#‘do they distrust and lie to the person they love above all? i’m supposed to be the one you tell.’

[yanderecandystore]

hellu, can I request how would Delinquents, teachers, and bullies react to female reader pepper-sprayed the twins for self-defense when they try to beat up reader?

Hello, it's been a while, I'm sorry it took so long- I've been dealing with a lot of school assignments and I can't lie that I have frequent breakdowns over this-

I'll try and upload the requests that I already have and see if I should open up for requests again, or leave it be closed until the waves of work I need to do gets less overwhelming.

I hope y'all are doing great, stay safe everyone.

I'll make this a very short scenario boo.

TW: this is basically a civil war at this point- // for each pair, I'll add a different context (since technically the delinquents aren't from the same institution as the bullies) // female reader // bullying // self defense // anxiety // bullying (verbal and physical) // mentions of stalker behavior and brief mentions of distrust and paranoia

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Triple Spice combo [Yandere!Teachers / Yandere!Delinquents / Yandere!Bullies x F!Reader - Scenario]:

🎇Let me set the stage for a quick sec!🎇

So I'll explain what will happen- This is basically a post with three different timelines, each one based on each character type you're more interested in (example: you want some sour delinquents? You can follow the delinquent timeline and see how they react). Each follows almost similar circumstances, but still a bit differently to be able to fit for each individual timeline.

Come with me boo cause this one is long!

🎆: 🍒Bully's Timeline🍭

You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Unfortunately for you, they seem to be heading to the same location as you, apparently they also studied there- Although it should have been quite obvious. You're not the type to confront people physically, and you don't really feel like capable of fighting people of on your own, but because with their constant presence in your life you started to feel the need to get yourself prepared for what was going to come- Especially since you didn't feel like you could count on anyone.

You bought pepper spray in hopes of being able to stop your tormentors from continuing with their sick game.

That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.

✳️🍒Bullies🍭:

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

It was so fast and so painful that she couldn't even understand what just happened- Like- How dare you?! How fucking dare you?!! You think this is funny? This wasn't supposed to happen at all!

"- AAAAH!- what?- OH MY GOD-" Alexandra wasn't able to even finish her sentence, the pain was too much for her to handle. As she dropped to the ground trying to clean her eyes out, she couldn't help but feel confused as to what had even happened.

How could you do something so cruel to her?? Yes, she followed you, bullied you, made rumours about you, pulled your hair a couple of times and maybe she did throw insults towards you- But she didn't try to blind you!!

The worst part isn't even the humiliation she is going through, it's the fact you thought you would be able to pull a stunt like this and go away without any scars- She is so, absolutely livid by your stupidity.

Alexandra knows you must be liking this- And you know what? Enjoy your last free moments cause she will make sure you'll pay for it. She'll make sure to have a proper revenge under her sleeve, a proper punishment for harming someone like her in public.

Darling, darling, I hope you start looking behind your back from now on, never know what could happen when the person who is obsessed with you is just as insanely pissed off as they're madly in love with you.

→ Adrien Coldwell:

It was so fast and so painful that he couldn't even understand what just happened- Like- How dare you?! How fucking dare you?!! You think this is funny? This wasn't supposed to happen at all!

"- What- Oh my God I'm DYING!-" Adrien would be a lot more dramatic about it, even if he can articulate in great detail how much it hurts. In his panicked state, he started trying to wipe the substance with his sleeves- Which only helped to spread it more.

How fucking dare you not only hurt his precious eyes but also humiliate him on public like this?! What has gotten into you?? Yeah- I guess he did say hurtful stuff, followed you around to torment you, did throw stuff at you- But ya know- He didn't try to take your eyeballs out!?? Now that he thinks about it, he probably should have.

Adrien has a very weird view on your "relationship"- He thinks you're above him and so he must push you down, he loves you but being gentle with you will leave you to pull this kind of shit.

You're probably laughing to yourself now, the man is temporarily blind and you are laughing at him, you're somehow worse than he thought.

Still, he'll make you pay for it, don't worry about it dearest- You're fucked regardless. You tried to stand against him and now sadly he'll have to put you in your place again. Don't worry, it won't be so early- He still needs to prepare his plan.

Darling, darling, I hope you start looking behind your back from now on, never know what could happen when the person who is obsessed with you is just as insanely pissed off as they're madly in love with you.

🎆: 🍎Teacher's Timeline📕

You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Unfortunately for you, they seem to be heading to the same location as you, apparently they also studied there- Although it should have been quite obvious. You're not the type to get physical when it comes to defending yourself, but you felt that you still needed to do something about it- You talked with the only person you could trust in this moment, since they were your mentor and you needed some guidance from someone that could potentially help you solve this out.

Their idea was to be able to personally see the harassment happening so they could have visual proof of who is doing what to you, hopefully being able to expel the ones causing you harm.

They personally gave you pepper spray in hopes that if they aren't near you to help you, you can at least defend yourself in some way.

That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.

✳️🍎Teachers📕:

→ Matthew Robinson:

Although you thought to be in a situation where no one would be able to help you- Causing you to use your only item of self-defense- That couldn't have been further from the truth, as Matthew has made sure to pay close attention to you after you came by and ask for his guidance. It was a call for help and he would have been a horrible mentor to not make sure you'll follow his instructions, and it seemed like you did perfectly fine.

He got to be present to not only see the ones causing you harm, but also to see how well you're able to take care of yourself. He was going to intervene as soon as he saw them come closer, but you managed to stop them all by yourself- Honestly he is very proud of you for being able to stand your ground.

Since Matthew was able to see them starting the aggression just like many other witness surrounding the scene, he felt like he had an argument strong enough to be able to properly punish your bullies- Of course he is aware that the Coldwells have a reputation for getting staff members fired for trying to reprimanding them, but honestly he has been inside this place long enough already.

Getting fired isn't his problem, his problem is not being able to give them what they deserve for frightening you, and even worse than that: He needed to make sure you would stay safe in and out of college- You came to him saying they were following you outside of your classes, so of course he'll be worried for your safety.

After expelling the Coldwells, Matthew will just need to find a way of keeping you safe and under his surveillance, you may need more guidance after all, and it would be extremely worrying to not have you by his side. He just needs to plan out a better schedule for you two, one where he can be more present in your life after you're done with your classes.

I wonder what plan comes to his mind.

→ Madeline Allen:

Although you thought to be in a situation where no one would be able to help you- Causing you to use your only item of self-defense- That couldn't have been further from the truth, as Madeline has made sure to pay close attention to you after you came by and ask for her guidance. Madeline has been following you while you walked through the school's halls as she recorded every interaction you had with any of the other students. After you called her for help she entered full protection mode, she was set on getting your tormentors expelled.

However, Madeline hasn't been inside the institution to be able to earn the trust of the other teachers, or even the principal themselves- She needed some evidence and better witness testimony than those from students who were terrified of getting in trouble with the bullies around this place. You could say she had a guess as to who could be causing you trouble but she wouldn't be allowed to take action unless she could prove their identity and involvement in bullying you.

She gave you the pepper spray hoping you would feel less worried, to feel calmer in knowing you had not only something that you could use against them but also to symbolize how she would be there for you if you needed. Seeing you using it for the first time as you spray in the eyes of the culprits made her realize that she was in fact correct. Of course it's them, right?

If there is something wrong happening in Amaryllis, you can almost always pin it for being the Coldwell's fault. Bullying it's probably the least surprising thing this little demons have been accused of- Still, their rein over this institution and your worried little mind ends today, she doesn't care if she lost her job or if they try ruining her life by blackmailing her and such-

They can try but she is pretty sure they won't have any luck finding her, what can I say, she is good at burning evidence. What worries her though it's what will happen to you if they ever try to take their frustrations out on you again. She can't allow that to happen, you'll end up getting hurt and she'll feel awful if it was because of her interference in the case.

You need her help after all, right? You did come to her asking for guidance, and clearly you know nothing about physical self-defense- You clearly need someone to take care of you dearest. She needs to plan this out carefully, not only so the twins aren't allowed in school's grounds but to hopefully be able to guide you even if she is not your teacher anymore. But how could she have you near her everyday after classes?

I wonder what plan comes to her mind.

🎆: 🍋Delinquent's Timeline🐍

You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Fortunately for you, they didn't seem to go the same college as you did- Yet what you should have known was that nothing in life could have been so simple, you would still see them again over and over again after that incident. You started to feel anxious knowing that they were probably stalking you to know exactly when and where to find you, and since you already have to deal with going to a horrible institution and fearing for your own safety everyday.

