fucking words including boldened shit, italicized shit and motherfucking links, lost it ALL, and im sitting here re-typing it again.

i feel bad about this but im not gonna trigger warn right here, but this is technically a warning. if you want a list of triggers as to what this post (and the walten files in general) i will link a little list to that here

without further a doo doo, (mama mia) here the fucking fuck we go again.

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #1

clarifying this now, im gonna put some useless shit which i thought was code onto this because even though it was useless it was part of my notes and im physically going to combust if i dont put down every single thing i wrote on my papers. so what i thought was code was in the closed captions, i started writing it down when i got to the second video but came back to my first videos notes to include them. i wrote down the first letter to every word that was capitalized in the closed captions, which i had on as a default because number one i knew going into this id need them because most web horror things like args and cryptic shit like that has some of the most crucial shits in the closed captions. number two i am autistic and have auditory processing issues and have most closed captioning on as a default if theyre available.

firstly jotted, i wrote down the closed captions “code” so im gonna put the rest here too: HYWITB(BSI)Y A(BSI)BJWFKWITW ILHHFSBBSBTLBWI USOISTBNBSFIRBCAWHSHCBWHTAIGRNB*C*BTWLTSFA(20)MCFP ILITIIACPH(1978, 1979)SA(4)YTSCH*C*OGSSU SFTGRPATDBBUTFBNLLCHMIHLBRALLCLAYTUKB*LC*WHATWASTHATTHING 

the numbers in parenthesis are there because i wasnt sure they should be included in the “code” or not. i also thought of this with the BSI - bunny smiles incorporated and also the years 1978 and 1979. the shits in asterisks are coughs and light coughs, which were capitalized in the closed captions so i included them too just in case

i then jotted, in parenthesis of course, the names of the animatronics when they were listed in the animation section of the video; bon aka the blue bunny, sha aka the sheep one, boozoo aka the clown<3 honk<33, and banny aka the purpled eyelashed up one who is also a bunny btw. also i got boozoo the clown and boozoo the mustache guy confused because apparently the clowns name is billy???? but they named “boozoo” in bons sleepover and showed the clown? idk maybe im an idiot and theyre the same or just an idiot and theyre different or a super mega (matt and ryan?!?!??) idiot in general which is probably the case

i started drawing little stars to write down things i thought would be super important or to 100% look at again. the first subject of this pointy torture was the part of the video where at 3:00, i marked it down to make sure to reverse the audio as it was most definitely a weird audio that has that signature warp-y effect that makes sure you KNOW its in reverse. i then listened back to it Very carefully (still got it wrong) and got this: “you finally start to remember. that old doll. they will look out for you soon” im also pretty sure i heard “sophie” at the end of that audio but im not entirely sure and dont remember and i dont wanna go back to check lmfao but anyways it didnt matter because i was wrong anyway. after i had finished all 3 walten files i watched the film theory video on the walten files (which didnt cover all 3 but was dece.) out of curiosity and to hear matpats signature silly little voice explain some stuff i already knew, and click some shit in my brain that i couldve thought up of if i was a bit more... i dont know honestly. anyways yeah so the actual audio is “you finally start to remember. that old day. they will look out for you soon.” so yeah. day, not doll.

i then wrote down “sarah evelyn”, the name on the bons sleepover animation (i dont remember if she created it or animated it or whatnot) and scribbled will she matter? under her name. turns out no, as i didnt see her name in the rest of the series, let alone the first video. this is also a great time to mention how matpat theory helped me realize that the walten files are collections of videos, uploaded onto youtube by anthony. (i already knew about anthony as he signed his name in the descriptions of the youtube videos, making me categorize this overall web series more into an arg type genre.) but yes, the tapes, recorded “irl” footage, animated clips, vhs tape recordings and other audio-visual content is all collected and labeled the walten files, as i had mistaken each video to be a tape. stupid me. alrighty, onward!

i starred this one, good for me; MISSING: Jack Walten LAST SEEN: 06/11/1974

i jotted down with an arrow that; sophie was a nightguard? she was wearing the uniform explained in tape 2 i dont know why but i went back into my video 1 notes after i had watched video 2. organization purposes. i guess.?? 

i then paused the video when the screen flickered a date, the beginning of video footage dated 10/10/1982 (Brian Stells?) god my little genius ass assuming the videographer was brian stells, based on the id card i saw earlier.

i then wrote down what text i saw on the dead, mangled, bloody body in the purple security suit; “i cant feel anything” “he thought i was her” then drew a little arrow pointing to; thought brian was sophie? or ashley? i also starred the name Brian Stells this is totally out of order LMFAOOOOOOOO also i wrote down ashley because, again, my little pea brain went back on my video 1 notes after watching video 2. but yep thats all i wrote for The Walten Files 1 - Company Introductory Tape

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #2 

Tape #1 - created 07/02/1978

awesome how thats first and foremost in the captions. god. so sexy of you martin walls. /j /nsx

this pack of notes is chunkier because again, like i have mentioned before i am an absolute goober and thought the capitalized letters of the words would actually mean something. I MEAN MAYBE THEY DO AND IM JUST DOING IT WRONG but i stopped doing it after this video because holy shit it was exhausting and my stupid little fingers couldnt take the writing anymore becasue i am WEAK. 

so write off the bat (squeak) i wrote down 197[] the blacked out rectangle over the last digit of that year and everything im also now assuming its probably 1978 or 1974 because lore reasons but whos to say but yeah i also wrote down this;

Tape #2 - created 08/13/1978

then, straight up in the beginning of the video i caught it, the flash of text, as i had by now realized i gotta be SUPER stupid focused on the screen in case i miss anything, i wanted to be crazy precise on my theorizing and mental notes, among other things. but yes i saw it, the first half of a youtube link;  “https://youtu” 

claps hands together and rubs them evilly. oh yeah baby. thats the hot lunch. this shit right here? the cats pajamas. lets fucking go.

i wrote down this goofy shit i pasued to inspect when i saw bon sorting through a file cabinet and naturally scribbled down the labels and other written things i could see on the files; 

relocate X/X/75 felix

storage K-9 07/23/1975 felix k(ranken)

Bons Burgers 06/28/1974 Jack Walten

Shipping Service 1975

New Location -> 1982

i also wrote down more goofy shit, like when banny was created for some reason; in 1974

starred, i noted to go back and reverse the audio at 5:09, when played back, i didnt write it down so i dont remember. lmao.

i also marked to screenshot and brighten the darkened image i saw at 5:20, i was going to do it on my phone then realized i can just do it on my computer so i quickly took a screenshot, brightened it and wrote down what i saw; a missing person poster that read MISSING: SUSAN WOODINGS(?) Last seen: 1974 i was very unsure of the spelling of her last name because the image was so goddamn low quality and grainy but its what i saw. this is where tape #3 gets thrown in, which im gonna type again because i like how the formatting looks;

Tape #3 - created 07/09/1978 (BEFORE tape 2?!//1/1??? its more likely than you think)

i wrote down more dates, any dates i saw, i jotted down. i wrote; 

Technical Support 1978 

then, 

Brian Stells (for some reason i dont remember right now)

alrighty this is where the stupid capitalized letters come in, but before it looks like i vomit a keysmash time infinity on this, ill put down the little inbetween things i wrote in the midst of the caps lockalypse like timestamps and stuff, so here you go;

- Reverse at 8:16 which i did but of course didnt write down what i heard. i think it was too warbled to hear anything clear out of it, or it was just the good ol auditory processing issues fucking me over yet again. WAIT yep yes i did here it is: “rosemary would go to the restaurant every night hoping that [her] beloved husband would reappear after being missing for weeks but no response until one day [s]he heard a voice [saying] ‘i know where he is rosie’ coming from the back stage” the bracketed stuff is the corrections, i misheard the audio and thought the audio said “his”, “he” and “singing” like a nimrod

- Brighten at 10:14 which was another missing person poster, but i dont think it had any information on it because i didnt write it down, just;

- Sophie again (pic at 9:08?) (dismemberd and put in Sha) i was stupid and wrong haha idiot it was rosemary who was put in sha but anywho

i starred and underlined a huge thing i discovered which was;

- Walten had 3 kids which i dont remember how i found out but it doesnt matter, its good important info i uncovered.

- Tape #4 - Unkown Date

- recorded 07/12-07/14 1978 

- Hilary B, Ashley P & Kevin W i made sure to get these names down as soon as i saw them on screen but then realized shortly after i wouldnt really need to have it as the closed captions made sure i knew which person was talking by using their first initial (capitalized of course) before each line of text. this is the perfect time to announce the arrival of the clusterfuck of capital letters, which is going to include colons which will indicate that the letter before it is the initial of the person talking. without further aedue, here comes another chinese earthquake;

TCWTSTATO(K-9)TBSSFWFCNEHAWBSUBIUC(BSIIDC)OWHISF INBIJTILNSPL(K-9)LCSCKCCCWTTLTLITTTYROTFAJAMHPYYSTCSPMBBWSBIB H:NTPPCCK:DA:HH:YCPRPMWTCBCRAWK:JH:SYYTCPBACPSTBAWCA:TK(?):FMTTCMK:TCPNOA:DTOFK:ITNPPRA:YBUTIRRFH:HKIBESRAIA:TCK:WA:WPCCFTRRIDPEH:GGK:GPA:LKK:WA:HNCGTKMK:YH:IGKA:ESK:MFH:RK:HILRLBNTRPPUWHITRRTPEIFEPH:YWBEBPK:MAHPBTRPTRPEL(LN)HTACPKLIKHPFITSKLTKLB(LB?)ISIBSUBIPRW AEBATHSPUAICTPURTWBBRPHTRTIIIILTCITCUCCP S(bpe, be)WA”IDCPBPSIB

holy shit its finally over okay now onto some MORE of what i wrote down in between and also after that keysmash attack;

12 doors? (backrooms) 27? 26? i was unsure because ashley was unsure too lmfao

found cassette (6/11/78) <- says “discard”? yeah it did

Tape in clown audio, speaking voice; jack, susan, charles(?), rosemary, sophie, last word sounds like “walrus” it was walten lmfao

Ashley died? yeah she did lmfao OR AT LEAST I THINK SO??

starred this one, Reverse @ 17:06, then got this;

“they left the next day, they thought ashley left early, but she was in the backdoors, screaming as much as she could, but no one heard the screams, the following days the caretakers would complain about an awful smell coming from the backdoors, company decided to shut down facility until new advice, the relocate project was unsuccessful. ashley is still there, but she is not screaming anymore, she saw something she wasnt supposed to see and now shes beautiful” the phrase “shes beautiful” was repeating like a bajillion times in that wall of text. then, god motherfuckng bless: 

at 17:23 i found the other half of the youtube link, “.be/k07QqEDOfQ” i pieced that bad boy together as instant as i think any form of ramen could never be, but remained ever patient. because i made sure to jot down this before moving onto my next segment;

@ end of vid 2, “shadow man sees* me when lights go off” im an idiot *it was actually “feeds” not “sees”, which AGAIN, i only found out after watching the stupid little film theory video *begins snarling and foaming at the mouth*

okay im not proud to admit im editing this to post it and realized ive lost my notes. well. 

might as well post what ive got! if i find my shit ill add onto this, i suppose.

[nah-she-didnt]

Hi! "49. "And before you say anything, a ‘no’ would be a very poor answer.” for Jily maybe? :)

Hello! I’m very sorry this isn’t Jily, but this turned into my very first Tedromeda one shot! This scene is the type of thing I plan on including in my Tedromeda multi-chapter. Hope you enjoy!! 

Conspicuous 

There are three main ingredients to a Draught of Living Death. First, the Valerian Sprigs, which slows the drinker’s breathing. Next, the Wormwood, which allows the drinker’s mind to remain calm and empt-

“Damn,” Andromeda muttered as she rubbed her napkin at the open textbook’s page. She’d managed to cover the second half of the paragraph in a large chunk of chicken from the pie she’d been picking at for the last 30 minutes. 

There was no way she’d be ready for this potions exam. It was crucial that she do well, that she earn top marks ahead of her NEWTs. If she could get a high enough score, perhaps her parents would look the other way when it came time to sign up for the Healer training program. And now, thanks to her absentminded fork, she’d never be able to remember all the ingredients to a Draught of Living Death.

“Oi, Andy.” 

Andromeda stiffened. Surely he wouldn’t come and talk to her here, now.

Edward Tonks slid into the empty seat across from her at the Slytherin table. He’d changed out of his school robes for the day and instead sported a flashy collared shirt tucked into tight muggle blue jeans. Andromeda tried not to notice her classmates glaring at him and his attire from down the long table. 

“I need a favor.” He seemed completely unaware that his appearance had caused any stir. “I need Tuesday night off, and I can’t change the schedule myself because I need second Head’s approval.”

Andromeda frowned. “First, I don’t know who ‘Andy’ is, but my name’s Andromeda. Black, to you.” 

Edward grinned. “Yeah, alright, Andromeda,” he put a heavy emphasis on the last word, savoring every syllable of her name in his mouth for a second longer than was necessary.

“Second,” she pressed on, trying not to think about his mouth, “I thought you just begged for Monday off. You’re running out of days of the week.” 

“I know,” he pleaded, trying his best to catch her eye. She ignored these efforts. “It’s just I’ve got my Transfiguration exam on Tuesday, so that’s why I needed Monday off, but now Tuesday I’ve got to tudor a Fifth year in Astronomy. A worthy cause, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Hmm,” Andromeda hummed as she stabbed at her pie once more, “I dunno, Tonks. What exactly is it you’re asking me to do for you?”

“I’m asking,” Tonks said, his hands clasped in mock prayer, “for you to look the other way, just this once. And before you say anything, a ‘no’ would be a very poor answer.”

Andromeda sighed. “Fine. What day do you want instead?” 

“God bless you, Andy. Andromeda!” He corrected himself hurriedly at the look of warning she shot him. “Wednesday is fine.” 

Andromeda, hand already reaching toward her bag for the prefect schedule, swore internally. Of course he would say Wednesday. She shoved away the thought and pulled the schedule out of her bag.

“There,” she offered the schedule to Edward for approval, “you’re all set.” 

“Thanks, I owe you one,” Edward winked at her, “I guess McGonagall will have to find another reason to hate me, because there’s no way I’ll fail her exam now.” 

“Don’t take it personally,” Andromeda said as she slid the schedule back into her bag, “she hates everyone who’s not a Gryffindor, even those who spend every waking moment with them.” She glanced now towards the Gryffindor table. Edward’s friends Frank Longbottom and Alice Fawcett sat side by side, laughing hysterically at some unheard joke.  

Edward laughed. No matter how many times she goaded him like this, he always laughed. “Too true. I don’t think she thinks I’m worthy. But that’s alright, I’m happy in Hufflepuff.” 

“Speaking of Hufflepuff,” Andromeda threw another glance down the table. Lucius was staring at Edward, his knuckles white as he clutched his fork aggressively, “shouldn’t you be getting back to your table?” 

Edward followed her gaze to Lucius. “Embarrassed of me, Black?” 

“Not at all,” Andromeda tried not to flush at his use of her last name, “Just...well, you don’t make it easy, do you?” 

Edward frowned. “What d’you mean? 

“Well,” Andromeda gestured up and down Edward’s chest. His wide collar fanned out from the unbuttoned front of his shirt. “You’re not exactly hiding, are you? Bit of a flashy outfit for a magical school.” 

Edward, to her horror, turned stony. “Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t look sorry at all, “I didn’t realize you had a problem with muggle clothes.” “I don’t,” she said hurriedly, still glancing back at Lucius every few minutes. She could see the blonde boy conversing menacingly with his friends. “I don’t have a problem, Edward. I’m just saying, it’s a bit...conspicuous.” 

“I’m not trying to be inconspicuous,” Edward snapped as he gathered up his bag again, “just trying to live my life. Well, see you on Wednesday, then.” 

Andromeda blinked, still trying to work out where she’d gone so wrong. “Pardon?” 

“Wednesday, for rounds,” He said dully as he stood up, “I saw it on the schedule. Good luck with Potions.” And with that, he turned on the spot and headed over to Frank and Alice at the Gryffindor table.

[noodlewright]

Characters: Clockwork, Danny Fenton, Maddie Pairings: None Rating: G

-

“So will it be between seventy and a hundred, or lower?”

“No. Keep working.”

At the heart of Clockwork's lair, Danny stared unseeingly at the math worksheet in front of him. The numbers were starting to blur together. 

Today, Danny was visiting Clockwork after having a fit of homework frustration that was quickly becoming routine. He was lucky to have found a mentor in Clockwork and studied with him as frequently as he could. Danny had quickly found that the ghost was, apparently, scary good with numbers, but there was nothing to be done to make math less mind numbing.

“No, as in it'll be higher?”

“You know perfectly well Danny.”

Danny wanted to know if all his extra study sessions would pay off when it came to Friday's big test, but he knew what Clockwork was getting at. The spirit was concerned that knowing his future test score would make him slack off, either because of an expectation that he would do well regardless, or that he would see no point in studying with failure to come anyway.

He needed to study for now and later exams, Clockwork insisted.

Danny huffed in annoyance and stared harder at the problem that gave him such grief.

It didn't yield.

“Do you want to go over it again?”

Danny hung his head in defeat. “Yeah.”

Clockwork left his terminal and made his way to Danny's side with a spare sheet of paper, half of it covered in a scrawl from earlier.

Halfway there, the spirit paused. Clockwork stared just over Danny's shoulder, as though a thought had just occurred to him.

It wasn't the first time this had happened. Just the other day, while Danny visited, Clockwork had done a similar action. He hadn't given it much thought then, or the ones before. Everyone did it on occasion. In Danny’s case, it usually happened when he walked through a doorway. Most people though, Danny considered, didn't do it this much.

Maybe Clockwork was a little scatterbrained?

-

It was, by now, what Danny recognized and referred to as one of Clockwork's “Moments”.

Danny had come to learn that Clockwork had these frequently.  Clockwork didn't have all knowledge of all things, the spirit had once explained. Clockwork knew of the past, if he cared enough to know it, and knew of the present, but not all of the present. If he wanted, he could learn it all but there were, he said, very many things that were dull and unimportant, and taking the time to see every bit would be a torture unimaginable.

The future was similar to him, in that he didn't endeavor to see every scrap of it, but even if he tried, it wouldn't have the same easy clarity.

The real take-away was that, when it came to the future, all things weren't set in stone, and as Clockwork explained, the ghost often felt that some events got lobbed at his head and he needed a moment to sort out the new information. Danny could understand that. He had trouble grasping the rest of the hour-long, complicated discussion that included half a dozen different metaphors and some math chalked onto the wall, but he could get that at least, and was glad to gain a little more insight on how Clockwork's abilities functioned.

-

“Are you okay?”

Clockwork’s attention snapped to Danny. The intense gaze made him uneasy. Was Clockwork mad? He got the feeling like he might have interrupted something.

“Uh, sorry.”

Immediately Clockwork's eyes widened, “No no, I’m sorry. I just realized something. I need to go-”

“What?” They had barely started!

A wink was sent his way. “It won't even be a moment.”

Oh right. Well, it wasn't like Danny could just forget the last fifteen years of rigid physical laws that applied to his and everyone else's lives. Clockwork would probably only disappear and reappear between blinks.

A thought occurred to him.

“Wait, have you been disappearing on me this whole time?” he asked. He shouldn’t be surprised, it would be so easy to ditch and return without anyone being the wiser. 

“No, just when you’re already engaged in something.” Clockwork admitted.  

So basically, any time Danny wasn’t actually talking to Clockwork.  Which was a lot.

He shouldn’t be bothered by it.  He hadn’t even caught onto it until just now, but still, it sat unwell with him that Danny was someone who was to be put aside for a later date.  Couldn’t it wait until after Danny had left?  It wasn’t like Clockwork couldn’t just go back to whatever time period he pleased.

It would be polite at the very least.

But what was Danny going to do about it? Clockwork was nice enough, and Danny wasn't about to voice his disappointment when it wasn't actually that big of a deal to begin with. It would just have to be another mannerism to add to Clockwork's growing list.

“Uh, okay. So what's got you in such a rush to go?”

Clockwork opened his mouth to answer, but paused for another faraway look to overtake his face. “. . . Well, how do you feel about coming with me to find out?” he finally said.

