#ch7 is why i started this project

[salemlinnet]

look.

700 followers and johnny gets tied up in a tent.

this is the first time i've been this impatient for any of the milestones. i'm always stoked but it's like "take your time guys i have 60 simon rileys in the same outfit to draw" this time i'm straight up just.

please, jesus, please give me the excuse to draw this. please i wanna draw this so bad, please i hope it moves up my priority list faster.

[exhaslo]

Puzzle Pieces Ch13

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex, praise

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The only thing that you swore you could hear was the sound of your own pounding heart beat. Your body was still slump against the beg, legs too weak to move. Tears were still rolling down your cheeks as your mother's voice echoed inside your head.

"I-I need...I n-need to..." The words kept getting caught in your throat.

Reaching for your phone again, you quickly texted Miguel. You needed to inform him about your parent's plan. It was unfair. How could they decide something for you? You had specifically told them that you needed to get away from Eddie.

Perhaps you should have told them the reason, but would that have made a difference? Recalling the many times your parents ignored the bruises you had or the many hospital visits, you knew that this was nothing new.

Upon hearing your phone buzz, you quickly picked it up.

'Sorry, baby, I'm in a very important meeting. Can't talk right now, but Lyla will be there soon.'

It was just a text message. You replied with a simple, 'okay', and sunk back into the bed. Miguel was a busy man. You didn't want to distract or interrupt his important work. You would just have to wait until he got back to tell him the horrible news.

----------

It took about an hour, but you were finally ready to hang out with Lyla for the day. Mentally, you were not ready, but you had to be. It would be best to distract yourself. You couldn't let your parents or Eddie ruin your life anymore.

"Helloooooooooooooo~" Lyla cheered as she twirled inside the penthouse. You jumped, pinching your sleeves,

"H-Hello. L-Lyla?" You questioned. Lyla gasped at the sight of you,

"Oh! You must be (Y/N)! You are cuter in person! No wonder Miguel is head over heels for you!" She chirped, wrapping her arm around yours, "Today is going to be so much fun! I hope you're ready to have a girl's day! Jessica!"

"I'm here, I'm here." Jessica said with a heavy sigh.

You felt a little overwhelmed the moment you heard another voice, but immediately recognized the other woman. You glanced at Lyla, then towards Jessica in awe. Miguel really was watching over you while you were working.

You ended up smiling to yourself as you easily followed the two women downstairs. They were happily enjoying their conversation with each other. You wanted to chip in, but were too shy to say anything. They were still strangers to you.

"Alright, so (Y/N), where do you want to start?" Lyla asked as they approached a car similar to Miguel's.

"U-Uh, I...W-What does...What does Miguel...l-like?" You whispered as you gripped your sleeves. Jessica raised her head, her jaw agape,

"I wasn't told we were shopping for Miguel."

"Ohhhh, neither was I! This is going to be even better!" Lyla laughed and pulled out her phone, "You are so cute, (Y/N), I know just where to go~"

-----------

Miguel felt a shiver run down his spine. He glanced up towards the lab's air conditioning, wondering if it was blasting higher than normal. Wanting to shake the feeling off, Miguel continued his walk around the lab, listening to one of his scientists give an explanation of their yearly findings.

"Sir, with your permission, there is a project that some of the men would like to conduct downstairs in lab number four." The scientist spoke up. Miguel lazily glanced in his direction,

"What project?"

"It appears that there is a new drug on the streets that is causing a-"

"No." Miguel yelled loudly, "Do you have any idea what could happen if anyone finds that drug here? Whom ever is the source of importing that cursed drug will not use Alchemax as a scrape goat."

"I understand that, sir, which is why we created a safe way for no one to find out. We want to break down the drug and see what is causing such an effect in humans." The scientist begged. Miguel gave one more glare towards his scientist,

"That drug will not enter this building. The only way you can get that accursed item in these labs is if the CDC contacts us personally. Understood?" Miguel hissed, his glare more menacing than ever.

"Y-Yes, sir!"

Miguel scoffed before making his way out of the lab. Normally, he'd behave himself a little better in front of anyone outside his mafia, but not for this. That drug was going to be the death of him. Not only was it threatening his family, but now his job.

As Miguel walked around Alchemax, he kept an eye on his watch. Awaiting any news about either Eddie or this drug. Spotting a photo message, Miguel clicked on it and immediately grew flustered. He rushed into the closest private room and called Lyla.

"Yes~" Lyla cooed over the phone. Miguel nearly grinded his teeth,

"¡Me estás matando! (You're killing me!) You're supposed to be helping (Y/N) with shopping, not sex toy hunting!" Miguel spat. Lyla just laughed over the phone,

"I told you he'd love it~"

"A-Are y-you sure? I-I um..."

"Dios mio (My god), put (Y/N) on the line."

"H-Hello, Miguel," You hummed happily. Miguel smiled towards the sound of your voice before noticing his erection,

"Baby, you know you don't have to listen to all of their suggestions. Just pick whatever you like out and I will love it. Honest," Miguel said sweetly before locking himself in the room.

"A-Are you s-sure?"

"Yes."

"O-Okay...Um, M-Miguel...L-Later...I...I h-have s-something important t-to tell you."

Miguel furrowed his brows by the sound of your voice. You were trying your best to not stutter as much, but Miguel knew that something was wrong.

"(Y/N), what's wrong? It doesn't have to wait until later if it's hurting you now."

"..."

"(Y/N)?"

"M-My...My parents...called me....and..." You were whispering with a shaky breathe, "T-They engaged me...w-with...w-with my...my...ex!"

Miguel nearly crushed his phone as you sobbed over the phone. His blood began to boil as he stood from his seat. Approaching the window in the private room, Miguel glared down at the city below his feet.

"Don't worry, (Y/N), everything will be okay. I'll take care of you."

"M-Miggy," You sobbed quietly as Lyla and Jessica comforted you, "C-Can I...Can I move in?"

"Of course." Miguel whispered, "Baby, I have something I need to do now. Have Lyla and Jessica take you by your apartment to start moving your stuff. Okay?"

"O-Okay."

Once you hung up, Miguel let out an angry yell. He proceeded to slam his fists into the nearest table, destroying it with ease. Once he was calm enough, Miguel reached for his phone again and decided to make a few calls.

----------

You felt horrible. You were having such a good time with Lyla and Jessica and you ended up a crying mess. Luckily, you were able to squeeze out that you were not crying because of them. God, that would make you feel worse.

"Is this where you live?" Jessica questioned as they arrived in a shitty neighborhood, "This is Kraven's territory."

"Was," Lyla whispered. You rubbed your eyes as you looked for your building,

"What...do y-you mean by that?" You asked. Jessica sighed softly since Miguel had not told you anything yet,

"This area belonged to a former mafia family, but...They were taken over so now it's safe here." She explained. Lyla pitched in,

"Taking a while to get repairs done though. The permits from the city sure do take a minute,"

"Ah,"

You just agreed, slowly processing what they said. Once you were at your building, the two women followed you in. You offered your couch to Jessica, not wanting the pregnant women to move around too much.

Looking for your suitcase, both you and Lyla started to pack some of your stuff. Lyla reassured you that she could get a moving truck by tomorrow for some of your bigger things if you truly wanted to keep them.

"T-Thank you both...s-so much for t-today and...everything," You whispered and glanced over at Jessica, "A-And t-thank you...for...for watching me...at...at work."

"Heh, no problem girl. When Miguel cares for someone, he will make sure that you are always cared for."

You smiled brightly as you thanked the two once more. Right as you were going to bring down your bags, Lyla had the driver come and help. You offered everyone a quick drink before grabbing some of your stuffed animals and returning to the car.

"Can I just say, I was so surprised Miguel's place was covered in these little guys. You sure work wonders." Lyla chuckled. You covered your face, feeling embarassed,

"M-Miguel j-just kept buying them...H-He said he doesn't mind."

"Amazing. Anyway, why don't we take this Christmas shopping more seriously. Let's go find a gift for Miguel." Jessica said with a grin.

---------

Eddie inhaled deeply as he watched you leave with the other two women. He threw his cigarettes' on the floor and exhaled. A large puff of smoke floating into the air as he snarled. At least now he finally found where you lived, but-

"That had to be her the other day." Eddie spat.

Frustrated that his former toy had found a new man to fuck, Eddie cussed and yelled. He kept his glare towards your building, knowing that eventually you had to come back. You were going to be his again. Eddie was a forgiving guy.

He could forgive you.

After a little lesson, of course.

Walking down the street, Eddie saw some homeless people cozying up by a trash fire. Approaching the small crowd, Eddie grinned from ear to ear as he took out a decent size bag of his new drug.

"Hey, fellas. Got a job for ya." Eddie offered.

Once a deal was struck, Eddie decided to head back to his base of operations. He needed to get things moving with his drug if he wanted to take over the city. As he walked down the snow covered streets, Eddie felt his phone go off.

"What's new?" Eddie answered before slowly coming to a stop, "Whoa, what do you mean you were bought out?! You're the owner! You can say no-"

Feeling as if he was being watched, Eddie hurried down the street. He cussed as he kept his conversation with the person on the other line. After a while, Eddie found a quiet and remote spot where those eyes disappeared.

"We had a deal. How are we supposed to distribute our drug across the city now?" Eddie hissed.

'We can still use the girl'

"Fuck it. We can still use (Y/N). Little slut can wiggle her way onto the other mafia leader laps to spread the drug. Tsk, and we wanted this to be easy," Eddie whispered to himself since he had hung up a while ago.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Eddie reached for a different looking cigarette. He lit it up and inhaled deeply before continuing to walk around the city.

"We can still use, (Y/N). We...can still use her."

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next chapter

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

[leonawriter]

Project Moon Fanworks (+meta)

Like with my other fanworks directories, this is made with the intent of updating it with new works, but this may not always happen.

I do NOT consent to ANY of my works - written or drawn/painted - being used for generative training.

Any works I add for Limbus Company have the underlying (explicit or implied) fact that I'm running with the "Dante is Ayin" theory. You do not have to agree with me. I'm going to write it this way anyway.

In terms of ships, my priorities are thus: 1st: Chesed/Ayin/Hokma, Netzach/Yesod 2nd: Netzach/Chesed, Malkuth/Hod, Gebura/Binah 3rd: (as in, I see the vision and I won't mind playing with it or reading it) Netzach/Ayin, Yesod/Malkuth

Limbus ships are low priority, but I'm drawn to Heathcliff/Ishmael, Rodya/Gregor, and Yi Sang/Faust so far.

Sapling of Light stories

Sentinel of Timepieces

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There is Nothing In Her Eyes - Character study of Ayin regarding Angela in building her, and then from that point on.

Lament

A series of fics that are mostly set mid-Ruina, and focus on the fact that the former Sephirot, now Patron Librarians, would have been able to work through their issues with Ayin - only for him to be taken from them not long after. Grief, mourning, and all of the complicated stuff that comes with it.

Ch5 art (Ayin with Lisa and Enoch)

Ch6 art (Ayin with Apocalypse Bird in the background)

Ch7 art (Ayin, Daniel, and coffee)

Ch8 art (Ayin casting shadows)

Ch9 art (Ayin and the seedling) -alt ch9 art, with Ayin and Ben

Ch10 art (The Book of Ayin)

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You Can Take the Sephirot Out of the City, But You Can't Take the City Out of the Sephirot - A FFXIV crossover. Ayin as the (semi-reluctant) Warrior of Light. Zayin Tethla AU tag

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Nor Gloom of Night Shall Stay This Sentinel (and art) - AKA the Boxma AU, where Hokma manages to leave the Library and insert himself, in box form, into the LCB division.

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Better Late Than Never - Floating/unknown timeline post-Ruina/Limbus fic where Ayin comes back to the Library. Sappy hokmayin. Now with art.

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Painting In The Blanks - Hokma comes across Tiphereth painting them all (even those not present) as kiwis. Now with art.

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Like A Moth to the Sparkling Champagne - Netzach confesses he's got a crush on Ayin. Alcohol is involved. Also has art.

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Tangles and Ties - Yesod awkwardly grows closer to Netzach. Involving hair, paint, and new beginnings.

-

Art (General)

Ayin and a few of the others as mice.

Ayin (pen sketch)

Ayin from behind, in the light

Dante :>

Punishing Bird (pecks you)

Dante in Ayin's lab coat, in a LobCorp hall.

Chesed [box form]

Chesed [box form] and a nugget

Angela between LobCorp and Ruina

Chesed [Librarian]

[Picks up Dante] I just think they're neat

Hokma misses Ayin, so he made him into a cookie

Bunny Ayin -> On Netzach's floor -> On Hod's floor

Ayin [doodle]

Ayin/Manager sitting on the table in front of the monitors

Tiphereth holding Ayin (from @strangefellows' fic "The End of the Beginning")

Aftermath of a Silent Orchestra Breach

Malkuth Librarian [sketch]

Netzach if he were a sitting plushie

Dante and Chesed [mild Canto 8 spoilers]

Ayin doodle

Meta/Analysis

"Would things have gone better if Angela could have been nicer from the start? - no."

It's Called The Knowing I For A Reason

"No one really wants to die, man. They all seem to regret it moments before death."

On A(yin) and Unreliable Narration - or, “Did They Hate Him, Really?”, the Story of a Depressed Man

Roland talks about love with Netzach. Call forward to Hokma.

Ayin, Carmen, and the Circles of Hell Project Moon’s Works <-Why it makes no sense if Dante's pre-amnesia self is just a fanboy of Ayin.

What we know about Carmen.

Carmen and Ayin are basically opposites.

Angela, Faith, and... a Broken Family

Chesed calls Ayin "Mister Passionate"

Emanations - Or, He's Just Like Me, For Real?

The Sephirot knew about the cognition filter ->the cognition filter being a PTSD trigger filter

Netzach and Yesod, Those Two Guys

On Ayin's name, and also on the dangers of keeping it (C8 spoilers in the references)

Reasons why Ayin made the Sephirot into boxes

[quillthrillswriting]

the teenager in the iceberg- ch7 sneak-peek!!!

“Psht,” Aang rolled his eyes, sending a breeze to blow back Sokka’s sandy hair. “Katara’s a friend, Sokka. Dependable, just like Appa, or Momo.”

“Thanks.” Katara said flatly, pretending to suddenly be interested in observing the sand at her feet. Dependable. He sure did know what a girl wanted to hear.

“Hah, maybe you should go into the jewellery business, instead of doing your whole world-saving thing!” Sokka exclaimed from the water’s edge, seemingly unaware of the tension that had been crackling between the two benders only moments before. 

 “I don’t see why I can’t do both!” Aang ambled over to him, leaving Katara thoroughly confused and more than a little hurt. “I would say that you should start a business too, but it looks like you don’t have too much of a chance of breaking into the fishing industry.”

“Mmm, care to help? I don’t see you doing much more than watching from the sidelines.” Sokka shot him with the daggers in his eyes.

“A vegetarian fisher?” Aang raised an eyebrow, but walked into the water alongside Sokka regardless.

“Maybe you can do the bookkeeping for the business. I think you have the potential to have a real head for numbers.” The fish shot up beside Sokka, splashing teasingly, and Sokka lunged, only to come up with empty hands yet again.

Aang doubled over, weak with laughter, which was made worse when the fish came up yet again, just to splash Sokka with a small wave of water. “I think to have a bookkeeper, you need to be able to catch fish to sell,” he managed through his chuckling.

“Yeah, alright, Air-Boy.” Sokka fixed him with another glare, and before Aang could dart out of the water, Sokka tackled him, managing to submerge him for only a couple seconds before Aang erupted from the water in a burst of wind, using the waterbending he’d already learned to combat Sokka’s overeager splashing. 

Katara giggled, settling back onto one of the larger rocks, but her smile faded as she watched the way Aang’s eyes shone in merriment, the way he grinned playfully. Katara’s a friend.

She couldn’t stop replaying the words over and over again, even as Sokka finally caught and roasted his fish, even as she and Aang foraged for the nuts and berries that would make up his dinner, even as she extinguished that night’s cooking fire.

Katara’s a friend.

She wasn’t sure if that was fully true. Not after the way she felt when she looked up at him, not after the way he’d jumped to protect her from Jet, not after the way her heart leapt into her throat at every accidental touch. 

Was this only friendship, to him?

She cast a sidelong glance to Aang, curled up with Momo under woven orange-and-yellow sleeping sheets. Moonlight danced across the planes of his cheekbones, his skin sparkling as if cast from mica. 

It was as if the moon spirits themselves were marking him as hers. 

Wordlessly, she leaned over him, quietly adjusting the branches to his right until the moon caught on the leaves above him, until his face was no longer illuminated. 

He wasn’t hers. She wasn’t sure why she had to keep reminding herself of that. 

♥ check out the six chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->

[sehtoast]

In The Kitchen? (Depowered Homelander x OC | Fluff Drabble) All of You is Left to Love Ch7

450 Words

Warnings: None that really matter lol

Summary: Breakfast fluff with a sprinkling of goofiness, no plot.

Chapter Directory Can Be Found Here

OC: Benjamin Colyer (The Boys-verse Spider-Man)

Ben woke early that day. 

He’d been gone so often between his duties as the new leader of The Seven and with patrolling the city that he’d started to feel he was neglecting Homelander.  So, he crawled out of bed bright and early to make them both a proper breakfast.

He pulled out all the stops.  Fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, toast, pancakes, an ice cold glass of milk for John– everything he could think of to put a smile on his lover’s face.

Benjamin thought he’d done a great job sneaking out of bed, but that never quite was the case with Homelander.  Despite the loss of his powers and rampant depressive episodes weighing him down, he never did lose that sensitivity to Ben’s physical absence.

He certainly didn’t hear John over the music from his phone competing with the sizzling of eggs.

His spider-sense wouldn’t alert him to Homelander’s presence in the kitchen.  Why would it?  He was no threat.  Never had been– not to Ben, at least. 

So, when arms wrapped around his waist, Ben jumped just slightly.  His surprised expression turned to one of joy, and he stroked along Homelander’s arm with one hand while he worked with the other.

“Morning, pumpkin.”  He greeted, turning his head to press a kiss into John’s overgrown hair.

“M’rnin’” Homelander groaned, sighing a heavy breath against the curve of Ben’s neck.

“Always notice when you leave…” 

“Sorry if I woke you up,” Ben ran the tips of his fingers over Homelander’s knuckles.  “Meant to have this be a breakfast in bed sort of deal.”

When Homelander released him and began to walk toward the table, Ben turned to watch him make his way over, huffing a laugh.

“Lemme finish up here.  Wait at the table?”  Ben smiled sympathetically. 

John had thrown on an oversized shirt– ordered online as Ben’s way of building him a new wardrobe, but arrived too large.  That in itself was no big deal, but the bare cheeks peeking out from under the seam were a wonderful surprise.  

“Johnny, are– are you shirt-cocking it in the kitchen?”  Ben giggled, a wide grin on his face.  

Homelander, too deep in his sleepy haze to care, simply plopped down in his seat and nodded, spreading his legs high and wide for Ben before sitting normally.

“Oh, brother…” Ben groaned, totally betrayed by his smile and humored tone.  

He continued working until the food was ready, and prepared each plate– setting fruit atop of John’s pancakes in the shape of a heart. 

Ben set each plate down, saving the pancakes for last.  

“Love you, babe.” Ben pressed a kiss to his forehead.  

“Love you more…”  John returned, despite his grogginess. 

[deludedfantasy]

Trimax Vol 4 Ch 5-7

My thoughts for the last half of this volume! I read part of this at like 1 am because I just couldn’t stop so if some of this is incoherent...that’s why.

Ch5

Wolfwood announcing the remaining Gung Ho Guns as if this is common information and something anyone should know if they weren’t part of the group…where’s that post about him being a bad liar. 

The problem with having a character that fights using music or a musical instrument is there’s no cool way to do it. I’m sorry, Midvalley is just over here playing careless whisper and the windows explode. It’s a look, but is it cool? Questionable.

Wait, I take it back? What the hell did he just do to Wolfwood??? Did he just make his brain bleed? Knock him out? Liquify his organs? What???

Oh no, Milly :(

Is she just scared or is someone using their powers to hold her back?

Vash said, “Fuck off with your coins. I’m not playing your games.”

Hoppred, I think you’re projecting a bit, because that is not the face of a man who is enjoying this fight, at all. 

The problem with having watched Tristamp first is I can’t remember who knows what at this point in the manga, and I forgot Meryl doesn’t know about Knives or that he’s Vash’s brother. Also, goddamn, Vash, you really need to tell your friends things because it is not fair for them to follow you blindly into your quest without even knowing who you’re going after. And then have the villains reveal your backstory to them! It’s a bad look, dude.

Ch6

Oooh, more Vash backstory, maybe? Always up for more Vash backstory. 

The fights with the Gung Ho Guns are getting more and more personal. First Leonof, and now Hoppred, who’s talking about revenge and July. This is going to be deliciously painful, I can tell.

Hoppred is crying from all of his eye holes??? Oh my god.

Oh, it takes much longer for Meryl (and the reader, to a certain extent) to learn Vash is an independent Plant here than in Tristamp. And it’s worse here in a way because Meryl finds out from an enemy, not from Vash directly. Not only is she in an already upsetting situation, but now someone is giving her information that explains so much about Vash and she can’t even say they’re lying to hurt her because it makes too much sense. 

It’s also interesting that, unlike in Tristamp, after the Big Fall, Vash stayed with Knives for years before striking out on his own and deciding to help humans. He must feel so complicit in humanity’s suffering because of that. 

Ah yeah, Meryl looks really scared and fucked up by this revelation.

Milly hears “black-suited moron” and immediately comes running. She’s like, “There’s only one person who that could be!”

Really not liking what Wolfwood’s saying here. It sounds like he’s about to go on a rampage. 

Uh-oh, is that Knives coming to join the party?

Ch7

Vash starting to remember July is so, so painful.

These panels where everything looks like eyes: the moon in the sky, the explosion of power in July, with Vash’s eye focused in the middle. It works really well as a transition for him remembering.

Seeing Vash calling himself a murderer, feeling like there’s no atonement or way for him to move forward, it feels so wrong. It hurts so badly whenever he starts to doubt his own beliefs and ideals. They make up so much of his life that it really underscores how much he hates himself and what he did. 

Flippant comments about knowing the angel of death and how they’re coming for him—this man has a death wish unlike any other I’ve seen in fiction. 

But I do love when Vash lets the rage take over. Because despite his pacifism, he’s actually full of it! I’d actually argue his anger is what’s behind those ideals. His anger at Knives, at what he’s done, at the world, at himself, it feeds his want to do better. It makes it all the more poignant that he refuses to kill when he very much so wants to. 

He’s willing to tear Hoppred apart if he gets in his way. Anything that keeps him from getting his revenge on Knives, not only for the Big Fall and Rem, but for July and every terrible deed he’s done, there is enough anger in him that he would kill for that. 

Whether Wolfwood was trying to provoke Milly so he could knock her out or he’s actually serious about leaving Meryl behind, that’s a dick move. And I know he knows it, which makes it worse. The chorus of random bystanders is right, “Booooooo.”

They’re purposefully being drawn into some kind of trap and a new, not-before-seen Gung Ho Gun is on the scene. I’m scared. 

Oh, cliffhanger ending, wonderful. Even though I’ve already read this, I might start the next volume this weekend and read ahead a little because I cannot be left in suspense after all of this.

[echantedtoon]

Diamond In The Rough Ch7 Settling Down In Circhester P2

(Warning: Reader's hand gets burnt a little bit by hot chocolate and someone tries to take a swing at Gordie but no contact is made. Thank you to everyone who commented on what pokemon they wanted on where I post my stories. I was only able to pick three from what everyone commented and I did it at random. Here's the ones we'll get going along with the story. Scolipede, mightyena, and glacion. Know all I need is names and genders. Tell me which ones you prefer for which pokemon.)

Things were going well for you at this moment in time.

Your notes and books from Sonia arrived and you were able to work on that one report you'd surely have one problem with for later when the school year kicked back up in a few months. There was also talks of some other GIANT projects you worked on a little bit, you'd wouldn't have to worry about it knowing what they were about before hand. The only good thing you could say about her. There was two or three other big projects you'd have to worry about but you'd be able to take care of most of them by yourself in your spare time. By the time you got back from your weekend of taking care of your pokemon and doing that small project of yours, your job was still pretty busy. Except for Wednesday night, that night was really REALLY busy seeing as it WAS Circhester's Foundation Day. The whole town was filled with food vendors, people partying, noise, and lots and LOTS of people going in and out of the cafe for food and drinks and it was like a there was a monsoon of people spawning outside with out many times people went in and out cramming against the walls or even waiting in lines that went almost all the way to the door. Safe to say both yourself and Sapphire were BEAT rushing to grab napkins, shovel out drinks, rushed to ring out people, meanwhile in the back kitchen you could literally HEAR Bobby and Billy Bob shouting at one another over the noise of pots and pans and sizzling foods that they struggled to chuck out into your arms to serve to customers. At one point you had to stop to go do other things while Sapphire tried to handle the crowds while you were gone, fighting against the crowd to grab dishes and clean tables, going into the back to grab MORE to-go Styrofoam boxes and bags, more clean dishes from the dishwater, more food or drinks for shouting customers- Now you knew why the two chefs wanted to hire more help. Sheesh. At least most of the orders were to go anyways so you all could just give someone their food and they'd leave only to let another person take their place. Sigh. But...GOOD NEWS!! Luckily it seemed things were starting to wind down because while it was still crowded and tiring, there was starting to get less people now. Bad news....It was already after closing time. Bob's Your Uncle closed at five pm. It was already midnight now and it doesn't look like anything would be dying down soon. You were starting to get tired and your feet were starting to be sore and your stomach growled from not being able to eat for a while. Sigh. Oh well. At least the tips were plentiful. You had just handed a woman a styrofoam box with a curry inside it and waited for her to move before groaning and stretching your back with a pop. By now it had gotten dark, late, and loud bangs were coming from outside. Fireworks most likely. It would be super cold by the time you got back, you just hoped that none of your pokemon would cause any trouble while you were gone. Meanwhile a middle aged woman who looked like she had seen a make up tutorial 'not for beginners' and tried to do it herself only to end up looking like a clown, and a haircut that looked like a monkey cut for her walked up to your counter with a face looking like she was angry and just bitten a lemon right after. You of course smiled and was about to ask what she wanted when too brightly painted nails snapped at you making you full on stop. 

"Hey! Give me a hot chocolate! And make it snappy! I don't have time to deal with you today!"

That...certainly caught you off guard but you quickly forced a smile and exchanged a stunned look with Sapphire just for a moment before she was forced to tend to yet another customer walking up to her. With an inhale you turned to the coffee machine area behind you still forcing that smile.

"Would you like a size large, Ma-"

"OF COURSE I WANT A LARGE!!," her shrill voice shrieked at you like a broken record making you wince as it battered your eardrums, "When someone orders a hot chocolate of course they want it large with everything on it unless they say something else! Are you dense or something?!"

Sapphire gave another look as you had to will yourself not to crush the styrofoam cup in your grasp and to just make the darn hot chocolate. Just make it. JUST. MAKE. IT. And hand it to her so she'll go away and leave you alone. You know recognized this woman as someone every store owner feared. A Karen. Just give her the darn hot chocolate and get her out of here. So you got the large and HOT sugary drink full of more sugary whipped cream and marshmallows and just held it out for her with a forced smile.

"Here you go! That'll b-"

"IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!!" The cup was snatched from your hand so fast the contents from the cup rocked and some spilt from your hand. 

Immediately the hot liquid hitting your hand made you have a reaction.

"AH!!" It was like a mini volcano went off and spewed lava all over your hand, despite it only being maybe a small teaspoon's worth of hot coco, but it was still enough to make you cry out and pull your hand back to clutch it.

"Y/n!," Sapphire shouted and whirled back around to you when you shouted eyes wide. "Oh my gosh! Are you ok?!"

"My hand got burnt!," you shouted back hissing and then looking at your hand. A few trickles of liquid fell down your hand when you unfurled your fist, and stared in shock at the now lighter pink looking parts on your hand from where the liquid drink hit it and you gaped in shock....before it quickly got replaced with anger. "YOU LITTLE-" You had snapped your head up back to yell at the woman but she was gone. Replaced with yet another customer who looked annoyed at waiting for you but didn't say anything. "WHAT THE!?" You scanned the crowd of people for any signs of her. "Where'd that slimy weasel go!? She didn't even tip me!!"

"I don't know," Sapphire replied also looking around but stopped when realizing something. "...But she didn't pay either!"

True to her word the woman was gone as neither of you could see her through the still crowded place, making you even MORE mad. "RRR!! GREAT!! HOW COULD THIS NIGHT GET ANY WORSE!?"

"Wait...What's that sound?"

.....

......

Maybe you shouldn't have asked that-

You both looked towards the door in question as what sounded like a heavy rain came forward, and the door was pushed open to let the source of the noise come in. And both you and Sapphire's eyes POPPED open comedically as a HUGE tidal wave of people started walking in pushing the already big crowd like the last wave of a boss fight in a video game. You were half expecting boss music to start playing. As the crowd started rolling in you just stood there and stared clutching your still sore hand. It was like a sudden reality hit you. All the exhaustion from the last few hours just dealing with all the people annoyed without a break and without sleep, constantly on your feet and now your hand throbbed with some pain-...Well it hit you like another tidal wave with the arrival of so much more shouting and people grumbling for late night meals demanding to be made to help them combat the cold outside. Sapphire had an almost equally horrified look on her face before it deflated into tired defeat and she could only tiredly let go of you and turn her attention to the first person who annoyedly demanded she get him a black coffee that instant. Well sounds almost blurred together as you just started and felt something gather in your eyes.