You bought pepper spray so you could defend yourself not only from your stalkers but also from any possible classmate that could end up trying something weird with you.

That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.

✳️🍋Delinquents🐍:

→ Jackson Macnee:

He doubts you noticed that he was there when that happened, he doubts that you even care if he is staring at you at all- He always thought you were probably too scared of him to even tell him to stop, most people aren't scared of his appearance but are at least aware of his title, so they at least respect the path he walks. He is already used to this.

But let me tell you, to see the Coldwells come so near his territory seemed pretty interesting at first- Until he discovered why they were dumb enough to come here. He didn't know you were being bullied, let alone by these brats- He did notice you had changed your behavior recently, although he didn't pay any attention to it because he thought you were just getting accustomed with the way things work around Saint's Bernard hellhole of a place.

He was hoping that maybe you were just having issues with settling in- It is a rough place after all, and although he wishes deep down to be able to help you feel stronger he still feels like he shouldn't make you do something you don't want to. If you wished to talk to him, you should just go straight to him (even if he is aware of how terrifying that could be).

However, Jack was so far from the truth. His assumptions were confirmed fake after he saw the twins Coldwell treat you like he treated him- It was unbearable to watch, it was like he was seeing his past collide with his present self, you were reminding him of all the things he hated about himself, while also bringing his blood to boil in a desperate need to help you out. Yet he didn't need to do anything about it, you managed to defend yourself on your own.

It wasn't as rewarding to watch as he wanted it to be, but you sure did crack their ego pretty badly- He shouldn't have doubted you, after all he has been stalking you for so long, he should have known what you were capable of doing. Still, he doesn't trust the Coldwells enough to just let them run away like that, they would probably come back soon.

In the meantime, this should be a good excuse to get to talk with you, right? You clearly need some actual training, some flimsy pepper spray bottle isn't going to stop them from coming back. I hope you're ready to be trained by a lovesick delinquent, he won't be soft until he knows you can stand on your own.

→ Jannette Sartorius

She doubts you noticed that she was there when that happened, she doubts that you even care if she is staring at you at all- She always thought you were probably too scared of her to even tell her to stop, most people are scared of her. She is trying to get used to it.

Janette thinks she has every reason to observe you from afar, you're beautiful and you seem too precious to be in a place as horrible as this one, it must suck a lot for you to be somewhere like this-Seeing people like her.

She considered calling you to join her gang, but she is sure that you'll probably deny the offer- Physical confrontation was never your thing right? She can respect that.

Although you don't talk with her, or even interact with the other students at all, she did notice you were acting a bit more- Reclusive these days. Something was wrong, and sadly she would have to find out about it way too late.

Janette didn't know the twins personally, she knew they were rich and famous but- Yeah, she didn't really care about knowing anything about them, they're just some pretty faces amongst the others in the fashion industry. She does envy them a little bit, but tries to avoid anything relating to them since she feels self-conscious looking at their pictures. Now she has a new reason to hate their porcelain faces, they were stalking you.

They were stalking you and taunting you, and if you didn't do anything to stop them she would have already jumped in. They were alone, and honestly she doubts they have any idea of how to go one on one with someone- There is no way these brats have any experience in fighting, right?

Well, she didn't get to know that since they ran away after you sprayed their faces with pepper spray, clever girl.

She knows this is probably not the end of this, they did threaten to come back and hurt you for defending yourself. But you know- She doesn't plan on letting that happen, not again. Consider yourself lucky cause now you just got a new best friend who I set on protecting you.

Is there something wrong with that? Aren't you happy with being her friend? Well, you could just go to "girlfriends" if that's what you want- She wouldn't mind it at all.

Janette prefers to take care of you without you having to watch her beat someone's ass- But she could teach you a few things if you wished to, hey, spending time with someone so cool it's always nice, so of course she'll take every chance she can to spend as much time with you as possible.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[onebizarrekai]

undeniable proof that shuichi and kokichi were gay in v3

prepare yourself for the most big brain thing that has ever bigged your brain

chapter 1

shuichi saihara spends this chapter following kaede around because they were just trapped in a godforsaken killing game and everything seems to suck. when faced with a situation such as this, the natural inclination is to either find someone to latch onto or to distrust and stick to oneself. shuichi does the former because he is a twiggy little man who would probably die in a fight before anyone even attacked him.

what is kokichi doing in this chapter? sticking to himself? stalking someone? that is the real question. nobody knows what he is doing because he is not the protagonist and not the obligatory party companion. however, since v3 follows a theme of fiction, it is totally logical to believe that some system must be in place, but kokichi is not bound by such a system because kokichi represents anarchy.

he does not stick with another for all to see, nor does he remain alone. alas, he searches for a secret companion and has not found one yet. who shall he find? shall he find any? the truth is, he gravitates towards shuichi. it’s supposed to be in secret, but there is a way in the game to see what really happened.

if you speak to tsumugi right before everyone is asked to gather at the cafeteria a second time, she mentions sonic the hedgehog. kokichi runs by, saying “got to go fast”. this means that kokichi has either played sonic the hedgehog or is at least well-versed in sonic memes. if you get this dialogue, and only if you get it, later, kokichi makes another sonic reference, saying “faker? I think you’re the fake hedgehog around here!” while he confuses everyone, the dialogue makes the odd choice of stopping on shuichi, even though the dialogue box only includes “…” and nothing else.

chapter 2

if you have unlocked tsumugi’s sonic dialogue and go to the monomono machine, you now have a 5% chance of getting sonic merchandise. if you give this merchandise to kokichi, you get some interesting dialogue. he says “wow, shuichi! how did you know that I grew up playing sonic and that it’s my absolute favorite video game series of all time?” this immediately maxes out all 5 of his friendship fragments, and you can get all 5 of his hangouts without giving him any more presents. you’re probably wondering why this is important, but you will see.

as kaede is now dead, shuichi finds himself horribly alone. while kaito is there and starts calling him his sidekick, the force of protagonist syndrome has caused shuichi to gain the courage to hang out with anyone, including kokichi of course. I don’t need to talk about kokichi’s hangouts. they literally end with “I stole your heart, so now I’m satisfied!” and it doesn’t get gayer than that.

or does it?

if you investigate the bathroom part of ryoma’s lab during this chapter and click on a very specific spot in order to enter one of the stalls, you can click on the toilet 5 times and shuichi will lie down on the floor. while it’s to investigate the underside of the toilet, and there is nothing to be found, the words “kokichi was here” are written on the ceiling above the stall. if you’ve already hung out with kokichi at least once in this chapter, shuichi will sigh and wonder what kokichi is doing right now.

if you’ve given kokichi the sonic merchandise, and you reach kokichi’s final free time event in this chapter, he will actually question shuichi after he finishes bandaging kokichi’s finger up, briefly commenting on how shuichi managed to get close to him so quickly and asking him “what his trick is”. he says “you must like me a whole lot, shuichi. I hope you don’t bail on me after this.” word for word, literally just hear me out.

“kokichi places his warm hand on mine, and I feel like he’s prying much deeper than he usually does.”

“I didn’t think that was possible…”

chapter 3

little did you know, giving kokichi the sonic merchandise unlocked a bonus hangout. yes, you heard me right. a WHOLE bonus hangout. you can hang out with him again whenever you want in this chapter. kokichi only says “good to see you.” you can select yes or no.

the screen will fade to black.

you have used up a free time.

if you have reached this hidden part of kokichi’s relationship sequence, random dialogue that isn’t in the normal game starts getting sprinkled in, as well as certain easter eggs. when angie starts her whole shtick, since you’ve already hung out with kokichi 5 times, there are a few things he has to say straight up, like how he’s going to teach shuichi about cults so shuichi doesn’t accidentally join the student council.

chapter 4

now that you’ve finally reached chapter 4 and activated the secret kokichi pathway, you get a hidden scene, much like the others that are triggered by having specific items in your inventory. in the middle of the night, kokichi breaks into shuichi’s room and shakes him awake, telling him that someone stole his almond milk.

shuichi tells kokichi to shut up and rolls over.

fun fact, if you get the hangout with miu where she checks whether shuichi is a virgin, she does, in fact, say “ha, I can’t believe this!” and if you zoom in the window behind her, you can barely make out kokichi’s face. peering in. watching you. if you click on him at any point during this hangout, you will hear a voice clip of kokichi’s laugh and shuichi will internally respond to miu’s dialogue differently. he will think “miu is the last person I need to know about this…”

in this sonic dialogue route, shuichi responds slightly differently to kokichi revealing that he is the mastermind. although his dialogue is mostly the same, he counts approximately 22 extra crying sprites, implied to be caused by additional heartbreak.