There was hardly a thought before Danny agreed. “Sure!”

They set off.

-

Clockwork's portal led them to a large, immaculate kitchen.

“Very nice.” Danny said as he stepped out and oggled at the sheer size of the room. The number of cooking ranges and pots suggested that he was at a restaurant. “Do you come here a lot?”

Clockwork gave a distracted noise of affirmation as he walked over to a glowing red stove top and fiddled with the knobs until it was completely turned off. 

Had he just stopped what could have been a fire?

The ghost then grabbed at unsightly cords that littered the countertops and tucked them into less noticeable places.

“Danny, there is a set of knives to your left. Would you please place them in the cupboard?”

The cutlery in question had been loosely kept in a stainless steel container, not very dangerous in his opinion, but he obligingly shut it away.

From Clockwork's direction, Danny could vaguely make out senseless muttering, “-idiot thinks he's a chef . . . ”

Yeah, no kidding. Idiot was an understatement. Who left a stove on?

Danny startled at a sensation that brushed across his ankles.

He looked down to see a purring cat. “Um. Hi.”

It was long haired, and an obviously very well-kept animal. It was incredibly out-of-place for the current location. The cat gave him a lazy, silent meow. 

“I didn't think cats were allowed in restaurants.”

“It isn't a restaurant,” Clockwork clarified. “This is the home of Vlad Masters.”

Danny suddenly snapped alert and floated off the ground in a battle ready stance. His eyes darted around in search of an unwelcome presence. 

“He isn't here right now.” 

Danny immediately relaxed and found his footing again. He regarded the cat and kitchen before him once more. Now it was looking familiar. This wasn't his first jaunt uninvited to Vlad's house, but he had never paused to really look at the rooms he was darting through.

“Okay, so what are we doing here? I mean, I know fire-safety is important and all, but a blazing house and that guy isn't the saddest combination that I can imagine.”

“I understand,” Clockwork said as he made his way to a nearby window and began working its unyielding frame closed. “Masters has done you a great deal many wrongs. He is, what most would determine, unsalvageable. Unforgivable. Unethical and unrepentant.”

“Yeah. All that times a thousand.”

“He is also incredibly unstable.”

“I could have told you that.” Danny wondered where this was heading.

Clockwork ceased his fiddling and picked up the cat that had only been too content to loll on the ground. It wiggled, displeased at the graceless hold. 

“Before you is the crux of all of Masters’ affections.” He lifted the cat further with emphasis, and spoke with sincere solemnity. “The warmth held for you and your family is but a shrinking mote compared to what he has fostered with this animal.”

Shrinking? Anything that lessened Vlad's attention could only be a good thing. “Really? Does that mean he'll leave us alone now?”

Clockwork didn't entirely look him in the eyes when he said, “Not exactly. Masters is the very definition of passion and he can never entirely drop something once he's set upon it.”

“Not in all the timelines?”

“Most of those are currently closed and the few available are too . . .” Danny thought that Clockwork was about to have another Moment, but the spirit soon found his words, “-dreadful. Which is why it is very important that we curtail his fixations, in what ways we can, and direct him to better . . . things. This cat is crucial to that. He's poured all his love into it and should anything happen to it, Amityville will be a flaming crater, and its residents, crumbling charcoal.”

“He'd kill people for a cat?!”

“He'd kill someone for kicking it.”

“Oh my God. I mean, that's a really mean thing to do to a cat, and they deserve something, but the town is innocent. Why would he hurt them?”

“He’s an idiot when he's angry. And a part of him has always wanted to watch the world burn.”

Danny pulled the, now fed-up, cat out of Clockwork's arms and held it with complete reverence. “We have to protect this cat,” he whispered.

“I know.”

“We need to keep it inside and never let it out.”

“I know.”

“Sam can watch it when I can't-”

“Masters will be consumed with rage should it go missing.”

“Right. Okay. Well, it's- it's a cat, and it's been alright so far, right? It should be okay here. It's happy here and Vlad's happy.”

“But there's a problem. It's why I have to come here almost every blasted day. The cat is suicidal.”

“ . . . Is there a therapy for that?”

Clockwork gestured to the room, heedless of Danny, “She keeps trying to kill herself. Last week she was roadkill and the week before, mauled by a pack of dogs. I stop her from eating poisonous plants and she goes right back to them the next second. I keep her from chewing power cords and she tries and tries again- last time she did it while soaking wet from nearly drowning in the toilet. In fact, had we not been here, at this very moment, she would have deep fried herself! I am confident that I have now seen every possible misfortune that can befall an animal and I grow tired of it.”

Danny scrambled to absorb the dire information. “But . . . the deep fryer isn't even on.”

Clockwork glared at the animal pointedly. “And yet.”

Danny looked at the yowling cat in horror. “What can we do?”

“I'm doing all that I can.”

“But isn't there something we can do that is less hands-on? More permanent?”

“I've been scouring the timelines for that very answer and have come up short. Other possible solutions will show themselves eventually, but we're not at the right stage to begin exploring those.”

“Okay, well if we can't do anything with the cat, what about Vlad? Can't we just stop him?”

Clockwork rubbed his face tiredly. “Danny, a future where Masters has that sort of melt-down, and the city regardless saved, is not a future either of us want.”

Danny wished he could fact-check that, but he wasn't the one with foresight. “Are you suuure?” he needled.

“Yes.”

Well, Danny supposed that was that. He didn't entirely believe Clockwork. It was hard to judge when he knew so little of the information as a whole, it could just be that there was something that had been missed. However, he did trust that it was what Clockwork believed.

“Clockwork?”

“Hm?”

“This future you have in mind, is it a really good one?”

“. . . It's not all good, but it has a great deal many good things, yes.”

Something niggled at Danny. It was a thing that had long been bothering him, and it reared its ugly head whenever altering timelines came up, but he had never earnestly voiced it. Mostly because he had yet to see any bad come of it. “Clockwork, I know you can do all these cool things, but do you ever think that maybe you shouldn't be doing all this? Changing the timelines, I mean. I get wanting to have a better future for people, but what if you don't make the right choice? Why not just let it go?”

“Instead, how about you let it go?”

Danny's mouth dropped open in shock at the sheer rudeness, until he realized that Clockwork was pointing at the cat. She writhed in his arms and gave him warning bites to his gloves. 

He guessed Clockwork's answer wasn’t as much a brush-off as it was a diversion then. Fine.

He, gently, released the cat and planned to get right back to the questions at hand, but Clockwork addressed him before he could open his mouth.

“I've let things go a time or two before, Danny.” Clockwork had taken an interest in one of his many watches, his head tucked down so that shadow eclipsed most of his face. “And contrary to what some would have you believe, I have learned that it is better to do something, even if it's not the very best, than nothing at all. Inaction and apathy are things that I have fought hard to stay buried, and to embrace them again would be inexcusable.”

What could have possibly have happened? How bad did it get? Did he really want to know? 

“What-”

“So, will you help me keep this cat alive?”

And Danny did drop it, just like that. Clockwork clearly didn’t want to talk about it. That didn't mean he wasn't still curious. He was. But for today, and probably for a while, he would leave it be.

-

Vlad returned to the center of his current frustrations. He had been trying to recreate an old family recipe, when suddenly, he had been called away on business. It wasn't a long meeting, but he had felt the need to rush. A thought had dogged at him since he left.

Had he left the stove on?

He swung the kitchen door open and immediately calmed at the lack of raging flames and burning stove-tops. 

It seemed he did remember.

There was also a lack of general mess that often accompanied his random acts of cookery. His ingredients were laid out still, as well as a number of random bowls, but the utensils were nowhere to be seen and the deep fryer had been dumped. Curious. He didn't keep his cleaning staff this late, and even if he had, they wouldn't have been so lazy as to not properly clean up a clear mess.

“Who the shit has been in my kitchen?”

-

More

[windmaedchen-fairytail]

Do you think it's possible that another reason Ivan hates his father is because Makarov used to unintentionally neglect Ivan in his childhood due to his master duties and helping people like Gildarts control their magic (Ivan probably used to see them as nothing but strangers hogging his father all to themselves)?

Maaaaaybe? In a way yes and no. xD Lemme explain:

Firsty,

we see clearly how Makarov values the members of his guild as family members whom he protects and is loyal to. And that is not surprising, as Makarov, without mother and father from an early age, was probably raised in a shared effort by the other guild members. He himself likely never had JUST one or two parental figures to focus on and to love, but many, and I have the feeling the older he got, the more he consciously embraced this guild as his family and his world, his reason for existence.

Secondly,

Ivan on the other hand puts more emphasis on blood relation and the expected bond and loyalty of that. This suggests to me that in a way he felt as you said, neglected by his father, or at least, not treated the way he would have liked/expected. However, I don't think Makarov 'neglected' Ivan in a way that other people could decidedly point fingers and say "Makarov's hardly there for his son". I am sure he took Ivan everywhere with him and especially into the guild. I am certain, Ivan was very special to Makarov and as his father he would never miss out on anything his son went through as he grew up. I think Makarov did try to include the guild in his son's upbringing and "handed him around", in a way, for baby-sitting purposes when he couldn't bring him along to jobs or when just hanging out at the guild and being hogged by other members, as you said. But even though other people would need Makarov's attention I don't think that this alone had impact (if much at all) on Ivan's negative development.

I even think all that made Ivan a better person than what he otherwise could have been, if he really had lacked a good up-bringing. I mean, he's not an Ultear-like mass murderer or a Brain-like corpse-walking scientist.

See, I think Ivan was special, in a way. Intelligent, highly perceptive, creative, socially adept, persuasive, smooth-talking... but also with a rather narcissistic outlook and a lack of interest in the well-being of others. That COULD have made him worse person. But I think Makarov and the guild allowed him to grow up into an actually well-functioning man, struggling only with the dissonance between his perception and reality and his inability to let go of grudges.

(Man, how greatly he misjudged his son, Laxus, during the Grand Magic Games. Sad, Ivan, just sad.)

Now Ivan is hardly innocent, of course, because he DID mess up. I think it was stuff like

leaving comrades behind,

failing to appear in battles when counted upon,

orchestrating plans that disregards safety for those enacting it,

providing incomplete or false information to team-members,

using comrades unknowingly as guinea-pigs for his inventions/magical items,

failing to "see" and prevent accidents-waiting-to-happen

and so on...

Just being unreliable in a team, not assisting his comrades, unable to prioritise the well-being of others over his own. He can claim (and maybe even believe!!) that his actions are meant to support his comrades but fell short or where misunderstood by others... but in reality, he truly is what he is accused of.

These incidents didn't happen ALL the time, and if left alone Ivan performs admirably, but it was always a bit of a thing WHEN it happened and as previously said, Makarov just failed to truly punish Ivan when it was needed (loving his son more than the guild) and instead hit his hammer of justice in moments that were unjustified (loving the guild more than his son).

For example:

How about Makarov having promised (or making his son believe) that Ivan was going to join in the guild administration and eventually take over the guild as master (this might explain why Ivan knew OF Lumen Histoire at the time he left). Naturally, as he grew and Makarov realised their values are not aligned, he needed to retract that promise for the sake of the guild, sidelining his true son.

What if Ivan was unfairly stripped of his S-Class title? You know how that is, you do something stupid once and for the rest of your life people will suspect you messed up like that again. Maybe all the other times Ivan was scolded it was for real, but maybe not THIS one time, and yet, despite his best explanations, Makarov believed the words of the guild members and took the title and right to work higher-paid jobs away from him.

It was the quantity of incidents, not the severity, that got Ivan eventually expelled (maybe also the reason Makarov just couldn't bring himself to do it). But he had established his own business and from age 30 up to his excommunication (around early 40's) he didn't much rely on the guild as his main form of income, hence his hesitation to leave himself and being still part of the guild at that time!

Ugh, so TLDR

Ivan felt his blood relation was neglected (when it wasn't) and thought he was (in adolescence but mostly adulthood) being treated unfair in favour of the guild (when he wasn't except for a few crucial times).

Kinda like you suggested, right? Just not quite so literal.

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

Regarding Gildarts and Ivan, I guess I have a question back.

When/where does Gildarts make a statement to such effect or display his hatred for Ivan?

Based on appearance, I placed Ivan into his 50s when we first see him in Battle Of Fairy Tail, which makes him being born to a Makarov in his early 30s, becoming father himself in his early 30's and thus being born around 10 years prior to Gildarts...

[teawithkpop]

[M] - Criminal - Oneshot

Pairing: BTS - Criminal!Namjoon x Reader (x  Cop!Jungkook and Cop!Yoongi)

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 5.8k words

Genre: Mafia / Gangster / Criminal / Police AU ? very much smut lots of smut

Warnings: swearing, mentions of criminal activity, lots of dirty talk, mutual masturbation, phone sex (?), voyeurism, mentions of throat fucking, choking/gagging, cum play, cuckolding??, daddy kink, slight degradation - usage of slut/whore, oral - female receiving, unprotected sex, mentions of breeding kink (if you squint?), voice kink? … I don’t even know how to tag this properly it’s kinda all over the place lmao

Namjoon is the only man I would ever call Daddy… 😔 dedicated to my wife Spex @bang-to-the-tan planted the idea of Criminal!Namjoon in the horny part of my brain and provided some amazing bits of dialogue for him… go show her some love 🤧💖

Your hands are shaking as you enter the precinct. So much has happened in the past few hours, you aren’t even sure where to begin processing it all.

Your boyfriend of three years, Kim Namjoon, is a criminal. Not just any criminal, but one of the biggest crime bosses in the country.

You only found out from a phone call, far too early this morning, from the police station…

“Baby doll?” His voice over the call is raspy, and a little tinny, as if he’s speaking to you from within a tunnel. “Are you there?”

“Namjoon… what’s wrong?” You sit up in bed and press your phone to your ear, suddenly wide awake. He sounds strange, with a note of something coloring his voice - is it worry? Namjoon never worries. He’s the most carefree man you’ve ever met. Something is wrong.

“Listen, baby… everything’s alright,” he says, and you can hear some murmuring in the background, some clanging noises. “Just come down to the police station, okay? I, uh… I’ve been arrested.”

Your blood goes cold. Arrested?

“N-Namjoon, what are you talking about?” Your voice shakes as you clamour out of bed, slipping on your shoes and grabbing a jacket, already halfway out the door by the time he replies. “What do you mean arrested? What for?!”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Stay calm for me, okay baby?” You can hear a soothing patience in his voice, like he’s trying to comfort you. As if you’re the person he should be concerned about right now.

“I am calm!” You huff, frazzled as you fish your car keys out of your purse. “Why did you…? W-what happened, Joon?”

He sighs. “I guess I should tell you.”

Your eyes widen as you put him on speaker, climbing into your car and fumbling with your seatbelt. “Tell me what, Namjoon?” Your voice is icy, fear clawing at your heart.

“… I’m not who you think I am.”

Now, you stand in the cold waiting area, your heart thumping in your chest as the conversation replays in your head. Namjoon told you all about his work, that he had several illegal businesses, extortions, and black market branches under his name. He wasn’t a CEO, at least not of the Bulletproof LLP - Business, Tax, and Sales accounting firm like he’d told you he was.

According to the police, last night he’d been arrested for organizing three simultaneous armed robberies in some of the largest banks around the city. The authorities had been trying to pin Namjoon down for ages, but he’d always evaded them, successfully erasing any trace of himself from his illegal operations. Only with this most recent case were the police able to tie his name to the crime. An accomplice - one of Namjoon’s underlings - had been captured, and had let the name of his boss slip during an interrogation. With this crucial evidence, the police had stormed Namjoon’s residence and taken him into custody at approximately 2:38am, while you were still asleep.

It's… a lot to take in. Too much to digest. The betrayal, knowing he lied to you for so long, and would have continued to do so… it twists your heart painfully.

Things had been going really well over the course of your relationship up until now. You’d been planning to propose to Namjoon some time in the next few weeks. He’s made you happier than you’ve been in a long time. He makes you feel important and special, and after your series of heartbreaks, his love for you had felt like a balm, soothing your past pains.

But now it looks like you’re facing another heartbreak yet again. The engagement ring in your purse will go to waste. Of course this love was too good to be true.

“You can go in now.”

The policeman puts a hand on your back and gestures for you to head into the visitation room. You swallow nervously and clutch your purse, taking careful steps to face your lying lover.

Namjoon is already seated behind the other side of the glass partition as you enter. For some reason, he’s the only one there, besides the guards. You expected there to be a row of criminals, talking to their loved ones like in the movies, but there’s just the one window. Just the one seat for you to take.

The guard on your side of the glass nods to you. He gestures for you to sit, and you can’t help noticing the contrast between the young man’s muscles, prominent even through his uniform, and his innocent-looking face. “You have ten minutes.” He says kindly to you. He shoots a look of contempt in Namjoon’s direction, then takes a stance nearby, behind you and a little off to the side.

“Thank you…” You squint to catch a glimpse of his name badge. “Officer Jeon.”

He gives a nod, his chest puffing out importantly as he locks his hands behind his back, his legs shoulder-width apart, and he settles his gaze on the opposite wall.

You slowly sit down, taking a moment to look Namjoon over. He looks terrible. There’s a cut under his lip, and you see a bruise forming around his eye. His hair is nearly as rumpled as his clothes, a once-pressed suit, now with buttons popped off and stains of what you hope is just dirt on the front.

And yet, he’s smiling as he looks at you. That same charming smile he always wore whenever he greeted you. As if this meeting was no different than waking up beside you in a hazy morning after a long night together. It unnerves you how at ease he appears to be with cuffs around his wrists.

You break your little staring contest and slowly pick up the tethered phone beside you, the only way to communicate through the soundproof window.

His smile doesn’t waver as he picks up the phone on his end, holding it to his ear.

You take a deep breath to steady your nerves. “You lied to me, Namjoon.”

His face gradually falls and he nods somberly, just once. “I did.”

You’re at a loss. This is the man you’d been planning to be with for the rest of your life.

“Why?” You can’t keep the tremor out of your voice. Seeing him like this, it stirs a myriad of feelings inside of you, none of them good. You feel angry. How could he do this to you?

His gaze doesn’t move from your face. He leans forward on the desk and you find yourself leaning back reflexively. “I have many enemies, baby doll.”

“Oh, of course.” You snort and look away as indignation flares up within you. He sounds like a bad movie villain.

He continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “If any of them were to find out I gave my heart to such a pretty little thing like you…” His  face softens and his eyes darken momentarily, showing a flash of his insatiable lust, and your heart gives a flutter in spite of itself. “Then your life would be in danger. Don’t you see? I kept the truth from you for your protection.”

You stay silent. This all feels too… fake. Too cheesy and deluded to be reality. You briefly wonder if this could be part of some hidden camera show.

You catch a glimpse of the guard on the other side rolling his eyes and you nearly laugh. The man is shorter than your guard, and looks generally disinterested in his surroundings.

Namjoon’s eyes reach for you through the glass, pulling your focus back to him, and he seems desperate to touch you. “But I’m going to make it up to you. Okay, baby?” He smiles again. “I’ll be out of here in no time, and then I’m going to take you on a little getaway trip, just you and me, where I can spoil you rotten. How does that sound?”

You finally meet his gaze with a look of astonishment. He can’t be serious.

“Namjoon… I don’t know if there can even be a ‘you and me’ anymore,” you say quietly but firmly, with a slight shake of your head. “I don’t think I can be with a criminal.”

He smirks. His eyes glimmer with a familiar look of dominance, but he usually reserves it for when you undress for him.

“You’ve already been with one, kitten.” He gives you a small chuckle, more of a hum, as he leans closer to the glass, his breath steaming against the surface. “… and I know you loved it from how your little cunt gets soaking wet when you’re around me.”

You blush scarlet, your eyes darting around nervously as you clutch the phone harder. “N-Namjoon, we’re in public!”

The guard on his side raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Your guard thankfully can’t hear Namjoon’s half of the conversation, but your outburst seems to have caught his attention, his eyes widened in mute curiosity.

Namjoon chuckles at seeing you so flustered. “Don’t worry, doll. No one’s listening. I gave the guards a little tip so they leave us alone.”

Your eyes widen. Bribery…

He winks, smug and unperturbed by his own lascivious behavior. “Does that excite you? That I can say whatever I want to you through this god damned phone?”