"Y/n!" An almost angelic voice shouted out to you and you blinked looking up to the bulky figure who pushed his way through the crowd and was now leaning against the counter with his sunglasses off staring at you. "Hey. Are you alright? You're crying."

You were what-..

Instead of answering your good hand reached up to wipe at your face. Yes. The man who spoke to you, was in fact, Gordie the gym leader. Why was he here instead of tending to his party?...Well to answer that the party was dying down to be honest, it was late and since the fireworks were the man attraction thar was over with, about everyone was heading home now including him, but he wanted to stop by and see how his friend was doing (NOT because his heart was beating a mile a minute at the thought of you-) but he hadn't been expecting the giant crowd in here or the sight of you crying lightly. When he pushed his way to the front he was smiling expecting to see you there, but had been completely thrown for a loop when he caught the sight of your current state. Leaning with your back against the wall with slight bags under your eyes, hair frizzy, clutching your hand, and crying lightly. You had looked shocked when he had gotten your attention but had quickly wiped your eyes and forced a smile when you saw him. 

"H-Hey, Gordie. W-What's up?"

...He blinked. "What's up with me? What's up with you?" He asked gesturing to you. "You look a right wreck!"

"Well, working none stop all day and seven hours after you were supposed to go home will do that to you."

"Seven hours!? Why didn't your bosses close up shop by now!?" You were still working?? AT MIDNIGHT!? He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he asked at how stunned he was. 

"I don't know i-if they can."

"Why?"

In response your good hand gestured to the shouting people around you with a defeated look. "Too many people. We're already back up as it is!" You practically shouted back to him. "I can barely hear you right now."

At first Gordie gave a look of almost disbelief but then a calm face washed it away. Which was strange but at this point you were too tired to care. But you watched none the less as the Gym leader just calmly turned back to the crowd and stopping...taking a long, LONG moment at the people around him all. Before he proceeded to do something you all weren't expecting at all. He ever so slowly lifted a hand to his mouth to place two of his fingers to it. What was he doing- And then he proceeded to give THE. LOUDEST. WHISTLE!! You had ever heard in your life. It made you wince and sink into yourself closing one eye, but it seemed to work for everyone else too because immediately everyone talking or shouting, the closest ones to him even ducking and having their hands fly up to their ears. The dreaded sound only lasted for maybe five seconds, but it had an instant silence afterwards. Everyone staring in his direction or too busy rubbing their sore eardrums in the aftermath.

"ALRIGHT!!" A hand was thrown up and if Gordie didn't have everyone's attention before he sure did now. "PARTY'S OVER!! Everyone out!!" Immediately afterwards a murmur of complains and groans came from the crowd. You heard some 'ah man's and 'You gotta be kidding me!'s and one or two 'But I've been waiting here for hours's included at the end, but that only made the gym leader scowl deeper. "I SAID BUGGER OFF!! It's late enough! For Arceus's sake, it's the middle of the bloody night! Ya can make your own drinks at home! Anyone else already eatin' hurry up and pay your tabs!" 

More murmurs until one man in the front frowned and said, "I'm getting my coffee! I've been standing here for twenty minutes!" He snapped back to both you and Sapphire and shouted again. "Why don't I have it yet!?"

"Because they're overworked and there's too many people here that can't see it!," Gordie countered back giving this man a particular look. "If you're that desperate for it mate, make your own pot at home.''

"I said I want my coffee!! And I'm not leaving here until I have it!!", He shrieked into Gordie's face, and to the gym leader's credit he remained calm just looking at the slightly taller man.

"'Lright, bud. Back it up." He held up his hands and started to herd the man back from the counter. "These girls are overworked and need some rest n' by the way yer actin' so do you. Go home." 

His response was to take an actual swing at the gym leader but what proceeded to happen next shocked you again. Gordie like an expect easily side stepped the clumsy swing and with his left hand grabbed the man's arm, yanking the man to hunch over before his right arm quickly darted over to hook around the guy's neck. And the end result was that the man yelled curse words at Gordie, now finding himself held in a headlock against Gordie's side flailing uselessly like a fish out of water. 

"Maybe ya didn't hear me clearly," he yelled louder than you had ever heard him yell before at the crowd. "I SAID EVERYONE GET OUT!!"

Everyone stood stunned for a moment but when the Gym leader started marching his way towards the door with the man still cussing him out and that seemed to motivate everyone else because they either stepped aside or began flocking to the door to get out of his way. Soon the large crowd started to file their way out one after the other and you could only stand there staring....before sliding down the wall until you sat upon the ground and gave a GIANT side of relief. It was as if a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Thank you Arceus. Arceus just THANK you for finally giving you a break. Sapphire practically collapsed against the counter with a half choke half dry chuckle looking like her body would fall over from being made of jello. After a moment the door opened again with a ding from the bell and this time he was...silent. His form paused and blinked for a moment not seeing Y/n anymore before he slowly walked up to the counter and peeked over blinking at your form just sitting tiredly on the floor.

"....Where's the owners?"

Sapphire pointed a thumb behind her where you could still faintly hear the sounds of pots and pans coming from the back kitchen. Gordie again didn't say anything after that but you were surprised to see him literally place one hand on the counter before jumping over it and you blinked when he just...waltzed on into there like he freaking owned the place. You silently sat there and listened. The pots and pans stopped. And there was silence again-

"WHY DIDN'T YOU CLOSE!?" 

Sapphire yelped nearly tripping over as you both stared wide eyed at the doors, an angry yell coming from behind the kitchen. If you both were surprised, you couldn't imagine how surprising it was to the chefs to see a Gym Leader just walk into their kitchen.

"I WALK ON IN HERE N' ALL I SEE IS AN OCEAN WORTH OF PEOPLE BACKED UP ALL THE WAY OUTSIDE!! AND THEN I FIND OUT YOUR SERVERS WERE OVERWORKIN' UNTIL MIDNIGHT!! ONE OF YOU BETTER GIVE ME A BLOODY RIGHT GOOD ANSWER TO THIS!!"

You...unfortunately could NOT make out what Bobby or Billy Bob were saying because it was muffled and not as loud as Gordie's yelling. But you made out a few snippets. "-e didn't mean..." and ''not fault..." and what you maaaayybe thought was ''-ard for us''.

"OH!! HARD FOR YOU!? THE ONE WHO'S SITTIN' IN A CHAIR IN FRONT OF A GRILL LEAVIN' JUST TWO PEOPLE TO DO EVERYTHING ELSE WITH ANGRY CUSTOMERS!!"

One of them said something that sounded like ''-n't mind-"

"THIS IS WHY CIRCHESTER HAS A LAW ABOUT WHAT TIME STORES CLOSE ON HOLIDAYS!! YOU TWO KNOWINGLY BROKEN THAT LAW AND AS A RESULT TWO PEOPLE SUFFERED!! YOU'RE BLOODY LUCKY IF I DON'T DRAG YA OUT AND SERVE YOU TO OFFICER JENNY ON YOUR OWN SILVER PLATTER!! NOW GET YOUR BUTTS INTO GEAR AND GET THIS PLACE CLEANED UP!! I WANT IT CLOSED DOWN!! RIGHT!! NOW!! AND IF I FIND OUT EITHER OF YOU TWO PULL SOMETHING LIKE THIS AGAIN, 'BOB'S YOUR UNCLE' WILL BECOME 'BOB WENT OUT OF BUSINESS'!!"

Both of you still stared wide eyed at the door...before footsteps approached and the door swung open letting Gordie out. The gym leader stood there for a moment silently before inhaling and giving out a sigh and holding out his hands. 

"Ladies! ...You officially have the REST of the week off. No need to thank me. Just grab your coats and head home."

You both remained quiet for a moment before Sapphire asked quietly, "Wat?"

"I said you both need to get out of here. Go on. Go HOME. Get some rest. Go to sleep. Get warm! All of that stuff! Take your pay for the night and vamoose."

"But...what about-"

"Those chefs seem pretty relaxed. I'm SURE they got plenty of energy to clean up their own mess."

"Oh thank you so much!," Sapphire all but practically sobbed and wobble-walked herself on tired legs away from the counter but you didn't have the energy to do so.

Gordie must've noticed because he squatted down next to your exhausted form and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Hey. Are you alright there?"

Tiredly you nodded quietly. "I just wanna go home."

"Yeah..Alright. C'mon," he said as you felt an arm start to pry you away from the wall, "Let's get ya on your feet and get you home."

You were pushed up onto shaking feet and forced to walk on sore feet. It was a bit of a blur and you weren't sure how, but you managed to squeeze your coat on and found yourself tiredly trudging back through the snow and cold of Circhester at nearly one in the morning, until you kept stumbling from how slippery the ground was and how tired you were- Until on your third trip, you felt yourself become light as something just lifted you up and you found yourself staring face to face with Gordie carrying you bridal style through the snowflakes. 

"G-GORDIE!? PUT ME DOWN!!"

"Relax. Jeez, you're more hard headed than a diamond."

After maybe a minute, you were tired to fight and just allowed him to carry you all the way to your hotel room. Imagine your pokemon's surprise when you were carried all the way in by the gym leader and gently placed down on the bed in your room gently before giving a frown. 

"Hey...Are you alright?"

You tiredly nodded barely able to keep your eyes open now and reaching a hand up to your mouth as you yawned. "Ye-Yeah. I-I'll be...*yyyyaaaawwwnn* F-Fine. I just need to sleep...Thank you so much for the help."

He nodded with a concerned look. "'Course...Ya want me to stay with you or-"

You waved him off tiredly. "Honestly, no. I just wanna be left alone so I can sleep."

Again he nodded and stood back up. "Alright...It's late anyways. I should head back and make sure the crowd from the party's died down without any damages...Are ya sure you'll be alright?"

"Yeah...I'll be fine." 

"Right. ..Goodnight then. I-I'll see myself out. Get some rest. Ok?"

Well he left and the first thing you did was clonk out then and there on your bed. Completely passed out into possibly the deepest sleep you've ever had. In fact it was so deep, that you didn't even wake up until the next day around eleven in the morning. When you woke, you were still wearing your coat with your hair all frazzled and you found four faces looking at you. Silver looked concerned. Zen was giving you a puzzled look. Sparky was just floating around telling you that you had slept through your alarm and was late for work. And Cerberus was sitting with a pout on his face and his food bowl in his mouth. He let out a whine before just letting the bowl drop from his muzzle with a clatter and barked at you clearly hungry for food. 

"....Right. *yyyyaaaawwwwnn* 'M on it."

One shower and change of clothes later, you had fed the three pokemon and gave Sparky a battery to suck the life from as you just plopped yourself back on the bed. You were still tired and just wanted to sleep the rest of the day away if you could but you couldn't because just as you considered going back to sleep there was a loud knock at the door, which made you groan and drag yourself slowly from the bed. You slowly trudged towards the door and when you got close you noticed a delicious smell coming from the other side of the door. Room service?? But you hadn't ordered breakfast or lunch. Well you opened the door and was hit with the delicious smells of  ...bannanas?? And Hot chocolate? Well on the other side of the door was none other than Gordie, and in his hands was a small styrofoam box and cup containing said foods. He stood there but smiled when he saw you open the door.

"Hey, Y/n. Good mornin'!..Or should I say afternoon?"

"Gordie?," you asked blinking confused, "What are you doing here?"

"Well I just checked on Sapphire to make sure she was doing ok after last night-"

Oh right..That actually happened! "Is she alright!?"

"She's fine. Just tired and somewhat cranky. I just finished up evrything else so I wanted to drop by and make sure you were alright."

You gave another tiny yawn. "I'm fine thanks. Just a bit tired, but I feel a lot better now. But why do you have that?" You asked gesturing to the food.

"Oh! Well my Ma heard about what happened last night and she made ya this." He held out the food to you. "It's sweet tropical curry, and hot chocolate. Maybe a bit more on the junk food side o' the spectrum, but it's sure to make a good lunch on a cold day."

"Oh..How nice!" You smiled and stepped aside. "Come in."

"Huh? Oh thanks." He stepped right in and was greeted with your small herd. "Ah. I see that Houndoom of yours is lookin' better."

"Yeah. The food and exercise are really working wonders." You closed the door and walked on over to him taking the food. "Tell your mom thanks for the food. And I can't thank you enough for what you did for us last night. I swear I'd still be there working my feet off if you hadn't stepped in."

"Hey. No thanks needed. My ma would've done the same thing if no one had shut it down. There's a reason we have a law in Circhester that prevents stores from stayin' open late on any holidays. The crowds like to gather big and then it causes problems for the small businesses that can't handle the hoards of people! It happens every Halloween and Christmas! I can't believe they'd pull somethin' like that after that got some new help!...*sigh* Don't worry. I made sure to swing by earlier today and make sure they knew not ta do it again. I'm pretty sure they got my message good."

"I hope they don't fire me-"

"They won't," he stated bluntly looking at you, "If they do they know they'll be in BIG trouble, you on the other hand don't have to worry about a thing. You get to enjoy the rest of the week off so no worries."

"Ah. Well that's one good thing." It was then at that moment that your stomach growled and you let out an embarrassed chuckle. ''All this talk about the cafe is making me hungry. I wanna try this food out! Smells delicious." 

You smiled and held up the food and it was at THAT exact moment he froze. Eyes in full view of your hand and then his eyes widened- "What the- W-W-What happened to your bloody hand!?" He asked pointing to your hand and it was then you turned to the now MOSTLY faded light pink marks on your hands.

Aw crap. You forgot about that. "Oh yeah." You scowled at your hand for a moment. "Some old hag decided to spill her drink on me and burnt my hand a bit."

"SHE BURNT YOUR HAND!?"

"It's not too bad," you assured him as he no gained a panicked look, "It doesn't hurt anymore and it'll go away in a couple days. I'm more mad she didn't pay than anything else- Wha- HEY! GORDIE!!"

He didn't even bother to listen to the last part of your ranting before he literally but gently removed the food from your hands and quickly shoved it onto a small side table and you froze when he grabbed your hand. Blue eyes squinted from behind those sunglasses as his hands gently held yours to his face...and you blinked. F/c eyes watched as he gave a look to the back of your hand before gently turning it over to give a look over at the bottom of your palm. For someone who could throw out someone in a headlock his grip was..soft. Gentle even as he gazed across your hand for a moment. Seeming to examine each part of it like how a scientist would examine a new cell particle, until eventually he slowly turned it back over to where the light pink was the most...and he sighed.

"'S not serious. Thank Arceus," he mumbled in relief.

"I mean...Yeah. It was only a little bit. I'm still mad tho." He hummed again before one of his hands released yours and reached into his coat pocket to pull out a small toothpaste looking tube and held it out to you. "What's that?"

"Burn cream. I've noticed a while ago that a lot of my guests tend to get burnt by hot drinks, and being an older brother you kinda get used to three lil brothers always making messes and causin' trouble. You wouldn't believe the amount of times they spilt things all over me. Nowadays I always carry one or two of these on me in case anyone ever needs it."

"Oh I think I believe you." You could still clearly remember one of Gordie's brothers making Allister spill his own drink the year before. "But...thank you." With a soft smile that made him pink you happily took the small tube from him happily. "That's really kind of you. You've actually been really nice to be lately and a big help. I wish there was some way I could make it up to you-"

"A-Actually.." His face felt pink- No. RED as he gulped down the rock in his throat letting it travel to his stomach letting the heavy feeling sink in. Especially when you blinked back at him. "I-I was wonderin' i-if ya- W-Well- ONLY IF YOU WANNA 'COURSE!! Y-Y-YOU'RE TOTALLY FREE TO SAY NO!!" You blinked at his sudden increase in pitch as he wanted to suddenly punch himself in the face for that embarrassing moment. "I mean if you wanna-..I m-mean-...I-I remember when you came 'round with Piers a lil while back! W-W-When ya helped us o-out with those dynamaxed pokemon..I a-a-asked ya to dinner b-b-but understandably you were a b-bit busy at the moment. S-So..m-m-maybe i-if you only wanna that is...Maybe you'd l-like to ha-have that dinner...With me?"

You continued to silently stare at him. And he shrinked into his coat under the staring. HOLY ARCEUS HE MESSED THIS UP!! WHY'D HE EVEN DECIDE TO ASK AT THIS TIME!? He wanted to ask you last night so he went to see you but then the whole incident last night happened and he asked without thinking this through at all! OF COURSE YOU'D BE IN NO SHAPE TO SAY YES!! HOW COULD HE LET THAT FLY OVER HIS HEAD!? Granted he-...was kinda interested in this for a while. Dinner with Y/n he meant. Sure he showed some interest in other girls before but he never felt like-...THIS before. Not so...intrigued by your sudden boldness and bluntness and how pretty you were and how you didn't seem to give him special treatment and got through his thick skull and how nice you were and how you helped his slowly start to regain his family he missed so much and how much patience, care, understanding, and genuine emotion- OH ARCEUS HE WAS STILL STARING LIKE AN IDIOT!! He cursed himself eternally for going off on a puppycrush rant inside his head as he unknowingly stared at you still like an idiot making his face even REDDER in comparison to his pale white-blonde hair. You however took a LOT longer to process what he was asking you...and it seemed like everything about his behavior clicked now and your f/c eyes widened in realization. 

"...Gordie," you slowly asked making him flinch, "Just so we're clear. Are you...asking me out?"

OH SWEET ARCEUS HE WAS GONNA GET REJECTED SO FAST!! RIP RAIHAN!! HE'S ABOUT TO KNOW HOW HE FELT!! he only slowly gulped again. "Um....Y-Yeah?"

"Oh. Ok then! What time?"

RECORD SCRATCH-

His mind blanked for a moment. "......wot..."

"I said sure. When do you wanna go out?," you calmly responded with a smile. 

Again he could only stare. ".....Did you just say bloody YES to ME!?"

"Yes?," you slowly asked raising a brow. "Is that surprising?"

"W-WHY THO!?"

"Because you asked nicely? And you're really nice so why not? At least you're not being really pushy about it like Raihan was...I still need to talk to him about telling others about my business without asking." Gordie opened his mouth, closed it, and just had trouble processing this. "Are you ok there?"

"HOW ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS?!"

You gave him a deadpanned look now. "Gordie. I have dealt with being bowled over by Milo's wooloo, dropped from the sky into a corviknight's nest, falling out of a tree, living with THE worst mom ever, battling against two legendary pokemon TWICE, stopping powerful rich dudes who think they can just use said legendary pokemon to run rampant, getting hit in the head by a roof tile and ending up in the hospital, THE worst room mate to ever exist, almost getting my face getting bit off by a houndoom, and having Raihan and two hairdo weirdos flirt with me and genuinely make me uncomfortable!" Gordie stared. "I think being asked out by you is the least shocking thing I've ever had to deal with up to this point." You left out the magically transported into a video game world part out for obvious reasons.

He raised a hand and opened his mouth-...Before slowly lowering it. "Ah..Well when you put it that way..*cough cough*." He straightened back up. "So uh-...T-Tomorrow works for you?"

"Friday? Sounds great! Can't wait for my first date."

AGAIN RECORD SCRATCH-

"Hold up!...First date? As in-...Y-You never went out with someone before?!"

"No not really. But I'm sure it'll be fine with you..." You paused looking down. "Um..Gordie."

"Y-Yeah?"

"You're still holding my hand."

In an instant he looked down, saw his hand holding yours, freaked out, let go, and immediately began freaking out even more. "I-I-IM SO SORRY!! I DIDN'T REALIZE!! IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN I PROMISE!!" His face deepened a red the more you smiled at him.

"Hey it's ok."

"No it's not! I was h-holding your hand without permission and we haven't even had a proper date yet," he insisted before he again paused and then grabbed his hair. OI!! GORDIE YOU BLOOMING DUMMY!! "I-I-I HAVEN'T EVEN THOUGHT IT THROUGH THIS FAIR!!!" Before you could even say anything he held up his hands and backed away. "D-Don't worry! I'll have everything ready! Don't worry about it-" And then he quickly turned on his heel to zip out the door- Only to forget the door was closed and full on smack into the door with a loud thud. "OW!!" A hand grabbed his face. Mumbling curses to himself, he grabbed the doorknob throwing the door open before turning with a nervous smile and giving you his signature salute. "Don't worry 'bout anything! I'm fully in control! Just leave it all ta me!"

You only watched as he proceeded to trip over the doorframe on his way out leaving the door partially opened as you stood there blinking....before you again smiled and laughed his response. You weren't sure how this date was supposed to go but it would sure be-....

THIRD RECORD SCRATCH-

A date. You just agreed to have your first date with GORDIE in less than twenty four hours and you have absolutely no idea how a date was supposed to go.

"....SPARKY!! CALL SONIA!! I NEED ADVICE NOW!!!"

[anika-ann]

Love on the Brain - part 7

Ch7: To Have and to Hold

Type: MCU x Criminal Minds crossover series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 10150 😇

Summary:

The joined team made an important progress in the case, but still has a long way to go. Now it’s your turn. After all, your life depends on it.

Series masterlist

Warnings: series includes criminal behaviour such as stalking or kidnapping; graphic violence, gun violence; (mentions of) death; allusions to dub-con; possible PTSD and flashbacks; sexual innuendos and foul language. Loads of fluff and teasing.

I’m covering my bases here to make sure - probably sounds worse than it is. If you’re interested in specific warnings for individual chapters, let me know.

A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics​; long chapter (if you wish to split, best is when the POV changes); mind the WARNINGS ❗❗❗

“The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost.

He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.”

― Nikita Gill

The conference room was but a cacophony of voices and yet to Steve, they all sounded dull; nothing was as loud as the guilt of letting you walk off screaming inside his skull.

They took you. You, you, you.

He had been a second from kissing you, a few inches, a few words from having you in his grasp, and now his own stupidity yanked you from his arms violently, laughing in his face for thinking for even a moment that he deserved happiness.

For thinking that he deserved you.

God, he was pathetic. The unhinged stalker seemed to know better than himself: he was not worthy.

How could he be when he failed to do the most basic thing a partner should do? To keep you safe?

Go back, you had mouthed at him, part deadly serious, part playful, an adorable pep in your step as if kissing his cheek and the near encounter of lips gave you the same high it had given to him, and Jesus fucking Christ the image of you leaving was seared into his brain forever now.

That might have been the last time he had seen you alive; the thought made him violently ill, having him clench his jaw, nails digging into his palms with the effort not to throw up when his stomach heaved.

“Accessing the security footage from the café and the street camera.” A male voice, familiar one.

“You’ve seen anything, Natasha?” Another male voice, unfairly calm, authoritative.

“We were too late. Not even a vehicle speeding away, no signs of a struggle. Jones had to go quietly for some reason.” A female voice, familiar too, a little mechanical.

This last voice wasn’t making any sense. Not if it was still talking about you – who the fuck was some Jones, you were Sparkles, his Sparkles, a firecracker of a woman – because you wouldn’t have gone quietly.

“If there were more than one assailant, she could have succumbed in order to protect civilians,” another female voice suggested, tense.

“I don’t think so. We already agreed cooperation with another unsub is unlikely. Only 0,7% percent within stalker cases.” A male voice, opposing with conviction.

Steve wanted to believe that voice; but then again, you were exceptional. So why wouldn’t your stalker? Yours, not his, because Steve was a fucking idiot-

“I got the security footage.”

Steve hungrily gasped for air, feeling as if the words alone had just pulled him out of deep waters. His gaze refocused, laser sharp as it zeroed on the floating image Tony had started projecting, his body vibrating with adrenalin.

If he saw any indication that anyone on the footage was about to hurt you, he was going to rip them limb from limb from limb-

You had a small smile on your face still, seemingly lost in pleasant thoughts as you entered and joined the line, and Steve’s rapidly beating heart clenched painfully. He had been the reason for that smile.

A woman entered a few second behind you, somewhat familiar and absurdly normal in her business suit, balancing files and a phone on top of them, her gaze focused on the screen instead on the route. It was like watching a tiny trainwreck happen – she bumped into you, the load of files almost scattering.

Steve’s thoughts did the exact opposite; they finally gathered, something in his brain clicking.

“That’s Agent Bernes. Cindy Bernes,” he blurted out as the name finally lit up in his mind, quicker than Tony’s facial recognition system.

Tony’s fingers swiftly moved across the keyboard as the scene continued to unfold; you jumped a bit at the unexpected touch.

“Jones’ startled, but she instantly relaxes. She laughs at herself even. They seem… friendly,” Emily observed, her last statement equal part a question and a statement.

Steve’s mind raced, hundred miles a minute, trying to remember all the interactions between you and Bernes – he was going to murder her slowly, painfully – realizing he had witnessed frustratingly little.

“They’re… acquaintances. Bernes’ a good agent, trustworthy-- or she was until now. Tony-?”

“Pulling her file now and running a facial around all the damn New York City already,” Tony hummed, frowning at his screen. He sounded angry too; good. He wouldn’t stop Steve when he’d break the woman’s damn neck then. “Locating her phone.”

“Jones’s getting drowsy. She’s been drugged, syringe probably hidden by the stack of files,” Reid noted, bringing Steve’s attention back to the footage.

He was right; you had a look of your drunk self, blinking rapidly, reaching out blindly as you tried to find your balance. Bernes was right there, oh so helpful, supporting you and leading you away from the queue, smiling reassuringly at the oblivious on-lookers.

Steve wanted to scream at them – to do something, because it was so obvious that something was wrong. Bernes was no friend, she was clearly hurting you, how could they not see it when it was right in front of their eyes-

But he wasn’t exactly one to talk, was he?

The thought made him clench his fists, the fact the broken skin on his knuckles was already healing only irritating him more.

“Her face changed, she just realized it.”

“And she realized she cannot fight Bernes either,” Reid added, exchanging a sombre look with Emily. “Whatever she was injected with was affecting her fast. She wouldn’t risk anyone’s safety if she was incapacitated. That’s the reason why she went quietly.”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, battling the warm feeling of affection curling in his chest; of course you wouldn’t endanger anyone. You were too good. But fuck, did he wish you had been bad at that moment and had tried to fight Bernes anyway.  

Maybe you’d spook her. Maybe you’d beat her.

Maybe you wouldn’t be in her clutches now.

“Uhm, guys?” Tony called out nervously, sounding confused. “I got eyes on Bernes. She’s in the building. She’s in training room 4.”

Steve bolted towards the door, a single crimson-coloured thought in his mind.

He was gonna slam that woman against a wall and beat your location out of her, no matter the witnesses or his reputation. He didn’t give a single damn – he was a man on a mission. He was going to find you. He was going to bring you to safety and never let you off his sight ever again, but first he was going to squeeze Bernes’ neck tight-

A palm appeared an inch in front of him, flat against his chest, almost touching.

Anger flared in Steve; it seemed Aaron Hotchner was interested in losing his hand. Steve wasn’t above that. If your former boss – who should be supporting his actions – thought he could stop him, he had another thing coming.

“Wait. She’s got different clothes, different hairstyle. How far is the café?” he questioned, having Steve waver for a brief second.

A second too long; Tony spoke up, completely flabbergasted.

“Not far. But there’s no way she dropped a car with Jones somewhere, changed and rushed back to work unless she’s got superspeed we don’t know about…?”

“So it can’t be her… unless she altered the footage of the café or the security feed in the Tower somehow?” Emily questioned, no less confused than any of them. “How is that- how is that even possible?”

“Fuck.”

The realization hit Steve like a ton of bricks, horror seizing him, all colour draining from his face.

“She stole a Mimicry.”

The billionaire mimicked his curse, running a hand down his face.

Defeated, Steve shuffled his feet further back into the room, fingers gripping at his hair.

It was the only thing that made sense – the only thing that would explain a lot.

Steve was terribly confident he was right; but if he was, they were fucked. You were, but that was not an option for him. However, if the unsub stole a mimicry, finding her just turned virtually impossible.

“I thought those were a myth,” Reid said, genuinely shocked for the first time Steve had met him, his expression almost comical.

Except Steve wasn’t laughing.

“What’s a mimicry?” Hotch asked, unsettled.

“It’s a piece of technology our agents use to protect their identity when undercover. A photostatic veil which allows you to borrow anyone’s face. It has a joint piece for voice modification too,” Natasha’s voice sounded from the speaker. “That’s not good. We’ll look around for any evidence, but I don’t fancy our chances much. Call you back.”

The call disconnected, the pit in Steve’s stomach doubling in size. He agreed with Nat – and he hated that.

“How would she even get her hands on one of these devices?” Emily asked, clearly still processing the information that such device even existed.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, taking a deep breath, a headache building as he desperately tried to figure out how to find you when they didn’t even have the face or the name of the unsub, nor a locator on you.

And his frustration was rising by the minute, because he had no clue.

“The numbers are under strict control, because a theft of even one piece can have---” He gulped, gesturing towards the floating image of actual Agent Bernes as to prove a point. “-far-reaching consequences.”

“It must have been reported as damaged during a mission and wasn’t properly destroyed. That’s the only way I can think of,” Tony said, the clicking of his fingers against the keyboard turning mad.

Which was good; they were all fucking mad. But that didn’t really help them, did it?

“She must have been planning this for quite a while. This is even more meticulous than we thought,” Reid pondered, only having Steve grind his teeth.

“How does that help us? If she’s been using it, she could have posed as twenty different people in last week and we wouldn’t even know.”

“Explains why you could never identify one person who was taking photos of you,” Emily muttered, dryly and gently at once.

Steve scoffed. “Yeah, she could have walked past every single each of us and no one would be the wiser.”

“But wouldn’t you be able to tell from different mannerism? Different gait? Speech patterns?” Reid questioned, earning at least two sets of murderous gazes – from Steve and from Tony.