chapter 5-6

these chapters play out mostly the same way until the very end, the only exception being when you’re investigating kokichi’s lab. if you click on kokichi’s throne 13 times, one of the bookshelves will slide out of the way to reveal a hidden bathroom. there is an envelope taped to the wall that says “for my beloved detective, who habitually smacks things over and over.” it says “if you’re reading this, I’m probably dead. or am I? wouldn’t you like to know? nishishi.” shuichi comments about the fact that kokichi literally wrote that stupid laugh out, only to start crying again.

make sure that you have kind lie equipped as one of your skills before you start the final trial.

if you’ve done everything exactly according to plan up to this point, the ending is different.

tsumugi decides to show kokichi’s audition tape instead of kaede’s. he says “I’d love to be a part of danganronpa! I can finally be a bad guy without being scared!” but then kokichi looks directly at the camera. he says “naw, just messing with you. guess who?”

the screen cracks.

kokichi has suddenly entered the scene of the trial. tsumugi looks horrified. her wig falls off. everyone is at a loss for words. suddenly the screens and lights around them start to black out until everyone is left in almost complete darkness.

shuichi finally asks kokichi how he’s alive. he’s like, “you DIED” and kokichi is like “or did I? it’s the grand finale, shuichi! I owe you the truth this one time, because you’re my favorite.” everyone listens intently. “you see, by observing your irrational actions, almost like that of a main character… I was able to conclude that we exist in a fictional world that plays by certain rules. but we all been knew, didn’t we? not quite! someone forgot to test for exploits.” himiko just goes like “what the fuck you smokin?” and kokichi just laughs. “my self awareness has given me more power than you can possibly imagine! let’s just say I learned where the hit boxes are broken and installed a few cheat codes in the meantime!”

“no… that’s impossible! this isn’t supposed to be part of the ending at all!” tsumugi doesn’t like that one bit. she just kinda breaks down crying. shuichi isn’t paying attention to her though. he had accepted oblivion only to be greeted with kokichi being alive. as annoying as kokichi is, they are hopelessly in love. maki is a little disturbed.

after passionately reuniting with shuichi, kokichi says the thing. “this world is mine now, tsumugi! you got nothin on this! it’s time to say goodbye to this trash dump and create a new reality!” tsumugi just kinda goes like “noooo!!!”

everything goes black. shuichi has a vision about entering creative mode. kokichi has opped him. they take hands. “let’s create someplace way more fun.” maki and himiko and keebo look at each other because they’re floating in the background and watching this happen even though it’s supposed to be an internal vision. the screen goes white.

shuichi graces us with some internal protagonist dialogue about how he doesn’t really understand what’s happening anymore or what’s waiting for them outside of this world, but he thinks that things might turn out ok.

after unlocking this ending, you unlock a super secret video that you can view from the main menu. it’s a fully animated video of kokichi and dice dancing to world is mine. this is what they spent all their budget on

[uwua3]

Hi Bunnie! Can I please have a drabble where Taichi, Tenma, and Juza (basically the Ō High trio) are caught up in a big argument with their soft!s/o and how they make up afterwards? So basically angst with hints of fluff at the end. Thank you so much!

ah... angst is my favorite trope to write! thank you so much for this request~ i just know i’m gonna have so much #Fun ✨! i hope you enjoy it, have a great rest of your day and i love you!!! (･ω<)☆

summary: love is a choice, not a feeling

warnings: angst, arguments, anxiety, blood, break–up(?), bruises, falling out of love, fighting, lying, mental illness, panic attack, physical violence

author’s note: each of three (3) stories follow lyrics to who by lauv ft. bts !! ♡ making this a song fic :D none of taichi, tenma, or juza’s storys align with one another in the same universe, fyi! please be conscious of tw warnings listed above and know you are loved no matter what *ଯ( ॢᵕ꒶̮ᵕ)ॢഒ*♡ + dialogue from tenma’s part follows iu & oh hyuk’s conversation in the song, “can’t love you anymore” for anyone curious :)

word count: 1,438 (taichi), 1,114 (tenma), 1,235 (juza)

music: i don’t know – seventeen (taichi), can’t love you anymore – iu ft. oh hyuk (tenma), if you do – got7 (juza)

who.

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

OUTLINES OF YOUR EYES AND VISIONS OF YOU

I THINK I NEED A MINUTE

TO FIGURE OUT WHAT IS, WHAT ISN’T

Inferiority, that was what Taichi fell victim to. It didn’t matter where he was or what he did, Taichi would never change to be good enough. Not for the stage, not for Mankai, and... not for you. How could you love Taichi when he couldn’t even love himself?

You had no reason to love him, not after all he’s done, not when he couldn’t be more. Even when Taichi was lacking, you still chose him time and time again. But, why? You had to have some ulterior motive, some plan, some elaborate scheme, to use him—to break him like he deserved.

With time came paranoia, and with that came distrust. No matter how much his heart beat for you, Taichi’s overwhelming fears paralyzed him to the point of no return. What was real? What wasn’t? Did you love him for who he was, or who you thought he was?

Who was Nanao Taichi? Who were you?

THESE CHOICES AND VOICES,

THEY’RE ALL IN MY HEAD

After all, was it really okay for Taichi to do this? To accept this love even when he didn’t believe he deserved it? Was it okay for Taichi to wholeheartedly say “I love you” first even if he was aware you could have anyone else? Being in love with you was both a blessing and a curse, because while it was the happiest he had ever been, Taichi was afraid it was all a lie.

Taichi didn’t know if he’d be able to recover if you ended up leaving. Pathetic, right? He woke up every morning searching for comfort and peace in your presence, and fell asleep every night to dream of your existence. You were his source of love in all aspects of any reality, no matter where he found himself. What would happen if you disappeared one day and never came back? What would Taichi do?

Could a person like him be in love like this? Taichi couldn’t help but begin to doubt your intentions even if his heart knew you would never be a bad person like that. Taichi’s insecurities had taken over his mindset for the worse, and its effects on your relationship was becoming more and more parasitic by the day. Both of you could see it even if it took a while for anyone to acknowledge it.

When the argument happened, it was a long awaited conversation meant to be had.

SOMETIMES YOU MAKE ME FEEL CRAZY

SOMETIMES I SWEAR I THINK YOU HATE ME LIKE

You found Taichi at his breaking point. Where the thoughts became too loud, where he couldn’t hear you over his own anxiety. Even if Taichi was your boyfriend, it almost felt like he was a stranger with how little you saw him. Every excuse in the book was used just so he wouldn’t see you, and you wanted to know why once and for all what was wrong.

You soon found out everything that made up Taichi was wrong. You nearly didn’t recognize him, tired and unable to fake a smile as well as before. His room reflected his chaotic state of mind, messy and unorganized with no coherence whatsoever. Taichi sat at his desk, mindlessly fidgeting with a yo–yo with his eyes blankly staring ahead. Minature origami surrounded every surface to his name, and you realized how severe Taichi’s mental health had become.

A pang of pain struck your heart when you called his name, only for Taichi to not respond. It took a moment before Taichi shot up, stumbling out of his chair to greet you with an exhausted grin. Taichi held up his arms, about to give you a hug like always. “O–Oh! I didn’t see you there! I thought we had our date tomorrow—”

“Taichi, are you okay?”

Taichi’s smile wavered then fell, his fist clenching around his plastic yo–yo so hard to the point you questioned how it didn’t crack. His knuckles were white and his eyes anxiously watched for every little change in your facial expression, as if waiting for some sign of anger.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” Taichi lied through his teeth, moving forward to put his hand on yours. You moved back, and that seemed to put him on the edge, making Taichi almost feel betrayed by your hesitation.

“We... we haven’t seen each other in so long... You always cancel on me, saying you have practice. What is this, then? Have you even been going to rehearsal?” You snapped, all your frustrations of being ghosted boiling over. As you began pacing the room, you narrowly missed the clothes strewn on the floor and knick knacks Taichi must’ve fidgeted with.

“N–No, but...” Taichi gulped, pulling at his dirty shirt collar, willing himself to breathe. Did it suddenly get so difficult to find air? Any other time, Taichi would’ve made a joke about how you made him breathless, but his heart was pounding too fast and everything was dizzying. Before Taichi could ask you to stand still and give his head a break, you kept going, not able to keep it together anymore.