You try your best to hide the unwanted arousal stirring inside you, but your expression must be betraying you.

“That’s my girl… I bet you’re wet from just the sound of my voice, aren’t you? It’s the only weapon I’ve got on me right now, sweetheart.” He tugs on his handcuffs for emphasis, his eyes glittering. His officer - Min Yoongi according to the print on his badge - shifts his weight in response to Namjoon’s movement. You can tell from his posture that despite his laid back appearance, the man is ready to pounce on Namjoon at the first sign of misconduct, and you feel a shiver in your spine as you notice the taser hooked to officer’s belt.

Namjoon pays no mind to his guard, and a smile tugs at his lips as he stares dead into your eyes. His gaze is dripping with promiscuity as his voice drops deliciously lower. “Are you wet, kitten?”

You feel ashamed at yourself that your panties have indeed grown damp from merely a few words, but his sudden boldness is throwing you for a loop. You had walked into this room prepared to break up with Namjoon, and although you didn’t know how he would react, this is… unexpected.

“Answer me.” Namjoon’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Is your little cunt missing me already? Don’t deny it, baby. I know you have a taste for danger… seeing me behind bars like this probably turns you on, doesn’t it?”

In spite of your best efforts to avoid reacting, your core starts to ache from his words, and you subtly rub your thighs together. You hate that he’s right. “Namjoon…” you whisper his name, your cheeks still on fire. “We can’t do this here. There are people around.” Your eyes flick over to Officer Jeon, who looks like he’s pretending not to listen, but you can tell otherwise by the set of his jaw and his stiffened posture, almost rigid.

“Don’t look at the guards, baby. Just look at me.” Namjoon’s voice cuts through your embarrassment, and he smirks as you hesitantly meet his gaze. “You know what I’m going to do the minute I get out of here, don’t you…?”

“Namjoon, please… you can’t!” You whisper harshly, desperate to save a shred of your dignity.

He gives no regard to your worry, much too focused on making you blush. “I’m going to take you in my car to a luxury hotel, and then I’m going to grope your sweet little ass while I rent the penthouse for us. I’m going to rip off your clothes in the elevator, and I’m going to feel you up against the door, and make you suck on my fingers as I unlock it.”

His words go straight to your core, and a whimper leaves your throat, much to your horror. You clap a hand to your mouth, your face on fire.

Namjoon chuckles, and you know he heard it. “You’ve always loved dirty talk. Hm… such a good little slut for me.” 

You look away, ashamed at yourself for being so easily affected. But damn if this man doesn’t know how to turn you on. It’s what drew you to him in the first place, that fateful night at the club when the two of you met.

“Namjoon, this isn’t appropriate,” you say quietly, trying to keep your voice even. He’s a criminal. He’s embezzled, extorted… maybe even murdered. Logically, that is not sexy.

But fuck, Namjoon can make anything look sexy.

“You know what isn’t appropriate? The way you beg for my cock when I get you on all fours.” He looks like a man who’s three steps ahead in a game of chess. “It’s not appropriate that you would gladly choke on my dick in the restroom at a corporate party, when you know damn good and well that there are people just on the other side of the wall who can hear you moaning while I fuck your pretty little throat.”

Okay, now that one just isn’t fair. A memory from that specific night he’s talking about flashes through your mind, and you squirm in your seat, a gush of arousal flowing out of you. “Namjoon!” You hiss, your fingers trembling as you grip the phone even tighter.

Officer Min looks like he wants to say something, but merely coughs and looks away.

“What’s the matter, doll face?” Namjoon teases, tucking the phone into the crook of his shoulder, his cuffed hands disappearing beneath the desk. You hear the faint sound of a zipper. “Did I strike a chord in you?” He huffs out a breath, his tongue poking out and licking the corner of his lips as his gaze turns lazy and half-lidded.

Your eyes go even wider and you nearly drop the phone in shock. “Are you… touching yourself?”

At this, Officer Jeon’s gaze flickers to the window, but if he can see more than you, he doesn’t comment, and he quickly retrains his eyes on the opposite wall.

“What do you think, kitten?” Namjoon chuckles, and lets out a sigh as he no doubt starts stroking his cock. “Why don’t you join me?”

You’re flabbergasted. “Join you?” You echo faintly, and your core clenches again at the idea.

“Yes… consider it my last meal before incarceration.” He seems pleased at the joke, and lets out a soft moan, his eyes imploring. “Touch yourself for me, baby. Let me see you cum one last time.”

“Namjoon… I-I can’t just-”

“Kitten.” His voice turns dominant, using a tone he only reserves for the bedroom. “What did I just say?”

He waits expectantly, the intensity of his gaze making your heart flutter. You swallow. “Namjoon-”

He clicks his tongue. “No. Bad girl. Try again. What did I just say?”

Your gaze falls to the floor. Your voice turns into a whisper as you stammer out a reply, blushing to the tips of your ears. “Y-you said for me to touch myself…”

He raises an eyebrow, still waiting.

“Daddy,” you tack on, your voice even more faint.

He’s satisfied by your answer. “That’s right, kitten. Daddy wants you to touch yourself. Come on. Don’t you want to make yourself feel good for Daddy?”

You bite your lip, at war with yourself. Sure, he may have a hold on your pussy and he may be the best sex you’ve ever had, but he’s still a fucking criminal! On the other hand… after this, he’ll be in prison. This meeting might be the last time you see him.

So… who’s to say you can’t enjoy it?

‘One last time’, says your little shoulder devil, and just like that, your willpower slips away.

You reach your free hand down, sliding it into the waistband of your pajama pants before you can think. You didn’t have time to change before coming here, but you don’t think Namjoon particularly cares.

“Yes, Daddy…” you breathe out your reply into the phone, starting to rub yourself through your panties. “I’m touching myself for you.”

You hear a small noise from Officer Jeon, something between a yelp and a cough.

“Good girl.” Namjoon smirks, and lets out another moan. “Slip a finger inside that little cunt for me. I bet it’ll slide right in. You’re so fucking wet already, aren’t you?”

You do as he says, closing your eyes, as if that will keep it a secret from the other people present. You nod in confirmation as your finger slips inside you easily. “It went right in. I’m soaking wet for you…”

He growls. “Good, very good. Slip in another one, and start pumping them for me. I want you to stretch yourself out slowly… pretend they’re my fingers, baby.”

Well, that makes things a lot easier. You imagine Namjoon’s longer, leaner fingers curling inside of you instead of your own, and soon you’re sighing in pleasure, leaning back in your chair as you finger yourself.

You hear him growl over the phone, and the faint but unmistakable sound of skin on skin can be heard in the background. You picture himself pumping his shaft beneath the desk, and you moan out loud. “Fuck, Namjoon…”

“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, biting his lower lip. “Now I want you to take off those pants. Lay back in the chair and spread your legs so I can see that pretty pussy.”

You hesitate. You look at Officer Min on the other side, and he’s staring right at you. He looks fascinated, almost… hungry.

You slowly do as Namjoon says, pushing down the pair of pants - one of his, actually, that you had borrowed - and look to him with a question in your eyes. He nods, and you gently peel off your panties, too.

Now fully naked down below, you shyly climb back into the chair, shimmying your butt forward and laying back. When you spread your legs, draping them over each arm of the chair, your dripping center is put on full display for the window, and you hear Namjoon swear below his breath.

Or, wait. Was that Namjoon?

Officer Min’s jaw is slack, his eyebrows raised in shock. You look away, blushing at his obvious staring. And that’s when you catch Officer Jeon’s gaze. He has a mirror expression of Officer Min, but he’s standing with his arms at his sides, and he looks like he’s been enlightened to the solutions of the great mysteries of life. You suppress a giggle. He looks so cute and innocent. You wonder if this is the first time he’s seen a girl naked.

“Fuck, baby doll…” Namjoon draws your attention back to him, and he looks amazed and a little proud. “Such a dirty girl for me. I’d give you such a nice reward if I could touch you, baby…”

You feel a little proud too, in spite of yourself. You and Namjoon had toyed with voyeurism before, but nothing to this extreme. You feel empowered and thrilled that all eyes are on you and your aching core.

Namjoon pulls the phone away from him, and says something to Officer Min that you can’t make out. Min nods and takes the phone, holding it up to Namjoon’s ear for him. Then the officer presses a button of the walkie talkie at his shoulder.

“Hold the phone for her, Jungkook.”

His words come over Officer Jeon’s walkie, and you blush at just how turned on Min sounds. You look at him through the window and he meets your gaze, his eyes like dark pools of glittering onyx.

Jungkook seems to take a moment to process the words. “Copy,” he replies eventually, and hastens over to your side. You hand him to phone, and he holds it up beside your ear so you can still communicate with Namjoon, who’s now standing up with his cock in his hand.

“Now why don’t you stick those pretty fingers back in that pretty cunt for me…? Fuck, that’s it, baby girl.” He moans as you follow his orders to the letter, and he spits into his hand, pumping himself a little faster.

You spread your lower lips before slowly inserting your fingers. You even put in a third digit, but it still feels woefully inadequate compared to what you know his fingers feel like.

“Daddy…” you whimper, rocking your hips up as you fuck yourself. “I’m still so empty.” You feel a little shy at being so lewd with someone hovering by your shoulder, but at this point, you’re too turned on to let it stop you.

“Aw, does my pretty kitten need filling? Is her greedy pussy just begging to be stuffed with some cock?” Namjoon squeezes the head of his shaft, hissing through his teeth as a bead of precum leaks from the tip. “I’m going to bend you over and fuck you senseless, sweetheart. The minute I get out of here, I’ll stuff you so full of cock that you won’t be able to see straight.”

“Yes! Please, I need to be filled and stretched and bred like a good kitten…” You moan at his promise, throwing your head back as you try to make due with your fingers. But the emptiness is almost painful.

That’s when you feel another set of fingers at your core.

You flinch and whip your head around to see Officer Jeon, his gaze fixed on your pussy, a blush coloring his cheeks. He’s just barely touching you, his shoulders tense, surely expecting to be scolded or slapped.

You merely look to Namjoon, who has that calculating expression on his face. He smiles. Now he’s five steps ahead. He says something to Officer Min.

Min listens and eventually nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “Jungkook… go ahead and finger her.”

Your heart flutters. You take the phone back and hold it to your ear to leave Jungkook’s hands free.

“Do you want his fingers stuffed inside you, baby?” Namjoon’s voice is low and dangerous.

“Yes, fuck yes…” you murmur, gasping as Jungkook’s soft fingers rub between your folds.

“Try again.” Namjoon replies. “You only want Daddy’s fingers. Look at me while he fucks you and moan for me and my fingers. Not him. Understand?”

You rip your gaze away from Jungkook and focus it on Namjoon, already feeling hot from all this. “Yes, Daddy. I only want your fingers inside me.”

“Good girl.” Namjoon strokes himself faster as Jungkook starts to finger you, the slapping sound over the phone growing more frequent.

“Ah! Namjoon…” You moan for him, even though it’s Jungkook’s fingers curling into you and stretching you open. You can tell he’s inexperienced based on his technique, but somehow he’s still hitting all the right places inside of you, and his pace is perfect.

You find yourself rocking your hips into his fingers, grinding down on his hand as he experimentally adds a third finger, and you moan loudly.

“How does that feel, kitten?” The voice is Officer Min’s, coming crackly over Jungkook’s walkie. “I know you like his voice, don’t you? But it’s still me behind this. I’m still your Daddy…” You don’t dare break your gaze away from Namjoon, but you can see that only the listening end of the phone is at his ear. The talking end is twisted away, and he’s feeding words to Min Yoongi to say to you.

All the pleasure you’re feeling from two strangers, it’s all an extension of him. Of Namjoon. He’s moving them around like pawns on a chess board, like perverted puppets on a string.

Fuck, you feel like you’re in a pornographic episode of the Twilight Zone.

“Now lick her pussy. Eat her out right for me.”

Jungkook takes no time at all to fall to his knees in front of your chair, and he’s soon nosing your clit and giving a few experimental licks up along your swollen folds. You grip the arms of your chair, electricity buzzing up your spine at the contact. “Namjoon!” you cry out, your breath coming up short as Jungkook licks into you and laps at your entrance like a man starved.

“Yes, baby… fuck, you look so dirty like this. Such a good little whore, so good for me.” Min Yoongi’s voice is downright sinful. You suspect he’s touching himself too from the weight of his breath into the walkie talkie. But some part of you realizes he doesn’t have enough hands to hold the phone, operate the walkie, and jerk himself off.

You look over in curiosity and see him grinding up against the desk, desperate for some friction. His head hangs low, his hair falling into his eyes, and the image is so hot, another gush of arousal seeps out of you, at which Jungkook moans and he slurps it up greedily.

“Bad girl. Only look at me, remember?” Ah… fuck.”

You suspect that last part was just Yoongi, but you obediently turn your gaze back to Namjoon, lazily jerking himself off only a foot away from where another man is eating you out.

“Better. Such a good kitten. Go ahead and fuck her, Jungkook.” There’s a gasp and another groan. “Fuck, turn the goddamn chair so we can see.”

You nearly chuckle at Yoongi’s adlib, so eager to see you fucked by his fellow officer. You wonder briefly if the two of them are friends, or merely colleagues. You can’t decide which situation would be hotter.

You can hear Jungkook fumbling with undoing his belt and shoving down his pants. Thankfully he doesn’t take long to fish out his dick, and you can soon feel the tip of his head brushing along your wet folds.

“Fuck her. Don’t - ah… - don’t hold back.”

Jungkook doesn’t hold back. He pushes into you with no warning, and you close your eyes and bite back a cry of pain as he stretches you to your limit, sheathing his thick cock inside of you. He’s at least as big as Namjoon, and that’s saying something. You feel like he might split you apart as he starts fucking you roughly, gripping your waist and snapping his hips into you at a rapid pace.

“Good job. Keep going.”

Once you adapt to his size and speed, you open your eyes and return your gaze to your lover.

Namjoon’s face is downright diabolical as he leads this little circus of sexual activity, and you can suddenly see him as the crime boss he is. The slightly crazed look in his eye as Jungkook fucks you sheds a new light on your image of him.

He’s a mastermind. A diabolical genius.

You moan rhythmically as Jungkook grunts and slams you into the chair with every thrust of his cock, and you can see Namjoon and Yoongi getting off to the sight of it.

“Fuck… I… yes, good… good kitten.” Yoongi sounds desperate, and you hear a loud thunk as he finally drops the phone, his own pleasure overpowering anything else. Your eyes flicker to him as he unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, hastily pumping his length.

Namjoon says something to him and Yoongi huffs a laugh, still focused on bringing some relief to his aching member.

“Can you hear me, baby?”

You nod, looking between him and Yoongi. You didn’t catch whether Namjoon had told him to say that.

“Good. Jungkook, I want you to shove three fingers into her mouth.”

Namjoon hadn’t said that. But he doesn’t look mad?

Fuck… is he letting Yoongi call some shots?

Jungkook doesn’t care who gave the order, he just complies, bringing his fingers up to your mouth. You suck them in greedily, moaning around them as he picks up the pace at your hips.

“Good… now push them deeper. Make her gag on them.”

You feel him do as they say, and soon his smooth fingers brush your gag reflex. You choke, your throat contracting around his digits, and he groans loudly.

“Yes, just like that…”

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Jungkook mutters, pouding into you even harder. “Do it again.”

You gag obediently around his fingers, choking and gurgling as drool starts to drip down your chin.

“Shit…”

You moan and bask in their lustful gazes, feeling confident and sexy from all the attention. Namjoon is squeezing the base of his shaft, stalling his orgasm, and you wish he could unload it inside you.

“Cum inside her, Jungkook.”

Oh, it’s as if he read your mind. “Yes, Daddy! Fuck, please dump all your cum inside my greedy cunt…” you whine desperately, and although the words are for Namjoon, Jungkook’s jaw clenches and he fucks you so hard the chair starts wobbling.

“Ah! Oh, fuck, Namjoon!” You scream in pleasure, and you can see Namjoon starting to pump himself again.

“Say their names.”

You blink and look to Namjoon. He gives you a nod of confirmation.

“Jungkook!” You gasp, clinging onto him as he fucks you into the chair. “Ah! Yoongi!”

“Yes… fuck! Ah…” 

You hear Yoongi’s voice and look over to see his release splattered all over the glass. The sight stirs some dark pleasure within you and you hastily reach down to rub your clit, feeling your own climax is near.

“Say my name again…” Jungkook huffs, and he leans down to lick and suck at your neck.

You moan. “Jungkook! Ah! Yes… cum for me, Jungkook…”

His breathing gets a little faster and with a few final thrusts, he moans loudly and spills his load inside of you, filling you to the brim with his cum. “Fuck… fuck…” He pants, catching his breath as he leaves his cock sheathed within you.

Feeling him coat your walls tips you over the edge, and your climax hits you in a giant wave. “Oh, fuck! I’m cumming!” You scream in pleasure, your core spasming around Jungkook’s cock. Your entire body feels lighter as the spasms slow and you ride out your high, stars dancing behind your vision.

“Get ready.”

You look to Namjoon and don’t tear your gaze away from him, not about to miss it this time. Yoongi holds down the walkie button so you can hear Namjoon’s climax. You watch raptly as he pumps his shaft, faster and faster, and after a few moments, he too cums all over the partition window, his semen shooting onto the glass in thick bursts.

“Fuck, baby!” He groans loudly, squeezing his cock to milk the last drops out of it. “Yes… yes… you’re such a good slut, taking Daddy’s cock so well…”

You feel a shiver of pleasure as he praises you for being fucked by a stranger in lieu of himself. It feels so wrong, but damn it felt so good…

Jungkook finally pulls out of you, and he looks almost shy. “Uh… thanks,” he says quietly, zipping up his pants again and giving you a little nod before he walks back to his previous position behind you.

“Let me see, baby.”

You lick your lips, looking back to Namjoon, whose gaze is half-lidded as he comes down from his high. “Show me your cum-filled pussy.”

You reposition yourself on the chair, spreading your legs even further, and using your fingers to hold yourself open. After a moment, Jungkook’s cum starts spilling out of you. God, you hope this chair isn’t used often.

You hear two sets of groans from the walkie, and Namjoon picks the phone up again. “What a good girl, filled up with my cum. I’ll remember that sight when I’m back in there, baby.”

You blush as he stares at you around the mess of cum on the window. God, you feel bad for whoever has to clean that up.

You spread the cum that’s dripping out of your pussy around with your fingers, humming and relishing in the wet noises. You hear Namjoon hum, too.

“So, remind me why you can’t stay with me?” Namjoon says with a sly smirk. “You won’t find anyone else who can satisfy you like that, baby doll.”

You know he doesn’t just mean the physical fucking. He means the mind games. The kinky logic behind what just happened. And he’s right. No one else could come up with something so hot and so convoluted. It’s scary… but sexy.

Maybe… maybe you shouldn’t close your options off just yet.

You stare at him as you lazily circle your sticky folds. “I won’t wait for you,” you say with conviction. “But if I’m still available when you get out… then we’ll see what happens.”

You pop your fingers into your mouth and taste Jungkook’s release, which happens to be delicious. Fuck, is he just good at everything?

Namjoon doesn’t seem pleased at first, but then he smiles.

“That sounds fair to me, baby doll,” he agrees, and licks his lips. “I guess we’ll wait and see.”

“Probably useless to mention it now, but ten minutes were up about eight and a half minutes ago.”

Yoongi’s voice sounds bored despite the illicit tryst he just took part in. He catches your gaze through the glass, and tosses you a smirk as he lifts Namjoon up to his feet.

“I love you, baby. I’ll be back.” Namjoon leaves you with those parting words before dropping the phone as he’s hauled away.

You’re left with a mix of emotions as he disappears from your view. It feels bittersweet, even though you know you should feel nothing, except maybe anger or betrayal.

Someone coughs beside you, and you turn to see Jungkook holding out your pajama bottoms and panties. Good lord, the boy is bright red. “Uh, here… you go.”

You do giggle this time. “Thanks.”

While you get dressed, he rocks on his feet with his hands clasped behind his back, and gazes elsewhere to give you some privacy. Your heart melts at the gesture, and as you stand up, he looks to you nervously.