“Not all of us are profilers, kid, we just see familiar faces… It’s probably how she got into the storage room too; you don’t bat an eye if you’re walking out and Black Widow is about to enter, lifting her card to the scanner, no matter how fake. You just let her in.”

Reid seemed to consider it, grimacing. “…right.”

Meanwhile, Steve thought hard, praying he wasn’t the one to help the unsub by letting her walk by.

“Alright, I’m pulling the footage from the street cams, but the question is, how do we find someone who can wear a face of pretty much anyone? How do we find the unsub if we don’t know who she is? Are we back to square one?”

Agent Hotchner shook his head at the question, clearly working hard to stay rational; and he was ultimately better at it than Steve. Steve felt like tearing his hair out as if it could help him think clearer and come up with some miraculous solution.

You relied on him and he must not fail you. He needed to bring you home, put his arms around you and never let you go. And break a few bones in the process, but that would be more for him.

“No, we’re not. You narrowed the list according to the initial criteria. The minor offences you turned a blind eye to when recruiting still apply, the time frame remains the same, we can still exclude the agents who have been out of the country on missions or have rock solid alibi… the list we had is still relevant,” Hotch pointed out.

“That’s nice and all, but that’s still over thirty agents. I’ll run facial for all of them, but… that’s a lot.”

A wavering breath shook Steve’s ribcage at Tony’s words.

Too many agents to choose from. Too much time wasted. By the time they’d gather their wits and figured out the unsub’s identity, you could be out of the country. Worse, you could be-- you couldn’t be.

Ominous silence, only interrupted the quiet clicks of Tony’s keyboard, wrapped the room in a heavy blanket of frustration and despair.

How would they find the woman who took you with so many agents to eliminate? The profile was informative, sure – or had been, before falling apart completely – but it did little to eliminate candidates now when it was you, not Steve, who was the centre of-

Fuck.

Fucking hell.

Steve’s head snapped to Tony so quickly he nearly gave himself a whiplash.

“Show me the abstracts of their files, now,” he blurted out, clearly startling the billionaire with the urgency and sudden determination behind his words.

“Huh? I’ll show it to everyone, that’s the-“

“No, you don’t un-” Steve stopped midsentence, swiftly turning to Spencer for confirmation of his hopes, meeting with his curious gaze. “The questions you asked me before. They still apply too, don’t they?”

“Well, yes, but the focus shifts-“

“-to Sparkles, yeah, I got that,” Steve finished, almost annoyed at how dumfounded everyone seemed, how they didn’t see that they had so much more than the basic criteria Hotch mentioned.

They had Steve.

And yes, Steve turned out to be a crappy handler and he had failed to protect you, but maybe he could begin his redemption right this moment. Maybe he could save you in time.

“Show me the files, Tony. Something could be familiar to me. We’re friends. When Sparkles talks, I listen, she could have noticed something.”

Realization apparently finally dawned to Tony, because he nodded to himself repeatedly as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

“And you watch.”

Steve’s head whipped to Emily this time, shocked into silence at her accusing words. Yes, he did watch, but was she really calling him out now? Did she—was she comparing him to the stalker?!

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” she assured him quickly, apologetic, talking with her hands more than her voice. “You could have seen who took interest in her without being a stalker yourself. Ironically enough, you might have noticed more than Jones has herself.”

Steve gulped, accepting her argument, even if his stomach twisted when the sudden weight of responsibility – responsibility for your life – fell on his chest, making it hard to breathe. So far, he hadn’t done so well with it.

And failing was not an option.

“I hope I did. Because otherwise I fucked it all up.”

Emily’s expression softened, lips parting as she gave a subtle shake of a head, compassion written in her eyes.

“Cap, come on, you couldn’t have known-“

“But I should have known better, Tony. I should have said something – a damn mailbox, I should have-“ Steve clenched his jaw to stop more self-pity from spilling from his mouth. They didn’t have time for this, no matter the guilt biting into his conscience. “It doesn’t matter now.”

The moment Tony opened the files for him, a holographic image Steve could move to his liking, his eyes began skimming over the CVs, images, mission history; his mind raced, frantically trying to gather the scraps of information, memories of you doing something as simple as telling him about your day over Thai take-out, shoulders brushing as you sat by his side, hands reaching for the box at the same time, your apologetic smile, a chuckle even, sweet and teasing...

Come on, Rogers. Focus.

This should be easy: his mind had been enhanced by the serum and he had always been good at having his mind full of you.

But now, his brain threw the questions Reid had asked right back at him, having them circle in his skull as the reports screamed at him to read between the lines, creating blurry images and alternatives he had to sort through. There were so damn many, and the seconds were ticking off, and every second you were alone with the stalker, your fierce and brave and capable self, but vulnerable was a second too much.

It was only when he caught a glimpse of a face and a name, hearing your voice laced with compassion and indignation when something in his mind finally clicked, allowing him to breathe in again.

“Bonnie Stiles.”

It was the only name that made sense, the only name that fit the pattern.

Without question, the file of the agent was opened, details spilling into space, complete documentation unsealed for all of them to see.

The way Tony kept his sass and teasing for himself for once only steeled Steve’s conviction. He had to be right. He had to.

“Why do you think it’s her?” Hotch inquired, voice levelled but intrigued.

“Back in April, she got drunk. A lot. From what I heard, some embarrassing photos were taken and spread through social media. The other agents had a great laugh over it.”

“Stressor?” Emily suggested, sounding a little doubtful, exchanging a look with her colleagues.

“Could be. Public humiliation. Could lead to isolation…” Hotch pondered, having Steve shook his head.  

“It wasn’t just that. Add cheating. Sp-- Jones told me Stiles was cheated on by her girlfriend and that was the reason she got so drunk,” Steve explained, hopes rising as Reid nodded to himself, writing it down.

“So they are good friends?” he asked.

“Barely. But while many agents were laughing, Sparkles… she wasn’t. Stiles was off her game in a training two days later and her sparring partner was having a great time kicking her ass, laughing. Sparkles offered a hand,” Steve said, fond of your kindness – and cursing it at once. “Literally and figuratively. She tried her best not to treat her differently. The rest slowly followed example.”

“That’s the turning point,” Emily agreed instantly, only having Reid and Hotch nod in firm agreement. “Stiles was cheated on and humiliated and Jones swept in like her personal hero. Celebrity stalking and protectiveness. Even the act of service – taking pictures of you with other women – it makes sense now. She doesn’t want Jones to end up like her.”

“Okay, great, Jarvis is already working on pinging her phone,” Tony announced, voice laced with slight annoyance. “Someone please rewatch the street cams footage for me would you, I see nothing.”

Before anyone could follow up on the request, a ringtone cut the air, Steve’s breath hitching despite all logic – the chances it was you were almost zero, he knew that and yet….

Hotch pulled out his phone, immediately accepting the call.

“Garcia, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello to my favourite crimefighters! And to the Avengers! Just wanted to let you know we’re done with the case in Ohio and I know that you have your own local tech genius and I don’t mean to imply in the slightest that he’s not able to do his job, I’m sure he’s stellar, better than that, but I know you’re still on a case and my fingers are itching and-“

“Garcia. I love you, but decaf time for you,” Emily cut the ramble off impatiently, but not unkindly. “Why are you calling?”

“I could help?” the woman on the other end of the line pipped up, hopeful. “Can I help? I want to help you even if you’re snappy. Why are you snappy?”

Steve swore that had the circumstances been any different, he would have smiled at the interaction, he really would. But the acutely painful thought of you, who would have laughed your perfect ass off hearing this, turned the corners of his lips downwards.

“Oh. It would be helpful if you could find any information on one Bonnie Stiles, agent with the Avengers Initiative. Mr. Stark is on it, but perhaps you can search outside their database?” Reid suggested, having Garcia perk up again, a distant sound of clicking of a keyboard already audible.

“Oh! You have a viable suspect? But that’s good!”

Steve caught Emily’s bitter smile as she spoke up again. “Yeah. Sorry to be snappy. That’s the good news, Stiles probably is our unsub. Bad news is that she took Jones.”

Short silence followed the ominous announcement, even the movement of Garcia’s fingers apparently ceasing.

And then the technical analyst spoke again, her normally cheery voice earning an unmistakable dark edge.

“Well, one Ms. Bonnie Stiles better prepare for me raising hell. I’m gonna dig out so much dirt I could bury her under it. Call you back.”

The call disconnected.

Steve felt an overwhelming surge of affection towards the woman; from the three simple sentences, he could tell she fiercely adored you and she was willing to do just about anything for you. And so would he; they were like brothers in arms.

“I hate this Stiles woman,” Tony spitted out, uncharacteristically humourless – and even less characteristically so, in complete agreement with Steve. “I can’t tap into her phone yet, she’s using some kind of stupid coating I’ve never seen before. I can break the encryption, but it will take some time.”

The brief optimism Steve had felt was wiped instantly.

“We don’t have time,” he hissed, turning to the billionaire who didn’t bother glancing up as his fingers played an angry staccato on the keys.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Hotch spoke, once again irritatingly calm. “But Jones will buy us some. The faster we find them the better, but Jones is one of the best agents I’ve ever worked with. She’ll know what to do, she’ll play into whatever fantasy and affections Stiles is holding onto.”

His whole demeanour spoke of conviction; he stood tall, chin up, dark eyes kind and proud. Your former boss had firm belief in your abilities and so did Steve – he knew you could face danger. You were wicked smart, your ability on display every day through your quick-witted retorts well-thought decisions. Your emotional intelligence was off the charts too.

But cold fear gnawed on Steve’s mind anyway – could that be enough?

“You think she’ll fool her?” Steve asked hopefully, voice as small as he felt. “For long enough?”

“I believe so and I hope so, yes.”  

Steve took a deep breath, letting the words wash over him and give him strength. Because that was what you needed now – you needed the Earth’s mightiest heroes and the reinforcements you had called in, unsuspecting of being the one who’d need saving.

“What’s our plan once we find the location?” Emily pondered. “We can’t exactly barge in, guns blazing.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Agent Hotchner agreed, his serious gaze finding Steve’s, clearly considering him the leader of the Avengers. “I think we’re gonna need you to support us weapon-wise. The Initiative knows Stiles’ training better than anyone. Which is why I believe we should take Agents Romanoff and Barton… and you, Steve.”

Steve’s heart skipped a startled beat, relief and satisfaction washing over him at once.

He was coming with. Good. It didn’t even cross his mind to stay put since you were revealed as the true target, but he knew that if you were here, you’d raise hell at the mere notion of him going with Stiles still being in possession of the bullets.

But the truth was, he had fucked up, so he was about to fix it. No more sitting back. He didn’t care for the reason Agent Hotchner wanted him with – hell, he wouldn’t care if he’d end up catching the bullet. He was going to be there for you and make sure you were safe again.

Curiously, not one person from the BAU seemed surprised at Hotch’s announcement. Tony, on the other hand, was a different story entirely.

“Hold up, hold up… really? You’re taking him and you’ll turn down the advantage of my armour?” Tony asked bitingly, offended.

In contrast, Hotch seemed barely fazed.

“You’ll be the back-up. We need the man in a flying suit to stay out of this, you’re too intimidating. Stiles might panic if she sees you, shoot either herself or Jones or both. You need to keep your distance. The rest of us will come in… but you do as we say and you let us talk.”

Steve’s blood ran cold.

Say what?

“You sure about that?” Tony spoke before Steve could, the flare of anger rendering him speechless.

He was coming, but he’d be coming as a prop?!

“Yes. Stiles is clearly a well-trained agent and we cannot underestimate her, that much is true. It is already a risk to take Captain Rogers, but he could be the distraction we need to throw Stiles off balance,” Hotch insisted, turning to Steve. “She won’t be expecting you because of the bullets and the danger they pose to you. That is if you’re even willing to undergo the risk?”

As if that was even a question. This was you. He truly would let himself be shot if it came to it; even if the stakes were higher than usual and even normal bullets were no damn joke. But his body could take it. If it ensured that you’d get alive out of there? To hell with specialized firearm.

“I don’t care for a few bullets, Agent Hotchner.”

“Good.”

They were like fire and water; Steve heated in his determination, Hotch steady. Steve hated the idea of only tagging along from the bottom of his soul; as much as he had never chosen to be the Captain, he gravitated towards the leading position more and more. A courtesy of his stubbornness and unwillingness to compromise his morals and beliefs.

So it would taste bitter to swallow the pride and let your former boss take the lead and it would be even harder to trust him with something as precious as your life – but you had called them in. You had faith they were the best of the best and you had trusted them with his life; and as much as everything in him fought the notion of giving up the wheel, the crash feeling as if imminent, he had to do it.

For you.

He’d rather keep you than his pride.

“Is this-- is what you’re describing the safest way for Jones?” Steve asked lowly, a lump in his throat.

“Statistically, yes,” Reid said matter-of-factly, even if slightly worried. The same moment, Hotch spoke too, calm. “I believe so.”

Steve nodded, less than reassured.

For you. He was doing it for you.

“Then we’ll do it just like you say.”

“Sir, Agent Romanoff just texted you they have nothing and are on the way back,” Jarvis chimed in.

“Good. Tell them to hurry up, J. Thanks,” Tony hummed absentmindedly. “I’m almost done with the decryption. In the meantime, some light reading for you all.”

New files emerged; Stiles’ school records, medical data, employment history, family, bank accounts.

How did Tony find it, Steve had no idea. But he latched onto every new word to gather all the intel he could on the enemy. Hotch might be in charge – but Steve had no qualms about stepping in, nor about destroying Agent Stiles with his bare hands and any means necessary. No matter her missions record and medical history.

He noticed Hotch absently reach for his phone as his eyes remained on the files, blindly dialling a number, automatically putting the call on speaker.

“Dammit, bossman! I can only type as fast even when I’m highly motivated,” the now familiar voice sputtered on the other end, exasperated typing in the background.

A brief smile passed on Hotch’s lips.

“I’m sorry, Garcia, but I know you’re genius enough to already have something for us. Don’t you?”

A fleeting moment of silence that allowed Steve to finish reading – and the technical analyst sighed, her voice suddenly warmer.

“Low blow, sir, but oh, do I have something. I think you have most of it, but let me tell you, Bonnie Stiles is a sad sad person,” Garcia started out, a note of compassion lacing her voice.

And Steve felt it too, but Stiles would be a lot more sorry soon, because no matter her tragedies, she had no right to hurt you.

Hurting you was one of the rare things Steve could never forgive to anyone.

“So, her mother died when Bonnie was only thirteen, father shortly after her eighteenth birthday. She was acting out after her mother’s death; she’s got a juvie record for petty theft and some small vandalism in girl’s showers at the private school she has been kicked out from right after. My guess? She made a teeny tiny hole to watch whenever she wanted – in secret. This was around the same time her relationship with her classmate Caroline became a public knowledge, leading to Caroline being kicked out as well. I don’t know anything about them after that, but my guess is they broke up shortly after, because Caroline’s family moved to Oregon. Anyway, back to Bonnie… changing schools set her back on track, no record after that. She graduated top of her class, signed up for academy and here we are. I suppose you have better records of her career than I do.”

A few hums of agreement confirmed the claim, giving Garcia room to breathe in after her long monologue.

“Right, so what you might not know is that she got an ugly incident in April. Some not-so-representative pictures of her being completely smashed appeared online after she got cheated on by her girlfriend with a man from what I gathered from the chitchat you don’t want to know where I found,” Garcia said matter-of-factly. “Which is awful and I always have to question my faith in humanity when people cheat, but it’s not as awful as the news Stiles received about her medical condition exactly seventeen days ago.”

“Breast cancer,” Reid supplied, as if everyone in the room hadn’t already read that.

Steve wanted to feel sorry for the woman, he really did – but right now, pity was the last emotion on his mind. He understood they were still searching for your location and he knew Hotch, Reid and Emily could read things behind everything they just found out, but the clock was ticking.

Time was the one thing they didn’t have, despite your undeniable qualifications and witty brain.

“Yes. She’s to enter radiotherapy in a month,” Garcia added. “It doesn’t look like she’s beyond saving in the slightest, but…”

“But we could play ‘choose your favourite stressor and trigger’,” Emily noted sarcastically, eyeing Steve. “She probably feels like she running out of time and the rumours about your relationship didn’t help.”

The implication that whatever he felt for you and morphed into his behaviour towards you forced Bonnie to act had Steve’s stomach plumet. But what was he supposed to do? Not love you? Hide his affection better, when you seemed just as enthusiastic about spending time with him?

“I’m searching for a possible secondary location she could take Jones to, but so far coming out empty. I assume her apartment with the reduced rent from the Avengers Initiative wouldn’t be her first choice.”

“Good thinking. And good job, Penelope, keep it up,” Emily praised her colleague kindly.

“Will do, my dears.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Agent Hotchner added, eyes calculating as his mind was already miles away. “Let us know if-“

“I will, but guys?”

“What is it, Garcia?” Reid chimed in, curious as Garcia’s voice turned barely audible.

“Bring her home safe, please?”

Steve couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips, nor the anxiety digging into his gut. That was all he wanted too; he really sympathized with your friend.

He caught a sad smile on Reid face too as Emily replied, voice firm and full of a promise. “We plan to.”

And that they did.

“Good. You all stay safe too, that’s an order. Garcia out.”

With a shuffle on the other end of the line, she was gone again; but the team didn’t get a chance to discuss anything further as Natasha and Clint rushed down the hallway, bursting into the room, battle-ready and slightly out of breath.

“Where are we with tracking that son of a bitch who took Cap’s girl?” Clint asked, sharp eyes skimming over the holographic files.

Steve didn’t correct him for once; if the past two days were any indication, you soon might be exactly that. Even if the near-kiss in the elevator earlier in the morning felt like ancient history.

Tony noticed the lack of Steve’s protest, smirking.

“Just the bitch, like I was saying from the start. And I got her location juuuuust… now,” he blurted out, already on his feet, his determined eyes on Steve.

Despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach, adrenalin flooded Steve’s bloodstream, muscles tensing, readying to fight – to punch his way through just about anything.

A plan was already forming in his head--- but his mind came to a sudden halt.

His fists practically vibrated, jaw tight as he gritted his teeth – because he realized he wasn’t the one whose plan would be put in motion.

He found it hard to call it a good thing; even if deep down, he knew that the majority of his plan was to crush Stiles’ windpipe if he found a single scratch on you. He closed his eyes, granting himself one calming breath before he glanced at Agent Hotchner who moved to the door.

“Okay, Agent Hotchner, you call the shots. Don’t make me regret it.”

Hotch just reciprocated his glare, an unrelenting silent force, the tinniest nod.

“We care about her too,” Emily said softly, one corner of her lips up.

It was a simple statement of a fact; but the genuine affection and fierce determination rolled off Emily in waves and gave Steve’s mind at least some peace.

He knew that. He had seen that and heard that. It just had to be enough.

“Riiiight. Feelings later. You’re in charge? Then take charge,” Natasha hummed, chin up as she stared at her temporary commander – only for her head to whip to side when she saw Steve move towards to the door, exasperation painting her features. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Rogers? Sit down.”

Steve ignored her, grateful for Reid to explain instead of him.

“He’s coming with us. That’s the plan. We have to take the antidote as a safeguard, of course, but his presence should play in our favour.”

A beat of silence followed. Natasha’s face was calculating as she stared at Steve, not blind to his satisfaction.

“Fine,” she sighed as Steve walked past her, her hand catching on his forearm. He met her serious gaze. “Just… don’t be a dumbass and don’t get shot. She’d be pissed.”

Steve gulped. He didn’t know why Natasha thought he liked the idea of getting shot by bullets specifically designed to incapacitate him, but he couldn’t deny the truth of her words. You’d be furious; very endearingly so.

He gave a barely noticeably nod, having Natasha release him, the automatic door falling open for him as he made to stalk out.

“She would! Spark-les would fly!”

No one dignified Tony’s joke with an answer; their heads were on the mission already.

“Really? No one feels that pun?” Tony hummed, slightly offended. “Fine. I agree though, don’t get shot, she’d kill us.”

Steve just sighed, the pit in his stomach too deep with biting worry to truly care or act upon his annoyance. If he wanted to punch Tony for this and many other things, it had to wait.

There were more important things at hand – namely you.

God knew that for Steve, you were the most important thing of all.

I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying were words of someone who had found themselves face to face with Steven Grant Rogers, you thought. They must have been.

In the dim light of the movie still playing, shadows danced over his sharp features, softened by the sleep of the righteous, who rarely did wrong since they always acted in their best conscience. You knew that his actions and all the pain he had endured in his life weighted on him still, but at the moment, he seemed at peace.

Lips pursed and slightly parted, chiselled jaw relaxed. Eyes slipped shut, eyelashes casting long shadows over his cheekbones, over the greening healing bruise. Soft pants of breath warming your waist. Hair sticking in all directions.

He was cute.

There had been nothing cute about the way his absent eyes seemed to barely recognize your face; nothing cute about the bruise, the drying blood in his cut; nothing cute about the rasp in his voice, dripping with exhaustion despite his body looking as taut as a bowstring.

It gradually melted away, eyelids growing heavy as he relaxed into your side, first his head lulling to side and then his whole body, pinning you down. The 240-pound supersoldier used your body as a pillow and a mattress at once.

You wouldn’t change a thing about it.

You lowered the volume, half-heartedly resuming watching the movie, gaze straying to the soundly sleeping man more and more frequently.

Huge men like Steve should not look this cute, but here you were, fingers itching to run through his hair, to trace the graceful lines of his face.

No matter how difficult it was to resist, the tingle in your fingertips originating from your guttural need to touch him was not the main problem; you had some resemblance of control still. The pins and needles creeping into your arm however, fully occupied by holding Steve’s weight, were a wholly different issue.

The first minutes, you chewed down on your lip, fighting the urge to move, because dammit, Steve was drained by the mission and he deserved his rest. But then the pain grew and grew and then it disappeared altogether, which was even worse, and as much as you hated it, you spared one last glance at Steve’s angelically innocent face before you tried to free your arm, moving as little as possible.

You failed; Steve jolted awake, adorably confused, then apologetic, then red as a tomato. Unbearably beautiful and sheepish and soft. So soft that the image of him turned a little hazy, overpowered by feeling returning to your arm, the biting pain returning twice as sharply.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry-“ he apologized, frantic, his voice familiar and foreign at once, his face swallowed by shadows as he stumbled backwards and nearly toppled over.

You wanted to call out for him and tell him it was fine, maybe that you would be perfectly okay to have him sleep on you or next to you at any given time; but your mouth felt as if stuffed with cotton, tongue sticky and heavy.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

The voice was still echoing in your head as you blinked your heavy eyelids open, tender fingers carding through your hair stilling and then disappearing.

A face slowly came into focus, low light illuminating familiar features of a woman. A colleague, you realized, dull pain throbbing in your temples; merely search for a name to put to the face felt absurdly hard.

Steve. You had been with Steve—no, dreaming of Steve, remembering a movie night, but how—what-

The stalker. You were investigating a stalker, your former team was in New York, at the Tower, there were flowers… I could hurt those who are not worthy of you… the flowers. You lost it, again, you went to the café to get some air and sugar and caffeine and-

“Cindy,” you muttered, closing your eyes, the face of your colleague flashing in your brain, whispering you that this wasn’t Cindy, no, you had met Cindy at the café, she bumped into you, but this wasn’t her, no, the name Cindy didn’t feel right.

You swallowed, throat dry, as you opened your eyes again, your memory finally kicking in.

“Bonnie.”

She smiled, eyes wide and a little apologetic. Her head was tilted to side, you realized; so was yours. Your head was spinning but when you tried to take inventory of your body, sensations attacked you all at once. You found yourself lying on your side on something soft, but not unbearably so; a bed.

You were lying on your side, hands tied behind you back, your weight squishing you left arm and shoulder – the source of the unpleasant tingles so strong they crept into your dreams.

“Arm,” you managed to whisper and before you knew it, the whole world swayed as you were pulled up and steadied in a sitting position by a firm grip on your arms. Nausea swung your stomach up and down, causing you to gasp.

Fuck, you so didn’t want to throw up now, but you also really felt like it.

You had been taken.

The fact seemed to dawn to you too slow; your brain was asleep still, the unfamiliar room screaming at you of an empty life of whoever occupied it.

Of whoever kidnapped you.

You? Why- Why Cindy? And Bonnie... Christ, your head hurt.

The profile. Two profiles? Two people? It had made no sense- and Steve surely would have noticed if he saw the two women repeatedly, if-

Oh. Oh. Oh no.

“Mimicry.”

That was why Steve never saw it coming. It was likely there really was only one unsub; with a photostatic veil. Bonnie Stiles.

Her smile turned brighter, almost proud.

“Yes. I knew you would understand immediately. You’re smart.”

Not smart enough, apparently. Or observant, you thought bitterly. You would have never guessed Bonnie could be the unsub – you’d swear she had never expressed any interest in men as long as you knew her, hell, you believed she hated men after what Lucille did to her. You would have never thought she’d fall for Steve.

Clearly, you were wrong. Then again, you didn’t know her all that well, so that wasn’t surprising.

Christ, why was the light from the lamp on the nightstand so bright? Why did your limbs feel so heavy? More importantly though – how the fuck were you about to get out of this? How did you even find yourself in this situation?

“Are you hurting?” she asked softly, swiftly letting go of your arms, taking a frantic step back. “I’m sorry.”

Why was she sorry? She just kidnapped you, probably believing you were in her way to Steve, a romantic rival. And yes, you were also an acquaintance of hers and a colleague, but primarily, you were a rival now. She was sorry you were hurting?

Why did she care?

Why would she even kidnap you if you were in her way? Why not just shoot you point blank when she got to you, especially when she could borrow anyone’s face, getting away with it with no effort? What was she hoping to achieve with this? Getting Steve’s attention? Hoping Steve would be chivalrous and took your place so she had him for herself? Or did she believe that seeing her orchestrate all this would impress him, including the fact she had overpowered you, proving she was better than you?

But then why weren’t you in any of the photos in the first place? If you weren’t worthy either?

Or was that a next stage? Civilians got photos, you and later Natasha would get a kidnapping?

Oh god—was she going to use mimicry to impersonate you to get closer to Steve? That was absurd, he’d be able to tell immediately anyone in their right mind would know that--- alright, Bonnie probably wasn’t in her right mind.

But still, it circled you back to why were you still alive if she wanted to impersonate you. Not that you were complaining. It was just that truly, nothing was making sense anymore.

What mattered now, however, was that if she felt the slightest remorse at hurting you still, you could get through to her.

“My head… I feel really dizzy and tired,” you said, trying to appeal to her conscience. Bonnie grimaced regretfully. Score. “Can I get some water maybe?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, gulping, face paling as her eyes frantically scanned your body, then looked around the room as if she couldn’t tell how to avoid the guilt she felt.

Good. This is good.

“And you don’t have to, Bonnie. You don’t have to do any of this. I promise you I am not in your way. Steve has no romantic interest in me-“

Her search came to a sudden halt, head snapping back to you, pupils dark.

Your hazy brain understood in an instant that you had misstepped. You shouldn’t have mentioned Steve. You were not worthy after all.

Not to mention that you were getting the feeling that Steve was in fact rather interested and you just made the mistake of lying to an unhinged stalker.

Bravo, Jones.

“Exactly!” Bonnie spat venomously, eyes flashing with rage. “He has no romantic interest and you… you pine after him!”

Okay, that was one way to call you out. And here you thought you were less obvious. And you wouldn’t have thought that was too big of an issue, but it seemed that at the moment, even being into Steve was something you were not allowed to do.

You said nothing to your defence, however. Words betrayed you; how were you supposed to react anyway, without lying again?

“He just wants to--- like all men! They all make such a mess of things, they cheat and they make you cheat, good people, faithful people, they- they taint you-“ she sputtered, out of breath, hands trembling as did you heart in fear.

You got her worked up. Stupid, stupid- but how to calm her down-

“He doesn’t deserve you! He’s. Not. Worthy!”

Your mind came to a screeching halt. All air got knocked out from your lungs, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Oh no.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck-

You had messed up. You had messed up big time, made an enormous leap of judgement.

The kind of a mistake that would have got you fired had you still been working at the BAU. The team was never going to let you live this down.

Not that that was the priority here.

God, you were an A-class idiot. It had been right there in front of you the whole time and you hadn’t seen it.

Steve was the target, yes, but only as a literal target for the stolen bullets. The primary object of the stalking was you. Bonnie Stiles thought Steve was not worthy of you and she tried to tell you through the pictures.

And it hadn’t even crossed you mind… but why would it? If the chances were it was either Steve or you, how could you have figured out the right answer, when the choice seemed to obvious? How?

Perhaps by not pining after him and using your damn brain. You had the photos in your mailbox because they were meant for you. It was so absurdly clear now – how could you think a stalker so meticulous would mess up and chose a wrong mailbox? If you had only taken a step back instead of drowning in self-pity about the people you had failed to save before and thought twice. How could have you been so idiotic and not see she was after you?

The thing was, you really wanted to blame yourself for not thinking clearly. But as a former profiler and a friend to the master of all science Spencer Reid, you knew all too well what effects love had on the brain.

You had never stood a chance. Not since the moment you had set your eyes on Steven Grant Rogers.

Tender fingertips brushed your cheekbone, bringing you back, gaze refocusing on Bonnie’s face softened by an apology yet again.

“I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry. But you deserve so much better.”

Well, this changed the situation a lot.

What angle could you play now?

As you felt Bonnie’s gaze boring into yours – a mad gaze, a soft gaze, loving and lost and angry at once somehow – a flip in your brain switched, throwing you into a strict work mode. Even if you were far from being at your best.