“Why have you been ignoring me? It’s okay if you need space, but, let me know! One day, you just disappeared and never came back.” “But, I’m right here.” “No, you’re not. Not, as the Taichi I know.”

Silence hung over you two uncomfortably, the atmosphere tense. The moment you turned to leave, Taichi broke.

I NEED A WALK, I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE

‘CAUSE I NEED TO KNOW

“Who said you knew me?”

You paused, holding onto the door knob before slowly turning, meeting Taichi’s eyes. “Do you actually love me? Or, am I some charity case to you?” Taichi laughed, but it was humorless like everything was to him recently. You were quick to respond, but Taichi was faster, letting everything tormenting his mind out into the real world.

“The moment I’m not who you dreamt of, I’m in the wrong. It’s my fault, I know! Goddamn it, I know!” Taichi’s voice cracked as he fell back into his desk chair, trying to maintain his breathing to be even despite the tears. “I love you, so much. But, do you feel the same? How do I know you’re not lying? Why would anyone choose to love me? I don’t... I don’t deserve you, even if I love you.”

When you rushed in front of him, recognizing the signs of a panic attack, Taichi fell forward to grip your shirt, his fists shaking and head bowed low. Taking in a shuddering sob, Taichi tried to focus on the sound of your voice to be okay.

“I... I never wanted you to see me like this. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” Taichi cried after suppressing his emotions after so long of feeling numb. You rested your hands on his shoulder, trying your best to encourage him to breathe.

“Taichi, it’s okay. Can you hear me?” You asked, to which Taichi feebly nodded with his eyes squeezed shut. “Okay, can you please breathe after me?” You exaggerated your deep breaths in and out, eventually helping Taichi to mimic your pattern and stabilizing his anxiety for the moment.

Taichi thought when worst came to worst, you would already be gone. You didn’t run away even when Taichi’s anxiety got the best of him, you stayed. Taichi clung onto you a little bit tighter at that thought, even if he didn’t need to.

Maybe, you did love him.

After a while, you pulled back and Taichi’s arms automatically looked for you. Taichi hid his face in your shirt again, exhaling quietly at your warmth. You ruffled his hair affectionately, petting it softly to remind him you were there. Taichi was still somewhat shaking, drained from the panic attack and how strong it was.

“Taichi, I’m going to take a walk, okay?” When Taichi raised his head, eyes wide at the fear of you using this as a reason to leave, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“I’ll come back, I promise. When I do, let’s talk about everything. No more secrets, okay?” You reasoned, making Taichi eventually nod. You two linked pinkies, making it a promise that this was a new start for both of you.

Right before you closed the door, Taichi called out to you, weakly smiling. “I love you.” You didn’t hesitate to respond, knowing your love for Nanao Taichi to be true. “I love you, too.”

Taichi believed you this time.

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

WHO ARE YOU?

‘CAUSE YOU’RE NOT THE PERSON I FELL IN LOVE WITH, BABY

“Hello?”

Tenma could tell it was you on the other end of the line, with your heartbreaking silence ruining the city for him. Leaning his head on the glass of the taxi window, Tenma watched the dazzling and glamorous skyscrapers pass by slowly in the late night traffic. While the driver tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, the star power of Japan’s biggest idols were advertised in every billboard high in the sky. Tenma waited for your answer to his sighed greeting, catching his own face smirking back at him from a commercial playing near by.

“Where are you?” You finally asked, your voice just the same as Tenma’s: exhausted. What had you done all day that made you this tired? Even Tenma didn’t know... weren’t boyfriends supposed to know? Tenma looked around, lost in the middle of Tokyo, a city that he could never keep up with despite being born in the center of it all.

“In a taxi.”

“Are you almost home?” Your voice cracked towards the end, and Tenma quickly sat up once he realized something was wrong. Before he could ask what happened, Tenma suddenly leaned his head back onto the seat, closing his eyes. He couldn’t bear to accept what he had done—or, not done—this late into the evening.

“Oh god, I’m sorry.”

WHO ARE YOU?

‘CAUSE SOMETHING HAS CHANGED

“For what?” You both knew the answer, however. Tenma couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. The date displayed upon the dashboard of the cab seemed to remind Tenma of everything he had done wrong. It was your one–year anniversary, and Tenma had forgotten until now.

“Just, for everything.” Tenma forced out, his visage suddenly no longer the splitting image of teen fame anymore. He looked much more normal, no longer sporting a wealthy air to him but rather a troubled kid with the public eye watching his every move. Luckily, no paparazzi stood outside his vehicle’s tinted windows, flashing their cameras to publish any negative headlines. Instead, it was just Tenma, his taxi driver, and you waiting for him at home.

“Please come home, Ten.” You whispered, sounding like you were begging for this one small thing from him out of his busy schedule. Tenma ran his hand through his hair, trying not to lash out and hit the closest thing around him. He didn’t need a scandal to his name, especially since that meant ruining your reputation and Tenma had already made you hurt enough. Acting like the perfect romantic boyfriend was so, so easy on screen... how come he couldn’t do it in real life?

“Why should I?” Tenma angrily retorted, and that’s when he knew he made the biggest mistake of his life. You couldn’t hide it this time, and a pained cry was muffled behind your phone as you tried to not care as much. Tenma didn’t know why he snapped at you when all he felt was frustration and shame at himself.

“Am I not a good enough reason to stay?”

“Of course you are—”

“Then, why won’t you come home?”

“...”

“Do you love me?”

I do, but I don’t deserve you. “I left my wallet back at the studio. I might not make it back tonight.”

YOU’RE NOT THE SAME

I HATE IT

“Goodnight, then.”

“Tenma, wait—by the way... Nevermind.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t think we’re in love anymore, Tenma.”

Tenma opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling of the taxi as it slowly moved forward. Why was it so blurry? Tenma thought, pulling his hand back only reveal a tear upon his finger. He was crying in public, how could a Sumeragi do this? But, Tenma couldn’t stop, he simply just dropped his cell phone into the seats and listened for the click of the call ending. It came after a few moments or so, and Tenma could feel a pair of eyes glancing at him from the review mirror.

Before Tenma could tell him he couldn’t do autographs at the moment, the driver silently passed him a tissue. Tenma took it gratefully, trying not to sob in front of a complete stranger. The driver seemed satisfied before he turned off the radio in the background, clearing his throat before speaking.

“What’s the matter, son? Do you want to talk?” He asked, but it didn’t sound ill–intentioned like an interviewer. It held a fatherly tone, one that automatically made Tenma want to trust him. Taking a minute to compose himself, Tenma slowly began retelling what had happened during his most recent call, his hands still shaking from the aftermath. As traffic stalled, the driver listened to Tenma’s relationship problems carefully before sighing, tapping his fingers against the wheel.

“Boy, how old are you?”

“Sixteen, sir.”

“You are too young to be this heartbroken.” The driver said, pausing to turn and gesture for the car to pass them. “Well, first thing’s first, do you love them?”

“With all my heart, sir.” Tenma responded without hesitation, knowing his love for you was truth.

“Then, why didn’t you say so back then?” The driver commented exasperatedly, his old wisdom and infinite experience with relationships making Tenma’s boyish actions seem like child’s play. Tenma sighed, putting his face in his hands as he admitted the inevitable that had been eating away at him for a while now.

I’M SICK OF WAITING FOR LOVE

I KNOW YOU’RE NOT THE ONE

“They deserve better. All I can give them is love, but, even I can’t do that right. What if I’m not the one for them even if I love them?”

“Listen, boy, and listen good. They love you for one reason only: because it’s you. They chose to love you, not anyone else. You may not be the future, but you’re the one right now. Isn’t that enough?”

Tenma truly took in the words, feeling a sense of comfort he didn’t know he needed after all this time. Without wasting a second, Tenma rapidly passed a large sum of bills with the most excessive tip ever, profusely thanking the driver. Before the taxi driver could refuse such money from a young teen, Tenma opened the car door and left, slamming it shut with random adrenaline.

The driver stuck his head out the window, yelling down the street, “Where the hell are you going, kid?!”. Tenma looked over his shoulder, already halfway down the sidewalk with his phone screen open to your contact. He smiled, not his classic Sumeragi grin, but a true, genuine smile filled with hope to make things right.

“To go celebrate my one year anniversary!”

🍁🍰 hyodo juza

FEELIN’ HYPTONIZED BY THE WORDS THAT YOU SAID

DON’T LIE TO ME, JUST GET IN MY HEAD

Juza hated everything to do with fighting. You could never count on Juza to throw the first punch, to start something with someone, to look for trouble anytime. Yet, you couldn’t help but despise his violence, even if it was provoked.