“So, um… hey, I heard you might be single now?” He smiles.

You laugh. “Yeah, actually.”

“Well, um…” he looks down shyly and scuffs his boot against the floor. “I mean, if you ever want to get drinks, or something… h-here’s my number.” He holds out a scrap of paper that he must have scribbled on while you were saying your goodbyes to Namjoon.

He’s so eager and innocent. It’s adorable.

It’s refreshing.

“I would like that… officer,” you say, giving him a shy smile in return.

He blushes, and you can’t help feeling that maybe someday, that ring in your purse might be put to use after all.

[saiilorstars]

Rise Up

Ch.7: At Odds

Previous Story: It Had To Be You || Current Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x OFC

Chapter Summary: Belén and Barry come to odds with their plans to fight against Zoom for the first time.

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog​ @maaaaarveeeeel​

[If you’d like to be part of this OC’s taglist, let me know!]

"Just let me go. Let me disappear," Dr. Light pleaded from her prison pod. She probably sounded like a broken record but it didn't matter to her. Ever since the team decided to try to reason with her, all she kept saying was to be freed so she could hide from Zoom. Unfortunately for her, they weren't having it.

"You would spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, never knowing when Zoom is coming," Barry meant to serve as a reminder but all Dr. Light did was shrug. "Okay, how were you supposed to contact him after you killed me?"

"I was supposed to get something... something I could only get if you were dead... and then throw it through the breach as proof," Light explained.

"And then what?"

"Then he'd come for me. Confirm the kill and bring me home," Light exasperatedly sighed. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I want to find him."

"You really don't," Light said with widened, alarmed eyes.

"He's gonna keep coming for me. He's gonna keep kidnapping people like you, forcing them to do what he wants," Barry shook his head. "I have to stop him before more people die."

"You can't stop Zoom. Okay, everyone on my Earth knows that Zoom wants the Flash from another world," Light shook her head fiercely. "You're not getting away. He has plans."

"Among those is the Siphoner?" Belén walked into the pipeline, throwing Barry a look for his secret meeting with the metahuman.

"It's only a matter of time until she comes," Light warned quietly, her voice indicating she was as much afraid of Datura as she was of Zoom.

"Well too late," Belén crossed her arms, "She's already here." Her revelation seemed to freeze Light in her spot. Fear accumulated in her eyes, making the other two metas almost feel sorry for her.

"You have to let me go!" Light pounded a fist against the pod. "If Datura is here it means Zoom knows I failed. She's going to siphon me or kill me!"

"Then help us take them down before they do any more harm," Barry still tried to reason with her, hoping that her fear would somehow help her see they were her only option now.

But Light refused. "Whatever you're planning, it's not going to work. Because if you somehow manage to escape Zoom's speed, you won't escape Datura's touch. A lot of us have tried and they're dead."

"We'll see," Barry meant it as a challenge.

~ 0 ~

"Zoom wants Doctor Light to send him your new emblem…" Caitlin repeated after hearing the story. It actually made sense in the villain's perspective, but since none of them were villains it just sounded plain crazy.

"Yes. We need it for bait," Barry glanced momentarily at his suit sitting on the display. "If we can get Doctor Light to take my emblem, throw it through the breach, then Zoom will come to collect my body, and we can trap him."

Cisco wasn't happy with that idea. "You know it took a lot of work to make that emblem, right?"

"Am I the only one who remembers that she tried to kill Linda just to escape Zoom?" Caitlin decided to input in case they truly had forgotten that crucial detail.

"Linda sure hasn't," Belén snorted.

"Look, I know we can get her to help us," Barry could almost promise it was the case. "She's rational, she'll see it's the only way."

"Before I left Earth-2, I worked on a serum to dampen Zoom's speed. All we would need is for Ramon to develop a weapon to deliver it," Harry shared.

"Oh, great, that could be this year's cold gun," Belén shot Cisco a warning look that he shouldn't even try it. "Maybe another criminal can get it, and then we'd have Sergeant Slow."

"I would never let that happen. Sergeant Slow is a terrible name," Cisco flatly responded with.

"Are we forgetting how much more powerful than Barry Zoom seems to be?" Caitlin looked at them incredulously. "I mean, if Barry can catch bullets, what's to say Zoom can't catch whatever you shoot at him?"

"Surprise... the element of surprise," Harry laid it out for them. "All we would do is rig a projectile to fire as Zoom crosses into the breach. He can't stop what he can't see coming."

"That's great," Barry was relieved to see that someone was at least following through with the idea.

"Thanks."

Caitlin shook her head. "Joe, voice of reason here?"

"We need a plan," Joe agreed on some level. "That's as good as any. As long as he can deliver."

"Don't underestimate me, Detective," Harry pointed and walked out of the cortex to get started on the task ahead.

Barry's phone went off and when he checked it he saw Patty's name on the ID. "Oh, Patty needs us back at the station," he told Joe.

Joe nodded. "I'll meet you there, all right?"

Barry agreed and took a head start with Belén.

~0~

"Hey," Iris stopped by Belén's desk at work. She put down a coffee for Belén and then took a seat at the edge of Belén's desk. "I didn't know you'd be coming in today."

"Yeah well, since my endeavors to get stronger, I've been neglecting my work," Belén reached for the cup of coffee. "I can't afford to get fired."

Linda came by rather nervously, and Belén knew once again what the reason was for her detour. "Hey. Have you had any word from The Flash about the meta-human that attacked us? Or the other one that got to me? Look at me, I have to keep count on who kidnaps me."

"Linda, I promise you that you'll be safe," Belén sighed. She knew it would take Linda a good amount of time before she could feel normal again, what with Dr. Light and Datura kidnapping her...

"Still...I'd just feel better if I could talk to, um...the Azalea? Or the Flash?"

"Linda, I don't think that's a good idea…"

"It's not that I don't believe you!" Linda exclaimed. "I just...I want answers, Belén. Why does that woman look like me? Knowing there's a metahuman with my face on who likes to nearly kill people makes it really hard for me to concentrate on field goals and doping scandals. And then I've got that new plant meta to think about? I don't want to sit around being told not to worry my pretty little head about it."

Belén acknowledged Linda's feelings and sighed. "I get that. Believe me, I do."

"Then tell the Azalea and Flash that I want to talk to them. I bet you can get the message across to the Flash. Please," Linda said, then added, "Iris says he'll listen to you no matter what because of that crush."

Had it not been because they were in public, Belén would have smacked Iris again for that. It definitely didn't help that Iris was smirking.

"I will...try my best," Belén forced herself to say in one go. Soon as Linda was gone though, she hit Iris on the arm. "I'm going to kill you for ever telling that to Linda."

"Sorry," Iris honestly apologized. "When I did that, I didn't know it was Barry. So really, this is your fault."

"Oh, yeah, my bad!" Belén playfully rolled her eyes.

~0~

After getting word of Dr. Light making a run for it, the group gathered at STAR Labs to figure out what exactly enabled her to do it.

"Doctor Light managed to hack into the lights of her cell. The whole building runs on fiber optics that operate on pulses of light, so she turned off the dampeners and used her powers," Cisco reviewed what he learned from the mechanics.

"And made herself invisible?" Belén glanced at the full costume Light had left behind for them. "That's possible?"

"Apparently," Cisco mumbled.

"I told you how dangerous she was," Harry was beyond mad with them. It wasn't like he had warned them about Light - oh wait, he had. "You should have listened to me and sedated her."

"I thought we would be able to convince her that helping us was the only way she'd free herself from Zoom," Barry argued.

"Well, you thought wrong!"

"Yeah. Okay, look, Doctor Light is gone, so instead of assigning blame, let's try to figure out what we're gonna do next," Joe cut in before they went any further.

"Do you think she's gonna try and take Linda again?" Belén worried over her friend who, at the moment, probably didn't know much.

"I had Iris bring Linda to the house, just in case, to keep an eye on her," Barry informed her to ease her concerns. "How are we doing with the speed-dampener?" he asked the others.

"I think we isolated the composite…" Caitlin began, still sounding unsure with this plan.

"And we're modifying the dart the Arrow used to take down Wells," Cisco added.

Harry was growing close to hitting something if they kept using that line. "He's not Wells. I'm Wells!"

"Whatever, Harry," Cisco sarcastically retorted in a louder voice.

"Okay, but we don't even really know if this thing works?" Joe asked just to be sure he was hearing all this craziness.

"Until we try it, no. This will be a field test, so can we end this scintillating staff meeting and get back to work?" Harry motioned he would at least continue with work while everyone else continued to talk.

"Or how about I say what everybody's thinking?" Joe challenged. "Maybe it's a good thing that Doctor Light is gone. Maybe it's the universe stopping us from doing something really stupid."

Caitlin made an agreeing gesture, and honestly Belén was close to doing the same. They had learned the hard way they couldn't just come up with any old, fast plan against Zoom.

"No. No," Barry said loudly. "Keep going. I'm gonna figure out another way to get Zoom."

"A-are you sure?" Belén had to ask, stopping him before he could leave. "Couldn't we come up with something we could all agree with?"

"We don't have the time," Barry sounded rhetorical. Did no one understand they couldn't have the luxury to sit down like a group and discuss their options? Options that were already little to begin with?

When Barry actually left the room, Belén released a sigh. "We can't just go through without calculating. I'm not the cop, I shouldn't have to tell him this."

"I've got you," Joe promised and went after Barry.

~0~

Later that day, Belén stopped by her childhood home to pick up one of the last boxes she meant to take to her new apartment. As she walked in, she found her mother working at the living room, unbeknownst to Belén it was with the papers Veronica had taken from the precinct earlier in the day.

"Mom, hey," Belén greeted and shut the door.

"Hi," Veronica seemed entranced with whatever she was reading at the moment.

"Where's Axel?" Belén searched for her nephew in the quiet room.

"Oh, out in the garden. What did you need?"

"Just coming to make another trip," Belén left her bag at the side table and walked up behind the couch. "What's all that?" she pointed to the mess of papers on the coffee table.

"Information on some old metahuman cases."

Belén raised an eyebrow at her mother, now noticing there were several manila folders spread around the coffee table. "Why are you looking at old meta cases?"

"Because there's some things not adding up, that's why," Veronica said so matter-of-factly one could believe it was just a casual thing she was doing.

"What?" frowned Belén. "What do you mean?"

Veronica sighed as she raised her gaze from her work. "There are several metas that the cops never found but the Flash and the Azalea did yet there are no arrest papers anywhere. Am I to assume the precinct just let it go?"

"Well, what does it matter? The metas were caught-"

"-what matters is that they were not brought to justice in the correct way," Veronica closed the file on her lap. "Does the CCPD let these super heroes take justice into their own hands? We are the cops. These metahumans should be in Iron Heights. And do you know the most significant thing I've discovered in all these cases?"

"Humor me," sighed Belén, figuring she wouldn't win this argument.

"Every single case has been handled by Joe West, with your boyfriend's signature right along the papers."

"Well...I would deem that normal since Barry is the only CSI at that precinct," Belén tried to be casual, and perhaps a tad sarcastic just to make it sound like she wasn't nervous. "I'd be surprised if he hadn't signed anything."

"These cases all have odd details, Belén. If it's not the fact there's no arrests, it's the fact that Joe's overseeing is everywhere on these cases. Does he only do meta cases that involve the Flash and the Azalea?"

"What?" Belén nervously laughed. "I don't know how case selection works. Do you choose your own case or-"

Veronica raised a hand to stop Belén from going further. "I'm beginning to think there's some secrets at this precinct. I'll have to keep digging."

"But Mom-"

Veronica got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen. "Are you staying for dinner? I'll get Axel and we cant try this new recipe I found online..."

Belén didn't listen to her mother in the end. She just kept wondering how complicated this would all get if her mother didn't stay away from meta cases. It could land Veronica into dangerous trouble with the newest metas in the city...as well as causing more conflicts between her and Barry and the Wests.

~0~

When Barry returned home the last thing he was expecting was to have the entire house smelling of a mixture of meals. He spotted Iris standing by the dining room that was filled with said mixture of meals.

"Are you guys having a dinner party?" for a moment he thought maybe he'd missed one of Iris' planned sleepovers.

"You would think," Iris crossed her arms and waited for Linda to return from the kitchen. Seconds later, Linda came by holding yet another pot of food.

"I know, I know. It's just, sometimes cooking helps me to relax," she profusely apologized to them both. She knew she was running them dangerously close to nothing in the pantries. "Have you heard anything about Doctor Light? Or that Datura? Am I still in danger?"

"We're not really sure…" Barry felt bad lying to her but they couldn't tell her much.

"Come on. I'm going crazy here, Barry."

"Yeah, she is," Iris nodded to the table full of meals.

Linda gasped when the oven timer went off. "That's the cake! Hope you're hungry."

"She's not kidding," Iris leaned off the table and started making way for the couch. "There's enough food in there to feed an army."

"She must be terrified," Barry misread the situation.

"Uh, more like furious. Someone nearly died because of this metahuman who so happens to look like her. And then she was used as bait in front of the entire city? I mean, trust me. If Linda had Doctor Light's powers right now…"

Barry suddenly raised his head with an incoming idea.

"What?" Iris recognized that as his thinking face.

"I just, uh, Linda and Light...they're identical. So identical that Light even thought she could fool Zoom. Now we have Light's suit." Barry stopped when Iris said nothing. "You don't even have to say anything, I know. It's a terrible idea."

"Well…" Iris tilted her head. "No, not really. We make Zoom think that Linda is Doctor Light and use her to draw him out."

"It's too dangerous, right?"

Iris would have said yes, but this was something neither could decide. "Let Linda decide. I mean, she's desperate to catch the person with her face who's terrorizing people, and she deserves the chance to help us."

"Okay," Barry smiled and started to tell her how it would work for Linda to help them.

~ 0 ~

Deciding to show up to Linda as the Flash, Linda was given the chance to try and help them set a trap for Zoom. Linda didn't think twice before agreeing to help. The idea was for her to pretend to be Dr. Light and have a fake fight with Barry where she would 'win' and hand over his suit's emblem as proof of his defeat.

"Where are they?" Belén walked into the training room where Linda would shortly be out to practice. She wasn't happy and that was evident as soon as someone saw her face. "I cannot believe - oh hell no." She had stopped beside a couple of cardboard cut outs near Cisco who was on top of a small scaffold. "Cisco, why is there a cut out of me?"

Cisco looked over the rail and grinned. "They're practice targets. Don't worry though, yours aren't the target."

"I was a bit more creeped out on the part where my friend keeps cardboard cut outs of me," Belén crossed her arms.

"It's important to have hobbies," Cisco turned over another cut out he was in the process of hanging. It turned out to be himself holding a camera while striking an odd pose of him sticking his tongue out.

Belén blinked emotionlessly for a second. "I fear for your future wife," she shared and walked away. She spotted Barry with Iris from a distance, the former donning his red suit, and so Belén made a direct beeline for them. "What is going on here!?" she asked them soon as they could hear. "Linda is doing what now!?"

"It's okay-" Iris began when Belén cut her off with a sarcastic 'really'.

"Having our friend who has no powers put herself on the line is not okay in my book!" Belén then glanced at Barry. "And was it really smart of you to show up like that?" she gestured to his appearance. "You outed yourself...ish."

"We don't have time to think of something else," he shrugged. "Besides, it can work, Bells."

"That's my friend," Belén said quietly. "I have known her for years. I can't even think about it if something happened to her because she got caught up in this."

"Hey," Barry took her into a hug, "I won't let that happen. I promise." Belén relaxed a bit but she still wasn't entirely on board with this idea. She felt like Barry was rushing into this without all the connections being made.

"This is ridiculous," they heard Linda coming in. Caitlin walked beside her in the costume that gave her the image of Dr. Light.

"Linda," Belén pulled away from Barry, blinking as she studied the new appearance of their friend.

"Belén, hey," Linda was relieved to see she'd been contacted. While she was comfortable with Iris, she had known Belén far longer and truly trusted her.

"You look...just like Doctor Light," Belén looked Linda over.

"I feel ridiculous," Linda admitted and hugged herself.

"You're fine," Caitlin assured and held out a pair of black gloves. Linda took them rather confused and looked at them for some explanation. "And with these gloves that Cisco rigged up, you'll be able to do what Light does."

"Oh...great," Linda said nervously as she began to put the gloves on.

"I'm gonna go make sure everything's been set up," Caitlin said and headed for the elevated platform where they would be monitoring Linda's practice session. Iris followed behind her, and soon enough went Barry as well.

"Linda, I'm sorry," Belén felt the need to apologize to her friend. However, Linda didn't understand only took a double-take at her in response. "I didn't know that...Flash, was going to pull this. Rest assured I would not have let him."

"What? No!" Linda exclaimed. "I'm glad Iris took me to him. Though I'm a bit surprised that Iris knows him too?" Belén's eyes widened for a moment but Linda, thankfully, went ahead and made her own assumption. "I guess that comes as a perk when you're the daughter's cop, hm?"

"Yes!" Belén didn't think twice in confirming. "Exactly."

Linda smiled and started walking with her towards the platform. She fixed the gloves on her hands and thought to ask whether or not these were pretty safe.

"They should be," Belén glanced at Cisco on the platform. "Right?"

"Totally," Cisco said without thinking.

"Ish," Harry said instead, freezing both women below.

"What?" Belén raised both her eyebrows.

"Well, come on, it's gotta be believable," Cisco tried to reason with them, "so they really do fire and explode things."

"Hm…"

"And you-" Cisco then pointed at Barry, "-are going to have to let her hit you with those blasts when she gets the hang of it."

"Please don't kill him," Belén then mumbled to Linda.

"Okay, the suit can absorb the blasts," Cisco said for her comfort, and probably Barry who wasn't looking so excited either.

"For real or 'ish'?" Belén crossed her arms. "Because let me tell you the difference between those two."

"Okay, you know what? I like to think I can see the bright side of things, okay?" Cisco got snappish with her as well. "Positivity, people," he clapped his hands and went back to work.

Barry gestured to Linda to follow him down the room where Cisco and Joe had set up several cardboard cut outs of themselves. "So just hit the ones of me. Okay?"

Linda nodded. "Got it. Great." She took several steps towards the cutouts, mumbling to herself to get prepared. "Doctor Light…" she took a deep breath and thrust a hand forwards to shoot. Soon as she did, however, she felt the gloves sort of take control and shot relentlessly. "Oh! Oh!" she stumbled back on her feet while the gloves continued shooting. Barry caught her from behind and thankfully put an end to the glove fiasco.

"Uh, you know what? I'm just gonna adjust those a little!" Cisco snatched a nearby screwdriver from the platform and rushed towards Linda who more than terrified now.

"Just...okay, so, um, do the opposite of that, and we'll have it," Barry gave a light pat on Linda's arm, figuring she was probably a little discouraged now.

Later, when Cisco promised that the gloves would not malfunction, they gave it another try. Linda led the way slowly searching for the right cut outs to shoot at. She nearly shot a couple of the 'civilians' but she did manage to shoot some of the right ones.

"Yes!" Linda cheered excitedly after shooting the first right cut out of the Flash. "I did it!" she turned back to her friends. "Did you see that?"

"Yeah!" Barry was equally happy to see her beginning to get the hang of it. The two went to do a high-five but Linda's glove accidentally went off and fired straight at the platform. Poor Cisco was blasted backwards to the floor.

"Oh my God!" Linda gasped. Cisco rolled to his side then sat right up, looking pretty annoyed. "Sorry?"

"She's gonna kill you," Belén quietly said to Barry, meaning all kindness for her friend. "And when she does...I'm going to kill you."

"C'mon…" Barry tried to be optimistic, but everyone else seemed to agree with Belén's perspectives.

After dispatching Linda with Iris, the group met back in the cortex to discuss the day.

"Okay, no offense to Linda, but there is no way she can pull this off," Caitlin honestly didn't mean to sound rude.

"Well, maybe if she didn't scream every time she fired," Cisco shook his head.

"Okay, Linda had a rocky start, but she can pull this off," Barry continued firm, apparently, despite everyone going against it. "I know she can. All right, did you find someplace near breach where we don't have to worry about civilians getting in the way?"

Against his better judgement, Cisco answered him. "Yeah, there's a place by the docks that's usually deserted at night."

"Awesome. Cait, how are we doing with the speed-dampener?"