Faintly, you recalled the basic handbook for talking down an unsub. Or any disturbed individual, really.

When talking to a disturbed person who has an advantage, do not argue.

“Bonnie… I had no idea. I had no idea you-“ you bit your tongue as the word love almost came out, “harboured any feelings.”

She nodded sadly, releasing your cheek.

Slowly, she took a seat on a nearby chair; she must have sat there earlier when she guarded your bedside as you slept. The idea of it was creepy, but that was beside the point. Bonnie was on a verge of a nervous breakdown. Or as Reid would remind you, a major depressive episode as they called it now.

Oh Spence…

Do not try to talk them out of their illusion.

“I was afraid I’d get my heart broken again. And I saw you with him and I just wanted you to be happy, but—but the way he was with other women, so cocky, so flirty,” she hissed, hand curling into a fist. She took a deep breath, forcing a small smile, determination flickering in her eyes. “I knew I couldn’t wait anymore. I was running out of time and he-- I knew I had to protect you. Us. You understand, don’t you?”

Do not lie unless you can perfect your lie.

“I understand the need to protect the ones I care about, yes.”

Her smile turned relaxed as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and you curled your toes in fight to stay entirely still as she did so.

Do not show how disturbing their behaviour is unless someone is in immediate danger.

“I knew you would. You’re pure. Too kind even. I saw as much with myself and with him. Perhaps neither of us is worthy of your love, but I will earn it,” she vowed. “Will you give me the chance, Angelo mio?”

You gulped at the endearment, shivers running up your spine.

You had heard it before. You had heard it when you accidentally eavesdropped on Bonnie ending a call with her former girlfriend whom she had met when in Italy.

This wasn’t just ‘celebrity’ stalking and delusion. She was also fulfilling a fantasy of fixing her relationship. This time, it would work out; her beloved wouldn’t cheat on her. She’d make sure of it. That’s what the bullets were for.

If you went along, the bullets might end up in Steve unless you convinced Bonnie he was not an issue for you and her. If you tried to talk her out of her illusion, you would be the one to catch a bullet very fast.  

Neither of the options were exactly comforting; as a matter of fact, they both really sucked.

“B-bonnie, I-“

“Promise me you’ll give me a chance,” she pleaded softly, and hadn’t it been for her furrowed brows, you would have believed it truly was a request and not an order.

The problem was, you couldn’t make that promise. It was like page number three in the handbook: Do not make any promises you are not sure you can keep. You had learned that one the hard way before. You wouldn’t make such promise now; so you had to stray the conversation elsewhere.

Or could you try to escape?

Barely. You still felt the effects of whatever she had dosed you with, both on your body and mind; the gears of your brain turned and turned, but whined with each minuscule motion as if rusty.

If you tried to fight, you’d end up dead. Not an outcome you were a fan of.

You licked your lips.

���Bonnie, I… what did you mean you were running out of time? Is it because you were taking a leave of absence?”

Her gaze fell to the floor, face turning away from you; you caught a glimpse of shame coating her features, her body curling into itself.

“I’m… I’m sick. But I will undergo radiotherapy and they said the chances are good!” she cried out, meeting your gaze again, eyes shining.

Oh. Oh okay.

The puzzle pieces, however small, were slowly falling into place, creating more and more concrete pictures. Possible stressors, the final trigger. All in all… it wasn’t too hard to feel genuinely sorry; so you let it consume you, the truth of the feeling seeping into your words.

“Oh Bonnie… I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-”

“Don’t be,” she blurted out, smiling through the glimmer of tears as she reached her palm to your thigh. “We can pull through. Together. Just promise me.”

She really was set dead on that promise, wasn’t she? It was perfectly unexceptional, but that didn’t make it any easier to manoeuvre around it.

How long could you handle it before you said something wrong?

It hadn’t escaped your notice there was no watch on your wrist; you doubted you still had your phone. There was no way for Steve and others to locate you unless they figured out Bonnie was behind everything – and maybe not even then.

Your former team was brilliant, so were the Avengers, and Steve wouldn’t rest until he found the culprit now when it was someone else who was in danger, but… it took you to be kidnapped and have it spelled out for you to understand Bonnie’s motivation and to tie the actions of the unsub to her.

How long till they’d figure it out?

How long till you made another terrible leap of judgement?

Your windpipe felt as if in a vice, chest burning with a lack of oxygen, squeezed in panic.

You couldn’t die.

You could not die, that was not an option, you had so much to see and try and Steve finally seemed interested, hell, maybe he had been interested the whole time and you wasted a good part of two years just watching from the side-lines, burying your feelings as deep as possible because you had been scared to lose him and now you could die before you found out what it felt like to be held by him as his girlfriend, to kiss him breathless, to have his hands roam your body, strong hands, gentle hands, artist’s hands-

“Angelo mio… where did you go?” a tender voice – fake, pretend, insane under the mask of gentleness – asked you, a squeeze to your left thigh snapping you from spiralling and suck in a breath.

You blinked away the wetness that gathered in your eyes, charming out a shaky smile.

“Nothing would make me happier than to pull through,” you admitted heartily, and fuck, wasn’t that the truth. “But… I seem to know so little about you. I—I promise you to listen to anything you have to say to me. I’m sure you have a plan, an agent, a woman as capable as yourself… tell me everything. Anything. I promise to listen.”

Soft fingertips wiped away the stray tear that rolled down your cheek, Bonnie’s whole face bright, her smile almost patronizing.

“I will tell you everything. Together, we can handle anything. But first… you wanted water, yes?”

Oh thank god-

“That would be very kind of you. The cuffs-”

“I’m sorry. They must stay on for now. I saw you train; I know your record,” she said almost proudly as she stood up, determined. “I know you know tricks and I won’t be tricked.”

Your first instinct as to assure her that you wouldn’t try to trick her, lulling her into false sense of security – but that would be a blatant lie. This whole thing, feigning interest just to keep yourself alive, was a lie.

Yet, you tried your angle once more, just the tinniest push.

“I promised to hear you out.”

“That you did, but you might as well hear me out in an interrogation room if you arrest me. I’m paying attention, angelo. You’re sneaky. I like that. But trust is earned.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“The most important base of a relationship,” you agreed with a sigh, swallowing the bitterness.

“Trust and loyalty, yes.” Bonnie nodded, a dangerous glint in her eye. “So please, understand. I don’t mean to hurt you, never you, but the cuffs stay on for now. But don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Yeah, you’d fucking bet.

“I’m sure you’ll do your best,” you whispered.

And hopefully so would your team – trying their best and as quick as possible. Because you might have Bonnie calm at the moment, but even in the course of a mental breakdown and her delusion, she remained extremely sharp, much to your inconvenience.

And a loaded gun was still at the nearby table, out of reach, and your hands were literally tied.

When interacting with a distraught person, remain calm, read one of the rules.

That was easier said and done.

You had broken out of one panic attack and returned to the realm of rational, survival instincts and years of experience taking over, but your heart was hammering against your ribcage still. You were acutely aware of the weakness in your muscles, head still throbbing and swimming with the remnants of whatever drug Bonnie had injected you with. As she walked to the fridge in the kitchen, remaining in sight, the fact you were alone gnawed at your bravado.

You had no doubt the team worked as hard as possible, harder even – but you never felt so lonely in your fight. You had grown too accustomed to Steve’s presence, to your fellow agents’ presence.

Now, you only had yourself to rely on; and you knew you were in no condition to overpower Bonnie.

So despite your skin prickling at her touch, you allowed her to angle your head when she raised the bottle of water to your lips and you gulped at it hungrily, praying it wasn’t dosed with something too.

She waited patiently until you had your fill, watching you cautiously for any sign of discomfort. You nodded at her thankfully when she put it away. Yet, she stayed close, hand sliding to your neck, cradling your head while the fingers of her free hand brushed over your damp lips, causing you to shiver, eyes slipping close. Your stomach lurched, but you swallowed the acidic taste of bile, turning into a statue as not to anger your captor by withdrawing.

“I will take such a good care of you,” she echoed her own words, her breath fanning your face, a tell-tale of what was to come and you were not ready for at all, all your muscles tensing with effort not to pull back from that. “So good.”

And then, her lips were on yours, soft and tender, tasting of strawberries of her lip balm, all wrong. You battled not to squeeze your eyes tighter, conscious of Bonnie watching you. She had spoken of your well-being, but she was doing it for herself and you couldn’t anger her.

She craved to control you, to turn you into her perfect fantasy – one that loved her, kissed her with enthusiasm and displayed no resistance nor disgust.

She scrutinized your face; but she could not see into your head.

If you fought to see a flash of blue eyes and sandy hair behind your eyelids, recalling a comforting scent of sandal wood, she would never know.

If you recalled how you kissed his cheek right before you walked out, feeling the faint scrub of his stubble, the same you’d feel if he’d kiss you first thing in the morning, even if he had been clean shaven the night before, she wouldn’t guess.

And that was why she kissed you gently.

You imagined Steve would kiss like this too, at least at the start.

Gingerly, without pressure until he had your full consent, and always like you were something precious. Maybe like you were something his. His large hand would be on your neck, long fingers tipping your chin back to tilt your head to his liking, lips parting slowly, wordlessly asking you to do the same, just to get a taste, to kiss you deeper, know you better, his other hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing your body closer to his, until it would be hard to tell where his body ended and your started.

You blinked your eyes open, panting softly, met with the sight of Bonnie’s satisfied smile. You were acutely aware of how your pupils were blown wide – a convenient effect of what you imagined – and how it played into her delusion perfectly.

She licked her lips, stroking your jaw lightly before smiling wider.

“So good,” she repeated, content. “Now I suppose we can play the twenty questions. What would you like to know?”

→ Next part

Series masterlist // Steve Rogers masterlist // Misc masterlist

I told myself I WOULDN’T post a chapter with a five-digit word count and I failed 🙄 Ah, well😂

I know, this one has been long and heavy for me too, but this time it felt just wrong to split it in two… I hope you enjoyed 💕

[pokeexehasstoppedworking]

Diamond In The Rough Ch7 Settling Down In Circhester P2

(Warning: Reader's hand gets burnt a little bit by hot chocolate and someone tries to take a swing at Gordie but no contact is made. Thank you to everyone who commented on what pokemon they wanted on where I post my stories. I was only able to pick three from what everyone commented and I did it at random. Here's the ones we'll get going along with the story. Scolipede, mightyena, and glacion. Know all I need is names and genders. Tell me which ones you prefer for which pokemon.)

Things were going well for you at this moment in time.

Your notes and books from Sonia arrived and you were able to work on that one report you'd surely have one problem with for later when the school year kicked back up in a few months. There was also talks of some other GIANT projects you worked on a little bit, you'd wouldn't have to worry about it knowing what they were about before hand. The only good thing you could say about her. There was two or three other big projects you'd have to worry about but you'd be able to take care of most of them by yourself in your spare time. By the time you got back from your weekend of taking care of your pokemon and doing that small project of yours, your job was still pretty busy. Except for Wednesday night, that night was really REALLY busy seeing as it WAS Circhester's Foundation Day. The whole town was filled with food vendors, people partying, noise, and lots and LOTS of people going in and out of the cafe for food and drinks and it was like a there was a monsoon of people spawning outside with out many times people went in and out cramming against the walls or even waiting in lines that went almost all the way to the door. Safe to say both yourself and Sapphire were BEAT rushing to grab napkins, shovel out drinks, rushed to ring out people, meanwhile in the back kitchen you could literally HEAR Bobby and Billy Bob shouting at one another over the noise of pots and pans and sizzling foods that they struggled to chuck out into your arms to serve to customers. At one point you had to stop to go do other things while Sapphire tried to handle the crowds while you were gone, fighting against the crowd to grab dishes and clean tables, going into the back to grab MORE to-go Styrofoam boxes and bags, more clean dishes from the dishwater, more food or drinks for shouting customers- Now you knew why the two chefs wanted to hire more help. Sheesh. At least most of the orders were to go anyways so you all could just give someone their food and they'd leave only to let another person take their place. Sigh. But...GOOD NEWS!! Luckily it seemed things were starting to wind down because while it was still crowded and tiring, there was starting to get less people now. Bad news....It was already after closing time. Bob's Your Uncle closed at five pm. It was already midnight now and it doesn't look like anything would be dying down soon. You were starting to get tired and your feet were starting to be sore and your stomach growled from not being able to eat for a while. Sigh. Oh well. At least the tips were plentiful. You had just handed a woman a styrofoam box with a curry inside it and waited for her to move before groaning and stretching your back with a pop. By now it had gotten dark, late, and loud bangs were coming from outside. Fireworks most likely. It would be super cold by the time you got back, you just hoped that none of your pokemon would cause any trouble while you were gone. Meanwhile a middle aged woman who looked like she had seen a make up tutorial 'not for beginners' and tried to do it herself only to end up looking like a clown, and a haircut that looked like a monkey cut for her walked up to your counter with a face looking like she was angry and just bitten a lemon right after. You of course smiled and was about to ask what she wanted when too brightly painted nails snapped at you making you full on stop.

"Hey! Give me a hot chocolate! And make it snappy! I don't have time to deal with you today!"

That...certainly caught you off guard but you quickly forced a smile and exchanged a stunned look with Sapphire just for a moment before she was forced to tend to yet another customer walking up to her. With an inhale you turned to the coffee machine area behind you still forcing that smile.

"Would you like a size large, Ma-"

"OF COURSE I WANT A LARGE!!," her shrill voice shrieked at you like a broken record making you wince as it battered your eardrums, "When someone orders a hot chocolate of course they want it large with everything on it unless they say something else! Are you dense or something?!"

Sapphire gave another look as you had to will yourself not to crush the styrofoam cup in your grasp and to just make the darn hot chocolate. Just make it. JUST. MAKE. IT. And hand it to her so she'll go away and leave you alone. You know recognized this woman as someone every store owner feared. A Karen. Just give her the darn hot chocolate and get her out of here. So you got the large and HOT sugary drink full of more sugary whipped cream and marshmallows and just held it out for her with a forced smile.

"Here you go! That'll b-"

"IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!!" The cup was snatched from your hand so fast the contents from the cup rocked and some spilt from your hand.

Immediately the hot liquid hitting your hand made you have a reaction.

"AH!!" It was like a mini volcano went off and spewed lava all over your hand, despite it only being maybe a small teaspoon's worth of hot coco, but it was still enough to make you cry out and pull your hand back to clutch it.

"Y/n!," Sapphire shouted and whirled back around to you when you shouted eyes wide. "Oh my gosh! Are you ok?!"

"My hand got burnt!," you shouted back hissing and then looking at your hand. A few trickles of liquid fell down your hand when you unfurled your fist, and stared in shock at the now lighter pink looking parts on your hand from where the liquid drink hit it and you gaped in shock....before it quickly got replaced with anger. "YOU LITTLE-" You had snapped your head up back to yell at the woman but she was gone. Replaced with yet another customer who looked annoyed at waiting for you but didn't say anything. "WHAT THE!?" You scanned the crowd of people for any signs of her. "Where'd that slimy weasel go!? She didn't even tip me!!"

"I don't know," Sapphire replied also looking around but stopped when realizing something. "...But she didn't pay either!"

True to her word the woman was gone as neither of you could see her through the still crowded place, making you even MORE mad. "RRR!! GREAT!! HOW COULD THIS NIGHT GET ANY WORSE!?"

"Wait...What's that sound?"

.....

......

Maybe you shouldn't have asked that-

You both looked towards the door in question as what sounded like a heavy rain came forward, and the door was pushed open to let the source of the noise come in. And both you and Sapphire's eyes POPPED open comedically as a HUGE tidal wave of people started walking in pushing the already big crowd like the last wave of a boss fight in a video game. You were half expecting boss music to start playing. As the crowd started rolling in you just stood there and stared clutching your still sore hand. It was like a sudden reality hit you. All the exhaustion from the last few hours just dealing with all the people annoyed without a break and without sleep, constantly on your feet and now your hand throbbed with some pain-...Well it hit you like another tidal wave with the arrival of so much more shouting and people grumbling for late night meals demanding to be made to help them combat the cold outside. Sapphire had an almost equally horrified look on her face before it deflated into tired defeat and she could only tiredly let go of you and turn her attention to the first person who annoyedly demanded she get him a black coffee that instant. Well sounds almost blurred together as you just started and felt something gather in your eyes.

"Y/n!" An almost angelic voice shouted out to you and you blinked looking up to the bulky figure who pushed his way through the crowd and was now leaning against the counter with his sunglasses off staring at you. "Hey. Are you alright? You're crying."

You were what-..

Instead of answering your good hand reached up to wipe at your face. Yes. The man who spoke to you, was in fact, Gordie the gym leader. Why was he here instead of tending to his party?...Well to answer that the party was dying down to be honest, it was late and since the fireworks were the man attraction thar was over with, about everyone was heading home now including him, but he wanted to stop by and see how his friend was doing (NOT because his heart was beating a mile a minute at the thought of you-) but he hadn't been expecting the giant crowd in here or the sight of you crying lightly. When he pushed his way to the front he was smiling expecting to see you there, but had been completely thrown for a loop when he caught the sight of your current state. Leaning with your back against the wall with slight bags under your eyes, hair frizzy, clutching your hand, and crying lightly. You had looked shocked when he had gotten your attention but had quickly wiped your eyes and forced a smile when you saw him.

"H-Hey, Gordie. W-What's up?"

...He blinked. "What's up with me? What's up with you?" He asked gesturing to you. "You look a right wreck!"

"Well, working none stop all day and seven hours after you were supposed to go home will do that to you."

"Seven hours!? Why didn't your bosses close up shop by now!?" You were still working?? AT MIDNIGHT!? He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he asked at how stunned he was.

"I don't know i-if they can."

"Why?"

In response your good hand gestured to the shouting people around you with a defeated look. "Too many people. We're already back up as it is!" You practically shouted back to him. "I can barely hear you right now."

At first Gordie gave a look of almost disbelief but then a calm face washed it away. Which was strange but at this point you were too tired to care. But you watched none the less as the Gym leader just calmly turned back to the crowd and stopping...taking a long, LONG moment at the people around him all. Before he proceeded to do something you all weren't expecting at all. He ever so slowly lifted a hand to his mouth to place two of his fingers to it. What was he doing- And then he proceeded to give THE. LOUDEST. WHISTLE!! You had ever heard in your life. It made you wince and sink into yourself closing one eye, but it seemed to work for everyone else too because immediately everyone talking or shouting, the closest ones to him even ducking and having their hands fly up to their ears. The dreaded sound only lasted for maybe five seconds, but it had an instant silence afterwards. Everyone staring in his direction or too busy rubbing their sore eardrums in the aftermath.

"ALRIGHT!!" A hand was thrown up and if Gordie didn't have everyone's attention before he sure did now. "PARTY'S OVER!! Everyone out!!" Immediately afterwards a murmur of complains and groans came from the crowd. You heard some 'ah man's and 'You gotta be kidding me!'s and one or two 'But I've been waiting here for hours's included at the end, but that only made the gym leader scowl deeper. "I SAID BUGGER OFF!! It's late enough! For Arceus's sake, it's the middle of the bloody night! Ya can make your own drinks at home! Anyone else already eatin' hurry up and pay your tabs!"

More murmurs until one man in the front frowned and said, "I'm getting my coffee! I've been standing here for twenty minutes!" He snapped back to both you and Sapphire and shouted again. "Why don't I have it yet!?"

"Because they're overworked and there's too many people here that can't see it!," Gordie countered back giving this man a particular look. "If you're that desperate for it mate, make your own pot at home.''

"I said I want my coffee!! And I'm not leaving here until I have it!!", He shrieked into Gordie's face, and to the gym leader's credit he remained calm just looking at the slightly taller man.

"'Lright, bud. Back it up." He held up his hands and started to herd the man back from the counter. "These girls are overworked and need some rest n' by the way yer actin' so do you. Go home."

His response was to take an actual swing at the gym leader but what proceeded to happen next shocked you again. Gordie like an expect easily side stepped the clumsy swing and with his left hand grabbed the man's arm, yanking the man to hunch over before his right arm quickly darted over to hook around the guy's neck. And the end result was that the man yelled curse words at Gordie, now finding himself held in a headlock against Gordie's side flailing uselessly like a fish out of water.

"Maybe ya didn't hear me clearly," he yelled louder than you had ever heard him yell before at the crowd. "I SAID EVERYONE GET OUT!!"

Everyone stood stunned for a moment but when the Gym leader started marching his way towards the door with the man still cussing him out and that seemed to motivate everyone else because they either stepped aside or began flocking to the door to get out of his way. Soon the large crowd started to file their way out one after the other and you could only stand there staring....before sliding down the wall until you sat upon the ground and gave a GIANT side of relief. It was as if a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Thank you Arceus. Arceus just THANK you for finally giving you a break. Sapphire practically collapsed against the counter with a half choke half dry chuckle looking like her body would fall over from being made of jello. After a moment the door opened again with a ding from the bell and this time he was...silent. His form paused and blinked for a moment not seeing Y/n anymore before he slowly walked up to the counter and peeked over blinking at your form just sitting tiredly on the floor.

"....Where's the owners?"

Sapphire pointed a thumb behind her where you could still faintly hear the sounds of pots and pans coming from the back kitchen. Gordie again didn't say anything after that but you were surprised to see him literally place one hand on the counter before jumping over it and you blinked when he just...waltzed on into there like he freaking owned the place. You silently sat there and listened. The pots and pans stopped. And there was silence again-

"WHY DIDN'T YOU CLOSE!?"

Sapphire yelped nearly tripping over as you both stared wide eyed at the doors, an angry yell coming from behind the kitchen. If you both were surprised, you couldn't imagine how surprising it was to the chefs to see a Gym Leader just walk into their kitchen.

"I WALK ON IN HERE N' ALL I SEE IS AN OCEAN WORTH OF PEOPLE BACKED UP ALL THE WAY OUTSIDE!! AND THEN I FIND OUT YOUR SERVERS WERE OVERWORKIN' UNTIL MIDNIGHT!! ONE OF YOU BETTER GIVE ME A BLOODY RIGHT GOOD ANSWER TO THIS!!"

You...unfortunately could NOT make out what Bobby or Billy Bob were saying because it was muffled and not as loud as Gordie's yelling. But you made out a few snippets. "-e didn't mean..." and ''not fault..." and what you maaaayybe thought was ''-ard for us''.

"OH!! HARD FOR YOU!? THE ONE WHO'S SITTIN' IN A CHAIR IN FRONT OF A GRILL LEAVIN' JUST TWO PEOPLE TO DO EVERYTHING ELSE WITH ANGRY CUSTOMERS!!"

One of them said something that sounded like ''-n't mind-"

"THIS IS WHY CIRCHESTER HAS A LAW ABOUT WHAT TIME STORES CLOSE ON HOLIDAYS!! YOU TWO KNOWINGLY BROKEN THAT LAW AND AS A RESULT TWO PEOPLE SUFFERED!! YOU'RE BLOODY LUCKY IF I DON'T DRAG YA OUT AND SERVE YOU TO OFFICER JENNY ON YOUR OWN SILVER PLATTER!! NOW GET YOUR BUTTS INTO GEAR AND GET THIS PLACE CLEANED UP!! I WANT IT CLOSED DOWN!! RIGHT!! NOW!! AND IF I FIND OUT EITHER OF YOU TWO PULL SOMETHING LIKE THIS AGAIN, 'BOB'S YOUR UNCLE' WILL BECOME 'BOB WENT OUT OF BUSINESS'!!"

Both of you still stared wide eyed at the door...before footsteps approached and the door swung open letting Gordie out. The gym leader stood there for a moment silently before inhaling and giving out a sigh and holding out his hands.

"Ladies! ...You officially have the REST of the week off. No need to thank me. Just grab your coats and head home."

You both remained quiet for a moment before Sapphire asked quietly, "Wat?"

"I said you both need to get out of here. Go on. Go HOME. Get some rest. Go to sleep. Get warm! All of that stuff! Take your pay for the night and vamoose."

"But...what about-"

"Those chefs seem pretty relaxed. I'm SURE they got plenty of energy to clean up their own mess."

"Oh thank you so much!," Sapphire all but practically sobbed and wobble-walked herself on tired legs away from the counter but you didn't have the energy to do so.

Gordie must've noticed because he squatted down next to your exhausted form and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Hey. Are you alright there?"

Tiredly you nodded quietly. "I just wanna go home."

"Yeah..Alright. C'mon," he said as you felt an arm start to pry you away from the wall, "Let's get ya on your feet and get you home."

You were pushed up onto shaking feet and forced to walk on sore feet. It was a bit of a blur and you weren't sure how, but you managed to squeeze your coat on and found yourself tiredly trudging back through the snow and cold of Circhester at nearly one in the morning, until you kept stumbling from how slippery the ground was and how tired you were- Until on your third trip, you felt yourself become light as something just lifted you up and you found yourself staring face to face with Gordie carrying you bridal style through the snowflakes.

"G-GORDIE!? PUT ME DOWN!!"

"Relax. Jeez, you're more hard headed than a diamond."

After maybe a minute, you were tired to fight and just allowed him to carry you all the way to your hotel room. Imagine your pokemon's surprise when you were carried all the way in by the gym leader and gently placed down on the bed in your room gently before giving a frown.

"Hey...Are you alright?"

You tiredly nodded barely able to keep your eyes open now and reaching a hand up to your mouth as you yawned. "Ye-Yeah. I-I'll be...*yyyyaaaawwwnn* F-Fine. I just need to sleep...Thank you so much for the help."

He nodded with a concerned look. "'Course...Ya want me to stay with you or-"

You waved him off tiredly. "Honestly, no. I just wanna be left alone so I can sleep."

Again he nodded and stood back up. "Alright...It's late anyways. I should head back and make sure the crowd from the party's died down without any damages...Are ya sure you'll be alright?"

"Yeah...I'll be fine."

"Right. ..Goodnight then. I-I'll see myself out. Get some rest. Ok?"

Well he left and the first thing you did was clonk out then and there on your bed. Completely passed out into possibly the deepest sleep you've ever had. In fact it was so deep, that you didn't even wake up until the next day around eleven in the morning. When you woke, you were still wearing your coat with your hair all frazzled and you found four faces looking at you. Silver looked concerned. Zen was giving you a puzzled look. Sparky was just floating around telling you that you had slept through your alarm and was late for work. And Cerberus was sitting with a pout on his face and his food bowl in his mouth. He let out a whine before just letting the bowl drop from his muzzle with a clatter and barked at you clearly hungry for food.

"....Right. *yyyyaaaawwwwnn* 'M on it."

One shower and change of clothes later, you had fed the three pokemon and gave Sparky a battery to suck the life from as you just plopped yourself back on the bed. You were still tired and just wanted to sleep the rest of the day away if you could but you couldn't because just as you considered going back to sleep there was a loud knock at the door, which made you groan and drag yourself slowly from the bed. You slowly trudged towards the door and when you got close you noticed a delicious smell coming from the other side of the door. Room service?? But you hadn't ordered breakfast or lunch. Well you opened the door and was hit with the delicious smells of ...bannanas?? And Hot chocolate? Well on the other side of the door was none other than Gordie, and in his hands was a small styrofoam box and cup containing said foods. He stood there but smiled when he saw you open the door.

"Hey, Y/n. Good mornin'!..Or should I say afternoon?"

"Gordie?," you asked blinking confused, "What are you doing here?"

"Well I just checked on Sapphire to make sure she was doing ok after last night-"

Oh right..That actually happened! "Is she alright!?"

"She's fine. Just tired and somewhat cranky. I just finished up evrything else so I wanted to drop by and make sure you were alright."

You gave another tiny yawn. "I'm fine thanks. Just a bit tired, but I feel a lot better now. But why do you have that?" You asked gesturing to the food.

"Oh! Well my Ma heard about what happened last night and she made ya this." He held out the food to you. "It's sweet tropical curry, and hot chocolate. Maybe a bit more on the junk food side o' the spectrum, but it's sure to make a good lunch on a cold day."

"Oh..How nice!" You smiled and stepped aside. "Come in."

"Huh? Oh thanks." He stepped right in and was greeted with your small herd. "Ah. I see that Houndoom of yours is lookin' better."

"Yeah. The food and exercise are really working wonders." You closed the door and walked on over to him taking the food. "Tell your mom thanks for the food. And I can't thank you enough for what you did for us last night. I swear I'd still be there working my feet off if you hadn't stepped in."

"Hey. No thanks needed. My ma would've done the same thing if no one had shut it down. There's a reason we have a law in Circhester that prevents stores from stayin' open late on any holidays. The crowds like to gather big and then it causes problems for the small businesses that can't handle the hoards of people! It happens every Halloween and Christmas! I can't believe they'd pull somethin' like that after that got some new help!...*sigh* Don't worry. I made sure to swing by earlier today and make sure they knew not ta do it again. I'm pretty sure they got my message good."

"I hope they don't fire me-"

"They won't," he stated bluntly looking at you, "If they do they know they'll be in BIG trouble, you on the other hand don't have to worry about a thing. You get to enjoy the rest of the week off so no worries."

"Ah. Well that's one good thing." It was then at that moment that your stomach growled and you let out an embarrassed chuckle. ''All this talk about the cafe is making me hungry. I wanna try this food out! Smells delicious."

You smiled and held up the food and it was at THAT exact moment he froze. Eyes in full view of your hand and then his eyes widened- "What the- W-W-What happened to your bloody hand!?" He asked pointing to your hand and it was then you turned to the now MOSTLY faded light pink marks on your hands.