Juza had too many scars on his fists to forget his reputation around O High, but he didn’t mean to hurt anybody. Especially, not you. But, how could Juza say that when he came to see you after every back end alley way fight? It hurt you to see your boyfriend like this, used as some entertainment for no good thugs. Juza fell to the bait every single time, no matter what you said to convince him otherwise.

Juza promised he’d never hurt you, but how could he keep getting into physical fights like this?

WHEN THE MORNING COMES, YOU’RE STILL IN MY BED

BUT IT’S SO, SO COLD

You couldn’t sleep last night, not when Juza showed up at your door, bruised and dazed. You knew how strong of a fighter Juza was, so his opponent must’ve been formidable if he could barely find his way to your house. It was too late for a school night, but here he was, finally deciding to ask you for help.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t have come, but...” Juza raised his hand, the bandage messily done and already falling off. Juza was always amatuer at first aid for some reason, and you could see the rough cuts underneath the blood–stained cloth. You couldn’t leave him alone at god knows what hour, so you invited him inside.

Juza made sure to never let it become a habit to rely on you, so you helped out whenever you could, even if it pained you to see him so hurt like this. Underneath the yellow bathroom light barely illuminating the cramped space, you rummaged in your cabinets for the first aid kit as Juza sat on the closed toilet, fidgeting with his school uniform jacket.

When your eyes lingered on the torn hem of his blazer for a moment too long, he ducked his head to focus on your bathtub curtain. “Better not to ask.” Juza simply stated, and you believed him. You held in a sigh and took out the minature white box to start working.

Juza didn’t flinch whenever you disinfected his wounds, and you wondered how much pain he really felt. When you asked him to stay (more for your sake than his), Juza agreed and thanked you softly. Seeing such a sweet boy bandaged in your bathroom nearly made you cry, so you just nodded and kissed the band aid by his lips.

Juza waited until you were fully asleep until he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.” Juza whispered out loud.

You woke up to Juza still sleeping, his breath quiet and arm wrapped around you gently. You were about to smile, but you couldn’t bring yourself to after seeing his bruises had gotten even worse.

How could you keep doing this when it took everything in you not to cry from Juza getting hurt?

WHO ARE YOU?

‘CAUSE YOU’RE NOT THE PERSON I FELL IN LOVE WITH, BABY

Juza didn’t come to you after that. Perhaps Juza knew how affected you were by his late night challenges, or he couldn’t wake up to your disappointment anymore, but he was gone. During the day, you attended classes with O High’s delinquent as usual. However, after school hours weren’t yours anymore. It must’ve been hierarchy season, where arrogant boys thought they had a shot against the Hyodo Juza.

Even if Juza didn’t come by anymore, you still couldn’t sleep. How could you when all you thought about was if Juza was okay? Did he make it back to the Mankai dorms that night? Who’s making sure he’s okay? Is he even okay? Every time you closed your eyes for a split second, you’d see Juza’s gentle smile with a band aid on the corner of his lips. Day became night and it was all the same, since you were awake to experience it all.

You kicked off your blankets, throwing your pillow off your face as it landed with a thud on the other side of your pitch black room. Turning on your phone screen, your tired gaze read the time of 1 A.M. Juza was surely still awake, it wouldn’t hurt to just call him... right? You unlocked it as your finger hovered over Juza’s contact, hesitating.

What would you even say? That you missed him? Did Juza even miss you? You called Juza anyways, anxiously listening to the rings go through before hitting voicemail. Juza always answered your calls before... what happened?

“Meet me soon. We need to talk, you know where to find me.”

WHO ARE YOU?

‘CAUSE SOMETHING HAS CHANGED, YOU’RE NOT THE SAME, I HATE IT

You were right to bring your first aid kit.

Behind the fence was a sunset casting a boy’s shadow across the pavement. Juza hopped the gate easily, landing beside you and avoiding your judgement in the process. You knew exactly why—all because of that unmistakable mark on his face. He couldn’t even hide it.

“Heard your voicemail. Is everything okay?” Juza roughly cleared his throat, settling to lean next to you. You shook your head, unable to find the words in the moment. You just held your hand out and Juza’s put his on top of it automatically, fingers tensing before holding yours. When Juza squeezed your hand once, you wished he could be with you forever, away from all that violence and high school fights.

“You didn’t answer my call. Why?” You questioned, straight to the point. Juza never lied to you, so he looked away and frowned, trying to phrase it in a way so you wouldn’t worry. “Better if—” “If I don’t know, right?” You interrupted with a sharp tone. Juza winced, knowing your anger was justified.

“Juza... I’m so tired.” You started, knowing it was both physically and mentally. “I love you, but I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Juza’s eyes widened, standing up straight and putting both your hands in his. You shuddered and tried to keep your breath steady, looking towards the ground. You never noticed how scuffed his shoes were, you wondered what they’ve seen.

“What? I thought we were happy, I love you—”

“Do you really? Then, why do you keep fighting?”

Juza didn’t have an answer. Even he didn’t know himself.

I’M SICK OF WAITING FOR LOVE

I KNOW YOU’RE NOT THE ONE

“I can’t be with you if I don’t even know if you’re okay.”

“I always win—”

“That doesn’t matter! I just want you to be safe, why do you entertain them? What would your family think?!”

“Don’t. Don’t... bring them up.”

“Juza... this isn’t right for you. Please, give it up.”

“I can’t lose—”

“So, you’re choosing to lose me, instead?”

You didn’t wait around this time. “Call me when you change your life for the better.” You left, leaving behind a boy with a broken heart this time.

Juza stared at his hands, their surfaces uneven and calloused from all his years of violence. Something had to change, Juza couldn’t lose you.

When you received a call from Hyodo Juza, you accepted it.



[whyiask]

Just a Stupid Dare (ch.9)

Masterpost Ao3 Link tws: u!dark sides (not as much virgil anymore), peer pressure(???) i don’t know, Janus is just generally a Not Good person, some swearing notes:.....hahaha.....long time no see...... so things have been a bit busy lately and I'm almost ready to hop back onto my consistent posting schedule. For now, enjoy this update :) expect more consistent updates starting again soon <3 thank you all for reading (please feel free to drop by my askbox to yell at me about this fic! i would absolutely love it.)

Virgil swallowed nervously. Why wouldn’t he be nervous? What was he even supposed to tell them? ‘Oh, so you know how I was supposed to befriend Roman so that we could hurt him? Well turns out, I actually like being his friend and now I don’t know what to do.’

Yeah no. He had to think of something better than that.

Janus was staring at him expectantly, coldly. Virgil had to bite back a shiver at the downright murderous glint in his eyes.

Remus pushed past him into the house, pulling out a miniature metal detector and moving towards the pantry. Virgil watched him go, slightly confused but used to the odd behavior. Janus watched him leave impassively.

“What. The fuck. Was that about.”

Virgil opened his mouth to respond but Janus cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“And don’t even think of lying to me.” The words were cold and quiet, and Virgil couldn’t stop the tiny flinch.

His mind raced. What did Janus want from him? To hurt Roman. To bully an innocent peer. Right. He could work with this.

“I- uh-” He cast his mind around, searching for an answer to the question. He himself didn’t know what the honest answer would be. What even were they anymore? Were they, dare he say it, friends?

No. He couldn’t get his hopes up. It’s too late for that. He was already neck deep in this mess, and it would be unfair to Roman to start being genuine now, ignoring his past malicious intent.

“Time,” he blurted out, panicking at the sight of Janus’s eyebrow slowly creeping up his face. “I just need more time.”

“Time to do what, exactly?” Janus’s stare was piercing and Virgil forced himself to commit to the lie.

“Time to befriend him. He doesn’t fully trust me yet. Today was a big step, he finally felt comfortable enough to come over, but you two showing up might’ve thrown that back a little bit.”

The lies tasted bitter on his tongue. There was no way he could carry through with the plan, he couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt Roman, when all Roman had been was kind and charming and ridiculously endearing and-

Janus’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. It was like someone had flicked on a light switch. His eyes cleared of their hard anger and distrust, and his lips twitched into a semi-smirk.

“That’s… actually not a horrible plan. I didn’t think you’d be sticking to this so much.” His tone was mildly impressed, and Virgil felt his heart swell a little in pride, before shaking himself. No. This was the guy who wanted to hurt Roman. (When had Roman become such an influence in his decisions? He didn’t know, he would never know.)