"My tests indicate that it should work," Caitlin answered rather doubtfully as well.

"It will work," Harry was the only one who seemed to share Barry's persistence in the plan. "I'll tune up Ramon's gloves, make sure they work better."

"Okay great," Barry nodded as the other man started to leave.

"Wait, so we're actually going through with this?" Belén's eyes flickered from one person to the next.

"Yeah, we're doing this," Barry said, confused.

"Uuum…" Belén trailed off waiting to see if he would make the connection but apparently she hadn't been too clear. "We can't! Linda is not ready for this - hell, I don't even think we're ready for whatever plan you have in that big head of yours!"

"Bells, we don't have the time-"

"We need to have the time," Belén snapped. "I went up against Datura on a whim and I got my ass handed to me! Now my friend is going to be out there, risking her life to help us. The least you can do is be truly calculating and have a right plan."

Barry was giving her an incredulous stare for her sudden outburst. He couldn't believe she actually was doing that. Yes, she did make some sense but he made sense too. They didn't have the luxury of time. "We have this-"

"No, we don't," Belén shook her head frantically. "And I'm a little worried, honestly, that you're so hellbent on getting Zoom against everything. I...I can't go through with it." She decided that upon seeing that Barry wasn't exactly going to back down anytime soon. Waving her hands, she signaled she was sticking to her decision and leaving the place.

One would think that would be enough to put Barry straight, but he proved to be severely persistent. Now Joe thought enough was enough, and decided to add onto Belén's thoughts. However he would do it privately.

"I can't believe we're still on this, Barry," Joe gave a deep sigh and crossed his arms once Caitlin and Cisco had left them the cortex.

"Belén will get over it, but this is our only chance to get Zoom," Barry said truthfully. He thought that perhaps Belén was a bit too close to Linda and that's why she wasn't seeing what he was: the perfect chance to get Zoom.

"You saw what happened in there. Linda's not ready," Joe hoped to open his eyes.

"She is," Barry argued. "She's ready enough."

"Why are you pushing this!?"

Barry couldn't believe he was actually going to have this conversation. "What... why do you think? I want to get him!"

"Get who, exactly?"

"Is that a real question?"

"You tell me. I'm... I'm not sure this is even about Zoom, honestly," Joe admitted. "I'm starting to feel like you're still chasing the Reverse Flash."

"Reverse Flash is dead," Barry flatly said, finding no relevance in this.

"Yeah, but after all he did to you, you weren't the one that stopped him."

"We all worked together-"

"Yeah, and Eddie got him in the end," Joe reminded. "I mean, did that make you feel cheated, like you didn't get your revenge, and stopping Zoom is the next best thing?" Barry remained silent and for a moment couldn't look Joe in the eyes. "Belén is right. If you're gonna ask people like Linda to risk their lives, you better be sure of exactly why they're doing it. Otherwise, call it off."

With those words, he left Barry to think.

~ 0 ~

Belén thought nothing would help her distract herself than by working. So, she had thought to continue with her unpacking . And she did that...until she felt her arms would fall off for trying to put together a side table. Thanking the heavens that she had brought along one of her couches already, she plopped down and grabbed her laptop to hopefully continue an article she was meant to turn in by the end of the week. Trying to write proved difficult after spending a good thirty minutes coming up with about three sentences. Her attention, however, was drawn to the jiggling of her door's knob.

Thinking it was perhaps a burglar, Belén stopped her writing and began preparing for a fight.

"Auntie Belén!" Axel, instead, came running in after Veronica opened the door.

For a moment, Belén just stared at her incoming mother, ignoring Axel clutching her waist.

"Hey there, sweetie," Veronica closed the door like nothing and walked in.

"H-how did you get in?" Belén gave a pat to Axel's back. Seeing he was acknowledged, the boy rushed to his grandmother to retrieve his tablet so he could watch his shows.

"Oh, yes, well, Mark stopped by to give me his set," Veronica held up a different key in her hand. "I thought I'd bring it back for you."

"Okay…" Belén still wasn't very comfortable with her mother's presence.

"What's wrong?" Veronica noticed her daughter's odd behavior, despite their earlier disagreement she was pretty sure it wasn't related to her this time.

"Nothing…" Belén answered slowly and took the key from Veronica's hand. "Did...did you need anything?" she took a seat on the couch and grabbed her laptop again.

"I thought we should talk...about earlier…" Veronica took a seat across her daughter, setting her purse beside. Axel silently sat across on the same couch, delving into his tablet.

"Oh, you mean where you went ballistic on me?" Belén stared hard at her screen. "Yeah, no, I totally forgot about that."

Veronica may have thought it was sarcasm but in truth Belén had forgotten about it due to Barry and the Dr. Light situation. "Well I haven't, and I really don't want this to cause another problem between us."

"Well it's a little difficult when you're investigating my boyfriend's adoptive father."

"Not going to argue there," Veronica admitted. "But...Belén I'm a cop. I can't let things go where I don't see logic."

"Mom," Belén sighed. She pursed her lips together, struggling to keep it together all of a sudden. "I accept your apology, I do...but can we not do this right now? I just...I had a day...and I don't want to do anything tonight."

"Belén, what's wrong?" Veronica asked again, this time hoping she would get an answer.

Belén closed her laptop once she realized she would not be writing that night. "Barry and I may have had a disagreement."

"About…?"

"Stuff," Belén left it at that.

"Well that 'stuff' seems to be making your eyes, uh…" Veronica gestured to her own, "...kind of reddish…"

"It's normal stuff," Belén shrugged. "I don't like arguing with him but I had to say something."

"Good for you," Veronica said instantly, showing right approval. "Never swallow down your words for a man, sweetie."

There, Belén found amusement. "Yeah," she gave a slight nod of her head. "Well, I spoke my big mouth...and now I'm here."

Veronica took a moment to look at her daughter, and try to feel the pain Belén felt. With a sigh, she got up from her couch and moved to sit with Belén. "I told you my thoughts and on that man-"

"Yeah, believe me, we both got the idea," Belén sniffled a bit.

"But, if there was one thing that was left clear to me, was that this was something mutual. It's not everyday that a mother is shouted at that her daughter is loved by someone-"

Belén chuckled. "Yeah, believe it or not...he's sort of done that before with our old neighbor Mrs. Andrews."

"Really?" Veronica laughed for a moment. "Maybe you two share big mouths after all."

"Mom," Belén playfully rolled her eyes.

"Anyways, I can't seem to understand what you would argue about so suddenly," Veronica admitted. "You don't want to explain?"

It was then that Belén gave her mother a look that Veronica had never seen before. It entailed a mixture of guilt and concern to such a level that for a moment Veronica wondered what this argument was really about.

"It's private," Belén finally said, looking away from her mother.

"Really?" Veronica began to show her doubt and suspicions.

"Yes, um, it's just things between us, you know? Sometimes it's too intimate to tell someone…"

"Mm…" Veronica hummed and raised her head momentarily, apparently thinking, "...so, there isn't anything you want to tell me, then?"

"Mom, I'd really rather not," Belén meant that honestly. She didn't want to think what her mother would say if she discovered that her daughter had been moonlighting as the Azalea, and that her boyfriend was doing the same thing.

"Is 'secrets' something that Barry showed you how to keep?" Veronica got up, confusing Belén as she went on. "Because if he did, then I'm pretty sure he learned that from his pseudo-father Joe West."

"Mom…"

Veronica had crossed to the other couch to retrieve her purse. "If that's the matter then I'll have to take back everything I said about him."

"Mom, what are you-"

"I insist that Joe is covering something up with these meta cases," Veronica said, not raising her voice since Axel was still on the other couch. He was so in-tuned to his tablet he didn't notice their growing disagreements. "No one in this precinct bothered to check where these metahumans were initially being kept in prior to the metahuman compartment being built at Iron Heights. Every metahuman case that was handled was done so by Joe West and Barry Allen and that-"

"Mom-"

"I like knowing where I work, and who I work with. Now you and I can both see that there is something going on in that precinct that no one else has figured out. So I'm going to ask you, Belén, do you know something that I should know? Could this argument you and Barry had possibly be linked to these metahumans?"

Belén looked down for a moment. She knew that lying to her mother about this should have been easy considering this was something important. It was something that could put her mother in danger. But, Belén found it difficult to lie straight to her mother's face. Because right now, all Belén wanted was to tell her mother all her problems she was having. She wanted to tell her mother that someone was targeting her for something dangerous; someone wanted to hurt her. That the same someone had already sent her to get shot, had already fought her and won. Belén wanted to share that her boyfriend was also being targeted for a clear death and she was just scared he might get hurt, or killed.

I need my Mom, she came to the conclusion. That'd been the first time she thought about her mother like that...perhaps because it was the first time Veronica had been available as a mother to Belén...

But Belén couldn't do anything. Because telling Veronica everything would put her in the cross-fires of Zoom and Datura.

"There is nothing I have to say," Belén forced herself to say in one go. She surprisingly held her tears together as she then requested that Veronica leave.

Extremely upset with her daughter lying, Veronica took Axel and hurried out the door. Belén was right behind them and was there to quickly close the door.

"I'm sorry," Belén whispered, closing her eyes as they began to spill tears.

~0~

Heeding some of Joe's words, Barry decided to reveal himself to Linda in order to help both of them out. Linda was already discouraged of her villainous abilities, and seeing the Flash was an actual friend did make her a little more comfortable. It also did help explain some of the oddities surrounding STAR Labs and the Flash. So, she agreed to help him out once more. Dressed as Dr. Light, she took on the role as the Flash's current enemy.

"I'm here to kill you, Flash," she stood tall and mighty across the Flash. "I am loyal to Zoom, so get ready to fry."

Soon as she said those words she knew it was a bad pun.

She shot a ray of light towards Barry but hit a couple of a stockage from the docks instead. Barry whipped a head back and decided to just go with it.

"Ow!" he let himself fall to the ground.

"Gotcha," Linda smirked, although she struggled to stay with a serious face.

"Yeah, you did, real good," Barry pushed himself up.

"Bring it," Linda motioned with a gloved hand.

Barry sped towards her and when Linda shot, she actually managed to get him. Struggling, Barry got past her only to be shot yet again on the back. This time, his fall to the ground was not fake. Linda turned around putting on her best evil smirk.

"Told you, Zoom always wins." She walked towards Barry who had kept himself down. She bent down to take his emblem and found time to whisper to him. "You're okay, right?"

Barry cracked open an eye and whispered back. "Yeah, yeah. I had to make it look good."

Linda straightened up with the emblem in her hand. "Here it is, Zoom, I did what you wanted." She headed to where the open breech was in midair. "Now bring me home." She chucked the emblem into the breech and nervously waited for Zoom to appear.

Wells and Joe waited as well, but hidden in place with weapons hoping to deter Zoom's speed. Barry had to remain 'dead' on the ground but he was more than ready to jump at the chance when Zoom appeared. Everything was in place. Everything.

However, nothing happened. Minutes passed and everything remained silent. It added onto the fear already placed over several of the group.

"Hey, stop fidgeting," Linda hissed when she caught Barry slowly attempting to move his leg.

"Sorry, it's been an hour. I landed in a ridiculous position, and my foot fell asleep," the speedster argued quietly and returned to being 'dead'.

From STAR Labs, Caitlin and Cisco were carefully checking over any security feed from the docks they could find in case Zoom appeared from another unknown breech. "He's probably just waiting to see if you're really dead. Any minute now, he's gonna strike," Cisco said as a means of encouragement.

"No," Barry decided it was just not happening tonight. He sat up with a deep sigh.

"Sorry, I probably screwed up somehow," Linda hung her head, feeling like she had failed them all.

Barry got on his feet and moved over to give her an honest thank you. "No, Linda, you did great. Thank you for helping me."

Linda knew he was disappointed and smiled sadly. She wished there was more that she could do for him. Her thoughts were interrupted by Joe and Harry coming out of hiding and the latter loudly kicking anything in his way.

"So Wells ain't taking this well," Joe sarcastically remarked as he met with Barry.

"Mm-hmm…" Barry watched Harry turn in a different direction of the docks, storming and kicking things still.

"How about you?" Joe noticed how unusually quiet Barry was despite the loss of the night.

"Yeah, it just sucks, you know," Barry shrugged, thinking of the entire day's course. "You were right a little bit about this not being just about Zoom... about it being about the Reverse Flash. But not for the reason that you think, not because I didn't beat him." With a sigh, he explained the bit of an old video Joe had yet to know about, that everyone save Belén knew. "It's... Wells... he said something to me on that video before he confessed to my mom's murder. He said that even if he was dead, that he still won because I wasn't happy, that I'd never really be happy."

Joe frowned. It was truly unbelievable how Wells could still manage to screw with them even from beyond the grave. "How the hell would he know?"

Barry shrugged again, thinking logically. "He knew me. He knows future me."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Fine. But that's future you. This is the you here and now."

"I still think that Wells is right. Ever since I went back to that night and I didn't save her... I didn't save my mom, I just... there's just been this void in me. You know, I just feel like that is always gonna be there. For better or worse, Wells...he knew me."

"Better than I know you?" Joe would have laughed had it not been a serious matter. "He may have stalked you for 15 years, but I raised you. Look, Wells said what he said to you to mess with you... to get in your head one last time. If you listen to him, you let him win."

"I know," Barry sighed. And he thought that Wells was already beginning to win. Because of his rushed persistence with this plan, he had gotten into a big argument with Belén. God knows how he would be paying for that one.

"I don't want that. You're responsible for your own happiness, Barry," Joe sincerely hoped Barry would finally begin to listen again. "Forget about Wells. Think hard about what you want and what makes you happy. Go out and get it. Simple as that. All right?"

Barry smiled a bit, giving a small nod of his head. "Yeah."

~ 0 ~

Belén had just finished setting up a small rectangular pot holder for her new Azaleas up on the kitchen window when someone knocked on her door. She dumped the trash then hurried to go open. Her heart skipped a beat when she found Barry standing on the other side. Her first thought was his lack of knowledge of today's events, and for now it seemed like the best.

"You were right," Barry decided to open with that. Perhaps hearing he was admitting she had had a point would soften her up into talking with him.

"Please tell me Linda is okay?" Belén asked in fear. Her first assumption was that his plan went wrong and it got Linda into some serious pain.

"She's fine," Barry promised her. "Zoom...didn't show."

"Oh…" Belén knew that despite her feelings on the matter she didn't like to see Barry so upset either. It was important to him, for good intentions after all. She opened the door more and gestured for Barry to come in. "I'm sorry about that," she honestly said. A good part of her was happy that Zoom didn't show up to terrorize them all, because she knew they were not prepared to fight him yet.

"Thanks," Barry watched her close the door. Sheepishly, Belén crossed the living room, or at least intended to. Barry reached out for her arm and stopped her. "Bells, I'm really sorry. You were right about it all. I knew you were right from the start but I just...I wanted to catch Zoom already."

"Yeah, I think we all saw that," Belén said, mildly playful. "And I get it, believe me I do. I want nothing more than to get Datura...but I just don't like the fact you were willing to go into it all rushed and...fast. This time, we need to be slow and calculating. If Datura was difficult to manage, just imagine what Zoom is like."

"I know," Barry accepted it. "But I have to admit that...it wasn't entirely all about Zoom."

"Then…?" Belén smiled a little as she tried to understand what he meant. "...what was it about?"

"You remember the video Wells left behind as part of his will? Our Wells, I mean."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"He said that I wouldn't ever be happy no matter what. And...and it got to me more than it should have…" Barry ran a hand through his hair, still frustrated it did get to him so much, to this point actually.

"I can't believe you're still giving this dead man the time of the day," Belén said first and sighed. "His words are nothing. They should have gone through one ear-" she pointed to one of his ears, "-and out the other." She then pointed to his other ear. "Ever heard of selective attention? I use it all the time."

Barry smiled knowing this was her playfulness coming out to get them back on track. "Yeah," he nodded.

"You should have said something," Belén touched his arm. "Instead of making a scene in front of our friends, I would have had a very different conversation with you somewhere else."

"Believe me if I'd realized earlier I would have." Barry reached an arm around her waist and brought her closer to him and rested his forehead against hers. "I hate arguing with you, Bells, so much."

"Me too," Belén whispered. "I don't like it. It just feels wrong, you know? If that makes sense?"

"Yeah, it does. I don't like knowing that I upset the person that makes me the happiest." Barry gave her a moment to smile before kissing her. And this time, he meant to kiss her in a way that would show her he was truly happy with her despite everything that surrounded them. He walked her up against the nearest wall and kissed her.

Belén let herself be encased in his arms and kissed back until she had to breath, but even then she barely wanted to let go. Barry dragged his lips from hers and set a one kiss on her cheek, then another lower on her jawline, and last on the side of her neck. Afterwards, he nuzzled his nose against her neck, relishing from their moment. This is what made him happy - she made him happy.

"Can we just rest for a while?" his soft tone made it hard for Belén to understand the first time.

She turned her head to the side and met his eyes. "What?"

"The Zoom problem, the Datura problem...I just need one moment of peace...with you," Barry repeated, hoping he made sense without sounding...weird.

Belén brought a hand to rest on his cheek, and just a few seconds after Barry placed his hand over it. "Okay. Let's do that."

She gently pulled him into the hallway and brought him into her bedroom. She wished she could have finished fixing it earlier, but what was done was done. At least she'd gotten the bed. It was an odd thought to just lay down together without doing anything. Usually, they had some movie times or at the very lest were joking with each other about something. Tonight, there was no television. There was no movie. There were no jokes.

And yet, things seemed more...intimate.

Barry was the one to rest his head next to Belén's neck. He eventually scooted closer to her and nuzzled his nose against her neck. Belén moved her arm so that it would rest over his back and she could run her fingers up and down.

It was peaceful.

"We should do this more often," Belén's voice was soft and quiet, perfect for the moment.

"Mhm," Barry had nestled his head closer to the crook of Belén's neck. He didn't want to move anytime soon.

So they continued to lay together, doing nothing except be together. But, like all good things, it had to come to an end. Half an hour later, both of their phones started vibrating. At first, neither of them wanted to move. Neither wanted to break the nice, peaceful bubble.

But the phones kept vibrating.

"I'm sorry," Belén kissed Barry's hair and sat up so she could answer her phone. Iris was on the other end of the line, and once she was able to speak she said it all in one fast ramble.

Zoom had Linda.

~ 0 ~

STAR Labs' computers were all simultaneously ringing in alarms, indicating there was a new visitor in the area.

"He's on the roof!" Harry shouted soon as he got word from the computer.

"He has Linda," Belén rushed to the desk to see through the security cameras where oh where was Linda. "Is Datura with him!?"

While the question couldn't be answered at once, they had a clear view of Zoom. He had chosen to dangle poor Linda over the roof's edge just as Barry got there. Proving to be the ultimate villain, Zoom dropped Linda like she was a pair of socks. Barry sped down to the ground and, using his whirlwind trick, softened Linda's fall into his arms.

"You need to get out of here, okay?" Barry set her down on her feet.

Linda was beyond terrified. "No, you can't fight that thing. It's a monster! I don't know who's worse, him or that crazy lady!"

"Just go!"

Linda looked up at the roof and thinking that Zoom would come for her again as bait, she ran off as fast as she could.

"What is that thing?" Belén was disgusted by Zoom's appearance despite it being only through a computer screen. She had yet to see the full figure of the speedster but now wished she hadn't. "He cannot be human."

Zoom was pitch black, from head to toe. There was an eerie spark around his figure. One could even say his suit didn't have gloves for hands but instead for claws.

"He is human," Harry was also staring in disgust but in a different tone. "Or was, at least."

"How the hell is Barry supposed to defeat that?" Cisco was thinking of the odds in their favor and they were not looking good.

"Why is he running away?" Harry scowled after they all saw Barry speeding away from Zoom. It looked like even Zoom was a bit confused on it too.

"He's not," Belén shook her head. "He wouldn't. I think we can all agree he's not scared."

A delirious laugh came from Cisco, prompting everyone to look at him. "Ooh, he's gonna thunderbolt him!"

"What?" Harry was left thinking.

"Jay taught him how to throw lightning," Caitlin explained.

Barry returned with a thunder bolt that he threw directly at Zoom. They were all stunned, and horrified, to see Zoom literally grab said thunderbolt and throw it right back at Barry, causing the red speedster to crash against a wall.