Aw crap. You forgot about that. "Oh yeah." You scowled at your hand for a moment. "Some old hag decided to spill her drink on me and burnt my hand a bit."

"SHE BURNT YOUR HAND!?"

"It's not too bad," you assured him as he no gained a panicked look, "It doesn't hurt anymore and it'll go away in a couple days. I'm more mad she didn't pay than anything else- Wha- HEY! GORDIE!!"

He didn't even bother to listen to the last part of your ranting before he literally but gently removed the food from your hands and quickly shoved it onto a small side table and you froze when he grabbed your hand. Blue eyes squinted from behind those sunglasses as his hands gently held yours to his face...and you blinked. F/c eyes watched as he gave a look to the back of your hand before gently turning it over to give a look over at the bottom of your palm. For someone who could throw out someone in a headlock his grip was..soft. Gentle even as he gazed across your hand for a moment. Seeming to examine each part of it like how a scientist would examine a new cell particle, until eventually he slowly turned it back over to where the light pink was the most...and he sighed.

"'S not serious. Thank Arceus," he mumbled in relief.

"I mean...Yeah. It was only a little bit. I'm still mad tho." He hummed again before one of his hands released yours and reached into his coat pocket to pull out a small toothpaste looking tube and held it out to you. "What's that?"

"Burn cream. I've noticed a while ago that a lot of my guests tend to get burnt by hot drinks, and being an older brother you kinda get used to three lil brothers always making messes and causin' trouble. You wouldn't believe the amount of times they spilt things all over me. Nowadays I always carry one or two of these on me in case anyone ever needs it."

"Oh I think I believe you." You could still clearly remember one of Gordie's brothers making Allister spill his own drink the year before. "But...thank you." With a soft smile that made him pink you happily took the small tube from him happily. "That's really kind of you. You've actually been really nice to be lately and a big help. I wish there was some way I could make it up to you-"

"A-Actually.." His face felt pink- No. RED as he gulped down the rock in his throat letting it travel to his stomach letting the heavy feeling sink in. Especially when you blinked back at him. "I-I was wonderin' i-if ya- W-Well- ONLY IF YOU WANNA 'COURSE!! Y-Y-YOU'RE TOTALLY FREE TO SAY NO!!" You blinked at his sudden increase in pitch as he wanted to suddenly punch himself in the face for that embarrassing moment. "I mean if you wanna-..I m-mean-...I-I remember when you came 'round with Piers a lil while back! W-W-When ya helped us o-out with those dynamaxed pokemon..I a-a-asked ya to dinner b-b-but understandably you were a b-bit busy at the moment. S-So..m-m-maybe i-if you only wanna that is...Maybe you'd l-like to ha-have that dinner...With me?"

You continued to silently stare at him. And he shrinked into his coat under the staring. HOLY ARCEUS HE MESSED THIS UP!! WHY'D HE EVEN DECIDE TO ASK AT THIS TIME!? He wanted to ask you last night so he went to see you but then the whole incident last night happened and he asked without thinking this through at all! OF COURSE YOU'D BE IN NO SHAPE TO SAY YES!! HOW COULD HE LET THAT FLY OVER HIS HEAD!? Granted he-...was kinda interested in this for a while. Dinner with Y/n he meant. Sure he showed some interest in other girls before but he never felt like-...THIS before. Not so...intrigued by your sudden boldness and bluntness and how pretty you were and how you didn't seem to give him special treatment and got through his thick skull and how nice you were and how you helped his slowly start to regain his family he missed so much and how much patience, care, understanding, and genuine emotion- OH ARCEUS HE WAS STILL STARING LIKE AN IDIOT!! He cursed himself eternally for going off on a puppycrush rant inside his head as he unknowingly stared at you still like an idiot making his face even REDDER in comparison to his pale white-blonde hair. You however took a LOT longer to process what he was asking you...and it seemed like everything about his behavior clicked now and your f/c eyes widened in realization.

"...Gordie," you slowly asked making him flinch, "Just so we're clear. Are you...asking me out?"

OH SWEET ARCEUS HE WAS GONNA GET REJECTED SO FAST!! RIP RAIHAN!! HE'S ABOUT TO KNOW HOW HE FELT!! he only slowly gulped again. "Um....Y-Yeah?"

"Oh. Ok then! What time?"

RECORD SCRATCH-

His mind blanked for a moment. "......wot..."

"I said sure. When do you wanna go out?," you calmly responded with a smile.

Again he could only stare. ".....Did you just say bloody YES to ME!?"

"Yes?," you slowly asked raising a brow. "Is that surprising?"

"W-WHY THO!?"

"Because you asked nicely? And you're really nice so why not? At least you're not being really pushy about it like Raihan was...I still need to talk to him about telling others about my business without asking." Gordie opened his mouth, closed it, and just had trouble processing this. "Are you ok there?"

"HOW ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS?!"

You gave him a deadpanned look now. "Gordie. I have dealt with being bowled over by Milo's wooloo, dropped from the sky into a corviknight's nest, falling out of a tree, living with THE worst mom ever, battling against two legendary pokemon TWICE, stopping powerful rich dudes who think they can just use said legendary pokemon to run rampant, getting hit in the head by a roof tile and ending up in the hospital, THE worst room mate to ever exist, almost getting my face getting bit off by a houndoom, and having Raihan and two hairdo weirdos flirt with me and genuinely make me uncomfortable!" Gordie stared. "I think being asked out by you is the least shocking thing I've ever had to deal with up to this point." You left out the magically transported into a video game world part out for obvious reasons.

He raised a hand and opened his mouth-...Before slowly lowering it. "Ah..Well when you put it that way..*cough cough*." He straightened back up. "So uh-...T-Tomorrow works for you?"

"Friday? Sounds great! Can't wait for my first date."

AGAIN RECORD SCRATCH-

"Hold up!...First date? As in-...Y-You never went out with someone before?!"

"No not really. But I'm sure it'll be fine with you..." You paused looking down. "Um..Gordie."

"Y-Yeah?"

"You're still holding my hand."

In an instant he looked down, saw his hand holding yours, freaked out, let go, and immediately began freaking out even more. "I-I-IM SO SORRY!! I DIDN'T REALIZE!! IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN I PROMISE!!" His face deepened a red the more you smiled at him.

"Hey it's ok."

"No it's not! I was h-holding your hand without permission and we haven't even had a proper date yet," he insisted before he again paused and then grabbed his hair. OI!! GORDIE YOU BLOOMING DUMMY!! "I-I-I HAVEN'T EVEN THOUGHT IT THROUGH THIS FAIR!!!" Before you could even say anything he held up his hands and backed away. "D-Don't worry! I'll have everything ready! Don't worry about it-" And then he quickly turned on his heel to zip out the door- Only to forget the door was closed and full on smack into the door with a loud thud. "OW!!" A hand grabbed his face. Mumbling curses to himself, he grabbed the doorknob throwing the door open before turning with a nervous smile and giving you his signature salute. "Don't worry 'bout anything! I'm fully in control! Just leave it all ta me!"

You only watched as he proceeded to trip over the doorframe on his way out leaving the door partially opened as you stood there blinking....before you again smiled and laughed his response. You weren't sure how this date was supposed to go but it would sure be-....

THIRD RECORD SCRATCH-

A date. You just agreed to have your first date with GORDIE in less than twenty four hours and you have absolutely no idea how a date was supposed to go.

"....SPARKY!! CALL SONIA!! I NEED ADVICE NOW!!!"

[space-helen]

Where Have You Been? - Chapter 2

Words: 1443

Pairing: Jack Thompson x Reader

A/n: I re-read this part and it moves pretty quickly but yeah! More to come :)

PART 1 - CH1      CH2        CH3       CH4     CH5

PART 2 - CH6       CH7       CH8       CH9     CH10

PART 3 - CH11     CH12    CH13

________________________

A fire of a gun before everything was deadly silent. The whole bank had come to a stop Thankfully you’d gotten all of the civilians out of the building before the man had arrived. He was a tall average looking man with angular features and grey- slowly balding hair. He held his gun and took more steps through the bank.

You kept your eyes from directly looking at him to not draw suspicion. But he soon was walking over to you and grabbed you. Of course he did, you were the only woman here and he needed an actual hostage, an easy target.

Dragging you to the counter he kept an arm wrapped around your chest, border on neck to keep you in place. Stumbling as the two of you went, he turned to everyone in the room, back to the counter before raising the gun to your head. “If anyone tries anything, I’ll shoot her, no hesitations.” you could see that the Agents were on edge but they were all unmoved. Glancing to the Chief you could see concern deeply set in his eyes. The man jostled you roughly before turning to the banker, demanding he hand over money and a key.

You waited a moment and slightly moved yourself into a better position for your next movements. As he bent forward to pick up some money you quickly kicked his legs out from underneath him, bent under and out from his arms and smashed his face into the counter, before forcing him to the floor and pressing his hands to the back of his head. You pulled your gun out and kept it trained on him. The maneuver had only taken mere seconds. 

You felt two hands on your shoulders to get you away from the man as some other Agents cuffed him and yanked him to his feet, blood was dripping from his nose and his eyes were red. “Good work Y/L/N” Chief Thompson tapped your shoulder and passed you, grabbing the man’s bicep and dragging him to the car. 

Jack had to admit he’d taken you on the mission out of guilt but he did not regret it in the slightest, in not even a day you’d shown up most of the other men in the office. But not knowing what you’d been doing until now was still bothering him. “Take a seat, please” You obliged and sat opposite the man. “I want to start off by apologising for sweeping you to the side. I know we treated Marge wrong by doing that and I’m sorry that it happened again to you.”

You accepted the apology “Thank you Chief Thompson. I must admit I was hurt by it but I put it down to being new.”

“You did some really good work out there today. How are you still so good when you’ve not worked for the past two years. No practice and you can still pull moves like that? Hell most of the men here could be off for two days and come back rusty.”

You laughed it off “I was still working, just not in the way you’d expect. Anyway we have a suspect to interrogate you coming?” with that you leapt up from the chair and made your way to the interrogation room. Jack followed you but the words ‘just not in the way you’d expect’ kept playing through his head.

Jack slipped into the viewing room as you sat opposite the suspect, a Mr Darryl Cook. He scoffed “They really sent a girl in here to talk to me?”

“I know you fought in the war Mr Cook but I also know you came out a different man as to what you went in.” 

“Oh yeah? What do you know about it.” You could see him getting agitated “Plenty I know that-” The man shoved the table forward and pinned you to the wall with it. You pushed back on the table and could see the anger radiating off the man. The interrogation room door was soon swinging open and Mr Cook was being thrown into the corner of the room.

“Y/L/N you ok?” the Chief pulled the table away from you his eyes searching your face as you watched the man in the corner. “C’mon step outside a second.” 

You listened to the man and pushed yourself up, following him into the corridor. “I should have cuffed him I’m so stupid.”

“Hey don’t worry about it. Are you ok though?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I’ve dealt with much worse.”

“You want me to take over? Scare the man up a little bit?”

“I’m perfectly capable of getting information out of him thank you.” you smiled patting the Chief on the chest as you walked back into the room, Cook had been cuffed to the table and the other Agent’s left, closing the door behind him.

You stood next to the table as you looked at the man. “Such a strong frightening soldier you are. You almost had me scared there.” you slipped into the seat and crossed your legs “Actually I’m just kidding you didn’t have me scared at all. From your files I know that I would have ranked higher than you.” The man looked confused “I was an Agent in the war, I know shocking a woman in the war. I went through vigorous training to get in, I saw and went through some horrible things. Saw things even more hideous and heinous than you could ever imagine, not much scares me now.”

You stood and paced the room. Chief Thompson still watching, curious as to the angle you were taking with the questioning. “But you’re scared of me aren’t you? I frighten you a lot” you stood next to the man and leant next to him, your hand on the desk. “You’re scared of what I might do next. You never expected me to take you down in the bank like that?” You got close to his ear “Did you?” The man flinched away from you, Jack was impressed this was even sending shivers down his spine.

“Tell me about your friends, why are you doing this?” you walked away from the desk you shoes the only sound in the room as you walked. “Who’s your boss? Everyone has a boss. I don’t see you to be at the top of the hierarchy at all.” you turned around to face him and paced back towards the table arms crossed around you. “But I don’t see you to be bottom tier either, you’re more like second or third from the bottom. Not quite scum but nearly there.”

You paused and left the silence, the man’s leg was bouncing up and down but he kept his eyes staring into the mirror. Slamming the table with your hands you shouted: “You’re disposable though.”

The man cracked, spilling information left right and centre and you didn’t even need to lay a hand on him. He practically confirmed that Mr Martin was the boss and told you that they needed money for a large building project but he wasn’t privy to know what was being built. You were right he was low tier. 

You left the man at the desk and made your way out into the corridor. The Chief waiting just outside, the two of you walked to his office together. “I know I’m a little rusty with interrogation. I haven’t done one in a while.” you laughed

“Rusty? You got that man to spill without touching him. Hell, I was even scared of you at one point.” 

You felt warmth rush to your face at the compliment. “Thank you, Chief.”

“Please just call me Thompson or Jack, we're off duty now anyway.” as you entered his office you noticed how dark it was outside. 

“What time is it?”

“7:30 which means it’s time for you to go home. Don’t worry you’ll get paid the overtime for today.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to fill out any paperwork from that investigation or review anything?”

“I’m sure. Y/L/N please just go home will ya?”

You smiled at the man and mock rolled your eyes “Alright Thompson I’m going.” You left the office and picked up your things from your desk. Jack watched you pack your things you turned to give him a small wave before leaving, he smiled genuinely and gave a small wave back. 

His eyes followed you as you walked away and the smile didn’t leave his lips for a second, he laughed under his breath and returned his attention to the file on his desk. 

Next Chapter

Tag List: (open)

Jack Thompson: @fandomsandxfiles @itsmissdahliahayward

All Marvel: @marvelsangels

[littlemisssquiggles]

Hey so this is my opinion but love to hear your take but I feel Watts might be Salem's more dangerous follower (for where the heroes are now) given he is been able to fly under the rader of the heroes unditected, able to make artifical tail of Tyrieon giving his deadly venom back and is able to hack into all of ATLAS Tech. He might not have any proper fighting skill but when he can have access to anything in a city in love with it's tech, he's the ideal sabatour.

Hello again Crystal. Complements of the season to you, fam! To answer your question, you are indeed correct in that regard. While Tyrian and Hazel are both worthy threats based on their strength, Watts being the mastermind in Salem’s army is why I find him the most interestingof her accomplices.

You’re right. While Watts doesn’t have the muscle power to hold his own in a fight, he does have the wits and the charisma to worm himself out of any tricky scenario. I have a great deal of admiration for that type of villain. I mean having power is great and all but a villain who is still able to succeed through clever tactics and the strength of their own mind by manipulating others into doing their bidding makes for a more compelling adversary in my book.

A part of me is looking forward to learning more about Watts’ backstory. Particularly his background with Ironwood and Pietro. After CH7 dropped and we got the reveal that Watts used to be one of Pietro’s colleagues, I made a tweet over on Twitter asking the following questions:

Since Pietro’s introduction, we’ve seen him walking around in his mobile wheelchair. A part of me has been curious about Pietro’s inability to walk. 

Has he always been physically disabled and worked past his impairment with his mind or…was it a result of a horrible accident meant to destroy him?

The impression I got from Pietro’s story was since his Penny project was chosen by Ironwood above the others, a jealous-minded Arthur Watts became infuriated by this and sought out to sabotage Pietro’s project while taking his revenge out on Ironwood and all of Atlas in the process.

A part of me wondered if Watts’ alleged “death” was caused by him attempting to ruin Pietro in a move that claimed the lives of Pietro’s other colleagues as well as costed him his legs or…were Pietro’s former colleagues actually accomplices of Watts who he manipulated into helping him thwart Pietro’s project which resulted in everyone else dying except Watts?

I’m very curious about that. Watts has been shown to have a way with words. So I’m wondering if part of the reason why Salem sought after him was, not just for his mind, but also his ability to charm others into doing whatever he wants like her.

I really, really hope we get  like some kind of flashback episode or explanation revealing Penny’s ‘birth’, Watts’ descent and supposed death and more importantly, how Watts met Salem. I’m wondering if it was actually Tyrian who scouted Watts on Salem’s behalf. I remember reading through the enhanced report on Tyrian with details on his backstory and how he met Salem. I find it incredibly fascinating how Salem and chooses her allies.

It shows just how much Salem has eyes everywhere. Like how did she know about Tyrian? How did she know about Watts to pick him of all people? Seriously I hope we get some background information on Watts’ story. I think I need that to be its own little episode by itself that jumps between the present and the past (in a similar fashion to the Kunoyuri episode from V4). But that’s just what I’m hoping for.

For now, yeah, Watts is Salem’s most intimidating accomplice and pairing him together with Tyrian to work together in Atlas was an even deadlier combination.

Colour me intrigued for what’s next to come in V7CH9. Are we going to receive a continuation of the events of CH8? Or will be similar to the start of CH7 where all we see is the aftermath?

Weiss once commented back in V7CH3 that without aura or proper heating, the cold of Solitas can kill the average individual in a matter of minutes. So is that what’s going to happen for the remaining five episodes?

Is it going to be a race against the clock to restore heat to Mantle before it’s too late while evacuating as much citizens up to Atlas as possible or…is Ironwood just going to return from his meeting with the Council at the Schnee Dinner to reports of multiple Mantlese citizens found frozen to death in the streets of Mantle—children as well as adults—as a result of the heatinggrid (or whatever it’s called) shutting down on Ironwood’s watch.

What’s stopping Jacques from pinning the blame for that incident on Ironwood yet again?

 I bet Jacques is just waiting right now to blame James allocating resources to the Amity Tower project that could’ve been used to better Mantle and prevent this unexpected issue.

Overall, CH9 will be a very interesting episode to watch. Moreover, I’m curious to know what else does Watts have planned to further ruin Ironwood’s integrity with the People of Mantle and Atlas in preparation for Salem’s inevitable arrival.

I still feel as if Watts’ plan is strip Ironwood of all his power so that Jacques can take his place; controlling both the kingdom and its military since I think Jacques will personally see to it that James loses all of his power including his authority within the military with Winter possibility being appointed as his temporary replacement or perhaps it’ll be Clover.

This also makes me wonder if this will be the part where Clover ends up ‘betraying’ Ironwood. 

While I like Clover as a character, the impression that I’ve mostly heard with him from the FNDM is that he could potentially be a traitor working with Watts.

While I’m not sure about the traitor part, I do stand by the concept of Clover switching sides and not really catering for loyalty anymore once James is taken out of power. After all, Clover (and by extension all of the Ace Ops) is nothing more than an attack dog trained to serve whoever is in charge without any real personal attachments, correct?

Despite voicing that he trusts Ironwood with his life, I can’t help but shake the icky feeling in my gut that Clover only trusts Ironwood due to his authority and status within the Atlas community. So the instant that’s stripped away from James, so goes Clover’s respect for him.

Like I’m just picturing Jacques usurping James, relinquishing him of his status as Headmaster of Atlas Academy and General of the Atlas Military and demanding his immediate arrest and Clover just goes along with it. 

And not as a ruse either. He just arrests James without hesitation, even going so far as to say that his duty is to serve his kingdom and since James was a current threat to his kingdom, he had no choice but to follow orders. Even if they were coming from someone like Jacques. Or who knows? Perhaps this could be a moment of character development for Clover? Something he and Qrow can have conflict with.

What matters more in the end? Loyalty out of duty or loyalty out of friendship?

Perhaps this could be something for Qrow to teach/advise Clover about for a change and it could FINALLY be what reminds him of his relationship with Oz. 

Because what I just realized is Qrow and Clover’s similarities in terms of their relationships with the men they respect and serve. 

While Clover seems to follow Ironwood and trust him out of a sense of duty and respect, Qrow followed Oz out of...possibly admiration and friendship?

Because at the end of the day, I think that’s what hurt Qrow the most. He didn’t just lose his faith in someone he just blindly served. He lost the trust of someone he obviously cared alot about. A man he was proud to call his friend once upon a time.

I actually would really like for this subplot to happen now just for the sake of having it lead into Qrow being reminded of his relationship with Oz and what it meant to him more than just having someone who gave him a good purpose in the world despite being dealt such a heavy hand.

So there’s that concept. Anyways, that’s enough theorizing and jibberjabbering from me for now. I guess we’ll see how things will go when V7 resumes for the new year. Unless Forest of #FRWBY got anything cool to drop for us before that.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[arcanesupern0va]

Rick In The Water; Ch8: What It Is To Burn

Summary: Morty's actin' pretty weird my friend, wonder what's up with that.

A/N:   A L S O, sorry for the delay, but I was having a really hard time trying to figure how I wanted to do where the ending was originally heading. BUT I'm much happier with this chapter and the way the story goes with my change to the chapterter and the next one go hand in hand so it'll pick up exactly where this one leaves off. CW: Violence against Mortys? Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 6186

My ao3

Masterlist

|Ch7: Shameful Metaphors|

+Nova+

After the assault on the Citadel, Rick and I spent most days holed up in his garage or out with Morty adventuring. Ryan would try stopping by a couple of times to try catching me but most of the time Rick and I were so wrapped up in whatever issue of the week we were dealing with that I happily pushed seeing him back to a later date. I was hanging around Rick so much I barely saw Beth even though every morning I could depend on her leaving a cup of coffee for me on the coffee table as I woke up.

“Please, please just let me set you up in Jerry’s office. I promise he doesn’t use it,” she would insist every morning to my refusal and Jerry’s ire. Jerry stopped really arguing after a while at Beth’s less than amused reminders of his joblessness. I would insist the TV helped me sleep and I hated that I was taking up space in her house at all. She always relented, saying she was just glad I finally got away from Ryan.

I didn’t know how to explain to her why I preferred sleeping on the couch. How was I supposed to tell her I liked that Rick, in a rare show of affection, would come sit next to me and play with my hair until he couldn’t stay awake any longer? That Rick and I were three seasons deep into a binge of Cornless? That her father and I were in lo-

No, not necessarily… that.

Despite my craving to hear them for longer than I had ever even realized, we hadn’t even talked about it. I didn’t doubt them though, in every light kiss, in every spared glance, they were so goddamn apparent. Rick wasn’t one to be touchy-feely with emotions and after years of emotional beatdowns every time I showed an iota of emotion, neither was I.

One afternoon, we were sitting at his workbench in near silence while he tweaked his latest invention and I desperately searched for a new job. The hunt was going dismally, despite my years of experience.

“Hey babe, don’t worry about,” he murmured in my ear, causing me to jump out of my skin. Somehow without me even noticing, he’d rolled his chair around the workbench to me. “You can just help me out all day,” he assured me, kissing the top of my head gently before rolling back over to his invention. “Check this out.” Smiling, he extended a small tube out, leaving me to stare at it in confusion.

“What even is that?” I asked bluntly, causing his smile to droop slightly.

“I-It’s an enhancement for my arm. This body came with some upgrades,” he told me as though it would be the most obvious thing in the world. As I continued surveying it, even taking it into my hand to inspect it closer, he continued, “It’s a new barrel for my arm mounted pistol. I’m trying to make it even more accurate.” He snatched it out of my hand, returning to work on it protectively.

“This is why I can’t just help you out all day. I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.” I told him flatly.

“I-I could show you,” he insisted, sliding his chair over to the large utility shelf next to the garage door.

“Rick, do you really want to spend every second of every day with me?” I asked with the same flat tone.

“N-No, of course not,” he stammered, digging through the boxes.

“Then I need to get a job, I have to at least help Beth with expenses if Jerry’s not going to.” He paused, seeming to consider my words for a moment before resuming digging. “Then we can just send Jerry to live with Ryan and Beth and I can just be nice lesbian parents to Morty, Summer, and Madi.”

“Trying to collect the full Sanchez set? Got me, now you’re going after Beth too?” He stopped digging through his current box, moving over to his workbench and pulling one down from the shelf above.

“Oh, I collected Beth a while ago,” I told him innocently. His eyes bulged for a moment so I elaborated with a carefree shrug. “Teenage years are a confusing time.”

“Oh, that’s… why’d you have to go and make it weird? That’s weird, you’re weird,” he recoiled, actually looking grossed out.

“We didn’t do anything,” I soothed him, “I was just fucking with you old man.”

“You’re still weird.”

“You like it.”

“Shut up.”

He abandoned his search and we fell back into a comfortable silence for a while. Rick started on another project, something that looked like a supersonic set of headphones and I went back to my job hunting. I was inches away from slamming the laptop shut in frustration when Morty stormed in, looking angrier than I had ever seen him.

“R-Rick, I want to redeem my adventure card,” he demanded, handing a small punch card out to Rick. I raised my eyebrow at Rick but he just rolled his eyes and handed the card back to Morty.

“I don’t feel like going out right now, kid,” he shrugged, turning back to his invention. The source of Morty’s irritation appeared at the door in the form of Jerry wearing a very serious expression.

“Come on, kiddo, I just wanted to talk to you about it,” Jerry explained, exasperated. “It’s a talk a man and his son have at some point-”

“Come on Nova, Morty. We have places to be,” Rick said flatly. Morty quickly pulled Rick’s portal gun out of his pocket, punching in a destination and opening a portal for us to disappear in, much to Jerry’s frustration.

*+*

“So what in the hell was that all about?” Rick asked gruffly, using a laser sword from his lab coat to try and fight his way through the dense thicket of the planet Morty had portalled us to. I had stopped asking questions about how he could always be so prepared a long time ago, I always got the same answer. When you’re good, you’re good.

“He wanted to have the ‘talk.’ Look, I’d rather not talk about it, Rick. I-I came out here to get away from it, not discuss it at length with you two.” Morty grimaced, not breaking his stride and using his anger to quickly work his way through the tall brush.

“Okay, rude. You wanna at least tell me where we are?” Rick asked, trying his hardest not to sound annoyed. I followed behind the two, letting their frustration with each other carve me a path.

“I just punched in random numbers,” Morty replied with a shrug. “I just wanted to get out of there. There’s gotta be something here that’s useful for you.” The bitter note in his tone had Rick and me exchanging glances before continuing after him.

“So, if Morty doesn’t know where the fuck we’re at, do you?” I asked Rick, my own irritation bubbling under the surface. He pulled out his space phone, typing into the screen quickly with a steadily more and more irritated expression growing on his face.

“I have no fucking clue,” he groaned, shoving the device back into his pocket. “Let’s just go somewhere else Morty, I-I’m not wasting my afternoon mowing some random fucking planets backyard.” He reached for his portal gun, only to find it missing from his pocket. I pointed to Morty when he shot me a look of confusion and further irritation bled onto it. “Come on asshole, give it back, let’s go,” he growled at his grandson, extending his hand expectantly.

“I’m not going back into that fucking house,” Morty shot back, holding out the portal gun for Rick to grab. He left it within his reach until the last moment, whipping it away from his grasp right as his fist had ready to grasp it. “I’m not going home. We’ll find something here,” he told him simply, forcing the portal gun into the waist of his jeans.

“Morty, he didn’t say anything about going home,” I told him softly, holding my finger up to Rick hoping to silence him before he could start berating my godson again. “We’ll just go somewhere else. It’ll be fi-”

“Nova, this is my fucking adventure.” Morty twirled around to face me, his usually kind face contorted with rage. “We’re going to find something here, got it?”

“H-Hey buddy, calm down,” Rick shot at his grandson, eyeing him carefully. “That’s your fucking aunt, d-don’t talk to her like that.”

“Wh-Whatever Rick. Y-Y-You’re so worried about her being my aunt until you’re trying to get in her p-pants.” Morty turned to Rick, eyes burning with rage.“Then it’s totally fine, right Rick? All because you’re in l-love with her or something equally as stupid? F-Fucking hypocrite.”

“Fuck you, Morty,” Rick shot darkly, not meeting my gaze. “I haven’t even fucked her, t-that’s not why she’s around you little piece of shit.”

“No, fuck you, Rick. L-Let’s just keep going alright?” Morty picked up his pace, going further ahead of us, mumbling under his breath.

“So, he’s a damn delight to be around today,” I murmured to Rick, brushing up against him to comfort him. He didn’t respond, storming off to catch up to Morty and continue his tirade leaving me to trail behind them alone.

We came across a dark cave, dripping with stalactites that almost came into the shape of a large vicious mouth. Totally not ominous at all and yet Morty was peering through the entryway eagerly. “Let’s check this place out.”

“Yeah Morty, we should absolutely check out the terrifying cave that literally looks like it’s about to eat us,” I told him sarcastically.

“Nova, it’s my adventure, we’re going,” he told me angrily before pulling out a flashlight and venturing further within. I looked to Rick quickly only to receive a shrug as he followed Morty into the gaping maw of a cave entrance. Had everyone just lost their goddamn minds today?

“Really great adventure Mo*uuurp*rty,” Rick complained lazily as we walked through the cave. Morty stormed ahead, only taking care to avoid any obvious potential hazards while Rick and I walked slowly, his flashlight only illuminating so much. “Maybe Satan himself will be down here and I can ask him why he sent me such a shitty grandson.” I smacked his arm earning me a glare before he continued. “You’re going to get Nova and I killed down here.”

“Maybe if Satan is down here I can him wh-who the fuck you think you are old man,” Morty growled over his shoulder.

“Something’s wrong with Morty, Rick,” I told him urgently. The ground beneath us was slippery so I grabbed onto his arm to keep myself steady.

“Yeah, I noticed that already, Nova. I’m trying to figure out what the little shit is up to,” Rick hissed, glancing down at my hand with a look of irritation.

“The fuck is your problem?” I asked, releasing his arm spitefully.