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about me.” Virgil shrugged awkwardly. Janus barked out a laugh and Virgil felt his muscles relax a millimeter.

“Oh, do humor me. What do they say?” Janus’s tone was teasing and Virgil hummed a reply. This felt so natural, so easy. He could almost forget about how scared he had been not a minute earlier.

“I never do anything half-assed. BS’ing my way through a project? I’ll go all out. Anxiety? Better go all out and make it severe anxiety. Befriending a nobody to ultimately backstab them? Well, never let it be said that I don’t try my absolute hardest to get it right.”

Virgil was almost ashamed of how easily the slander rolled off his tongue. This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t be talking about Roman as if he were just some random kid. Janus laughed again.

“Let’s say… a week, then,” said Janus, eyes glinting with mischief and glee.

Virgil was jolted out of his thoughts. “A week for what?”

“A week to befriend him, utterly and completely. If you flake out, I won’t blame you. I bet it’s pretty hard to pretend to like that absolute loser. I bet $20 that you’ll drop out before the week is over. Prove me wrong, Virgil Summers. Prove me wrong.”

The last words were barely above a whisper and Virgil gave Janus a mini mock salute.

“Maybe I will.”

Remus popped out of the pantry, effectively ruining the moment.

“He trusts so easily, honestly. The wimp tried to befriend me at first, but I showed him what’s it’s really like to be a Stone. He gets so attached and so so emotional. Like waah waah, I don’t want to be your friend, you fuckin naked mole rat.”

Janus laughed and Virgil forced out a laugh too. Remus ranted for a few more minutes about his step brother, before finally moving on. The Dark Sides stayed over for a few hours, and Virgil felt himself relax into an easy state around them again. It was only after they left that he allowed himself to think.

Virgil turned away from the door and something caught his eye. Roman’s jacket still hung from his coat rack. He lifted it off gently and held it gently. Looking at it closer, he nearly snorted with laughter. It was knee-length and dramatic and so unbelievably Roman. He could not imagine a single other person pulling off such a fashion statement, but with Roman, the long trenchcoat and round, tinted red glasses worked.

Roman could probably pull off anything, no matter how dramatic of a statement, if he was being honest. But like usual, Virgil’s main hobby included lying to himself and everyone around him.

Lies… weren’t his favorite thing. They were much more Jan’s thing, what with manipulation and the works. He preferred to work behind the shadows, where no one could see and question him, where he wouldn’t be put on the spot and forced to sound convincing enough to alter someone’s perception of reality. Sure, he might be fairly good at stretching the truth, but that was just that. Based on truth. Based on a solid foundation to work with.

He was getting away with so many lies, and that scared him. He didn’t want to be a liar, not to his closest friends. Janus and Remus and Roman- when had Roman made it onto that list?

As much as he hated to admit it, Roman was one of his favorite people, ever. He had one week. One week to figure out what to do. Who to pick. One week.

It was altogether way too much time and not nearly enough.

He looked down at the ridiculous coat in his arms. One week was all he had.

After that… who knew what would happen. It would be over. He wasn’t quite sure what was going to end, but in his heart, he knew something would never be the same again.

One week.

He didn’t have a fucking clue on what to do.

Only one week.

He took a deep breath. He would enjoy this, as much as he could. He would treasure this time with Roman and he wouldn’t think too hard about what was to come.

He’d burn that bridge when he got to it.

[blazingopus]

Get Outta My Dreams - Battle Tendency

This did not go as I had originally intended, but I am happy with the result. While I do not consider this a romantic story between the reader and Joseph, I will leave it to you to interpret it as you will. Please enjoy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hwyEKVlGLb8

Get into my car...

I sat down in the plush armchair, letting myself sink into the upholstery. I exhaled and let myself relax. I looked up. People were milling about, coming to and fro, standing and discussing, sitting and chatting. It was almost lunchtime, and Italians need to be kept fed. It just so happened that this hotel had a restaurant on the main floor, just beyond the lobby. How convenient.

I cracked open the book I had in my hand. I loved to read, but I never got to read much as a child. I was much too busy, I had younger siblings to take care of. Now, it seemed I had too much time on my hands. I let myself be absorbed into the words on the page, letting them take me away to another place in a different time.

I looked up again. Beside me, across the end table, my brother sat down with a thud. He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and supported his face with his hand. His eyes observed me with slight amusement.

I tilted the book down and looked over at him. "What are you doing here? I thought you would be out with another one of your girls."

"I am," he said with a smile. "I quite like the restaurant here. It would be easier to meet her here than go traipsing across Roma. Might as will fill the time while we wait."

"Sometimes I forget how much you don't like waiting," I stuck a finger in my book and let it close. I give him a quizzical look. "Is this girl different from the others? Or is she just another one to practice on?"

His eyes darted away from mine, almost afraid to answer. " I always hope the girl I am with is the one for me." A slight blush crossed over his face. "I hope she is different, but I won't know until I get to know her."

I open my book again. "I hope you find her soon. If anyone deserves to find love, it's you."

"I don't know about that," he crosses his legs very dramatically. ""You know, you could be looking for a man of your own. I don't think you would have much trouble finding one."

"I..." I felt my shoulders sag. We had discussed this before, and he never seemed to take the hint. "I'm not interested in looking right now. It doesn't feel like the right time for me. Besides, I don't think I would have much luck with men."

"Don't say that!" he dropped his arm and leaned in closer. "You could have any man you wanted. You just need to try hard enough."

I closed my eyes for a moment. "I appreciate your kind words, but we have more important matters to worry about. We are waiting for that phone call from Speedwagon. We should be meeting with him and the Joestar sometime today."

His face twisted at the name. "Joestars. They have been a plight on our family for generations."

"So have vampires. Don't blame Joseph for something that wasn't his fault."

"Caesar?" A voice broke the conversation between us.

We both looked up at the girl standing before us. "Emilia!" My brother immediately dropped the sour look on his face. He nearly jumped out of his chair and took her hand, giving it a polite kiss. The girl giggled a bit. "I am so happy you made it," he said as he rose from his bow.

"So am I," She looked over at me for a few seconds. Her eyes read of distrust, and she had instantly become fascinated with me. "Caesar," she said without looking away, " Who is this?"

He looked down at me with slight confusion on his face. "No need to worry, Emilia." His voice was full of reassurance. "This is my sister, (Y/N)."

Her eyes continued to bore into me. "Ah, yes. I can see the resemblance now." She gave a fake smile. "I can see I had nothing to worry about. I'm Emilia." She offered her hand to shake.

"Charmed," I said half heartedly, ignoring the handshake. Caesar was as bad at picking dates as he was at picking friends. Not only was she obviously fake, she looked like a wild cat. Her updo had this windswept look to it, making the sides of her head look like ears. I couldn't tell if it was deliberate or an accident. "You two have fun," I went back to my book. "I will meet you back here when you are done, Caesar." I let my irritation come through in my voice.

He gave me a nod, before offering an arm to Emilia. She took it daintily and they began the walk to the restaurant. I slumped into my chair and huffed. Another date that would end in failure. Another woman to add to the long list. And this one was particularly bad. She had this air of dishonesty around her. I opened the book again and began to read.

"Why, hello there." A voice said from above me. I dropped the book into my lap and glared upward. If I wasn't irritated enough, I had someone bothering me. A tall man stood before me, a mess of brown hair on his head and a smirk on his face. "What is a beautiful girl like you doing, sitting here all by herself?"

"Reading," I said with a hint of attitude in my voice. "Now if you would excuse me, I would like to go back to doing that."

The man walked to the chair next to me, and sat down with an exaggerated groan. "Don't be like that, Senorina. I just wanted to ask if you would join me for lunch."

I glared at him. "No. Now go away and leave me alone."

The man tisked at me. "Not very nice, now are we." He threw his hands behind his head and leaned back into his chair.

I looked down into my book, not really reading it. "No, I am not very nice. Especially with obnoxious Americans who like to invade my personal space."

He chuckled a bit. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm British, Senorina"

"You could have fooled me. Most Englishmen who come to Italia are not as loud and annoying as you are. "

A huge smile crossed his face. "I'm not like most people. It's a little too boring for me. I like to keep things interesting."

I looked at him, but don't reply. I didn't feel like playing his game. I flipped to the next page.

He looked at me for a long time. "You know," he said with a smirk growing on his face, "I feel like I've seen you somewhere before." He playfully rubbed his chin. "In my dreams, maybe?"