"Did he just…?" Belén gaped and glanced at the others just to make sure she hadn't seen things. Even Barry was in disbelief.

"Did you guys see that?" he asked through the comms.

"Uh, see him catch a bolt of lightning with his demonic claws?" Cisco met everyone's looks. "Yeah, saw that."

"Jay was right. He cannot do this alone," Caitlin shook her head.

In their shock, they hadn't even seen Harry go into the side room and come back with his trusty, big gun. "He's not alone," he was busy inputting the syringe into it.

"Barry, maybe this a strategical point where you just run," Belén spoke into the comm. hoping he would listen to her.

"No," Barry, unsurprisingly responded. He had gotten back on his feet and pulled out another syringe carrying the speed-dampener liquid. "I'm gonna see if Wells' speed-dampening serum works."

"Yes, but maybe this is the 'rushed, uncalculating' thing we were talking about earlier?"

Although Barry didn't turn off the communication system, it was almost like he did. He ignored the worries of his girlfriend in an attempt to finally put Zoom down.

"How is Barry gonna match Zoom's speed?" Belén sighed, looking to one of her smarter friends for some reassurance this wouldn't end so bad.

"He's not," Cisco smirked once he had made the realization. "He's gonna take it out of the equation altogether."

Caitlin exchanged a look with Belén, neither one of them in the know. "What are you talking about?" Caitlin then asked.

"Terminal velocity. The highest velocity attainable by a falling object."

"You mean...falling through...the air…?" Belén waved her finger above her head.

"Yeah, freefall fight. Their drag force equals the downward force of gravity, making the net force zero, making…"

"Equal velocities," Caitlin joined Cisco in the end.

"That is genius!" Cisco repeated.

"Is it really?" Belén bit her lip nervously and stared at the computer screen like a hawk.

Following through with Cisco's theory, the two speedsters had made it into the air and as they fell, they tried attacking one another. However, Zoom was the one to put Barry to the ground. Zoom picked him right up and delivered a series of punches that disoriented Barry. The last blow, the strongest of all, was given through the back - through the spine. Barry wasn't sure what he was hearing anymore, nor what he was seeing (it was all mostly blurry) but he was sure he had felt that cracking of bones.

"Never forget, I am the fastest man alive," Zoom declared without a scratch on him to show evidence he'd been in a fight.

"He's killing him!" Belén shouted frantically and turned around, making a run to go and help.

"Woah!" Cisco quickly jumped from his chair to block her way. "You can't go out there! He'll kill you too!"

"Someone has to help him!" Belén tried pushing her way but Cisco kept her there despite her fight. "Cisco!"

"Guys!" Caitlin's loud call made them both stop. They rapidly returned to the desk to see what Caitlin wanted them for. Zoom had injected the speed-dampener into Barry's bloodstream and hadn't stopped there.

"Where did he go!?" Belén slammed a hand on the desk once they lost sight of Zoom and Barry. Even Harry, who'd gone out to help Barry, was struck with confusion.

"I-I don't know," Cisco seemed unable to think of something to help them.

"FIND HIM!" Belén cried. She would've done it herself but she didn't know how the system worked.

Zoom had gone to CC Picture News to make a show of his 'triumph'. In one hand he held an unconscious Barry and addressed the entire staff. "Look at your hero."

Iris nearly had a heart attack. Behind her, cameras started going up and active.

"This man is no god. He is nothing!" Zoom left them with that knowledge and next made a stop at the precinct. "The days of The Flash protecting this city are over."

All of the cops in the area formed a line with aimed guns at the speedster.

"Put him down!" Joe was the one to shout at Zoom.

"Now what will you do without your precious hero?"

"Shoot that thing, now!" Singh gave the order.

All the cops fired until their guns finished their ammo but in the end, Zoom merely dropped all of the bullets to the ground from his palm. "Nice try."

He then sped off again.

~ 0 ~

"I should have gone out there," Belén repeated for the tenth time since Zoom had gone off their radar.

"And then what? Get yourself killed? I don't think so," Cisco remained adamant that he had done the right thing in keeping her inside the place. He was sure that Barry would agree with him.

"But then we wouldn't be in this-" Belén gasped when Zoom sped right into the cortex. "Barry!"

"Harrison Wells, you thought you could defeat me with this?" Zoom lifted Barry's body like it was some rag doll in his possession.

"I made a mistake," Harry admitted truthfully.

"Yes, a costly one."

"Let him go! Let him go right now!" Belén yelled frantically and threw a hand forwards, releasing a vine.

Zoom dropped Barry and sped up to her. Belén gasped with the ugly sight in front of her face, though a good part of it stemmed from fear.

"You are not my fight," he said just a second before Cisco shot a third syringe of the speed-dampener.

Belén stumbled backwards, yelping when Zoom dropped to his knees. Still, he managed to speed out of the place before they could capture him. Soon as he did, Belén ran for Barry's body on the floor.

~ 0 ~

As soon as Joe arrived at STAR Labs after the Zoom fiasco, he went directly for blame. If he thought Harry was suspicious before, now he firmly believed that Harry was at fault for all of it.

"This is all you! If Barry dies, you die!" Joe jabbed a finger on Harry every time he said a word.

"Enough!" Belén walked into the cortex in a hurry with Cisco. Their shouts had carried over down the hallway and, fearing a fight, Belén and Cisco left the workroom to come and stop the two men. "Joe, I get you're angry, believe me I am too, but Harry's got nothing to do with it. Barry wanted to go through with the plan in the end. No one forced him."

Still, Joe cast a menacing glare at Harry who looked more or less unaffected.

Cisco debated whether or not to bring in the mysterious topic he'd learned from Harry, but seeing that Joe was inches away from punching Harry, he decided to go with it. "Who's Jesse?"

It was easy to see that Harry was shocked to know that Cisco had knowledge of the name. "How do... Jesse's my daughter. Zoom has her." Cisco seemed to then be making the connections from his earlier vibe. Harry rushed up to him. "You've...you did vibe me-"

"Yes-"

"What did you see?"

"I saw your daughter. She was with Zoom," as Cisco explained, the others shared mutual surprise - and a bit of understanding - looks.

"But she's alive?" Harry needed to hear proper confirmation that his daughter was still breathing.

"Yes," Cisco said, and he admitted that he did feel a bit of sympathy for Harry. If he was grumpy all the time and had short patience it had to be because he was constantly worrying over his daughter being kidnapped by Zoom.

"Zoom sent you here like the others? You kill The Flash, and you get your daughter back?" demanded Joe, still un-inclined to see Harry in any other light.

"I don't...think he did…" Belén barely got the chance to say when Harry answered and explained his reasons.

"The only way I get my daughter back is I capture Zoom. Do you understand?" Harry tapped the side of his head sarcastically. "You love Barry. I love my daughter. And none of these children are safe as long as Zoom is here. I tried on my Earth to capture him. I failed. I thought I could bring him down here with Barry's help. I was wrong."

"Where are you-" Joe didn't finish on account of Harry storming out of the cortex.

~ 0 ~

When Barry finally came to, he felt his entire body aching in pain. He felt something tight around his neck and took a couple of seconds to realize it was a neckbrace.

"Can you hear me, Barry?" he heard a familiar voice beside him. He found Belén sitting beside his bed, looking so concerned over him. "I've been calling you for a couple of minutes now. Can you hear me?"

"Sorry…" Barry looked around as much as he could and saw it was broad daylight through the windows.

Belén followed his gaze and sighed. "You were out-cold for the entire night. Cait said it was normal, for you anyways…"

"How bad is it?" Barry could see a couple of bruises on his arms and he was sure there were more to discover once he could get rid of the neck brace. But even now, his body still hurt to the point he'd rather not move.

"Well, Caitlin said if you didn't heal fast it would be truly bad," Belén felt relief knowing this situation wouldn't last long for him.

"And...Linda?"

"She's fine. She told Iris and me that she was going to stay with some friends out in Coast City," Belén sighed. "I think after everything that's happened to her it's the best thing she can do."

"...Zoom?"

Belén's eyes lowered. "Um...let's...let's give that some time." When she looked at him again she had plastered a fake, cheery expression for him. "Caitlin says that in a couple of days you'll be able to try and walk and run again." She touched one of his legs with a small smile. "But you're gonna have to be patient. And don't worry, I have a lot of movies we can watch. Maybe we can try to just rest together again?"

Barry smiled, though tired, because the way in which she had asked made her look adorable. He needed that right now. "I'd like that."

Belén's smile widened. She ran her hand up and down his leg. "But you'll be patient, okay?"

Before Barry could answer, he thought of something. He realized that in all this time he hadn't felt her touch. Her fingers running down his leg...he didn't feel it. Thinking perhaps it was just the medication that was affecting his mind, he tried sitting up to check for himself.

"N-n-n-n-n-n-no, you have to stay put!" Belén assumed he would try to get back in the running game before he could.

"No, Bells, I...I didn't feel your hand…"

"What-"

"I can't feel my legs!" Barry frantically yelled, leading Belén to call for their friends.

~ 0 ~

"It's about time you showed up," Wells heard soon as he put one foot into the alleyway he'd been appointed to.

Datura's heels clicked against the cement underneath but she still walked in a graceful manner to meet with Wells. "I was doing my errands." Her sarcasm was met with rolling eyes. "C'mon, you can at least say you like where we're meeting," she gestured to the alley, "It's where I made my first Earth 1 kill a few days ago. What was her name?"

Harry dismissed her smugness and went straight to business. "The hell did you want me for? Can I expect Zoom to make another appearance?"

Datura smirked, almost laughing since she knew exactly what happened. "He really knows how to make an entrance, doesn't he? But that's not why I'm here now. I need you to retrieve something for me," Datura said, losing her sarcasm when it came to her brewing idea.

Of course that idea, whilst unknown to Harry, was one that would require him to further betray the STAR Labs team. "What do you need?" he finally asked.

"It's simple. I need Belén's suit tracker." Datura raised her head the moment Harry's eyes widened. She was already tall, but this was one of her ways to feel in control. And unfortunately for Harry, she was in control.

"Why do you need that!?"

Datura's red lips curled into an evil smirk. "That's for you and the others to find out later - soon, if all my errands go well."

"I...I can't do that-" Harry attempted to argue but Datura raised a finger to stop him.

"Don't say no to me. No one says no to me," she said darkly, bringing one gloved hand to the air. Electricity crackled around it for a few seconds before it was fired at the dumpster just behind Harry. The man jumped to the side to avoid getting hit then wildly blinked at her. She, however, remained completely at ease. "It's not a difficult mission, Wells. All you have to do is take the damn device and bring it to me. I'd let you keep it but I don't trust you not to hand it back to the others."

"What do you need it for!?" Harry still demanded some type of answer from her.

"For an idea, I've said this already," she playfully rolled her eyes.

"I can't take that from her suit!"

"Well, I'd ask you to take it from Barry's suit but he's on another level. I'll take care of him when the time comes." Her resurfaced evil smile gave Harry the chills.

"I thought he was all Zoom's..."

"He is, but it doesn't mean I can't have my own fun. Besides," Datura put her hands behind her back as she took a couple steps forwards, "He's not my target. He's really just a bonus for me - to get to Belén, I need him on the side. And to do that, I need Belén's suit tracker. It's really a whole-" she made hand gestures in the air, "-cycle thing that only I understand, but..." she drew in a deep breath and put on a sweet smile, "...it's all good. I get it. So-" she came to stand right in front of Harry, her sweet smile gone and replaced with seriousness, "-get me the suit tracker by tonight or I'll get it myself and I won't care who gets in my way."

Harry honestly felt like shooting her right there and then...but he was out of weapons...and he was short one daughter. "Fine."

[wanna-b-poet31]

Aziraphale’s Lies and Crowley’s Truth (A 3-Part Series) Part 3: Liminal Spaces, Happy Faces

A final installment of a series I started!! Will wonders ever cease? >tbh I want to preemptively start this final installment saying that I’ve been staring at the word doc for a solid 3 months trying to will the right words to come to me... let’s hope these are good ones?<  #sorrynotsorry for the delay

Honestly, I could do a whole other series about why Crowley is fallen and Aziraphale is not. However, I wanted to refocus this series on my central argument that honesty (or lack thereof) is a strategic tool for establishing their in-between status...their humanity, as it were.  

To grossly summarize parts 1 and 2  (but no seriously check them out) Crowley can lie, he’s actually pretty slippery but he chooses to be honest and forthright with Aziraphale on purpose. Meanwhile, Aziraphale wields his lies like his sword, trying to protect the two of them from Heaven’s wrath. 

The problem is, when Crowley is so heartbreakingly honest, like genuinely, unapologetically honest, to Aziraphale, he leaves both of them vulnerable. Without the security Heaven claims to provide him, Aziraphale panics, is afraid that revealing his hand -- that he feels for Crowley, wants to go to Alpha Centauri with Crowley -- will put both of them in danger. So, he does what he does best, he lies, cutting both of them. They fall out of sync, they’re set up for failure, they’re not on the same page, and ultimately they’ can’t occupy the same space or same side.  

See Aziraphale’s face here? [a gif where Aziraphale is shouting at Crowley that “We’re on opposite sides”] The tone of voice? The desperation in his face? It’s clear that he’s lying, and it’s detrimental. 

BUT when Aziraphale (and it has to be Aziraphale) realizes he’s miscalculated his lies, realizes that his position is not protecting Crowley (or the earth), but realizes that he IS, and perhaps has always needed to be, on Crowley’s side, the true nature of Heaven is revealed (to him). 

Once they are reunited, their lies are weaponized, their honesty is protective, and they create a new space for themselves and humanity to exist. They don’t fit in Heaven or Hell or even in a garden. In a very real way, they become more human once the realize the impact of their actions and the weight of their choices.

No, I don’t mean I literally think they’re human now, they’re as magical as ever. But by the end of the series, they DO become a new kind of hybrid, occupying the same liminal space between holy and hellish that humans do. And the evolution of their honesty and lies -- their supposed “flaws” -- enable them to form their own side. 

It allows them the freedom of choices.

ANGELS OF LIES

I think it’s important to point out that Aziraphale isn’t the only lying angel. 

All of them lie. Often.  

Examples:

We first see the lies appear when Gabriel praises Aziraphale for trying to “turn” Warlock to the good side. It becomes evident that by the end of the series, the angels never had any intention of stopping the war.

We see Michael lie (by omission) when she shows Gabriel the photos of our ineffable duo. She neglects to mention that she got them from Ligur. 

The only true difference is the target of their lies and the fact that they all justify their actions under the flag of dogmatic loyalty and their presumed “goodness”. None of the other angels ever quite question their own actions. They simply “do” in the name of the Lord. Their prophecy of a great war drives each of their actions, and each reads it as an immutable fact.  

While the vague nature of the prophecy allows them some wiggle room (like Michael conspiring with Ligur, and Gabriel with Beelzebub) to behave and build an ineffable bureaucracy around it, at the end of the day, none of them act like there is even a choice. They presume their destiny has been solidified.

Looking at Gabriel’s insistence that “Wars are not meant to be avoided, they're meant to be won” demonstrates, at least on some level, he firmly believes that angels are predestined to fight, to win, and to crush demons under his shoes. There is no question in his mind then, no wayward thought asking “should we do this” or “is this right”, he simply is following “orders”. There is the implicit belief then, that “to war or not to war” is not “find the solution with the least harm” but rather a really toxic “win or die” mentality. Any dissent, in this framework, must be squashed.

Any dissent...like Aziraphale. 

In the GIF above, when Aziraphale asserts that the angels have a choice, “there doesn’t have to be a war.” Look at the condescending posture and the fake smile. His response “Of course there does, otherwise, how would we win it?” speaks volumes to how he sees the situation. There is no choice for him, not necessarily because he doesn’t see there’s no choice, but because the alternative would be losing, and Angels don’t lose.  

There’s a real danger for Aziraphale at this moment, although he has been conditioned not to see it. If he is honest to Gabriel, the way Crowley needs him to be as a partner, for posing the question, for insisting that there is a third option.  This moment of honesty after several bald-faced lies makes Aziraphale very vulnerable to retaliation. Retaliation, mind you, that we DO see him endure (a la Sandalphon).  

THE DEMON IS IN THE DETAILS

Similarly, the demons show that they believe this is their chance to overcome Heaven. That there is no choice on whether or not they will fight, because the choice has been made for them. They must fight. The only question is if they will win. Like the Angels there is no question if they can fight or not, they simply must, and everyone is vying for a role in the destruction. 

Interestingly though, while Ligur and Hastur condescend “what is the world coming to if Demons started trusted Demons”, we also see an honesty streak.

Hastur, in particular, is oddly a beacon of honesty, but particularly gullible. Yeah, he’s malicious (we see him burn down the church, threaten Crowley, and kill another demon) but we don’t really see him lie... do we see him lie? Sure he’s wrong a lot, but he’s not good at lying like Crowley is, nor prone to it like Aziraphale is.

For example, we see him openly and honestly communicate with Ligur while they’re sulking, waiting for Crowley to show up. Sure, he’s wrong about what “Caio” means, but is it a lie? It seems more like his arrogance of Italian, transliterating it to an English word than an actual lie.  

The closest lie I can think about is when he’s disguised himself to capture Crowley. He doesn’t even lie when he’s reading out Crowley’s crimes to the audience.

Instead, we actually see that he’s actually surprised by Crowley’s lies. As much as he claims not to trust other Demons, when he’s actively pursuing Crowley and Ligur is killed, for a split second, Hastur looks like he believes Crowley’s lie that “the Dark Council” is testing him. 

This seems to put extra emphasis on Crowley’s ability to lie but not be unnecessarily cruel (whereas Hastur is cruel but doesn’t lie). Or that choosing to lie to Hell, for the sake of Aziraphale and himself, is paramount.

Crowley, in contrast to Aziraphale, realizes this “must and at no point tries to be honest with Hell. He’s smooth, he’s suave (at least he tries to be) he tries to get out of it, flatly stating that his own role in it (delivering the anti-christ) is not his scene. Then, he tries to stop the end of the world, he convinces Aziraphale it’s needed, gives him the pretext to make that third option a reality, and actively refuses the dichotomy of their bosses. 

It’s not until Aziraphale is fully out of the picture (read: presumed dead) that Crowley gives up, that he succumbs to the idea that it really is hopeless. Which, I will come back to.

HUMANITY’S VIRTUE

Meanwhile, humans don’t take well to black/white dichotomies. They neither are heaven incarnate nor hell incarnate. They simply are human. And that means they have choices. 

This manifests a few different ways in the series, but first, let’s look specifically at the dynamic between our “predestined” Anathema and our  “what the actual fuck is happening right now” Newt.  

Anathema (in the series) is pretty much trained in the ways of reading and interpreting Agnes Nutter’s prophecies. She has trained every moment since she was a child in the ways of occult studies and believes to a fault that she has no choice. The clearest example is how she doesn’t (really) choose to sleep with Newt because she liked him, or knew him, or seemed to care at all about his feeling on the matter, but because it was foretold. There is no real sense of choice.

Now, it seemed to have worked out, with them happily ending, but it’s “happiness” balances upon the fact that with Newt’s support, Anathema CHOOSES to reject the predestined nature of being a descendant. While I’m sure Aziraphale weeps over the loss of more accurate prophesies from Agnes Nutter, her decision to burn the second book is crucial not only to her sense of self but to the core message of what it means to be human.  To have choices.

Then, there’s Adam, the adversary... >incredibly long title/name<. His friend’s support allows him to make the choices he wants to make, and be proactive with his powers. Aziraphale says it best when he says he feared Adam would be Hell incarnate but hoped he would be Heaven incarnate, but he’s neither, and that’s a GOOD thing. 

“An Ineffable Game of Own Creation”

But why go through all of this in an Honesty series?

Consider, for a moment, this phrase “God does not play games with the Universe”. It’s a phrase that nicely bookends the series, appearing prominently in the first few minutes of episode one, and again after Adam and his friends have bested War, Famine, Pollution, and Death.  But, what does its appearance mean, if anything?

Choice.

This (book/tv) series is really predicated upon choice. And, consequently the presumed lack thereof our characters have. Again and again, we are shown that the Angels, the demons, Anathema, and even God herself, repeat the idea that “God is not guessing” or “we make no real choices”.