“Nothing Nova, just trying to focus on Morty at the moment, that’s all,” he said distracted, taking advantage of my release on him and hurrying after Morty.

“Rick!” I whispered sharply. “You have the fucking flashlight you fucking dick!” Inky darkness fell over me as Rick disappeared around a corner ahead of me. I tried my best to navigate through the pitch black, running into far more walls than intended. In a stroke of genius, I remembered my phone in my back pocket and pulled it out to activate its flashlight. I was greeted with the face of Morty contorted with rage as he knocked the device out of my hands and shoved me to the ground. “Morty, what the fuck?!” I shouted. He didn’t respond, instead, a hand extended in front of me, knocking me out with gas from a small aerosol can.

*+*

“Nova, wake up Nova,” a singsong voice murmured as I awoke to find myself tied to some kind of alter. Over twenty Mortys surrounded me, all staring at me, emotionless save for one who busied himself with a small bowl near my head. The stone altar was cool to the touch, sending chills down my spine.

“Morty, what the fuck are you doing?” I tried to fight the bind on my wrist, furious to find myself in this situation yet again. “Let me up goddammit.”

“Not yet Nova. Not until The One True Morty gets here with the bastard Rick,” the one closest told me emotionlessly.

“Th-The One True Morty?” I asked hysterically. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“In due time, Au-Aunt Nova,” he told me dismissively.

“I-Is that my Morty? The one that brought us down here?” I whispered, my anger being replaced by panic.

“In a word, no,” Bowl Morty grinned deviously as he finished up with whatever he was doing.

“Why did he bring us here?”

“All will be explained when The One True Morty arrives.”

And so I was left to sit, struggling in my binds as I waited for this One True Morty to appear. It seemed to drag on for hours and after the first hour, I started giving up, my wrists bloody and raw from constantly rubbing the coarse rope. I tried to dig for more answers to where I was, why I was here but the Mortys surrounding me remained silent. Content to watch me, no emotion emerged on their faces. Finally, almost blissfully, I heard a gruff voice berating a Morty. A voice I had grown far too accustomed to.

“Goddammit Morty, what in the hell are you doing?” Rick’s shouts echoed on the damp cave walls. He emerged through a low opening, his hands bound in front of him looking angrier than I’d ever seen him. His anger softened at the sight of me but as soon as it did it contorted again into an even uglier snarl. “What the fuck are you doing you fucking idiot? Let her go, whatever issues you fucking turds have are with me, leave her the fuck out of it.”

“Quiet,” the Morty leading him said quietly as he flicked his wrist softly, and to my surprise, it was quite effective. “Mortys, don’t allow him to get anywhere near that Nova.”

“M-Morty? You’re not my Morty. Where is my Morty?” I asked urgently.

“I’m surprised to see you care so much, I’ve been living with you for almost a month and you haven’t even noticed I wasn’t your Morty,” Morty said in a controlled voice. This Morty was an anomaly. Where my Morty was generally shy and nervous, this one was confident and meticulous. It was like he’d been body-snatched.

My eyes shot to Rick, who was wearing a look of furious disbelief but as he opened his mouth to speak, no sound came out. “What do you mean? What did you do to my Morty?” I asked in his stead.

“Nothing of consequence.” He paused and chuckled before changing the subject smoothly, “You know Nova, my version of you died when I was twelve. Seeing you hurt is not something I want, it’s just a necessary evil for right now. You are safe and you will return to your home when I’m finished here.”

“Wh-What are you doing Morty?” I asked nervously. “Why did you bring us here?”

“You know how my Nova died?” Morty asked, disregarding my questions. “Unsurprisingly, being a Nova with a Ryan, she was killed by him last year. Leave him, Nova. You’ll be better for it.”

“Morty, what are you doing? Why did you bring us here?” I asked again, my own rage forming in my gut.

“Rick, why don’t you tell her what we’re doing here,” he asked smugly, flicking his wrist again to allow Rick to speak.

“You little fucking piece of shit, I’ll fucking kill you. I should’ve killed all of those fucking Morty’s when I was at that piece of shit’s fucking lair-”

Another flick of Morty’s wrist and he was silent again. “I should thank you though Rick, thanks to you I can finally go after the Citadel as I wanted.” He led Rick to a crudely made computer set up, strapping him in as he tossed a helmet on his head, flicking his wrist. “Look familiar Rick?”

“Oh jesus fucking christ, this thing again. Still depending on that Rick’s inventions to get by?” Rick spat at him viciously. Morty laughed quietly, shaking his head.

“Oh, you stupid fucking bastard,” he chuckled, forcing the helmet on Rick’s head. “Make sure Nova can see,” he ordered the other Mortys. I was finally released, rubbing my wrists gently as the Mortys led me to the screen while still keeping me a safe distance from Rick. My eyes sought his out, trying to make sense of the situation but instead, he was fixated on the screen in front of him.

A slideshow of memories played, mostly times I’d had no party to and some I had. It all kept coming back to one, my voice on repeat. “ I want you, I want you, I want you. ” It repeated over and over. Other memories would play, but that was almost like the soundtrack to them all. Rick finally broke his gaze as a memory of us facing off against a small army of gummy bears. He hesitantly let his eyes fall on me, shame forcing them away when they meet mine.

“Is that what gets you through the day?” Morty sneered at Rick. “Absolutely pathetic.”

“Why are you doing this?” my voice shook as I spoke and I continued to stare at Rick as he returned his eyes to the screen. Morty didn’t answer as a sadistic grin formed on his face. Another memory started, a late night on Beth’s couch, Rick playing with my hair as we watched an episode of Cornless. Morty’s grin faltered and he looked angry again. “What’s wrong Morty? Not finding the answers you were hoping for?”

“Ricks are incapable of love,” he growled at Rick. “What are you playing at here you old fuck?”

“We’re not incapable of love, you stupid turd,” Rick yelled back at his alternate grandson. “We just tend to think it’s a waste of fucking time.”

“So why are you wasting time on this Nova?” Morty snarled, glaring at me viciously.

“B-Because when it comes to her, i-its not a waste of time,” Rick shot back venomously. His gaze fell on me momentarily, giving me a tender look before returning to Morty. “D-Didn’t your Rick ever have a fucking Nova?”

“No,” he replied simply, his face returning to his previous emotionless composure. “He had no interest in her. He didn’t care about anyone though, it’s not exactly shocking.”

“What do you want from us, Morty?” I hissed, interrupting them. “Are you trying to get revenge because you had a shitty hand dealt to you and got a shit Rick?”

“It’s funny you ask that Nova,” he smirked, grabbing me by my arm and pulling me with surprising strength to a small chair just out of arm’s reach of Rick. “There’s something deep within him that’s going to show you his true nature. Ricks don’t care about Mortys, they don’t care about Beths and they certainly don’t care about Novas. We’re all tools for his selfish fucking gains.”

“I-Isn’t that what every one is for every fucking one else?” Rick glared. “Nova and Beth weren’t friends out of the goodness of each other's hearts. They both got something out of the friendship.”

“What does Nova get out of her ‘friendship’ with you then, Rick? How do you allow yourself to use her up until she’s wasted away like every fucking one else around you?” Morty demanded, getting so close to Rick he could surely smell the vodka on his breath.

“Wh-Why are you asking me?” Rick spat in his face. Morty took a calming breath, stepping back to wipe the saliva off of his face. “Th-That’s not up to me, that’s up to Nova.” Morty turned, looking at me expectantly.

“I-I l-like being around h-him,” I stammered, earning an eye roll from Morty. “I-I’ve always felt safe around Rick.”

“That’s all you got?” Morty scoffed, “You tolerate Rick because you like him and he makes you feel ‘safe’? That’s the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard in my life. Ricks can’t keep anyone but themselves safe.” My eyes finally met Rick’s, a surprisingly soft look in them as he nodded gently.

“You want to know why I spend every goddamn day with him, Morty?” My rage was starting to boil within me again and I stood up, towering over the small boy. “Because I love the idiot. Because I see him for more than you’ve ever seen him or your own Rick or ANY Rick for that matter. He can be gentle and tender and caring, you just have to give him an opportunity.”

“Oh, what the fuck ever-”

“No, you emotionally stunted little shit. I don’t know what your Rick did to you, I don’t care if he strapped car batteries to your fucking nipples, this is going too fucking far. This is an innocent Rick.” I turned to the Mortys surrounded us, their emotionless facade cracking. “Why are you guys even here? Why are you guys supporting this fucking lunatic Morty?” Bowl Morty, the one that had woken me up, appeared behind me, wrestling with my arms in an attempt to bind them behind my back.

“I-I’m not a lunatic,” Leader Morty snarled at me. “What are you trying to do Aunt Nova? Do you really think you can win all these Morty’s to your side? Some of them don’t even know who the fuck you are.”

“Shut up Morty,” I glared as I broke free from Bowl Morty and pushed him away from me. I dared a glance at Rick, who was slowly but silently burning away the metal bonds with his cybernetic arms. I looked into the crowd of Mortys, most of them looking up at me in confusion as their eyes bounced between their leader and me. “You- Why are you here?” I asked pointing at one of them.

“Wh-When the Evil Rick kidnapped me, he killed my entire family, I had nowhere to go,” he told me sadly.

“So you decided to launch a campaign against every Rick in existence?” I asked harshly. He winced and shrugged up at me. I sought out another one, asking him the same.

“I-I couldn’t live on the citadel. When it was destroyed, I lost my home. M-Morty found me, a-and offered me a better life. N-Now he won’t let me go home.” I ignored the pang of guilt, knowing it had been my Rick’s fault that things had gotten so fucked up for him.

“H-How many of you are here because of the destruction of the citadel?” I asked, my voice faltering despite my best efforts. All but two of them raised their hands, the Leader and Bowl Morty. I raised an eyebrow at the latter, “Why are you here?”

“Because I fucking hate Ri-” A laser grazing his shoulder interrupted him as he fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Rick had finally sawed through his bonds, grabbing the Leader Morty and wrestling him into a chair. He pulled out two small discs that expanded and wrapped around the arms of the chair and Morty’s wrists, effectively binding him to the chair.

“If the rest of you little shits want to leave here alive, you better sit down and shut up. I don’t want any fucking funny business,” Rick shot darkly at the meek boys surrounding us. A few fled down the tunnels while the rest huddled together in terror. I moved closer to offer them some form of comfort as Rick returned to their leader. “Where the fuck is our Morty?” he hissed at him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Oh, if you wanna be difficult, I have a lot of pent up rage and aggression after having my innermost feelings and thoughts put up for everyone to see,” Rick glowered. When Morty didn’t relent, Rick took a shot at his legs, missing by only a hair and instead just singeing his pants. Morty paled despite his best attempts to remain calm.

“Morty, just tell us what you did with Morty N-682,” I glared at him from the sea of Mortys now clinging to my side.

“He’s fine,” Morty shrugged as he struggled against Rick’s metallic bonds. I gently released my thigh from a weeping Morty and walked over to Morty. I put both of my hands over his, getting right next to his face.

“Tell me where the fuck my godson is,” I murmured sweetly into his ear. He squirmed beneath me, trying to resist the teenage hormones I was playing on to get him to talk.

“H-He’s on the citadel okay!” he squeaked and I pushed away from him.

“Where on the Citadel is he?” Rick snarled.

“I-I can show you.” I dug through his pockets, dismayed when the portal gun was nowhere to be found.

“H-He has one in his room.” The weeping Morty spoke up quickly before disappearing down a small rock corridor. He returned quickly, presenting us with a crudely made portal gun. The usual green swirl on the top was discolored and was more yellow than green.

“The fuck did you do to my portal gun?” Rick snarled at Leader Morty. He investigated further, quiet realization dawning on his face. “Th-This isn’t my portal gun, where is it?”

“Shattered somewhere on this planet I guess,” he grinned up at Rick, “I made this one myself.”

“You little fucking shit,” Rick growled, punching in coordinates into the citadel and opening a yellow portal in front of us. “Can’t have Nova going through a fucked-up portal. Why don’t you do us the honors.” He told Leader Morty, pushing him toward the opening.

“If it kills him, we won’t be able to find our Morty.” I murmured to Rick, much to his frustration. He grabbed Bowl Morty instead, forcefully shoving him through the abnormal portal. He seemed satisfied with the results, pushing the rest of the Mortys through before we made our way through behind them. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I reached the other side. The citadel had been mostly rebuilt and looked even better than it had before. Small statues had been erected in honor of the original council but a flyer beneath them told me they had decided to go a more democratic route in deciding who would lead the citadel for the foreseeable future.

“Now where is my Morty, you piece of garbage?” Rick demanded, pointing his laser pistol at him as he watched the captive Morty’s flee from around us, scattering to the wind. I rested my hand on his arm soothingly as he groaned in frustration.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Y-Your Morty is in Mortytown,” Leader Morty finally revealed, leading us down a dark alley into an admittedly rough part of town. Mortys eyed us distrustfully as we passed, but they all seemed to restrain when they saw me joining them. We arrived at a derelict building, not completely unlike the one Scar Rick had been living in. I led the two up the steps cautiously, much to Rick’s ire.

“It’s not fucking safe.”

“Would you prefer my untrained ass being the one ensuring this Morty doesn’t get away?” I shot back.

“You know how to use a gun right? You just pull the trigger if he starts to run,” he explained sarcastically, handing me the pistol and taking the lead. He engaged his arm gun with a couple of button presses on his arm. His pointer finger shifted into the gun barrel he had been working on, “I guess we get to find out how well it works,” he shrugged at me, edging into the building carefully as he watched our blindspots.

“Go to the top floor,” Morty told him wearily. We climbed the creaking stairs, careful to avoid falling through them as they groaned under our weight. I covered my nose and mouth at the disgusting smell that seemed to be getting stronger the higher up we went. Morty watched as I lowered my weapon and braced myself on the railing, trying to put as little weight on the distressed wood as possible. “Au-Aunt Nova, do you really think the railings in this shit heap are going to be any better than the stairs?” he chastised me. I blushed but returned my weapon to his back, following close behind until we finally reached the top floor.

“Nova, st-stay out here with this little shit,” Rick ordered softly, checking his weapon before checking the doorknob. It was surprisingly unlocked, and we were greeted with the battle roar of at least five Mortys as they sprang from within. Rick aimed at them and took them out quickly, much to my horror. Amidst the chaos, the Leader Morty slipped away from my control, whipping down the stairs quickly Before I could even attempt to get a shot off at him, he disappeared through the front door and was gone.

“I’m so sorry Rick,” I cried as he pulled me into a tight embrace. Pressed against his lapel, I was spared from the stench emanating from the room in front of us. I allowed his smell to encapsulate me, even giving me a heady feeling as he pecked small kisses on the top of my head.

“N-Nova, it's okay. You’re okay. I’ll get that little shit next time, it’ll be fine, I promise,” he consoled me, continuing to pepper kisses on my face before pulling my chin up to kiss me properly.

“R-Rick, wait.” I pulled away, covering my nose and pointing to the door in front of us. “Let’s get Morty home.” He nodded sharply, venturing further into the room. I knelt to check the Mortys that had emerged, relieved to find them still breathing from beneath me. It had been a controlled shock that Rick used to sedate them.

I breathed a sigh of relief and followed him into the dim room, gingerly feeling around on the wall in search of a light switch. The putrid stench was overwhelming, and I brought my shirt up to my nose in disgust to try to save the few nose hairs I had left. Rick flicked his flashlight on illuminating the disgusting room around us. Molded cans of vegetables littered the floor around us along with actual feces kept in buckets around the room. I couldn’t contain my disgust any more, returning to the landing to vomit spectacularly.

“Y-You okay, Nova?” Rick called from the small room, his voice getting further away.

“I-I’m just gonna stay out here with the Mortys okay?” I told him, my voice wavering under the threat of throwing up more stomach acid.

“Make sure one of them isn’t him, okay?”

At his word, I started investigating the fourteen-year-old boys splayed out in front of me. I wasn’t sure exactly how he expected me to be able to tell the difference between them, they all looked exactly the same. I thought for a moment, trying to remember some difference that would truly differentiate my Morty but I was coming up blank. Rick emerged from the disgusting apartment empty-handed, concern apparent on his face as he looked over the five Mortys on the ground.

“We’ll have to wait until they wake up,” he groaned. I was not looking forward to spending even another minute in this hellhole but thankfully as I groaned, one of the Mortys joined me in unison. He looked over at me, dazed and rubbing his head before a look of terror crossed his face. Rick grabbed him quickly, bringing his face mere inches from his own, “What dimension are you from?” he hissed at the boy.

“F-329,” Morty told him, his voice shaking. Rick released him quickly, urging him to get lost as we waited for another Morty to come to. Just as the front door slammed behind the first another Morty started waking up. I stepped in between Rick and the poor boy, opting to do the interrogating on my own.

“Hey Morty,” I started softly, “what dimension are you from kiddo?”

“R-495.” Another Morty sent packing. Two started stirring at the same time, and I glared at Rick as we approached them.

“T-580.”

“H-692.”

We eyed the last one, gingerly sitting up to look at the two of us nervously. “Where are you from?”

“N-682.”

Thank fucking god.

*+*

We used Leader Morty’s portal gun to portal home, Rick still apprehensive to use what he called “flawed technology” but it turned out he’d rather use it than ask for help from the Citadel. We arrived home safe and sound, Morty still absolutely traumatized by whatever he’d been through over the past month. Rick said nothing, instead, he led the stunned boy into the laboratory he’d built under the house. When I moved to follow them, he held up his hand and told me to stay in the garage to wait for him. I flopped into my chair, opening my laptop to scroll through my social media feeds as I waited.

“(Y/N)?”

The voice at the garage door startled me, almost knocking me completely out of my chair. “W-What do you want?” I sputtered, desperately trying to steady my breathing.

“I was hoping you’d be ready to talk about things and maybe come home?” he asked sheepishly. He started to walk into the garage but a small ceiling-mounted laser shot at his feet, stopping him in his tracks.

“No Ryan, I’m not ready to come home,” I told him flatly, disregarding his stunned face and returning to my laptop. “Madi won’t be home until the middle of August. We’ll talk then.”

“(Y/N)-”

“You heard the lady,” Rick shot at him, emerging from the basement with a chipper looking Morty at his side. “She doesn’t want to see you right now.” Ryan tried to argue, only to receive a dangerous glare from Rick before slumping his shoulders and finally walking away defeated.

“I’m going to have to deal with that soon,” I sighed, leaning back into my chair and watching Morty. “H-Hey kiddo, how ya doin?”

“I’m great Aunt Nova. I can’t believe you’re living with us now! I’m really glad you got away from Mr. Dawes,” he told me, hugging me tightly before waving goodbye and disappearing into the rest of the house.

“Wh-What did you do to him?” I asked, my eyes bugging out slightly at the sheer night and day effect Rick had produced.

“I-I just erased the last month from his memory.” Rick shrugged, pulling my arm gently to get me to stand.

“You what?” I asked nervously. He ignored my question, opting to bury his face in my hair as he embraced me instead. “You okay?” I asked hesitantly, wrapping my arms around him.

“I was so scared, Nova,” he murmured, his voice muffled by my hair. “I didn’t mean to leave you behind, I’m so sorry. I thought you were right behind me and when I turned around and you weren’t there, jesus Nova I thought you were dead,” he rambled.

“W-We’re okay,” I soothed him as his body trembled against me. I was unsure of how to help, how to soothe a man who I never thought would need it, so I just kept talking, “I’m here, I’m safe with you.”

“I just got so worked up about Morty and when you said you felt safe with me-” His voice hitched a moment and he cleared his throat before continuing, “Nova, that meant more to me than you know.” I moved to kiss him again but Beth interrupted with a quick knock on the door. We broke apart just as she pushed the door open, me returning to my chair and Rick standing over his desk, trying to look interested in whatever gadget he picked up first.

“Dad, I don’t know what you did on your adventure today, but I have to thank you for attitude change in Morty.” She walked in and immediately a suspicious look crossed her face. “I’m glad you two have gotten so close.”

“She’s just handy to have around.” Rick waved his hand dismissively at me as he wrapped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Don’t w-worry sweetie, you’ll always be my baby girl.”

Beth beamed under her father’s embrace and when he released her, her smile lingered. “Dinner will be done soon you two if you’re hungry.” She gave a parting wave before disappearing back into the house.

“In the other dimensions, how does Beth usually take it when they find out their father is into their best friend?” I asked nervously, staring at the door she disappeared through.

“W-Well, m-most Ricks, they, uh, try not let her find out,” Rick told me, rubbing the back of his neck.

+Ch9: Electric Feel+ 

[roger1na]

careful ch5 - john deacon x reader

summary: you are a ballet student at the royal ballet academy. To pay for your tuition, you work part-time at the celebrity gossip magazine, Seven. One fateful day you’re sent to interview a band on the rise, Queen, post-concert and befriend the sweetest man on the planet.

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: swearing

author's note: i'm so happy w all the positive comments i get you guys have all my uwus <3. i've realised FAR too late that brian's supposed to have hepatitis right now so ig in this universe it didn't happen, let's save our boy from some sickness. i think if i can keep to plan, careful should be twelve whole chapters! i don't want to start any new series before it's complete, i'm prone to abandoning projects if i don't really stick with them.

[ch1] [ch2] [ch3] [ch4] [ch5] [ch6] [ch7] [ch8]

chapter five

There was a certain routine to being in love. The butterflies you got every time you wrote about him in your diary. The softness of your heart when you heard Queen play on the radio and perked up your ears to hear the often forgotten bassline.

You soon learned that ‘till next time was code for next week, when John brought you lunch again, letting you hold his hand and tease him about his thick curls and shy smile. The late July sunlight played with the shadows on his face beautifully. Sometimes you felt as if you could just stare at his face forever, get lost in his features. Rose comforted you, saying it was part of falling in love. It terrified you, as a thought. But you hadn’t even properly kissed yet. The thought was ridiculous.

“What’re you thinking about, love?” You let the term of endearment roll of your tongue nervously, relying on British culture to keep your true meaning hidden. You had been walking for quite some time in silence after enjoying lunch in Kensington.

He hesitated slightly before replying. “The new album is so Freddie, Brian and Roger. I feel like the bass is lost.”

“You wish there’d be more bass?”

“Well, I don’t mind not being in the spotlight all the time…” he trailed off.

“But?” You encouraged him.

“I miss songs like Liar. Where I had a solo and all that.”

“You should write your own song, then.”

He looked at you, eyebrows raised, incredulous expression plastered across his face. You laughed and shrugged. “I know none of the songs on Queen and Queen II are yours. Why don’t you give this one a little Deaky twist?”

“Yeah but I can’t sing.”

“Bullshit, you have a great voice.” You stopped walking and turned to him. “I at least like it.”

A small redness spread across his cheeks and he avoided your gaze. “Well, uh,” he stumbled over his words.

“And also, if you want something a little less serious, why not play a bit of a practical joke on them? Something silly and stupid, Freddie would go bonkers for that.” You trailed off before smiling softly. “And, uh, Liar is my favourite song. Especially the bass.”

“You flatter me.”

“I’m serious.”

“I am too! They’re going to have a laugh.”

“Well then, make it into a funny song. Then they’ll laugh for the humour and you won’t feel bad if they insult your poetry or whatever.”

“You really think I should do this?”

“Absolutely.” You took hold of both of his hands and grinned.

You were caught in the moment just staring into his eyes. They were a wonderful shade of grey, occasionally looking dark and black in the shadows and sometimes twinkling like diamonds. You kept going back to the concert where you’d met him. The mischievous glint in his eye kept bringing you back to the silver glint of his bass strings.

A camera shutter snapped behind you, startling you. John’s expression changed from happy to apprehensive and his stance became wary.

“Was that a paparazzi?” The word sounded so silly. So fictional. He grimaced and nodded as some college student with a pimply face and shaky legs ran off with expensive equipment, and probably a picture of you and John where you looked madly in love. Or completely ridiculous. Your skirt suddenly felt too short, your shirt cropped too low and your hair messy.

John’s grip on your hand tightened. “Can we just go back?” You mumbled, embarrassment creeping in your voice.

John looked at you, worried. “Yeah, of course. You alright?”

You nodded, but you didn’t even convince yourself. He lead you back to the office through various shortcuts and darkened alleyways, hurriedly making sure nobody followed you. Once you arrived at the big glass doors to your office he apologised profusely.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve been more careful.” His eyes were sad.

“Hey,” you grabbed his cheeks and squeezed them together slightly to make him form a smile. “Don’t worry about it,” you assured him, although your knees were shaking slightly.

“That’s not normal, I promise.”

“I believe you.” And you wanted to. But fear was creeping in your heart.

“‘Till next time?” He asked nervously.

“‘Till next time,” you promised him, squeezing his cheeks one more time before turning and rushing to the office.

A cloud hung over you as you walked over to your desk, heart beating rapidly, blood rushing in your ears. Williams was whispering something to an intern who looked like he was about to pee his pants at the sight of her, knees clicking together in fear.

You didn’t feel like challenging her anymore. She had a superiority complex. And she definitely hated competition in the workplace, although your intention was not to rise through the ranks. She saw women as something to weed out. You never understood what made her put herself against you, until you were warming up for an audition, and you realised that all the other dancers were looking for the same prize you were. But today, you gave it no thought.

For the first time ever, it properly hit you. John Deacon was famous. He went on tours and played for lovesick fans and probably had an army of teenage girls ready to tear him to shreds if the opportunity presented itself. Or maybe you were being delusional and he was just slightly more known than usual. He was a niche, he was a bass player. He wasn’t in the spotlight that often. Maybe.

You boiled coffee for yourself in thought, stirring in cream and sugar and taking a thoughtful sip. Would your mark on the world be a paparazzi photo with a guy you maybe-dated? While he had an incredible legacy? You’d be like one of those girls in a fan photoshoot which got terribly famous - only to remain anonymous. It was all so complicated.

The office had grown quiet when you returned from the canteen. Several people shot you pitying looks and Williams didn’t look so confident anymore.

“What’s going on?” You whispered to her, suddenly uncomfortably aware of yourself.

Nat left her front desk quickly, hiding something behind her back. “Y/N, sweetheart, don’t be mad…” she trailed off before handing you a copy of the Sun’s evening paper. “It just came in print.”

On the front page there were tons of different news. About celebrity scandals and weird locals. And then a small square image on the right corner of the page. John, with a dopey smile on his face, holding hands with a girl. It was you. Stupid grin and eyes for only John. And the title of the article made you sick.

Queen’s mr. Deacon hanging with the wrong crowd? Somebody should warn you…

Earlier today Queen’s John Deacon was spotted with a girl who works for the infamous gossip magazine Seven. What’s the girl fishing out of him? More on p.13

The article itself was maybe an eighth of a page, accompanied with two pictures. The one on the cover and one where you were entering the office building. But it was pictures of you. It was tarnishing you. You were going to be sick. What would he think if he saw this? You set down the paper and stormed to the bathroom before anybody saw your tears spill over your cheeks.

You stayed like that for a while, occasionally thinking you were brave enough to face people again. Then you caught sight of your red, swollen face and bleary eyes and retreated back into your stall. You mulled things over and over again. Was it always going to be like this?

You were at the office long after hours. Eyes stinging from crying and wiping them with sandpaper-like toilet paper.

Nobody tells you this, but crying from embarrassment and humiliation is the worst type of crying. With every tear that falls, you are reminded of how you messed up or how somebody decided that your actions were something to laugh at. With every sniffle you remembered that you had to go back and face the world, even though your knees were weak and your moral low.

While you were busy letting yourself get run down, the office had emptied. The lights were off and you could hear a lone janitor whistling as he cleaned. You sat down at your desk, pulling your knees to your chest, the chair creaking under your weight. Your sniffle echoed too loud.

You sat there for a while, feeling abandoned by the world. You let yourself be vulnerable and the press snagged onto it. You let yourself fall in love and now half of England thought you were scheming slag.

Your eyes drifted around your desk and landed on the locked drawer where you kept your diary. You fiddled with the lock a bit before it clicked open.

It was filled with memories from the wonder of late july. John this, John that. Ballet had trailed off the pages. You still danced. Every day but saturdays and sometimes even then. Your toes were bleeding often and your ankles hurt and you barely slept because your job started early and ballet ended late. But you had forgotten how much it used to eat up your happiness. It was the only thing that brought you joy. Now that John was part of the scene, you had a break every day. Like an entry to a whole nother universe for half an hour. Where he told you about photography and birds and basslines and you explained how all ballet dancers were evil because every understudy hoped for the failure of the prima ballerina. It was change and it was great. The fear in your heart was losing the fight.

If Rose could astral project, she would’ve appeared to you right then and there, screaming at you to call him.

You dialed his number and picked up the phone. It rang a few times before he answered, nervous on the other line.

“Hello this is John Deacon here,” he announced and then made a small tsk noise with his mouth.

You were so overcome with the relief of hearing his voice that you only managed a small sniffle.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“You sound like you’re in tears.”

You laughed blearily. “Yes well, a bit. Don’t pick up the Sun today.”

“Ah, I see.”

“You read it?”

“Well, I know where you work. I’m still fine.”

You pressed your face into your hand. “God I feel like such an idiot.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault, y’know? I should’ve realised. You’re John Deacon of Queen.”

John’s heart stilled. You didn’t sound bitter, just sad. Like you were done with everything. The lunch dates were a bad idea. The ballet lessons and the phone calls and the pampering. Bad ideas. He was about to open his mouth but you stopped him.

“I’m all in.”

“What?”

“Paparazzi and bad reputation and all stupid things included. All in.”

“What?” He was struggling to grasp what you were trying to get across to him.

“I feel like… I was one foot out of the door? I was nervous and hesitant to fall for somebody. And when I saw that article, it was maybe the worst moment of my life so far.”