"I don't think so." God, his pick up lines were just as bad as Caesar's.

"Well, since you don't want to have lunch with me," I could see the gears turning in his head, "How about a tour of the city? I could hail a cab. We would drive around and you could show me the sights of Rome."

I closed the book and folded my arms. I dramatically crossed my legs giving him a confident look. "The thing is, I am not native to Roma. I don't know very much about the city. Even if I was, I am waiting for someone for a phone call. I am meeting with someone later, so I really don't have the time." I gave him a fake smile. "I'm sorry, but you should really ask someone else."

He leaned against the arm of the chair and looked intently at me. "Who are you meeting?"

I could feel my brows furrow slightly. "Someone important. My brother and I are meeting with them soon."

"How interesting," He smiled. "I am meeting with someone later too, you know."

"How nice," I said sarcastically.

He rested his head against his fist. "You know, you have been very rude to me since I got here. All I have done is be nice to you, and ask you out to lunch. I thought you Italians were more hospitable than that."

I looked away. He wasn't incorrect. I was being a little too... Harsh. I sighed. "I apologize. I just wanted to be left alone, alright? I am already a little aggravated at the girl my brother is on a date with right now."

He gave a very confused look. "What's wrong with her? Is she ugly? Or is she to stupid to have a conversation with?"

I chuckled. "I wish." I thought a moment. "She's the type of girl that will lie to your face with a smile." I sighed and looked directly at him. "My brother has always been bad at reading people. He doesn't make friends very easily because of it. He also likes to make a lot of assumptions about people before he gets to know them."

The man sat there and observed me. It felt like he was reading me like a book, words written on my face. "What about you? You were very aggressive towards me. My feelings are a little hurt from your cruel words."

I thought very carefully, mulling over my words. "I am a very cautious person. I don't like being intruded upon. And you seem to be someone who likes to cause trouble, to see what he can get away with."

"It seems you read people better than your brother does." His eyes were filled with excitement.

"I should hope so." I looked at the clock on the wall over the front desk. "If you want to have lunch before the restaurants get busy, you better get going. We Italians take our meals very seriously, and you probably won't get a table if you wait too long."

He gazed at me for a moment, before standing up and offering a hand to me. "My offer still stands, Senorina," he said with a smirk. "I would love to see across a table from me. I hear the restaurant in this hotel is top notch."

I shake my head. "I appreciate the offer, but I must refuse. I told my brother I would wait here for him. I don't want to have him looking all over for me when we need to leave." It was a bit of a lie, to be honest. We would be in the same restaurant as Caesar and his date, but I had a feeling that the meal would end in disaster.

The man pulled back his hand and stuck it in his pocket. "Alright then, but if you ever need a nonstop miracle," he pointed a thumb at himself, "I'm your man."

"What's that supposed to mean?" That was one of the stupidest things I had ever heard.

He shrugged "Whatever you want it to mean, Singorina." He walked off, leaving me slightly dazed and confused. I watched him as he disappeared into the crowd. He was one of the strangest people I had ever met. Confident and cocky, but had a way with people. It seemed that the world was just a giant game to him.

It was many pages later when I saw Caesar walk up to the front desk. The host handed him the phone, and he gracefully held it to his ear. I struggled my way out of the chair and quickly walked over to him. He was muttering into the receiver, listening intently during the silence between.

"Right, we'll meet you at the Fontana del Tritone," he said with an air of finality. "Yes, goodbye." He handed it back to the host, then turned to me. "That was Speedwagon."

I nodded. "I thought so. You had better tell your date the bad news. I'll get the car." I started to walk away. "I'll meet you outside when you're ready." I said with a smirk.

I sat on the edge of the fountain, listening to the water bubble and cascade behind me. It would have been relaxing for me, even with the people milling about. But God had decided that today was not going to be a relaxing day for me.

The man that had pestered me in the hotel was none other than Joseph Joestar, one of the people we were supposed to meet with. In a twist of fate, he and Caesar had met in the restaurant, and immediately decided they hated each other. So much for working together. The two of them were avoiding each other, Caesar moping and Joseph playing with the pigeons. Speedwagon was trying his best to get the two to communicate like civilized people, but they were too damn stubborn.

Speedwagon was not quite what I was expecting. Firstly, I thought he was American. With him being an oil tycoon with most of his work based in America, it took me by surprise to hear a British accent. He also seemed very kind-hearted. It takes a lot of ruthlessness to survive in the business world. He had remained caring and compassionate through it all. What a resiliant man.

Caesar had caught notice of a pretty tourist taking photos of the local architecture. "Where are you from?" I watched as he turned up the charm. "Shall I take a picture of you and the fountain?" She blushed a bit, and turned her head away.

"I don't think Emilia will appreciate you flirting with other women," I leaned over and whispered. I wanted to grind his gears a bit.

He glanced at me. "Emilia doesn't care what I do now. She wasn't very happy I had to leave early. She threw a tantrum and left."

"Oh, no. Really?" I said with fake concern. "I'm so sorry for you."

"Don't patronize me. I know you didn't like her very much," he said without looking at me. He was stubborn about staying moody to the bitter end.

Joseph was cooing at the birds as they swarmed him. He was really enjoying them. "These birds sure are friendly," he said to no one. "A lot smarter than the men around here, don't you think?" He turned and yelled at Caesar, who didn't react besides scoffing at him. Both of them were being stupid. We had a job to do, and the two of them were letting pride and ego get in the way.

"Knock it off, Jojo!" Speedwagon stood as quickly as his aging bones would let him. "We didn't come all this way for nothing. You two better start talking!"

Beside me, Caesar turned just enough to look at Speedwagon. "I'm sorry, but not a chance."

I put a hand to my face. "Oh, Holy Mother..." I mumbled. He was going to make this as long and painful as he could.

"After our Grandfather died fifty years ago, our father took up his torch and spent his life hunting the mask. We Italians value our familial bonds more than any other culture in the world. It is everything to me!" Caesar's voice rose with every word. He stood and pointed at Joseph with vitriol. "That is something he will never understand! He only learned of his grandfather three months ago! A true man knows his history."

Joseph rose from the ground, the pigeons flying away. "Tell me this, 'true man,'" he pointed back at Caesar. "Is your whole family really this dumb?" Felt felt my blood boiling at his words.

"Hold on, Caesar," Speedwagon interjected, motioning Joseph to calm down. "He didn't know about his family because I kept it a secret from him."

I looked up at my brother, anger coursing through my veins. Not only was he making a fool of himself, Joseph had just insulted our family because of his ridiculous rant. "You have no place to talk, Caesar." He didn't acknowledge me, but I knew he was listening. "We didn't know about our family until a few years ago. He's in the same position we were."

He shook his head, trying to downplay what I had said. "That doesn't matter. I was expecting some impressive strength after hearing he fought Straizo and one of the Pillar Men. That's why we were waiting at the hotel." He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as if it hurt him to speak. He hadn't mentioned that bit of information when we booked the hotel. "I am disappointed to say, his Hamon skills leave much to be desired."

I glared at him. "That's what you were doing in the restaurant? Playing around with Hamon?" I looked to Joseph, then back again. "I would expect this of Joseph, but not of you Caesar! We have more important things to worry about than your petty squabbles."

"Hey!" Joseph said in defense.

"Aren't you listening?" Caesar yelled back. "His Hamon is weak, near useless! His defeat of the Pillar Man was nothing but blind luck! How are we supposed to work someone so pathetic?"

Joseph growled. "Now, listen here!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Caesar!" I stood up and met his intensity. "We need Joseph to defeat the other Pillar Men, whether you like him or not!"

"I won't be forced to work with this imbecile!" Caesar interrupted, his anger reaching boiling point.

"Working with an imbecile is better than being dead! We need every Hamon user we can get our hands on!" Why was he letting his emotions cloud his judgement? These Pillar Men could put the world in jeopardy, and he was more concerned with who he was working with.

Speedwagon tried to calm the situation. "Caesar, please! Joseph hasn't had any proper Hamon training yet...."

Joseph stepped in front of him, cracking his knuckles. "We're done talking here. I'm going to settle this with a good thrashing."

Caesar grinned. He grabbed the tourist he had been talking to earlier, bringing her in close. "With your weak Hamon, you wouldn't be able to pick the petals off this delicate flower."

Joseph looked around hastily. "Yeah? Well, you couldn't beat one of these pigeons!"