But Adam, Crowley, and Aziraphale reject this notion and actively create an alternative. 

Adam rejects his destiny, he rejects his demonic father and chooses to leave the garden (versus the original Adam and Even who were shunned, cast out, and really isn’t that a traumatizing experience in itself?) because he chooses to be human. 

But Adam is Human (at least now) how is this relevant to the ineffable duo? Two unquestionably supernatural entities?

Well, Crowley is as far as I can tell upon my 6,000th review of the series, has the series’ best ability to lie, even though few of his demon counterparts do. We’ll chalk it up to his imagination, but with this great power to deceive, he actively chooses to trust Aziraphale, to be honest, even if he’s hurt in the process.  

Aziraphale meanwhile is a shit liar, especially compared to Crowley’s and the other Angel’s abilities.  But he is a defensive one. He needs to protect himself, then Crowley, then humanity, but he can’t do that until he chooses to occupy the liminal space between Heaven and Hell. 

But they can’t do this alone. 

This “third” option that they’re carving out for themselves requires them to be blunt and honest and defensively protective of each other. This is why, when Crowley is in the bar, convinced Aziraphale is dead, he breaks down. Without Aziraphale, this third option is unobtainable because there is no one else who could share the space with him. There would be, nobody to love, as it were. 

This is also why (I think) the lies from Metatron breaks Aziraphale. If it’s clear, even for an instant, that no one on his “side” is willing to consider an alternative option, an option that would spare demons, then he wants no part of that option. He flatly refuses to fight in a war that would mean the destruction of Crowley and tells the quartermaster as much in his epic swan dive out of Heaven. 

This new space is distinctly not human in the literal sense (neither of them is human), but it’s also not heavenly or hellish. It’s a space for them to leave the garden, to continue to be who they are, fight for what they love and feel safe knowing they are a team (romantic or otherwise).

A third space is really what Crowley and Aziraphale have been working for since day one because no other force will consider that maybe, just maybe, there are alternatives to the good/bad, angel/demon, live/death dichotomies Heaven and Hell create for themselves.  It is the place that Aziraphale will lie to protect, and Crowley will honestly confront if it means they are finally going the same speed, together. 

TLDR: The way that honesty and lies work in this series allows for Crowley and Aziraphale to “break free” as it were and create a space for themselves to exist. 

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

[pinnithin-writes]

Good Jokes

Chapter 2

The Resonance Cascade hurt. Tommy felt the dimensional rift tear open space as if it were a hole punching through his own body. Even with his limited power there was no way he could have stopped something so catastrophic from happening. By the time the convulsions died down, the monsters had already hopped the gap.

Black Mesa was buckled and warped like a Coke can left in a freezer. Tommy wound up somewhere further away from the blast than he anticipated and had to pick his way through the wasted hallways to get back to the explosion site. What a mess. He passed the bodies of humans and extraterrestrials alike, fighting down a growing sense of nausea as he went. Did Benrey do this? It seemed like a stretch, even for him.

Tommy eventually found Gordon, alive and relatively unharmed, and learned that Gordon had picked up three others on his way out of the test chamber. Benrey was unkillable, as was his nature, so that presence didn’t surprise Tommy. Dr. Coomer was always tough, and it stood to reason that he could survive the blast from an interdimensional anomaly. Bubby, well. He wasn’t dead anymore, was all Tommy knew.

Now, they were trucking through the test facility at a steady clip, picking off creatures as they went. Tommy wasn’t armed - he didn’t need to be - but Gordon was making decent headway with a crowbar and Bubby had… located a revolver somehow. Tommy had questions about Bubby. For now, however, he was hanging in the back of the group, keeping one eye on Benrey, because Benrey was always up to something, and one eye on Gordon, because, well, just look at him.

The elevator crash had shoved him off a cliff he was never climbing back up from. That was a hard thing for Tommy to watch; aside from witnessing the death of three strangers, he also had to see something small and fragile snap inside Gordon, like the breaking of a flower stem. He hadn’t killed those people, not really, but he believed that he did, and that was somehow worse. Tommy didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how to tell Gordon that a lot more people would die before this was over.

To make things worse, the company they kept was slowly chipping away at Gordon’s sanity. Bubby was insufferable. Coomer was unhelpful. Benrey was… flirting with him. Indistinguishable from harassment, which Tommy knew from firsthand experience. The new guy needed someone in his corner. It may as well be Tommy.

Gordon was at least adjusting relatively well to the supernatural. He had gotten over the idea of aliens invading pretty quickly, and when Bubby had outright told him he was born in a tube in the lab, Gordon took it in stride. That was right before he had clapped a heavy hand on Tommy’s shoulder, sending a shiver all the way through his body.

Wow, that was nice. Been a long time since Tommy felt something like that. He almost forgot to be offended when Gordon jokingly said that he was five. “We love our little Tommy,” Bubby had commented sarcastically. “We love Tommy,” Gordon had agreed genuinely.

Tommy didn’t know what to think about that, his brain glitching out in a pleasant sort of way with Gordon’s hand still on his shoulder. Then he let go and they kept moving, leaving Tommy just standing there, pulse on the uptick.

Get it together, man. You have an apocalypse to deal with.

A brief raid of the break room brought back memories of that morning. Was it really just that morning? The past few hours had felt like days. There wasn’t a lot to be found in there except the drinks from the vending machine. Tommy hung back while his colleagues pawed through the drawers and cabinets.

Gordon glanced at the bulletin board and over to Tommy, flashing a smile of acknowledgement. Tommy returned it with a wordless raise of his eyebrows. So he still had a sense of humor in this nightmare. That was a good sign.

The eye contact between them lingered for far longer than was appropriate. Take a picture, baby, it’ll last longer, was what Tommy’s brain said. “Grab a soda, it’ll help you see faster,” was what came out of his stupid mouth. Nice one, genius.

The laugh Gordon barked out seemed to surprise him. It was tight with stress, but his smile was lovely as ever.

“I don’t know what that means,” he chuckled, hefting the crowbar in his hand, “but sure.”

He really didn’t know what the hell Tommy was talking about and he still laughed at the bullshit he blurted when his brain stopped working. Tommy smiled and shook his head. He was definitely keeping this one.

The vending machine was cracked open like a walnut and they continued on their way.

It became an unspoken game between the two of them. Who could break the other out of reality, startle them into joy at the end of the world. Tommy won points the most often - Gordon wore his emotions on his face and he was already so strung out from stress that the barest attempts at levity set him off laughing. Occasionally, though, Gordon caught Tommy off guard with his wit. His jokes were more orchestrated. Grandiose. Special presents just for Tommy.

One such occasion was after they’d broken into the locker room. After addressing the corpse by the benches, Gordon began rifling through his locker for his passport in a vain attempt to placate Benrey. Tommy watched him carefully as he entered such an enclosed space with the entity. Just in case he tried something. Gordon found his passport, but his attention snagged on a solitary picture frame in the corner.

“That’s my baby,” Gordon informed the team.

He had a baby? Tommy studied the photo with interest. He didn’t strike Tommy as a fatherly person, and the fact that he had a child complicated whether or not he was single. Of course, that wasn’t an automatic disqualifier -

“I have a son,” Gordon insisted, with emphasis.

Tommy belatedly realized that Gordon was staring straight at him as he pointed at the photo. He blinked. Okay, man. He got the hint. Gordon wasn’t on the market - wait.

That was a stock photo. He could see the watermark stamped across the image. Gordon’s stare was still locked onto Tommy, a barely contained smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“That’s Joshua,” he said.

Tommy had to duck into the adjacent room to laugh.

Damn, he was good. Tommy leaned one hand on the wall, holding the other against his ribs in a fit of giggles. Why did Gordon have that in there? Just for kicks? He distantly heard an  oblivious compliment Dr. Coomer launched in Gordon’s direction and a caustic insult from Benrey.

“What did you say about my boy?” Gordon demanded in mock outrage. “Did you call him shit?”

Tommy sagged against the wall, catching his breath. It took him a couple seconds to recover from that one. What a knockout.

---

It turns out Gordon Freeman’s sense of humor is difficult to nail when one is enduring an extraterrestrial apocalypse. Shambling forms accosted them on all sides, and while the party was able to more or less hold their own, the tension in the air was palpable. Each member of the team was paranoid for their own reasons, making their words sharper, their actions heavier.

Benrey had disappeared shortly after after the explosion in the bathroom, and Tommy could see him flickering on the edges of his vision every once in a while. Creep. He’d turn up eventually, on his own terms. Tommy had learned by now that there was no making the entity do what he didn’t want to do, but his presence nearby still made his skin crawl.

Dr. Coomer was on edge as he came face to face with his doppelgangers throughout the maze of carnage. Tommy had put together that this man was either a clone or a base for one, and it was becoming increasingly apparent as his speech grew more and more incomprehensible. Gordon thought he was having a stroke once. It was probably more accurate to say that he was having a breakdown on the DNA level.

Gordon and Bubby were the only two who seemed legitimately concerned about the aliens that were steadily pouring into the facility. Bubby was a surprisingly excellent shot with the revolver, and while Gordon wasn’t exactly a deadeye, he could at least swing that crowbar around with a decent amount of wallop. The adrenaline was running hot through all of them as they lay waste to the creatures in the facility. This was dangerous, and everyone was on edge.

As the situation grew bleaker, Tommy found himself cracking jokes reflexively, just as a nervous tic. He was used to having a pretty good grasp on reality - or, at least, on his definition of it - but the Resonance Cascade had dropped him in an inkwell and he could no longer tell which way was up. What parts of the impossible were planned? What parts of it could be stopped?

Most of his jokes were ignored by his nervous teammates. Understandable. When he dramatically bemoaned the loss of his tic tac drawer and the crucial calories they contained, he wasn’t even sure if he was being serious or not. They had seen so many people die in such a short amount of time. Watching the group’s brittle humanity crumbling apart at the loss of life was not making it any easier.

When the four of them witnessed a stranger plummet from a precarious catwalk to the void below, Gordon stood there, staring at the place he had disappeared from, for quite a long time. Tommy hung back as he always did, leaning his shoulder on the doorway. This poor mortal with a too-big heart. He was not going to be the same if he made it out of this ordeal alive.

“How deep is that hole?” he finally asked, either to find a sliver of hope that the man was still alive or some comfort that he had died quickly. “How deep is that hole?”

Beside him, Bubby folded his arms and blew out a breath. “Uh, I believe this hole has to be about five hundred feet deep,” he guessed.

Gordon’s face went worryingly blank as he processed this. Tommy watched him, feeling a twinge of sympathy tug at his stomach. There was no solace to be found in the catastrophe tearing through the facility, especially when the facility itself was grown from such rotten roots. Things were about to get far worse before they got better.

“We’re trying to dig to the center of the earth,” he told him wryly.

Gordon’s responding laugh was heartbreakingly sour.

They moved on, and Tommy was about to follow the group when Benrey materialized beside him. He only came up to Tommy’s shoulder where he stood next to him, but he still managed to pull off an intimidating leer.

“Dude, quit hitting on the new guy,” he said thinly. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Tommy paused. Slanted Benrey a stare that could cut glass. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he muttered.

“I’m not hitting on him,” the entity shot back. “I can’t stand him.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes. Sure.

“It’s not my fault he showed me his dick,” Benrey went on, crossing his arms. His voice was like a razor, and it set Tommy’s teeth on edge.

He drew in a long, slow breath through his nose. “Why,” he asked, “would you tell me that.”

Benrey grinned, sharklike, and shrugged innocently. “Just something to think about.”

He blinked out of existence, leaving Tommy there alone to frown at nothing. He scoffed. Asshole. No tact whatsoever.

The fact that the entity had his eye on Gordon, too, made him uneasy. Not enough that Tommy felt the need to interfere - anyone with half a brain cell would know not to trust Benrey and Tommy was certain that Gordon had at least two. But he could see him slowly chipping away at the new guy’s sanity, piece by teeth-grinding piece.

The being had no appreciation for subtlety; winking in and out of this plane, killing indiscriminately, parading around like an interdimensional peacock. Tommy watched it all with a growing sense of disdain. That kind of power was not something to be fucked around with, and that was all Benrey ever did.

Tommy and Benrey’s relationship was like a careful dance in a room full of knives, each step a decision that could help or hurt both of them. They shared a supernatural origin, but their similarities ended there. Tommy didn’t trust him one iota, and Benrey vacillated rapidly between being obsessed with Tommy and outright despising him.

He had to remind himself that while the entity rarely outright lied, his words were often so ridiculously, insufferably cryptic that he might as well have been dishonest. The piece of information he had just dropped could mean anything, deposited in such a way to needle against Tommy’s skin like sandpaper. This was how Benrey worked, feeding people bullshit just to get them riled. Tommy didn’t need to retaliate. Unlike Benrey, he was raised with some fucking manners.

He had no power over him as long as he didn’t let it get to him.

He wasn’t going to let it get to him.

Oh, who was he kidding? It got to him. Tommy made a mental note to let an industrial door slide shut on Benrey the next chance he got. What was it going to do, kill him?

Chapter 1 <-----> Chapter 3

[seanfalco]

Road Trip: Punk!AU

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Punk!Aevryn x Punk!Valdo, Punk!Jaskier x Reader, Punk!Geralt x Punk!Yennefer Word Count: 2645 Rating: T (swearing) Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @coffee-and-stories​ @nevadawolfe​ a/n:  Let’s get some healing started up in this angst.  As usual next update will be up to @ficsandcatsandficsandcats :3

{Part I}{Part II}{Part III}{Part IV}{Part V}

Part VII — It Was Not Your Fault, But Mine

Though Aevryn wanted nothing more than to rush to the hospital after them, she eventually gave in and let Valdo drive her back to the hotel he was staying at to freshen up; Yennefer’s voice of reason winning out.

“Aev, unexpected as this is coming from me, I think we should stay here for the night, just to let everyone calm down.  Besides, I’m sure you and Valdo have a lot to talk about.”  Aevryn opened her mouth to argue, but Yennefer was prepared and fixed her with her sternest look, placing her hands on her shoulders.  “We will meet back up with them.  Later.”

Slumping in defeat, knowing her friend had a good point, Aevryn nodded and let Yennefer pull her in for a hug as Valdo returned from the front desk, adjusting the pair of large sunglasses perched on his nose.

“Here is your room key, madame,” he said, holding out the plastic key card to Yennefer.

Extricating herself from Aev, Yen took the card, her face unreadable.  “You mean our room key?” she said, looping her arm around Aevryn’s shoulder, her gaze just daring him to complain.

Valdo’s eyebrows rose, his mouth working silently before he ground out, “If you think that’s for the best,” clearly trying to hold back what he wanted to say, knowing how crucial it was for his and Aev’s relationship to win over this woman’s approval.

“Let’s not be so hasty,” Aevryn exclaimed quickly, stepping out of Yennefer’s reach and glancing between her and Valdo.  “You said yourself we have a lot to talk about.  Which might take a while.”  She threw her friend a pointed look, and the emphasis she had put on ‘talk’ made it clear enough that she wasn’t going to sleep with him, tonight at least, but that she wanted to stay with him, and Yennefer could understand that.

“Fine,” she said, her dark eyes hardening when she turned them back on Valdo.  “No funny business.” 

Brushing her pointed finger out of his face, Valdo grimaced.  “Yes yes, alright.  Come on, Aev.”

Aevryn shot an apologetic smile over her shoulder at Yennefer as she slipped her hand in Valdo’s and followed him in the opposite direction.

——

Pulling his sunglasses off Aev winced at the dark mottled bruise that rimmed Valdo’s eye and spread over his cheekbone.  “Oh V, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, brushing her fingers lightly over his skin, careful not to put any pressure on his injuries.  “This is gunna be a bitch to cover for your promotional tour stuff.”

Valdo merely waved her concerns away, a small grin pulling at his lips at how she fussed over him.  “This makes us even now,” he said, sitting on the edge of the tub as Aevryn turned to wet a towel at the sink, frowning as she wrung the excess water out.

“What are you talking about?” she asked as she sat next to him, bringing the towel to his face to wipe at the dried blood at his brow.

“You don’t remember the punch you took for me once?”  As he spoke all trace of amusement melted from his expression.  Probably not the best idea to bring that up, Valdo realized, mentally kicking himself; as what had happened after that particular memory had changed Aevryn’s life forever.

Her hand paused and she swallowed, sea green eyes flicking away for a moment before a rueful smile ghosted over her lips, though her voice trembled slightly.

“Of course I remember.  I guess we are even now… so don’t you dare go getting punched again, you idiot.”

As always when she called him a name, there was a fondness behind her words, and Valdo snorted softly.

“Believe me, this is an experience I do not want to repeat.”

“Good.”

Aev continued cleaning his face; his soft gaze on her made it hard to breathe, let alone think, but there was something that had been bothering her since she’d heard it.  “Hey V, in the last song, that lyric when you said: ‘I never told you, I went to his house and I went to bat’... what were you talking about?”

“Ah, that.”  Taking her hand Valdo lowered it, holding it clasped between his in his lap.  “When you uhm, when you were in the hospital, I… I left while you were asleep.  I went to René’s and I beat the shit out of him with a baseball bat.”

Pausing to gauge her reaction, Valdo took a deep breath.  She didn’t seem distraught, in fact he couldn’t read what she was thinking at all, which was discomforting in its unusualness -- Aev always wore her emotions on her sleeve.

“Still didn’t feel like the punishment fit the crime though,” he muttered, looking down at her hand in his.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Valdo sighed, forcing himself to look her in the eye.  “I didn’t want you to have to think about… what had happened any more.  I just wanted for you to be able to move on.”

“Oh Valdo,” Aevryn murmured, reaching up with her free hand to stroke the side of his face, affection bubbling in her chest.  She knew it was probably wrong, but something about the thought of Valdo beating the shit out of her ex for… assaulting her, and getting away with it was darkly satisfying and she suddenly wanted so badly to kiss him.

The moment ended as Valdo stood, releasing her hand to shrug off his blazer and pull his blood stained shirt over his head, his mess of curls appearing moments later, and Aevryn couldn’t help but admire him, her eyes slipping down his slim frame.  

Valdo turned, catching her staring and grinned before striding away to rummage through his luggage for a fresh shirt.  

“Ah, ah, ah, no funny business, remember?” he chuckled, glancing at her over his shoulder as she rose to follow him, leaning against the door frame.  “I have a feeling Yennefer would know even from half a hotel away if I put hands on you,” Valdo joked.

“And what if I put hands on you?” Aev purred, wrapping her arms around him from behind; her fingers brushing lightly over his skin, sending a tremor through him and he froze, fighting the urge to turn and pick her up to toss on the bed.

Taking a deep breath as she pressed her forehead to his back, he wrapped his arms over hers and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and simply enjoying her embrace.  He could feel her sigh against him as well before she stepped back, letting him pull the shirt over his head.  

Turning, Valdo took her hand and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her with him.  “Look, I know there’s something you’re dying to ask me -- something you’ve wanted to ask since the day you left.  And I want to get this over with so we can move on.  So, ask me.”

Aev gaped at him, wondering how he knew, but when she tried to catch his eyes they flicked away, filled with shame and she sighed, biting her lip, not sure if she was ready to know.

“Why did you cheat, Valdo?” she asked, her voice a tremulous whisper, filled with all the heartbreak, all the pain that question had brought her over the years, and once it had left her lips it was like dam bursting.  “Why?  I know you loved me then and that’s what made it hurt all the worse.  So why?”

Again his gaze fell to her hand still clutched in his, like a lifeline.

“I’ve asked myself that same question so many times, and Aev, it took me a couple years of therapy to even fucking admit it to myself,” he murmured.  “You’re right.  I loved you.  I’ve always loved you.  I loved you so goddamned much it terrified me.  My whole fucking life I got whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it… except you.”

He looked up then, the pain in his emerald eyes was sincere.  “I didn’t feel worthy of you and I was terrified that I’d lose you sooner or later, and rather than keep waiting for that day, I sabotaged it myself.  I pushed you away when it was the last thing I ever wanted.  And I never want to put either of us through that again.  I’m so sorry.”

His last words were a broken whisper and Aevryn realized they both had tears running down their cheeks as she leaned in, her breath catching.