“This isn’t very convincing.”

You started laughing on the other end. “Oh, you’re right, I need to clarify. I looked through my diary and so much has happened since I fainted at that concert. I’m all in. No hesitation anymore.”

“You keep a diary?” You could hear his teasing smirk through the phone.

“That’s what you got from me pouring my soul out to you?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t pick up on the subtext that I’m definitely kissing you the next time we see?”

“Oh?”

“I’m going to hang up now-”

“No wait! Tell me more.” He urged you, laughing on the other end.

“You sure? You don’t want to tease me anymore?”

“I’ll stop, I promise.”

“Okay,” you giggled. “So, Swan Lake by my class group has its opening night next week, Friday at 8pm. And I was hoping you’d join me. Or join the audience, I suppose.”

“I get to see you dance?” His voice was alive with joy and wonder, in an almost childlike way.

“Yes, yes! That’s what I mean. That’s part of all in. You get to see me dance.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Yes I agree, I am wonderful.” You laughed.

He scoffed on the other end. But his heart was palpitating. He was overcome with happiness. It’d been strange, courting a girl who was so carried by art, so immersed in dance that she could let herself go for weeks on end just to keep up with it. Seeing her work come to life was the biggest prize he could’ve gotten from making time for you, bringing you lunch, making sure you didn’t starve yourself for the work.

“What made you decide you’d want to kiss me?”

“It’s been too long, hasn’t it? There’s been too many almosts. To hell with almosts.”

“Have you drank something?”

“No!”

“You promise? I won’t wake up tomorrow and you’ll have forgotten all of this?”

“Of course not, I’m responsible.”

“Sure.”

You chatted for a while. He was such lovely company. So full of adoration and respect and wit. He had such a way with words. You felt deep longing in your heart. You also felt relieved, like five years worth of missing love was finally replaced with the warmth of another person.

“I think I’ve got to go now,” you whispered when the janitor entered your section of the office. “I’ll see you friday.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Bye, John.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

You set down the phone, adrenaline making your hands tremble ever so slightly. You wiped your face one last time before taking your things and leaving the office. There was a spring to your step which echoed in the empty evening London streets. You could hear the bellowing of drunks from the pubs and the crying of a baby from a nearby apartment. But it didn’t really mean anything to you anymore. You were flying on the wings of love.

God you felt ridiculous.

***

taglist: @fourmisfits @deakysgirl @im-happy-at-home @obsessedwithrogertaylor @itsametaphorbriansblog @rhapso-kei

[sollea]

Dolorem et Consolationem Ch10

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9 Words: 3825 Poorly done recon with Lea!

Tag this as AkRk and I eat your bones.

“Remember how to do recon, Roxas?” Lea’s hand rested on Roxas’s shoulder, leaning down slightly to be closer to the teen’s face.

“What kind of question is that?” Roxas rolled his eyes. “You didn’t even teach me how to, it was Even. I’m glad he’s way less creepy now, by the way. One time before you all went to Oblivion, he sat in the Grey Area and just kinda laughed at me? Like he wanted to eat me or something.”

“I mean, obviously something. He’s not that weird, c’mon. Give him a little credit.”

“When he was Vexen? I don’t want to. He said something about dissecting when talking about me? He was fucking weird.”

“Roxas, watch your language.”

“Really? Seriously?”

“Yeah, serious Lea. Now don’t fucking curse.”

Roxas looked up at Lea, expression giving away the fact that he was moments away from kicking the man’s ass for what he just said. “Why wasn’t Isa just glad to have you off his hands when you stopped hanging out with him? You’re the worst.”

Lea rolled his eyes and shrugged. “It’s because I’m delightful and hard to not love. Everyone knows that.”

“Alright, whatever you say. Isn’t talking a stupid thing to do during recon?”

“You went on recon missions with me, did that ever stop me? Besides, we’re checking out a bunch of nobodies without orders to do anything, this isn’t a real mission. Lesser nobodies don’t seem to mind us being around anyways.”

“They’re really not after hearts, are they?”

“Nah, if they were, they would’ve attacked a bunch of us members. That would’ve been real bad. They’re looking for their own if anything. Nobodies are all real self-serving, but they can be given objectives. If they think something’s gonna further their one life’s purpose, gaining a heart and returning to who they were, they’ll drop almost anything. A heart in someone else isn’t going to give the walking corpse who shouldn’t exist anything.”

“Sounds like you don’t actually know anything about them,” Roxas said as he walked down the neon-lit streets behind Lea.

“What d’you mean by that?” There was a moment where Lea’s face twisted into a grimace and he was glad he and Roxas weren’t standing next to each other.

“Sounds like projection, honestly. I might be younger than you, but if you want to talk about stuff, can you do it in a straightforward way?”

Lea continued to thank Roxas’s recon training for not having them in a position where his face could be seen. He sighed and collected himself before turning to face Roxas, rubbing behind his head with one hand and openly shrugging with his other.

“Listen, that’s how I understand it. I’m not projecting, not sure who you learned about that from-”

“Olette’s homework,” Roxas interrupted, seemingly unaware of Lea’s annoyance. If he was aware of Lea’s annoyance with him, he looked like he was refusing to let it bother him. The more Lea thought on it, the more likely the second option seemed. Roxas really did grow into someone completely different than Sora.

“Alright, well, don’t interrupt me, all questions can be answered later if they’re actually questions.” Lea’s mouth tightened into a flat line, trying his best to not sound as aggravated as he was. “Olette’s obviously not teaching you all her homework’s saying, but the dusks do want hearts, they just don’t attack everyone with hearts. They’re not mindless like heartless are. So I made some assumptions about them, sue me. Once we do attack them, they’re not gonna be too happy about that. You know as well as I do that lesser nobodies can suck when they swarm you.”

Roxas waited a moment, not wanting to interrupt again, watching Lea nod his head and gesture to go on. “I just wanted to say, maybe not as well as you do. Didn’t that kill you?”

“You don’t actually have to worry about interrupting me, just not as… in the middle of my sentence.” Lea sighed, relaxing almost as quickly as he’d tensed up in defense of himself. “Let’s not talk about death right now, we’re about to try to get a group together to go around killing things in hopes of their heartlesses meeting the business end of a keyblade too.”

“What happens if we injure the nobody too badly? And what is too badly since we have to kill them? Ienzo said Even took longer reforming for some reason?”

“Yeah, well, keyblade traumas seem to be relatively quick on the recompletion, fire’s a little bit of an issue. Unless you’re doing it to yourself and survive past it. I said no more death talk, Roxas.”

“Oh, did you… to Vexen?”

Lea sighed and rubbed at the back of his head. He guessed there was no way to control the conversation topic with Roxas as curious as he was. Today was gonna be a day full of deep breaths and uncomfortable questions. “Yeah. If you want me to be forward with you, I’ll tell you this one thing and you can decide if you still want me to talk to you about stuff, okay?”

“This is a weird way to do recon, but okay.”

“Listen, I did most of what I needed to know before you got here, you just said you wanted to hang out, okay? I already know what I’ve gotta do. besides, you’re the one asking all these questions.” Lea looked around at the surrounding area, making sure the nobodies who were around were still acting like he expected them to. Once he was sure they were safe, he dropped to the ground in a dramatic motion, pulling out his keyblade just to lay it on his lap and lean his elbows against it. “Alright, Roxas, sit down so I can tell you a bunch of shitty things I did to people who deserved something, but not what I gave them.”

Roxas was more hesitant to join Lea on the ground than he’d been with anything else. Hesitation wasn’t in Roxas’s nature. He got placed on the ground in need of some kind of start-up, but he hadn’t stopped since. Lea’s words and their current location combined in a way Roxas wasn’t sure if he particularly liked.

But he trusted Lea.

After he was seated, Roxas looked up at Lea, ready to listen and make the call on if he wanted to let Lea talk to him. Of course, no matter what Lea said, Roxas was determined to get comfortable enough with it fast so he could help his friend.

Lea was, however, not planning on actually giving Roxas a choice. It was a formality, he just wanted to see how being open would feel around the kids. There were a lot of them and they were all close. Roxas was the best one to test how much he could tell someone about half his age before he felt like he was creeping too far into an unhealthy place.

“So, you want to know what actually happened in Oblivion?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, you better like to listen to me talk, because I’m about to get into it.”

Roxas immediately regretted what he had just gotten himself into. Not that he minded listening to Lea talk, if he did, his whole time in the Organization would’ve been an unbearable hell instead of just hell, but… he didn’t like the implication that Lea would be talking more than he usually did.

There were a long few moments where Lea looked towards the castle and wondered if it would continue to look like it did, cast out of the passage of real time, or if it would crumble and fall apart as the people whose memories likely held it together stopped thinking about its halls. Lea lost himself in thought, unable to pull himself back to what he was planning on doing.

There was suddenly a hand over his that pulled him back into reality. “Hey, Lea, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to? We’re kinda sitting on the ground in a city of dusks?”

Lea looked up at Roxas and laughed, rubbing at the back of his head. The laugh felt at home in the city of the dead and lost, as did the two somebodies for just a moment. “Nah, Roxas, I’m fine. Just keep thinking things about being here. The world’s kinda falling apart in some places, did you notice?”

“Yeah, in some places.”

“The lesser nobodies and their shattered memories are holding this place together while we’re not thinking about it. I’m willing to bet on that one.” Lea gestured to one of the dusks meandering nearby as he spoke. Their home wouldn’t vanish completely until they were all defeated.

“You think a lot more about real questions than you act like you do. I thought you just kinda listened to Isa most of the time?”

“You saying you thought I was stupid? After all the stuff I taught you?” Lea’s laugh this time wasn’t nearly as hollow, but his eyes didn’t have the usual glint behind them.

“Ugh, no. Don’t twist my words around like that! I’m just saying… I thought you didn’t think as much as you’re thinking now?”

“That’s because thinking about things is never fun anymore. I’d rather just focus on the here and now. The here and now is the there and then right now, though. So. Here I am, stuck thinking about everything happening around me again.” Lea sighed and tapped his fingers against his keyblade’s fire. “So, you wanted to hear about Oblivion?”

“Yeah, but now that you’re back from zoning out, can we do this somewhere else? Maybe we can RTC and talk where there are some chairs?”

“C’mon, Roxas, I just got comfortable,” Lea said, sitting up straight and cracking his back. He realized when he did that that he didn’t really want to be sitting on the ground either, not in the middle of the World That Never Was. Slouching when he could see assassins and their bowed forms was… uncomfortable now that he was a person again. Though, hearing RTC coming out of Roxas’s mouth wasn’t all too comfortable either. “One last RTC to talk about that time I killed some coworkers. Cathartic or something.”

Roxas just looked at Lea for a moment before getting up. “Have you always been like this?”

“What? Hilarious and amazing? Yeah.”

Roxas seemed to decide that responding to Lea wasn’t the best choice as he began to walk forward without waiting for the older man to get up. Lea quickly scrambled to get up, long legs almost a hassle to deal with when hurrying. Keyblade vanishing as he let it slip from his grip, Lea held his breath as he watched it return to wherever keyblades stayed when they weren’t being held.

“Hey, Roxas, you ever get told where keyblades go?” Lea looked at his hand while they walked towards the castle, slowly closing his fingers into a fist.

“What? No? I never asked. It’s like all the other weapons you guys used to have, right?”

“I dunno, I guess I just think keyblades are probably a little more special than weapons used by the science cult we were all in.”

“Science cult?”

“I mean, I guess you could call it a lot of various kind of things, but science cult’s what I know about it. You not thinking of it like that’s kinda my fault, isn’t it?”

“I guess! I still don’t know what happened at Oblivion, you haven’t told me yet!”

“Oh, right, well. Isa gave me instructions that came straight from the boss man’s mouth.”

“Xemnas?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that still.”

“Lea, can you ever just summarize something?” Roxas rolled his eyes as they reached the divide that there was between the city and the castle. “Also, how are we getting over there?”

“No, I can’t, and I’d say next question, but you’re bombarding me.” Lea raised a hand to the side and summoned a dark portal. “Small trip, should be easy, even if our clothes weren’t specially made by the fairies.”

“I don’t think you should really be using those as much as you do, Lea, it’s not healthy to be using so much darkness.”

“Eh, it’s fine. It’s been ages and my heart’s still strong as ever.”

“Yeah, but, without a heart?”

“Well, yeah, but there was some time before we lost our hearts…” Lea trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck. He hadn’t really given much thought to what happened in the short time between becoming apprentices and dying before. It took him a moment to collect himself again enough to realize he was still handing out answers to questions without much thought. “Hey, don’t try to get more information out of me than I wanna give. Just get in the portal so we can cross the death chasm that apparently exists now.”

“Okay, okay, wow. You’re the one who was answering stuff, it’s not my fault,” Roxas said as he entered the portal and rushed across the darkness to the exit.

The exit brought the two of them into the Grey Area and Lea immediately walked to the window, standing where Saïx always used to and staring out with the same intense longing he’d always seen on his friend’s face. Isa really had always been there, no matter how much they both changed over the years. It hurt Lea to think about it, so mocking was the only answer he could think of to make it hurt less. With no Kingdom Hearts in the sky, it was too close to the early days where everything was new and terror resounded in every echo of his empty chest despite not being able to truly feel it.

Roxas walked over and stood next to Lea. “You okay?”

Lea looked down and laughed. “Yeah, I’m just making fun of what Saïx was like.”

“Oh, can we still say Organization names?”

“Yeah, kinda? I’m talking about the disjointed person that Isa became. Axel sure was something else for a while. Looking back, I think I know exactly when I started to be myself again and it sure wasn’t the whole time. It’s part of what I’m about to talk to you about, so, lucky you.”

“Is it really lucky?”

“Nah, not really.” Lea immediately hopped over the back of a couch and slouched onto it after speaking. “I’ll start the story when you sit down?”

Roxas sat down and looked at Lea expectantly. No words were spoken as the teen waited for Lea to begin the explanation of what happened in Oblivion… until Roxas saw something out of the corner of his eyes. “Wait, sorry, there’s something over there. I’m gonna grab it then you can tell me the story.”

Lea watched Roxas dart over to the corner of the room and snag a piece of paper, folding it up carefully and putting it into a pocket carefully before casually walking back to sit down next to him. Tilting his head and raising an eyebrow, Lea looked at Roxas with as much expectancy as Roxas had just been looking at Lea.

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing? I’ve just been finding someone’s letters all over the place.”

“Alright, well, tell be about that?” Lea was all too happy to change the topic and Roxas could see that in the way he leaned forward and opened his previously closed off way of sitting. “You’ve got the floor if you need help figuring it out.”

“Nah, I think it’s really time for you to tell me what happened when you left. Why’d everyone go? And are you going to keep having me try to guess if you’re talking about Xemnas or Isa?”

“Alright, whatever you say.” Disappointment that Roxas didn’t take the chance to talk about anything else crossed over Lea’s face. “Well, alright… Oblivion. Everyone went for science reasons, research regarding replicas, I think you know that much, but it was also research regarding the castle itself. You’ve seen what it turned into, Xemnas probably wanted that. We weren’t told exactly what to look for, just that it was a chamber of waking or something.

“There were actually a few people assigned there who were organizing a coup, Marluxia and Larxene, so it was perfect timing to get rid of them for Xemnas… along with some people in the way of Isa’s rise to the top. It was probably too suspicious to get all the people that were in the way, so Isa sent Aeleus and Even and… Ienzo. Which would’ve been fine with me if I hadn’t already been assigned babysitting duty and if Naminé wasn’t… so hard to watch get hurt. And the replica…” Lea trailed off and rubbed at his face, sighing and sitting up so he could lean against his arms. “It’s probably my fault Xion wasn’t treated right, I never reported that replicas could develop personalities of their own.”

“You knew?”

“Yeah. Didn’t want to. I did something horrible with the Riku replica that was being used in the castle.”

“What?”

“I made him murder Zexion for me.”

Roxas and Lea sat in silence for a few very long seconds as they both took in what was said. Roxas, having had no idea what had happened in Oblivion, and Lea, having never said it aloud before.

Lea looked up at the ceiling and took in a deep breath before continuing, “I made the kid kill the only member of the Organization beyond Isa that I respected at all. Ienzo was a kid when everything happened and a pretty cool one at that. We weren’t friends or anything, but I like to think he didn’t mind me that much. It was easy to understand what I had to do, even if it was told to me in a way that allowed for plausible deniability from Isa if I was stopped, but I didn’t fully want to do it by the end of that trip to the castle. It really felt like a lot changed in me then. Felt like I must’ve been giving up.”

Lea paused to catch his own thoughts before they drifted even further away from the conversation than he could handle. “Stop me anytime you need.”

Roxas was sitting in a stunned silence, staring hard at Lea’s shoulder as the man spoke. It was the kind of thing Lea had initially wanted, but there was nothing fun about talking about things only to be shut down. It was good that Roxas wasn’t about to shut Lea down. “You can keep going, I’m okay.”

Being told to continue hadn’t been expected, but maybe it was good. “I don’t know if I was or not. Maybe I was giving up on Isa’s way. It was getting to be too painful and I didn’t realize it was real pain. I… don’t really want to keep going. I hate the part I’m about to tell you. I think about it constantly.” Lea clenched his hands into fists and breathed in slowly, holding hands to his chest as he curled in on himself. “Killing Vexen was… cathartic. Thinking back on how freeing it was is horrifying, especially because Sora was right there. I shouldn’t have let Sora be right there.”

“Lea?” Suddenly, Lea felt a smaller hand on his.

Looking up, Lea’s heart broke into a million pieces. Roxas was visibly worried, his eyebrows pulled together and his expression soft. He wasn’t used to being the adult in the situation. He reached up and touched his cheek, feeling the warm, wet tears fall against his fingertips. The crying adult who needed to pull himself together, that was what he was. “Sorry, Roxas. That’s basically it. Marluxia and Larxene were killed fighting Sora, Naminé escaped because I let her as far as I’m aware, Aeleus was killed fighting Riku. Sora’s memories were wiped, Naminé repaired them. Oh, right, Marluxia was having her insert herself into his memories instead of Kairi, that was a whole plot. Didn’t work, but it broke Sora a little bit.”

“Oh, is that all?” Roxas laughed as if nothing was wrong and sat back again. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Talking stuff out sucks no matter how many times you do it.”

“How many times have you managed?”

“Once? Twice, maybe. Plus this.” He prided himself on a tone he felt seemed casual, even with the tears in his eyes.

“Thanks for telling me what happened.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Lea paused and stared at his lap. “I’m gonna tell you one more thing before I have to just ask you to not ask me questions for a while, okay?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I figured out why I can still use the dark corridors when nobody else can. Or will, I don’t know, maybe Isa can.”

Roxas just continued to stay quiet, face still soft with concern despite his entire body leaning forward slightly because he wanted to know.

“Ienzo couldn’t figure it out because I don’t know how much of the experiments Isa and I were in he remembers. We woke up in the coats, I don’t know how I managed to forget before.” Voice cracked as Lea cried, unable to hold himself together like he’d wanted. “We were apprentices, but if you weren’t family, it didn’t really matter. Sometimes experiments happened on even Xehanort from what I’d heard. We could do it then, we were pushed into darkness then, of course we continue to hold power over the corridors. It’s too bad nothing in them was ever helpful like anyone wanted, they really only worked to move us around.”

“... That sucks, Lea. Do you want to be alone? I can come back later?”

Lea wondered briefly if he was really making it feel obvious that he didn’t want to be having this breakdown around Roxas, but he couldn’t do anything but nod. Roxas immediately got up and stood awkwardly in front of the couch for a moment before wrapping his arms around Lea. It took the man a moment to comprehend what was happening, but when he did, he lifted his hand up and placed it on Roxas’s shoulder blade. “Thanks.”

Roxas backed up and nodded.

Lea didn’t watch him leave, he didn’t watch much of anything until he felt the couch move beneath him. Even then, he didn’t lift his head, he just watched as familiar fingers intertwined themselves with his.

“Roxas told me you went to the castle. Why are you here?”

Lea just shook his head, suddenly realizing he was sobbing as he did. He wondered how long that had been happening. Was he sobbing the entire time? He touched his cheek and it was warm and wet. Trying to take a breath hurt his chest.

Despite asking to be alone, he wanted nothing less and allowed himself to collapse on Isa. “I need help.”

[kaiba-fangirl]

Fill in the questions/statement as if you are being interviewed for an article and you were your muse

Tag 10 people to do this meme, (repost, don’t reblog)

TAGGED BY: not @rogueprinceconsort =P & I know I’m not a RP blog, but I am a fanfic author so I still do the same kind of stuff, just everyone at once with chapters, so I’m sure ya won’t mind... idk itching to write Seto but his mind is all over the place in Ch7 of And You? (AO3/FFN), & I know I’ve missed a bunch of personal tags in the past, so, well, I’m here now. TAGGING: anyone 1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

“Seto Kaiba.”  (海馬 瀬人 Kaiba, Seto)

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?

He narrows his eyes, already suspicious. “Legally, that IS my real name.”

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU WERE CALLED THAT?

“I was born Seto,” he answers flatly, then smirks. “The Kaiba family name I earned for myself and my little brother at the age of 10, when Gozaburo agreed to adopt us thanks to my, superior negotiating skills.” [Seto after Egyptian Pharaoh Seth. Kaiba for, apparently, hippocampus/seahorse.]

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN? “Taken. Happily married to the number 1 female duelist, Mai Valentine. She’s now heading the new Fashion Tech and Merchandise Department at Kaiba Corp.” [but he’s also still looking >.>]

5. HAVE ANY ABILITIES OR POWERS? “Just bleeding edge technology development and superior dueling skills,” he shrugs smugly. [and hacking.] [You also accidentally activate latent magical powers every so often, dumbass. Sure he’s a genius. A genius that weaves techno-sorcery into everything & commands gods without even knowing it.] “Anything else you may have heard about magic or spirits or real monsters, is all just nonsense hocus pocus. It’s sensationalists trying to make our amazingly life-like holographic projections seem dangerous.”

6. STOP BEING A MARY SUE/GARY STU. “Heh, doesn’t that just mean born talented? You should be so lucky.”

7. WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOR? “Blue,” he chuckles childishly. “It was probably what first drew me to, you know, Blue-Eyes, when I was young.” [It’s not. The Blue-Eyes White Dragon was his magical monster of light ‘girlfriend’ in Ancient Egypt in a past life of his 3000 years ago.]

8. HOW ABOUT YOUR HAIR COLOR? “Chestnut.”

9. HAVE YOU ANY FAMILY MEMBERS? “Living, my little brother, Mokuba, and now my lovely wife.”

10. OH? WHAT ABOUT PETS? “No pets. I barely have time for having two people in my life now it seems, and that’s even with Mokuba off travelling.” [any pet energy is expended on more Blue-Eyes White Dragon themed everything]

11. THAT’S COOL I GUESS, NOW TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE. “You wanna see a REAL Gary Stu?! As in, there is no reason he should have made it this far?! Joey fuckin Wheeler. This loser stole his way into my tournament, then has the nerve to even challenge me for 3rd place as if that meant anything, and he still ends up 4th even?! How! He operates on pure luck, and leeching off his ‘friends!’ His deck is a mess, I mean have you even seen his lineup?!?!” [Well that would all be redacted. Now, since this is for an interviewer for a published article...] He calmly and thoughtfully looks off at a spot on the far wall behind the interviewer. He purses his lips and furrows his brow, genuinely distraught, drawing from a direct encounter. “I’m actually more concerned than ever about the state of refugees- whether they have that official label or not. Around the world. Especially the children. These children don’t know what’s going on, and people say they care about children, but they really don’t. They’re not thinking of those kids- of refugee kids. Of poor kids. Of orphans or abused kids. And the way these refugees are being treated, those kids are getting hit with all those things at once. Ya know, I- I was fortunate enough to have that opportunity to be adopted, in a strong first-world nation, but I know what it’s like, to know that the grown ups are just using you, not listening to you. You’re nothing to them; maybe pawns. Now, I’m doing all I can, as president of Kaiba Corp, but there is still only so much we can do. We’re not making tanks or any weapons at all anymore-” He chokes at the thought of a tank staring him down specifically, compared to the latest news. He clears his throat to manage. “Not since the day I took over. We may not be contributing to that military industrial complex anymore, but the state of refugees today is still just as bad if not worse. Now they’re using weapons outlawed by the Geneva Conventions, and in countries that pride themselves on freedom and opportunity. Pteh. It’s madness. It’s evil.” [...aaand that just became the cover story] [We’ll be back after after a short break.]

12. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES/ACTIVITIES YOU LIKE DOING? “Besides dueling, uh, tinkering. Reading. Hacking into random databases I shouldn’t be in.”

13. EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE? “Next question. Don’t even print that, or you’ll be hearing from my lawyers. And they don’t play so nice.” [By ‘lawyers’ I’m pretty sure he just means goons.]

14. EVER… KILLED ANYONE BEFORE? "No.” [Gozaburo.]

15. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU? "Dragon.”

16. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS. "Tch, I wouldn’t have gotten to be president of a multi-billion-dollar corporation if I had bad habits.”  [That is literally his worst habit. Also how he got there is because of all his bad habits.] He chuckles at what he’s about to make fun of. “Then again, some people think that working too much is a bad habit.”

17. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE AT ALL? "How could I when I’m already on top?”

18. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL? "Irrelevant.” He smiles menacingly. “Card games are more important anyway.” [Bi and trying to figure out how to tell his wife. Then again once he does that, the press will be easy. Possibly also grey ace or demi, since he does enjoy the physical aspects of being married & his crush.]

19. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL? “Graduated high school early and then went right back to work as CEO, at the time. I don’t have time to waste getting a piece of paper to validate my knowledge that I’m already putting to use at Kaiba Corp everyday. --but I certainly support everyone staying in school as long as they can. Kaiba Corp offers a free college tuition program for any employee, paid ahead of time, and schedules can be worked around class and homework time as needed.”

20. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS ONE DAY? “I never thought I would want to marry, but I have always assumed I would want to adopt. Now I am married, and we both want to adopt. Someday. It needs to be when I can have time for them...” [and he’s wondering why you are supposed to only marry one person...]

21. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANBOYS/FANGIRLS? “Yeah,” he laughs, genuinely embarrassed at this level of pure idolization, “I find it endearing to see people dress up as Yugi and I at events.”

22. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF? “Losing my little brother.”

23. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR? “Full-length pants, tight fitting turtlenecks, boots, and a trenchcoat. More leather and straps and buckles, the better.”

24. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE? “Of course. My little brother and my wife.” [and Joey]

25. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WET YOURSELF? [he just makes this face:]

[but possibly the last time he did hard drugs]

26. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU? (HIGH CLASS, MIDDLE CLASS, LOW CLASS) “Highest class.” He winks, for the spotlight.

27. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE? “I don’t need ‘friends’ outside of my family.”

28. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE? “Finally, an intelligent question!” he laughs rudely. “My thoughts are that we should change the standard approximation for π to something closer to 3.16. That’s what I use in my calculations, and I find things just seem to work out better for me because of it.”

29. FAVORITE DRINK? “I’ve started drinking a lot more water, and I think that’s pretty much all I drink lately.”

30. WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE? “It’s comforting being in my office, knowing where I belong, knowing that with me there, everyone I love is safe, knowing how I got there, and being proud of all I’ve accomplished, but...” [sometimes anxiety about it being Gozaburo’s old office creeps into his mind like an evil spirit or ghost...] “But more than that, I enjoy the wild freedom of just taking my Blue-Eyes jet out with some good music playing.” [oh my various gods he will always be an emo teen at heart <3]

31. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE? He scoffs. “Yes, I am genuinely interested in my wife. Mai is an amazing person. And- Ah, and, um, next question?” [and Joey!]

32. WHAT’S YOUR BRA CUP SIZE AND/OR HOW BIG IS YOUR WILLY? “What kind of magazine is this for, anyway?” he asks as an aside, then thinks up a ridiculous enough response. “Ever hear of Zorc? I’d say that’s roughly one-third the size of mine.” Under his breath, he scoffs in disgust. “Imbeciles.”

33. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN? “Er, a private pool, thanks. Too many paparazzi anyplace else, and I wouldn’t want to close off anything from the public.” [I hear there’s a river in Egypt he lives in though]

34. WHAT’S YOUR TYPE? “Independent. Strong. Great duelist. Someone who knows what it’s like at rock bottom, but still managed to claw their way to the top...” [he spaces out off to the side]

35. ANY FETISHES? *zoom out to room full of Blue-Eyes White Dragon themed EVERYTHING* “Nah.” [*insert Will Smith presenting his AO3 tags]

36. SEME OR UKE? TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?

[Switch! But “And You?” is stuck at a T rating, sooo...]

37. CAMPING OR INDOORS? "The fuck- you’re giving me whiplash with these questions,” he mutters. “Camping sounds nice. Real camping. Mokuba and I used to build forts and play outside a lot. I should ask him if he wants to go on a camping trip when he gets back. I doubt- well, no, I think Mai would like that, too.” [And Joey can cook them “candy bars!”]

38. ARE YOU WANTING THE QUIZ TO END?

[swanslieutenant]

a place in time - chapter xi

Summary: Emma’s an agent working to reunite missing people with their families when the biggest missing persons case of all time appears in front of her in a flash of bright, white light. Thousands of missing people from throughout history, including one particular pirate, appear on the shore of a lake in the middle of winter: none have aged a day since their disappearance and, with no memory of their missing time, must venture into a strange and uncertain future. Loosely based on the TV show “the 4400.”

Rating and Warnings: Teen. For now.