“Promise me,” she breathed.  “Promise me you’ll never intentionally hurt me like that again.”

There was no hesitation as he answered, closing the gap to her waiting lips.

“I promise.”

Never had a kiss tasted so sweet in her life as in that moment and Aevryn pulled him closer, her hands twisting and tangling in his curls until they were both on the bed, pressed together, legs tangled, barely parting to breathe.

Finally, panting, Valdo pulled back, pressing his forehead to Aev’s.  “As much as I would love to continue this to its logical destination, I think -- we should stop here -- for now.”

“What, are you afraid of Yennefer’s wrath?” she teased, shifting to her back and pulling Valdo with her til he was draped over her, nuzzled into the crook of her neck as she held him close.

“Oh I am deathly afraid of Yennefer’s wrath,” he answered.  “Besides, we have all the time in the world to get reacquainted,” he mused, brushing his lips against her jaw, “after we make things right with your friends.”

Aevryn sighed, the worry she’d held at bay rushing back to the forefront of her mind now that she’d managed to settle most of the things she’d wanted to with Valdo.  “You make a compelling argument,” she admitted, instinctively running her fingers through his thick curls -- an action she used to do to soothe herself long ago.  “Did you mean it when you said you would do anything for me?”

At her words Valdo pushed himself up so he could look her in the face, his expression achingly tender.

“Of course I did, love.  I will probably never be bosom friends with Jaskier, but I know he is… important to you and I promise I will do everything in my power to mend this rift and be civil in his presence, for you.”

“What if I fucked up and our friendship is broken beyond repair?” she whispered, her eyes seeking his for reassurance.

“Didn’t you think that we were broken beyond repair once?” he asked pointedly.

“Good point,” she replied, a bark of a laugh, thick with emotion breaking through.

“But hey, let’s save this worry for tomorrow at least?” Valdo murmured, stroking her face gently, his fingers brushing over her lips.  “You need a good night's rest, and I for one feel like I haven’t had one of those since, well, since the last night we spent together.”

——

Pacing her room, Yennefer picked up her phone and set it down several times.  Each time she thought about texting Geralt, she decided against it, the words never sounding good enough.  

“Ugh, I shouldn’t even be texting him these things.  This is an in-person type of conversation, and certainly not one to be having in the midst of this crisis,” she muttered, sitting down heavily on the plush bed; unconsciously running her hand over the silken sheets.  Of course Valdo fucking Marx would pick the ritziest hotel to stay at in Milwaukee.

Speaking of Valdo Marx, Yennefer wondered what he and Aevryn were talking about at that moment, or if her friend had succumbed to her baser instincts, as so often tended to happen when that curly haired bastard was involved.  

“They better be working shit out,” she growled, looking at her phone again before tossing it away and grabbing the tv remote for some sort of distraction.

—— 

“Jask,” you ventured, hesitantly placing your hand on his arm.

Surprisingly he stirred, pulling his face from the van window to look at you, his face haggard and eyes dark rimmed with sorrow.  

“Hey,” he croaked -- the first thing he’d said all night.  The sun was now high in the overcast sky.

“Hey,” you replied, smiling softly; your hand at his arm reaching to stroke the side of his face.  Instinctively he leaned into your touch, and your heart fluttered hopefully.  “Would you like to talk about it?” you asked, unsure if it would help at all, or if he’d even want to, but you needed to remind him that you were there for him.

He blinked several times, his stormy blue eyes wavering, fixing on something in the distance as the scenery flew by out the window.  “Talk about what?” he asked, his voice empty.

“Whatever you want,” you offered, taking his hand and squeezing it.  

“Hmm,” Jaskier grunted softly, a good impression of Geralt before falling back into silence.

“Why don’t you tell me about how you met Aev?” you said instead, trying a different tactic.

He opened his mouth before frowning, brows furrowing as if in recollection.  For a moment you didn’t think he was going to speak, but then he did.

“We were mates in high school,” he began, his expression brightening for a fraction of a second.  “Well, not until our last year.  We were made partners for a project,” he explained haltingly, as if the words were being dragged from him.

“It was something about medieval instruments, and she ended up buying this lute off ebay and I played it…” he trailed off, shaking his head slightly before his eyes darkened.  “She always was closer to Valdo than me, I should have known she’d go back to him, given the choice,” he muttered bitterly.  “She always said no one knew him like her.”

“Jaskier,” you murmured, brushing his hair from his eyes.  “Didn’t she grow up with him?”

He snorted again.  “...Yeah, but… I just don’t understand [Y/N].  How could she go back to him after how he treated her?  You never saw what it was like after they broke up.  I was there for her.  I helped her put herself back together again.”

You grimaced, this was having the opposite effect of what you wanted.  You were trying to calm him, not rile him up again.

“Jaskier, I know I can’t speak for her, and the fact that she kept this from you was not fair, and you are totally valid for being upset.  But perhaps there is more to it than you can see right now.  I think you need to have an open honest conversation with her and let her explain her side, because I have a feeling she didn’t do this to hurt you.  There must be more to this, especially if Yennefer was okay with it...”

A long sigh left Jaskier’s parted lips and he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands to his eyelids.  “...You’re right [Y/N],” he murmured finally.

“Hey,” your soft voice brought him out of his shell and he pulled his hands from his face to look up at you.  “Jaskier, you are an amazing friend, and anyone that cannot see that is a fool.  And I truly think that you’ll be able to work things out with Aevryn.”

He shrugged halfheartedly, but a small smile curved his lips.  “You really think so?”

“Of course I do!” you replied earnestly.  “And you are so loved.”  He let you pull him into a tight embrace, his arms snaking around your waist as he snuggled closer.

“I love you so much Jaskier,” you murmured against his unruly hair, sticking up in odd places after being curled up in the van for so long.  

“I love you too [Y/N],” he whispered back, squeezing you tighter.  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

I feel you with that “Joker killed a god” stuff, but what gets me as well is whenever I see those discussions over “strongest group btwn P3-P5” I’ll see some comments saying Futaba could hack into Aigis and defeat her that way. And idk... that always really bothered me. Sure P5 already treats Futaba like a hacking god, but could she really hack into Aigis? I personally don’t think so, and even if she could, I doubt it would be for very long. Unless Futaba really is just that good *rolls my eyes* but what do you think?

Welp this one is new for me ;w; Welp, I can add it to my list of other takes I don’t like when it comes to hypothetical fights (under the cut for length):

Joker killed a god (so much wrong there)

SEES has Aigis so they win (I’ll def talk about this one since it’s relevant)

PT are more physically capable/have had more training so they win (I’ll explain this one too) 

P1/2 can use real guns and Personas in the real world so they win (usually when P1/2 are in the mix, I do think they could have a surprise advantage, but its not like P3-5 can’t use Personas IRL....it’s just that they’ve never had a chance....also the gun thing.....which I’ll get to, also they forget Aigis/Naoto have real guns dfklsjafjal)

P5 kids can use guns so they win (it’s similar to Aigis I’ll get to it, also did we forget about Naoto and Aigis????? ksldjfa;kjdfa;jf also those aren’t real so they are SOL if they aren’t fighting in the Metaverse)

Now I can add “Futaba hack win” to this list DX

Never stating if we are doing it ala PQ style (aka we’re ripping people out of their main game timeline, aka teens vs teens), or if it’s Arena style (aka we’re doing it as a sequel and it’s adults vs teens),I mean their strength is different between PQ and Arena so it’s fair (plus Labby and/or Sho might choose to side/help on P4′s side which is also important), basically there needs to be some kind a rules/basis of P3/4 chars so we know what version to pit against the PT otherwise it’s anarchy and we’re getting nowhere

Not stating which terrain they are fighting on (it is kiiiiiinda important, hometeam advantage)

Assuming a certain terrain is an insta win for a certain group (reality/Tartarus is a bit more of a struggle without evokers but not impossible, also SEES is kinda honorable and wouldn’t like the disadvantage even if it was still doable without evokers....except maaaaybe if lives are on the line that is kfljsafdajf, TV world is the most neutral but it really depends if it’s Arena style or not cause that determines if there is fog or not)

For reference, personally I’d put it at P2IS/P2EP>P3/P4>P5, still working on where P1 goes tbh so there are def gonna be changes, same with PTS, P2 manga is probs gonna be with the other P2 cast. And this list is my personal opinion AT THE MOMENT (cause I just know Atlus is gonnna screw over P3/4 in Arena 3, either cause they need to weaken them with it not making sense or they are gonna nerf them cause they haven’t been active in a long while >.> which def shouldn’t have been the case after Arena or at least Ultimax but nope still tier 1 Personas 8U) regardless if it is PQ or Arena style. It’s mostly cause 1) fusion spells (P2/3/4 have them, even tho P4 doesn’t call it that, it operates EXACTLY like a fusion spell so I’m categorizing it as such) and 2) P4 kids.....are pretty strong to hold their own/beat people who have upgraded Personas.

.......sorry side tangent there’s gonna be like 1 or 2 more but they are in relation to the topic (and it’ll be at the end) falkdsjakfj. But yeah that’s BS. And def something Atlus would do except they forget that the teams have hard counters against that. >.>

(might change if I remember something but atm I’mma just say it) Iirc Futaba’s Persona doesn’t usually hack people, her only two hacks in battle are against her own mother (”hacking my cognition” my ass, you just imagined it there, how about you imagine your mom away???? oh wait that should’ve happened before the damn fight and thus us not needing a fight so stupid!) -ahem- and when we get a insta hold up (which is really just her blinding the damn enemy it’s nothing hacky about it....so stupid)

Aigis literally willed her way out of someone remote controlling her, not even hacking, like a literal remote designed to control her and kill SEES....and she broke free of it. 

Arena style wise, Fuuka was able to break Labby free of control too, tho that was non-hacking and against a weakened god (would not be surprised if she trained that to Rise, and/or because it’s Futaba and not a god, Rise could probably do it as well.....since Rise knows how she just wasn’t strong enough against Kagu...but Futaba isn’t Kagu 8U). 

If it’s non-Arena style, it’s possible that Fuuka (and by extension Rise) could be susceptible to someone interfering with their Navi-ing, as seen with Chidori messing with Fuuka (even after she’s evolved)......but only Chidori has shown to have that type of ability not Futaba (and Chidori isn’t even a hacker so “hacking” isn’t really what’s going on ksdajf;a). It’d probs only work pre Arena (cause Fuuka is supposedly super strong in Arena), but it’d require Atlus to create a damn ability for Futaba that doesn’t exist yet. Also iirc Chidori’s really was just used to mask her/team’s whereabouts and used to relay a message (not mine control Fuuka)

if Futaba HAD this type of power, A) P5 would be a walk in the park, B) she would’ve used it iirc

In case Sho/Labby are allowed, Labby was also able to break free of her own remote control in Ultimax (thanks to S!Labby)

Fun fact, not a point, but apparently Aigis can possible reach her sister’s but not if they are being mind controlled (or “hack” as she said in Arena). I dunno something to note kfsljda;jf

So like.....no......I don’t think she could “hack” them. Hell, I don’t even think Sho was hacking Labby, I think he just has a similar remote control that his dado had (which he probs got what he needed from hacking the Kirijou/or his dad giving him info....need to replay Ultimax a bit tbh, but low key I think they just like using the word “hacking” fksdlajaj;fdjfkd), and Futaba would need to do that prior to the fight. And that’s not even counting that it’ll actually work (because of reasons listed above).

Now for the side tangent, it’s funny people think her hacking Aigis means insta win (or that Aigis is an insta win), and that the “PT are better cause they trained and are more physically fit plus they have the outfits that help them” and like no????? P3/4 (freaking they train too sakdljfa;jf what the hell?) but they also have crazy physical abilities. You think Chie can just punt a giant robot and not have her leg broken? Or Mitsuru can crotch shot a shadow with her boots and walk away fine? Like an 80 ft robot is a normal enemy for the IT, both SEES and IT are taking face shots from TANKS on a daily! Why else do you think SEES/IT can survive Takaya/Adachi’s bullets (or Jin’s bombs)? It’s because of their Personas that ANY team can survive being set on fire or electrocuted! XU The PT’s outfits are just a physical representation of their status as Persona users in the Metaverse tbh, it’s a cosmetic symbolism, doesn’t mean SEES/IT don’t have it too (and they should if they go into the Metaverse).

So yeah Aigis, or even guns, aren’t a deciding factor, esp when SEES/IT are shown to be able to handle/beat Aigis/Labby just fine klfjsdajfa Hell iirc they HAVE to beat (at least Shadow) Labby to even continue the series sdkaflajfja And she was tortured to be a literal fighting Machine! 

So yeah, hacking isn’t an isnta win (also forgetting Fuuka is a hacker too fkdasjfl;), Aigis/Labby isn’t an insta win, guns aren’t an insta win. 

“But Shinji died from a bullet” but Shinji nothing. 1) He didn’t have any armor on, and most IMPORTNATLY 2) He was willing to die, and considering P3 really puts an emphasis on will to live being a crucial part to summoning a Persona......and thus him not having his Persona activated at all made him not get the nice Persona perk that we usually have. 

But will Atlus do it despite it not making sense? Probably! Cause the PT are oh so special! uwu Even tho they’ve yet to prove themselves in being better than at least SEES/IT, let alone P1/2 cast. .....stupid temp buffs..... >.> can’t do anything without your stupid deus ex machina temp buffs can you Joker? Tbh, other Persona chars beating “Full Cognition Joker” would be the most Persona thing out there, so I don’t even think FC!Joker would win (not that there’s really a good organic way for him to get that back). “Full cognition Joker is like god level!” oh didja hear what other Persona chars like to do to these so called “gods”? 8U

[spoonssporksandknives]

ableism in media: Star Wars

I’m picking on my favest of fave fandoms today y’all: Star Wars. Yes, you actually can enjoy a Thing while acknowledging that said Thing has problematic elements. I LOVE Star Wars, but it’s incredibly guilty of having people who look disabled as their visual shorthand for evil. I’m going to use examples under the cut, but before I do, I’ll say this. It’s okay for ableds to reblog this (please do in fact) but only if you’re actually going to engage in respectful discourse. Racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, fatphobia and other related hot takes can jog on. 

Also also: Star Wars abbreviations and their main characters for the more casual fan: OT = Original Trilogy (Luke, Leia, Han); PT= Prequel Trilogy (Anakin, Padme, Obi-Wan); (Sequel Trilogy = Rey, Finn, Poe)

Now, back to our regularly scheduled light reading: ableism in Star Wars.

For our visually impaired readers, the top image shows Anakin Skywalker’s first prosthetic hand from AotC, with the caption, “A mechno hand replaces Anakin’s after he is maimed by Count Dooku. As a result of his impetuous passions, Anakin has begun to lose his humanity.”

The second image is of Anakin’s hand in RotS, with the caption, “Some Jedi Council members believe that when Anakin lost his right arm to Count Dooku, he lost some of his humanity.”

Because losing a limb makes you lose humanity, amirite guys? And they even did it twice: the top image is from the AOTC Visual Dictionary and the latter is from the ROTS Visual Dictionary. 

It’s in the sequels too, because nothing is more evil than being old AND disabled: (image of Snoke on his throne)

And I know that in a visual medium you need some sort of visual indicators of evil, but using disability as code for evil is all kinds of Not Okay. And let’s not forget that Vader was a huge walking symbol of that in the OT.

However, Star Wars has not limited itself to obviously disabled characters. There are no explicitly coded invisible illness characters (unless we’re counting Vader’s breathing but considering he walks around in a giant space iron lung i think we can say that even that is a visual disability) - there are characters who definitely display characteristics of invisible disabilities. And I’m going to start with the ST’s most overtly coded as mentally ill character. That’s right, it’s ya boi Kylo Ren!

(image: Kylo Ren walking shirtless, in high waisted pants)

(I was originally going to put in a gif of him having a meltdown and destroying a console but I couldn’t find one easily but him shirtless was easy peasy. Go figure.)

Kylo Ren has been a very divisive figure in the fandom - much like Anakin in the PT, and for similar reasons. Public opinion has softened much on the PT but at the time of its release people hated heavily on the things that were coded as mentally ill in Anakin as well - outbursts, whining (is it really whining if you’re worried about your mum dying??), tears, anything not reeking of machismo, basically. Now, there are parts of fandom that have gone out of their way to point out the ways in which Kylo displays tendencies that could be read as autistic/neurodivergent, borderline personality disorder (BPD), or even dissociative identity disorder (DID). Much of the hate that Kylo receives is quite ableist in nature. However, he’s not the only ST character to display mental illness and receive hate for it. 

Let’s talk about our reformed Stormtrooper and hero of the ST: Finn. One of the first major scenes involving Finn shows him having a panic attack on the field (and then later after his conversation with Phasma). Finn clearly has PTSD, or maybe C-PTSD - I’m a lay reader and not a psychologist here, on one hand, and on the other, I legit have PTSD and find Finn very relatable.

(image of Finn in his Stormtrooper armor, mask streaked with blood)

And one of the things that disturbs me most about fandom and its tendencies toward purity culture is the fact that many of us who have invisible - and in particular mental illnesses - do in fact enjoy seeing characters who are coded like us surviving, thriving, and yes, still being disabled. Finn has overcome a great deal to get to where he is in the story. Let Finn be happy. Hell, let’s let Kylo live and be happy too. (I know he’s the villain but can we not kill off the obviously abused character?) Dark Side characters often have some sort of trauma and again, it’s the conflation of evil and disability that disturbs me deeply.

And while I’m on the subject - can we talk about the inherent colorism involved in the Dark Side? Color coding evil as darkness continues to perpetuate colorism. I know it’s used because people are afraid of the dark, but in this day and age it’s naive to think that this bit has no psychological effect on the public at all. The choice of Finn as hero is wonderful and it disappoints me greatly that the hints of his Force sensitivity have not been followed up on as of yet. *has a small amount of hope that maybe JJ will do right by our Finn*

Now, there’s a lot that’s problematic about Star Wars’s Force philosophy, and I’m aware that I very much see this as a religious minority, but the Force takes a great deal from eastern religions and philosophies but then turns around and overlays it with some very US Christian light/dark and good/bad duality in a way that is nonsensical to anyone with a background and understanding of the original philosophies. I have an entire tag on my main blog about this, entitled Paganism and the Force. (For the curious, I made this blog because the main is mostly star wars gifs and baby animal videos. I didn’t want people to wade through it for serious stuff, but if that’s your thing have at it) I may cross post or add on to the series here as well. For now, I’m going to leave you with a quote from another writer, who has reached a similar conclusion:

“… it may be countered that the Sith are worse than the Jedi because they commit a number of obscene acts throughout the films, most prominently the use of the Death Star to destroy planets during the Galactic Civil War in Episode IV. Two points in response to this. First, it effectively amounts to a “what-abouttery” argument; an informal fallacy. The Jedi are moral degenerates regardless of what the Sith do or do not do.

Finally, it may be countered that the Jedi only use the light side of the force, and therefore are good, whereas the Sith only use the dark side of the force, and therefore are bad. This is an argument not of reality but of word connotations. Simply put, there is no logical reason to hold that “light” equates to goodness and “dark” equates to badness (emphasis mine). Crucially, both light and dark are equal sides of the Force; they have to exist, as is often said in the films, in a “balance.” Pretending that one side of the Force doesn’t exist isn’t going to make it go away (as much as the Jedi seem to wish this).”

--  Matthew Berto, 'Star Wars': The Sith are the Good Guys and the Jedi are the Bad Guys

War is messy, y’all. Atrocities are committed on both sides and while we might all like a clean cut narrative where the Rebels/Resistance do no wrong, it’s disingenuous and unrealistic to think that this is true. That’s not how war works. The prequels are proof enough that the Republic wasn’t perfect or glorious and considering the current political climate, I wish some people would break out the films again and watch them carefully. Palpatine took it over from within because it was already corrupt. If I lived in the GFFA I’d side eye anyone who wanted to make the Republic great again.

Now, though I have said it before, I’m going to say it again: you can enjoy a thing and still critique it without demonizing it. Love Star Wars all you want (I sure do, got my TRoS tickets for opening night the day they were made available), but maybe, just maybe if the public and the filmmakers could refrain from immediately conflating darkness and disability with evil, that would be great.