Catch up: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10

Read on AO3

Sorry it’s taken me so long, life, ya know. Enjoy this chapter!

The next morning, Emma wakes up before her alarm clock to the quiet and darkness of her bedroom. She lays there in the still dark for several minutes, listening to the faint sounds of police sirens and the gunning engines of cars on the freeway nearby, dreading the moment she has to get out of bed. Her eyes feel dry and raw from the tears of the previous night, and the rest of her feels empty, as if all her emotions drained out of her and haven’t yet returned.

She leans back against the pillows and closes her eyes. The last few days have been extremely challenging and hard, probably the hardest days she’s ever had in her life, but as much as she wants to stay in the comfort of her warm bed, Emma knows she can’t wallow in it. Like she thought last night, today’s the first day of the reality that her parents are really and truly here.

And she needs to get up and face it.

Emma sighs, and forces herself to swing her legs out of bed, her bare feet pressing hard against the cold floor. Henry is still asleep beside her, snuggled into the pillows, and she runs a hand over his head, ruffling his hair.

“Come on, kid,” she says, tugging the covers away from him. He groans in protest, rolling over and pressing his face into a pillow, and Emma sighs fondly at him. “It’s time for school, Henry.”

He grumbles, as per usual, but gets up when Emma promises him scrambled eggs before they have to leave. Throughout breakfast and the car ride to school, Henry is his normal, chattery self, but he doesn’t say anything about the night before. He’s apparently too preoccupied with telling her about another story in his book to continue the conversation from last night, but Emma knows her kid too well; he’s sad that she won’t let him meet Mary Margaret and David.

And that makes her feel like the worst parent in the world, even if she knows she’s doing what’s best for him in the long run. They are strangers, after all.  

But if he is cross with her, he doesn’t let it stop him from turning to hug her before he hops out of the car, squeezing her tightly. “Bye, Mom. Have a good day at work.”

“Bye, kid. Have fun at school.”

He’s already out of the car when he turns back, hand holding the door open, a shy, nervous smile on his face.

“Will you say hi to your parents for me?”

She swallows the lump in her throat, hands tightening around the steering wheel, and she hopes he can’t hear the tremble in her voice.

“Of course, kid.”

The rest of the drive to Storybrooke, Emma’s thoughts twist and turn, stuck on a loop of Henry’s disappointed face from the night before and the shy smile this morning. Her sweet boy, who has only ever had Emma for family just as she’s only ever had him, has now got two new family members - his grandparents .

Is she wrong to keep him from them?

No, she thinks just as quickly. This isn’t a forever decision, this is a right now decision. Right now, these people are strangers. Emma doesn’t know them at all, and she will not let Henry get attached to them when they decide that they’ve missed too much, that they don’t want her anymore and, by extension, don’t want anything to do with Henry either.

When she arrives at Storybrooke, driving through the usual crowd of reporters to enter the facility, she forces those worries and thoughts away. She’s nearly late for their usual Thursday morning meeting, and when she reaches the meeting room, it’s already chock full. It’s one of their larger boardrooms, with seats for about a dozen people, and the one end of the room clustered with more people. She slips into the crowded room, shutting the door quietly behind her, as the meeting is already in full swing. A few people glance over at her entrance and Emma catches the eye of a few of her fellow agents: Anna, who she exchanges a smile with, and Graham, from whom Emma looks quickly away, her pulse jumping immediately in anger and betrayal.

She knows he was doing his job and that he truly wanted to help her, but Emma’s not ready to forgive him yet for springing this life-altering news on her with no warning.  

At the front of the room, Regina is leading the meeting, standing in front of a large projection screen with the words RETURNEE EXIT PLAN emblazoned across the top.

“As some of you may be aware,” she’s saying as she flips the slide to a more detailed list of bullet points, “after much consternation and discussion, the committee down in D.C. has finally agreed to the re-location of the returnees off of Storybrooke grounds.”

A murmur of excitement filters across the room and Emma raises her eyebrows in surprise. She hadn’t heard that the exit plan for the returnees was at a stage where they could be released anytime soon, but it appears she may be one of the few who didn’t know, given the looks and smiles of triumph being exchanged across the room.

That’s what finding out the parents you thought abandoned you have time-travelled to the present will do to a person, she thinks bitterly. 

After all, Emma reasons, it’s about time for the returnees to get out of here. It’s been more than five weeks since that fateful night down at the lake, and Emma can think of a handful of returnees offhand who should be released immediately, like Ariel Andersen and Marian Locksley. They’ve only been gone for a few months or at most a few years, and they deserve to get back to their lives, the lives that are still waiting for them.

For others, however, Emma knows five weeks is not enough time. For one example, Killian Jones - the centuries-old pirate, out in the modern world, away from Storybrooke and his support team? Emma’s stomach clenches uncomfortably at the thought.

As the room quiets, the dim hum of excitement still lingering in the room, Regina gestures to the screen again, and continues, “As you can see, my team and I have triaged the returnees into four groups, with the first group to leave the ones thought to be most re-adapted to our time. Even still, all returnees will need a signature of approval from their assigned agent, social worker, psychologist, and physician before they can submit the report for our final judgment on their release plan. Housing accommodations and work prospects must also be in place outside of Storybrooke, as well as a summary of available social supports like family and friends and community supports. The returnees will be followed still by our team and our colleagues in other cities upon their resettlement, but new physicians and community support teams must be in place as well. We want to give our returnees their best shot at re-adapting to life outside Storybrooke.”

There’s several calls of agreement, and the room briefly breaks into a chorus of applause until Regina gathers everyone’s attention again, returning to her presentation. The next few slides explain the application process in finer detail, and then Regina passes around copies of the report that has sorted the returnees into their different triage levels.

Emma flips through the package as Regina finishes up the presentation, looking for names she recognizes. She starts with the fourth group - the last group to leave - and Killian Jones, predictably, is named amongst them. That settles her lurching stomach, relief settling over her; at least he’ll be here for a bit longer before he’s gone.

As quickly as the relief had settled upon her, Emma frowns at herself. What does she care whether or not Killian Jones is around Storybrooke for longer? She wants him to leave, because that’s her job - get him re-adjusted to this world and then send him on his way. Clearly, that’s what he wants too; he even tried to escape , for God’s sake.

So why does the news of this exit plan make her stomach fill with dread and wish for the exact opposite?

In the back of her mind, there’s an answer lurking, a low whisper of you know why, Emma ,

She shuts that down just as quickly as she thinks it, flipping to the next page of the package so aggressively she nearly rips off the top page, making the agent beside her give her a quizzical look. She ignores her too, looking firmly down to the rest of the list, scanning for another name to take her mind off Killian Jones.

She finds that distraction easily - a few names is away is Elsa Arendelle, Anna’s sister who vanished only two years ago. She frowns at the sight of it amongst the other returnees in this fourth group, wondering what has made the triage team think she needs to stay here longer. She checks the list for the first group and finds names like Ariel Andersen and Marian Locksley, just like Emma thought they would be.

Maybe Emma should check in with Anna and make sure everything is okay with her sister. She glances over to Anna, across the room from her, but Anna is looking down at her own list, frowning, and Emma can’t catch her eye.

“Any questions?” Regina calls from the front of the room, and Emma looks back to her. Regina fields a few questions around the logistics of this exit plan, taking up about twenty more minutes of time. Finally, when the room is exhausted of questions, Regina nods in satisfaction and says, “Then get to it everyone.”

The room interrupts into chatter as everyone begins to exit the room. Emma looks back to where Anna had been sitting, wanting to ask her more about Elsa, but Anna is already halfway out the door.

“Agent Swan, a word, please.”

Emma turns around. Regina has made her way through the crowd, and she beckons Emma to follow her back to the front of the room. Regina’s expression is serious and cold, and dread settles over Emma.

She knows Regina has to know about Mary Margaret and David; Graham would never have been allowed to talk to Emma about it without Regina’s permission in the first place. Emma just hopes she’s not going to make it into a bigger deal than it is.

Speaking of Graham - as he’s on his way out of the room he catches her eye and gives her an apologetic look as she passes him. She ignores him, resisting the urge to glare, and dodges through the rest of the leaving crowd to join Regina at the front of the room.

“What’s up?”

Regina doesn’t answer right away, instead looking over Emma’s shoulder to the back of the room, and it’s only when the door shuts behind the last agent, that she speaks.

“I heard your happy news. You must be thrilled.” Her voice is flat, almost cool, and Emma stiffens.

“I … uh, well, it’s been an adjustment.”  

“I imagine,” Regina replies, leaning back against the front table, crossing her arms and surveying Emma with cold eyes. “So much of an adjustment that you’ve taken to leaving work early.”

Emma’s mouth drys and she stares back at Regina, blinking hard for several long moments. Seriously ? she thinks in growing anger. Somehow, somehow this turn of events that she didn’t ask for, that she didn’t want , is being turned back on her as if it’s her fault?

“I - okay, that’s unfair, Regina. That was the first day I heard about … this , so - so I left early, yeah. After all,” she adds, bitterly, “Graham sprang it on me with no warning.”

Regina raises an elegant eyebrow, and scowls at Emma. “Agent Humbert was performing his duties as an agent of BDMFP, as I asked him to. I need my agents to be at their best, and that includes following my directions. And, that also includes you performing at your best as well . ”

“I am at my best,” Emma fires back, her voice raising loudly, far louder than she really should taking with Regina, her boss after all, but this is so unfair. She is being blamed for having a poor reaction to the news of a lifetime, and all her defensive haunches raise, her old fighting instincts resurfacing as she braces herself for a fight. “I’m not - I’m not slacking off , Regina, if that’s what you think. I was taken aback that first day, alright? I wasn’t expecting this, I needed some time to compose myself!”

“I know that,” Regina says immediately. Finally, her voice softens as if she’s finally realized the combative, harsh beginning of this conversation, and she continues, “And that’s why I wanted to talk to you, Emma. I would imagine this news is … challenging to adapt to. It would be appropriate for anyone, even someone like you, to take a few days off and adjust to this properly.”

Emma shakes her head and takes a deep breath, swallowing down her bubbling rage. Logically, Emma understands what Regina is saying, but there’s no way in hell she is taking any more time off. She’s only just gotten back after her days off because of the media disaster with Killian and Will Scarlet. She can’t afford (as in literally cannot afford) anymore time off, especially if this ends up being an extended leave as she’s sure Regina is hinting it to be.

Besides all of that too, being at home, with nothing but time and silence to occupy her thoughts … that is the opposite of what she wants.

“I don’t want any more time off, I’m fine . This isn’t going to impact my work, Regina. That first day - that won’t happen again. I promise.”

Regina regards her with unreadable eyes, before she shrugs finally, as if unbothered by this whole thing after all.

“Alright, Emma. I’ll take your word on it. But remember, when you’re at work, I expect you to be at work . Leave your personal life to after hours. Is that understood?”

Emma nods stiffly. “Yes. I understand.”

“Good.” Regina pushes off the front table and picks up two thick stacks of yellow paper off the table behind her,  each stack held together with a black alligator clip. She holds them out to Emma, the papers so heavy in their stack they flop down around on each side. “This is the paperwork for each returnee’s exit. These ones are prepared for your parents already; you can give it to them.”

Your parents .

It’s the first time someone has said the words your parents so casually, so normally, as if it’s something one would say to Emma all the time. The sound of the words make her freeze up, and she doesn’t immediately take the papers from Regina, her fingers turning numb and cold.

At her hesitation, Regina’s eyes gleam in a strange mix of triumph and frustration, and Emma snaps quickly out of her shock. This was a test set by Regina, and Emma fears she’s already failed it. Even though it’s Graham’s job to distribute this to Mary Margaret and David, Regina is testing her, wanting to see how she’ll react when faced with working as an agent of Storybrooke with her parents.

Emma nearly snatches the paperwork from Regina, her fingers curling tightly around the edges and says, as coolly as she can manage, “Of course. No problem.”

Regina nods, smirking in satisfaction, and Emma swallows heavily as she turns back to the front table, shuffling more papers. She feels defeated and tricked, and even though her goal for the day, the promise she made to herself last night, was to accept that her parents were truly and really back, being forced into this by Regina makes her grit her teeth in anger. She glares at the offending paperwork in her hands, her fingertips white around the edges as she’s gripping it so tightly. The top page is a demographic sheet labelled for David and Emma nearly rips the papers apart when she notices that under ‘NUMBER OF CHILDREN’ there is a gleaming, bold font number one.

“Everything okay?”

Regina has turned back around now, watching her closely with her dark, cool gaze. Emma nods, shifting her weight to tuck the papers under her arm, the top page with its gleaming number one out of sight, and she shrugs casually.  

“Yeah, of course. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about or can I get to work?”

Regina is silent for a long second, her gaze piercing enough that Emma feels like every movement, every breath is being scrutinized. Finally she shrugs, making the casual gesture somehow seem condescending and dismissive, and says, “Yes, get back to work.”

Emma doesn’t wait around any longer. She turns promptly, leaving Regina and her biting gaze behind her, and hurries to her office. The place is busy now at this time of the morning, and Emma ignores the chipper chatter in the breakroom as she passes it, the other agents excitedly talking about the new exit plan over their morning coffees. Grumpy and ticked-off by her conversation with Regina, Emma is in no mood to talk with the other agents. Most of them in there are the ones who can leave at the end of the day and not take Storybrooke home with them, unlike her where it’s become a twisting, tangled mess that is now her job and her life.

In her office, she drops the paperwork for Mary Margaret and David on her desk, scowling at it and chewing on her lip in thought. Emma hates being backed into a corner like this and she doesn’t want to do this, to take this paperwork to them, to be forced into talking with them. The universe is sneering at her again, dropping her into the depths of what she doesn’t want to do, and she mutters a swear, still glaring at the paperwork on her desk.

Damn it all, now or never it is.  

For the first time in a long time, Killian feels like himself again.

Granted, he still regards himself as a prisoner within these stone walls, and never more so than in the mornings, as it is currently. Waking up to the low hums and rumbles of the modern technology that surrounds him is when he misses the familiarity of his ship the most. The rocking of the ship in the waves as he would awaken, the thudding of the boots of his crew above him, the crisp sea breeze that would greet him when he came up on deck.

But now, at least, he has some memories of his time on the Jolly Roger , solid items he can link back to that time, a reminder of what he once had. His rings are returned to their place on his fingers, his flask tucked into the pocket of his new jacket, Liam’s old insignia resting beside it. The weight of these items, something he took for granted until he no longer had them, is an anchor, tethering him back to the past he’s lost. He may still be a stranger in a new world, but at least he has parts of his old life with him.

With a lighter spring to his step, his growling stomach sends him from his room, down to the breakfast hall. The large area is filled with other returnees, most halfway through their breakfasts, and once Killian has collected his own serving of toasted bread and bowl of fresh fruit, he surveys the room for a free table. To his delight, he spots Alice and Cyrus at a table near him, and he moves to join them as Alice catches his eye and waves him over.

They both a bit strange, particularly Alice, but Killian likes to keep up with them nevertheless. They’re two of the few people here who tolerate his presence, who actually speak to him instead of scowl and turn away.

They are finished their breakfasts already, the plates empty and pushed to the side. Spread haphazardly about on the table in front of them are an assortment of pictures. Killian recognizes them as photographs, this time’s version of portraits. Most of them are of a dusty landscape, the ground brown and sandy for apparently as far as the eye can see, while others are of muddy objects, wide-smiling people crowded around them.

“Killian, come take a look at these,” Cyrus says excitedly in greeting, passing some of the photos to him as he sits down across from the pair. “My agent printed them out for me, I used to work in this area. It’s changed a bit since I was there, but see here? This is from 1990s, do you see that man with the long white beard? He was in my class at school.”  

Killian peers closer at the photograph. There is a group of six men and women, clustered around a muddy hole in the ground, small shovels and boxes of rope and hammers.

“What are they doing?”

“It’s an archaeological site,” Cyrus says, casting a longing look towards the photo. “They’re showing what they found from under layers and layer of sand and soil.”

“Like buried treasure,” Killian says, with a grin, and Cyrus and Alice both laugh.

“Exactly like that, you’ve got it.”

Cyrus passes him another photo, this one of three large triangle-shaped structures, stretching high into the wide blue sky above. Killian has never seen anything like it before, and he asks, interestedly, “What are these?”

“Those are the pyramids in Egypt,” Cyrus explains, and then grins, adding slyly, “They’re older than even you.”

Killian rolls his eyes, but it’s all in good fun. Cyrus’s delight at these photographs of his time is infectious; just like Killian’s returned belongings, these images are Cyrus’s own link to his past. After he’s gone through several more, explaining to Killian his job as an archaeologist, Cyrus picks up another photograph, one full of an array of dusty objects that look similar to the oil canisters that he would see on shore in taverns and shops.

“See these? This is the area I was in a few years before I left for Egypt. My agent couldn’t find an exact picture, but these are similar to the artifacts I was working on before I left. Old Arabian oil lamps, discovered in the ruins of an old temple. I used to have something similar myself,” he adds, with a fond, wistful smile. “My very own Arabian oil lamp. One of my professors at Oxford gave it to me, it was what got me started in archaeology. I remember I misplaced it just days before I – before I arrived here.” His smile fades abruptly. “It’s probably lost forever now, that was so many years ago.”

Alice, who has been mostly silent throughout this conversation, pats his arm warmly. “Perhaps not, Cyrus. I know you’ll find it again when you’re back.”

He nods, and sends her a warm smile.  “Yes, you’re right Alice. I hope so.”

Killian narrows his eyes, an eyebrow raising as the pair of them give each other a knowing look. Alice says a lot of strange things, and he’s used to her thinking that she’ll be back in 1885 in no time, but Cyrus has never agreed with her before.

“What do you mean by that? When he’s back where?”

He was thinking that perhaps the pair had talked about visiting this area of the world, but at once, Killian knows it’s no mere trip - there’s something more to this. Cyrus’s eyes widen, and he glances over sharply to Alice. She, as per usual, doesn’t look perturbed and he leans forward over the table, closer to Killian.

“We’ve been doing some research,” she says in a low voice, before glancing around quickly to the rest of the tables. No one is paying them any attention, and Alice continues, her voice hardly audible now, “on time travel.”  

Killian raises his eyebrows and leans closer to them across the table. It doesn’t surprise him that the pair have been researching it - after all, it’s what the returnees and the agents talk about the most around here. But this seems to be something more than that; there’s a gleam to Cyrus’s eyes that Killian hasn’t seen before, a seriousness to Alice, and a bubble of anticipation forms in his stomach, the precursor to a sense of adventure he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.  

“Oh?”

Cyrus nods excitedly, and Alice continues, her eyes now dancing with delight, “We’re going to find a way for us to go back.”

Cyrus shoots her a harried look and quickly amends, “Well, hold on, Alice. It’s only been preliminary searches so far. There wasn’t much research into the idea of it before we got here, but since we’ve been back, as you can imagine, the knowledge out there is growing every day. The Internet - you know, those black boxes we can use in the lounge? - they have hundreds of ideas of how to do it.”

Hundreds of ideas.

The sense of anticipation grows, flooding through Killian like a wave. If there are hundreds of ideas about time travel, then somewhere, somewhere , there is a chance - a chance to go back to his world, to the Jolly Roger , to his crew, to his life.

“Here’s one theory for example,” Cyrus continues, smiling at the look on Killian’s face,  “I found this group of scientists - NASA, I think they’re called. Their theory is apparently the leading one on what happened to us, it took me two whole days to figure what they were talking about - they kept mentioning something called string theory - but I think I have figured it out. They think that instead of time being linear, where once one day is gone, it can never be gone back to, time runs concurrently. So where for me, it’s a Wednesday in 2011, at the exact same moment, for someone else in a different timeline, it’s a Sunday in the 1880s. We’re all living our lives, unaware that we’re only separated from a different time by something as thin as veil. And they think that someone found a way to open, let’s call it a door, between the two times.”

“And pulled all of us out of our own time,” Killian muses and the pair nod in unison.

“That’s the theory anyways. And if this is what happened to us, then it has to be possible to do the reverse. There must be a way to actively create those doors, because there’s no way that, by chance alone, more than a thousand people from all throughout time would appear in the same spot, in the same time at once. So someone, somewhere out there, knows how to do it. If we can figure out how to open these doors again … well, it’s exactly like a normal door. You go in one way, and then come out the other.”

Killian nods, thinking back to the moment everything changed for him in that flash of white - he looks back sharply to Alice and Cyrus at the thought, and says, “The white light - do you have any theories on that?”

Cyrus frowns, unsure, and Alice offers, “Perhaps it was the door opening? I did see another white light when I went to Wonderland, you know.”

“You did?”

She nods, and Killian is momentarily taken aback; perhaps she isn’t so strange after all.

“I used to think it was magic,” she says, tilting her head thoughtfully. “But perhaps it is science, just like the rest of this time.”

“Could be magic,” Cyrus offers. “After all, nothing like this has ever happened before, so who knows what it is?”

Science, magic - to Killian, there’s hardly a difference, and truly, it doesn’t matter either way to him. He sits back from the table, leaning back in his chair. His mind is spinning with the possibility of returning back to 1748, whether it be science or magic, back to his time, to where he belongs.

It must show on his face because Cyrus quickly leans forward, hand raised in caution. “Don’t get your hopes up yet, Killian. It’s all just talk for now. We don’t even know if this is the right theory . Besides that, who knows what the consequences would be of sending us back to the past, it could change the future! For example, there’s another theory that if we do get sent back, that it would mess up the fact that we were sent forward in the first place, meaning we’d never have been able to go back in the first place, so -”

Cyrus gets into the complicated consequences of time travel, the details so confusing that it makes his head start to ache, and Killian stops listening after a while. Like he said, magic or science, he doesn’t much care how it works, he never has. All he knows is that this is a chance .

But he’s a cautious man. He’s been burned too many times through his life to have get his hopes up by the mere possibility of returning to his time. And yet, the chance, even this small chance, makes him feel like a drowning man catching his first breath of air.

He glances around the room, taking in the sight of this modern time, all the other returnees here who he knows would give anything to return to their time too. All those who were ripped from their lives, their families, their homes. It would only be too easy for them to all, Killian included, to jump at the chance to return to all they’ve lost.

The main doors to the cafeteria opens as he’s looking around and Emma Swan, looking frustrated and on edge, enters the room. She doesn’t notice him, instead looking around the cafeteria, her brow furrowing as she focuses in on the east side of the room. He follows her line of vision, and spots Mary Margaret and David Nolan across the hall near the window.

As he watches her march over to them, her back rimrod straight, her jaw set in determination, his mood drops drastically and he frowns. Leaving this time, returning to his time would mean leaving everything and everyone behind ... perhaps it wouldn’t be so easy to leave after all.

After departing her office, Emma searches for Mary Margaret and David in the breakfast hall, not having to look too far. They’re sitting at a table near the window, Mary Margaret’s head resting on David’s shoulder. Even from across the room, Emma can see two full plates of breakfast in front of them, left untouched.

She takes a deep breath, clutching the paperwork tighter, and braces herself as she walks purposefully over to them. They don’t notice her approach, talking to each other in low voices, and she stands awkwardly a few feet from their table before forcing a grin onto her face.

“Good morning.”

They startle, turning around with wide eyes, and instantly their expressions change from gloomy to gleeful.

“Emma!”

She bites back a grimace at their exuberance. “Uh, hi.”

Both of them are grinning back at her, and it’s clear they are unable to believe that she’s willingly standing in front of them. Emma feels a sharp pang of guilt at that, it swirling down heavily to rest in her stomach. She’s only known them for a few days, only spoken to them for probably an hour total, and already they’re surprised when she gives them the time of day.

David shakes himself free first. “Are you hungry? I can get you a plate of food, give me one second.”

He’s standing in front of her before Emma even blinks, already turned to walk back towards the long breakfasts tables, and she instinctively reaches out a hand to grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks.  

“No, I’ve already eaten breakfast.”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

There’s an awkward moment then, the two of them standing there, Mary Margaret looking between them with wide eyes. Emma steps back from David, tucking her hand into the pocket of her jeans.

“I have some stuff for you.”

She sets the paperwork down between them as David returns to his own seat. She stands there for a moment, lingering, and then grits her teeth, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from them.

“They’re applications to leave Storybrooke.”

“Oh,” Mary Margaret says, and she frowns, glancing over to David. “We’re leaving Storybrooke now?”

“It wouldn’t be right away,” Emma says, and with the way her throat nearly closes on her as she says it, she’s not sure if she says it for their benefit or her own. “You’re in the second triage group, and if the first group’s exit doesn’t go well, you might still be here for a while.”

They exchange a glance, and David nods once. “The second group. Alright, that’s something I guess.”

They look back to her, expectant, but suddenly even more uncomfortable than before, Emma glances down to the top sheet of paperwork, trying to think of something else to say, internally cursing Regina for sending her here. She doesn’t know how to interact with these people, who clearly want so much from her that she doesn’t have to give.

Instead, she focuses on the form, already populated with David’s information. In addition to his demographics, it lists their last known address, a small town over two hours away from Boston, and she grasps onto that fact.

“You’re from a small town, right? I’m sure it would be fine to move back there, Graham would have to check that there’s an appropriate team for you but I think - what?” She stops talking when she glances up, seeing that Mary Margaret and David are looking at each, both frowning.

“When we leave Storybrooke,” David starts slowly, watching Emma closely, like she’s a caged lion, ready to pounce at any moment. “We’re going to stay in Boston. We - we want to be near you.”

Emma blinks, taken aback. “Oh. Really?”

“We could pretend to be your long lost cousins,” Mary Margaret starts immediately, looking over to David who nods in agreement. “That way, no one will ask you too much about us and we can still spend time with you, and you won’t have to worry about any awkward questions or anything like that. What do you think?”

The feeling of guilt returns, slamming into her as hard and cold as a rock. Is this what it’s already come to? She has finally found her parents, but they’re already so aware of her skittish behaviour, they’d be happy to pretend to be her cousins instead of her parents? Sure, it might make it easier to explain to people their age difference, but … it’s wrong .

She imagines if she was in their shoes - if she’d lost Henry at birth and was reunited him later. Would she be okay with pretending to be his cousin, instead of his mother? Would Henry even want that?

Does Emma want that?  

“I don’t want you to have to pretend,” she says after a long pause, clearing her throat which has become croaky and choked. She pauses again, and then continues,“I don’t - listen, I’m not very good at this. I’ve been alone my entire life. I don’t - I don’t know how to do … this. Right now, it’s just - I’m taking it day by day.”

“Day by day is perfect,” David says, with a smile so reminiscent of Henry that it’s enough to make Emma smile too. “If that’s what you want, Emma, that’s what we want too.”

She nods. “Okay, great.” She pauses, unsure what else to say. They’re both staring at her, expectantly, but she’s at a loss for words. “Um, well, I guess I better get back to work. If you have any questions about the applications, let Graham know, okay? He’s still your agent.”

They both deflate as Emma rises to her feet, Mary Margaret’s smile dropping and David’s back slouching. It makes Emma curse internally - damn it, Emma, we were doing so well -  so she adds, in a softer tone, “But I’ll - I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

Thankfully, this appeases them, and David and Mary Margaret’s faces alight in smiles again, and Emma manages a smile back before turning and leaving them. She tries hard not to speed walk out of the room, trying to slow her usual quick pace, the desire to run out of the room exacerbated by her lateness to the meeting. But she doesn’t want to give David and Mary Margaret the wrong impression; she’s already run away from them twice, and she promised herself she wouldn’t do that anymore.

Out in the hall and out of sight of the occupants of that hall, Emma pauses, taking a deep breath. Her hands are sweaty and clammy, her heart fluttering anxiously, the bundle of nervous energy she’d been holding in throughout the time with Mary Margaret and David bubbling over.  

“Swan!”

Emma startles at the voice, turning around sharply. Also emerging from the breakfast hall is Killian Jones, and she lets out a breath of relief that it’s him and not someone else like say, Regina.

“Oh, hi, Killian.”

He smiles at her, but it quickly turns to a frown as he takes in her appearance, her flushed cheeks, the tense set to her shoulders.

“Are you well, Swan?”

“I’m fine,” she replies, straightening her back and crossing her arms over her chest. “How are you?”

He doesn’t answer her immediately, glancing back over his shoulder into the breakfast hall. Emma tenses, wondering if he saw her with Mary Margaret and David, and if he did, if he’ll say anything about it. She sincerely hopes he doesn’t - she can only deal with so many emotions at once these days - and thankfully, Killian, when he looks back to her, doesn’t press the issue further.

“I’m fine. Though,” he adds, a twinkle of mischief appearing his eyes, “I believe I was promised rum.”

Emma laughs, the bubble of anxiety popping at the abrupt change in conversation. “Bit early for rum, isn’t it?” she replies, smirking at him.

“It’s never too early for rum,” he counters swiftly, and Emma laughs again. It’s surprising how much better she feels already, and she can’t help but wish it would be this easy with her parents as it is with Killian.

But she’s also known Killian longer, even if it is just for a few weeks, as she’s been his agent. And in her role as his agent, she needs to tell him about the fact that returnees will be leaving Storybrooke soon. She remembers their previous conversation, just after he was released from the isolation rooms, that he would one day be allowed to leave Storybrooke, and she knows how thrilled he will be to hear this news.

And though her stomach still flips uncomfortably at the thought of him leaving Storybrooke once and for all - because she’s not sure he’s ready for it, she tells herself sternly - selfishly, she wants to be the one to tell him, to see the delight it will bring him. He’s been so miserable here, and perhaps this will bring a bit of light back into his life.

“Walk with me, Killian,” Emma says, gesturing for him to follow her. “I’ve got something I think you’ll like better than rum.”