I threw up a hand in dismissal. "You two are the stupidest and most reckless people I have ever had the misfortune of meeting." I began to walk away. "When you two are done beating the shit out of each other, I'll be waiting in the car to drive you to the nearest hospital. Just find me when you are done." I was so angry, I had begun to shake a bit. Caesar was being so unreasonable, letting his pride get in the way of everything we had been working towards. After we had come all this way, trained so hard, sacrificed so much, he was willing to throw it all away because Joseph was acting like an idiot.

I stormed away, heading across the street and around the corner where I parked the car earlier. I yanked the door open and climbed in the driver's seat. I slammed the door shut, letting myself slump against the warm leather and worked the crank to roll the window down.

I loved my brother. I loved him dearly. I didn't understand why he did this to himself. He was so good at making bad decisions. He always had been, even when we were younger. He had thought crime was better than working a job. He thought running away to Roma to escape his problems was better than staying with what little was left of his family. He let his emotion guide him, and his emotions usually had the worst solutions.

Learning to use Hamon was probably the best thing that happened to us. By then, the younger ones could take care of themselves, and I could go with Caesar to train under Lisa Lisa. Keep him out of trouble for a little while. But by then, he seemed to have leveled out some. Maybe it was because he finally had something to work towards. Whatever it was, it wasn't working now. He had become so blinded by his anger and resentment that he was willing to throw it all away.

I slumped against the seat even more. What I supposed to do? I had tried talking some sense into him. Well, more like yelling some sense into him, and it didn't seem to work.

A figure moved just outside my periphery. I leaned forward a bit to get a better look. It was Joseph, making his way to the car. "Are you two done yet?" I called to him, hearing the tiredness in my own voice.

He closed the gap, leaning against the frame of the window. "I rather think so." He gave his signature smirk. "You're brother's good, but not good enough for the likes of me!"

I narrowed my eyes. "So he did lose to the pigeon."

"Bingo," he said with a wink. "Speedwagon and Caesar are talking about a few things. They said they would be here soon." He looked around, then turned back to me. "What's Caesar's deal anyway? All I did was launch some Hamon de Seppia at him, and he immediately hates me."

I sighed and looked away. "I don't know. He's always been like this." A thought for a moment. "Hamon de Seppia? You had a food fight in the restaurant?!"

Joseph waved his hands in front of his face. "No, no, nothing like that at all!" He scrunched up his face. "If it wasn't for that Casanova being such a jerk and his stupidly obvious flirting, I wouldn't have used Hamon in the first place."

I didn't believe him for a second. "You know," I said slowly, "You complain that Caesar decided to hate you for no reason, but you acted the same way to him. You are guilty of the same thing he is."

His gaze wandered over my face. "The difference between me and that wet noodle is that I can read people. I can tell what kind of a person he really is."

"First impressions don't tell the whole story, Joseph." I returned the intense stare. "You made up your mind from the beginning, and you don't want to be proven wrong."

He began tapping the metal door with his finger. "I wasn't wrong about you, Senorina." Playfulness began to creep into his eyes.

His words made me suspicious. "What about me?" I asked cautiously.

I could see the cogs moving behind his eyes. This was just another game to him. "Well," he began with a sly grin, "When I first saw you, I could tell you were the quiet type. You have a temper on you, but you like to keep it under wraps." I could feel his eyes searching for a reaction from me. "But you are very protective about the people you care about. You also are spicy and sarcastic, having a fire to you that most people don't have."

I was thinking so fast, trying to come up with some witty comeback. Nothing was really coming to mind, but something was bugging me a bit. "What you say is true," I began, mulling over my words, "But you don't know why I am the way I am. You know my actions, but you don't know who (Y/N) is. You can read people very well, but you only read what is on the surface. It takes a lot longer to really know a person."

His grin turned toothy. "Do you want to know me better? Because I want to know you better, Senorina."

I glared at him. "What do you mean by that, Joseph?"

He shrugged. "It's whatever you want it to mean."

"Don't be coy. Give me a straight answer, damn it."

He chuckled. "I don't think so. That would take all the fun out of it, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you want to be friends, I have no problems with that. If you want some sort of fling, I don't do those. If you are wanting some sort of serious relationship... We'll see."

"We'll see?" His eyes sparkled. "You sound eager, Senorina."

"Not a chance," I said, not as angry as I wanted it to sound.

"I think soooooo..." A goofy smile on his face. "You want a non-stop lover like me."

"I don't think you could last that long," I slid the comment in.

"Eh, uh," he sputtered, "You don't know until you try, smooth operator."

"You seem keen on convincing me," I smirked at him. "Go ahead. Give it your best shot. And keep in mind, Caesar will hate you more than he already does. It doesn't matter whether you succeed or not." I looked over his shoulder. "Here he comes, by the way."

Joseph whipped around to see Speedwagon and Caesar, deep in discussion and heading our way. He turned back to me, fire in his eyes. "Let's make a deal," he said hastily.

"A deal?"

"Yes." I could tell he was trying to think of something, and fast. "If I can defeat you in a Hamon battle, you go out to lunch with me."

I raised an eyebrow. "When would we have this battle?"

"Uhm... After we meet with this coach of yours," he manages. "The first free moment we get, we settle this."

I look back at Speedwagon and Caesar, who were just out of earshot. "You're on."

Joseph smiled and pumped his fist. "Alright! You better not back out!"

"I don't plan on it. Now, get into my car. We're leaving." I leaned out the window as Joseph moved away. "You two done?" I called out.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, (Y/N)," Speedwagon apologized. "Caesar and I were discussing our next steps."

"It's alright." I look over to the passenger seat. Joseph was trying to claim the front. "Get in the back seat. Caesar sits there."

"You better leave my sister alone, or I will beat you into a pulp!" Caesar threatened, pointing menacingly.

"Oh? Like you did that pigeon?" Joseph taunted, crossing his arms with his usual cockiness.

I hit my head on the rim of the steering wheel. This was going to be miserable. "Just get in."

"If you say so, Lady Driver," Joseph moved to the back seat, right behind the passenger. Speedwagon climbed in on the other side.

As Caesar settled in beside me, I looked over to him. "Are we still going ahead as planned?"

He nodded. "Yes. I'm still waiting for our man to get in touch."

"What man?" Joseph asked from behind us. He leaned forward so his head poked out between us.

"You'll find out." I said, shoving his head out of the way. I turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared under the hood. This was going to be an interesting journey, that was certain. I just had to keep Caesar and Joseph from killing each other before it all ended.

[aesop1]

clumsy [5]

pirate!chanyeol x reader

a/n: hello everyone! so sorry for the unexpected hiatus. lots of stuff happened with my mentality, but im okay now! i hope you’re all not too upset, because this chapter isn’t too shocking and eventful. thank you for all of your kindness, i love you!

word count: 4.5k

warnings: i think there’s cursing in this?? nothing else

(i do not own the gif)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

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"mother?" you let out barely above a whisper, as if afraid the volume of your voice would shatter whatever hallucination your mind had conjured before you. 

"(y/n)?" she mirrored your tone; confusion with just a lilt of shock.

it was upon hearing the faint familiar voice of your childhood that you found yourself standing and colliding into the woman in question. she reeked of rum and salt, but had that same undertone that flooded your senses with memories of when you were younger and playing in the flowers. a blossom of excitement bloomed within your rib cage, a stress akin to awakening on one's birthday, or celebrating a festival, caressing your heart, once plagued with agitation mere minutes ago. your worries seemed to wash away like the waves on the shore, drifting away as far as the eye can see. although strangely foreign, the warmth radiating from the arms of your former matron only served to remind you of happier days.

"your majesty," you heard a voice from the sidelines sputter out, rising from his seat in a frantic manner. turning, you watched as jinyoung bowed his head, hand resting atop his trepidatious heart.

"no need for formalities, young man," your mother reassured, stroking your hair like her prized doll. jinyoung's actions seemed to bring you back to reality, and you found yourself retracting from the comfort of your mother, stumbling into a standing chanyeol's arms behind you. "my flower, what seems to be the issue?"

"you can't be my mother." your eyes darted across her face, trying to pinpoint the flaw that would indicate that what stood before you was merely a mirage. everything seemed so real, though. every curve and every angle, every follicle of hair in it's rightful place. she seemed too good to be true, and you stood wary of whatever figment of your imagination your mind had decided conjured. "my mother is dead."

she blinked at you, bewilderment taking over her prior sense of joy. she seemed to be awaiting for you to reveal this statement as a gag or something of the like, however you stood your ground, retracting further into chanyeol. shaking her head and clearing her throat, she let out a chuckle of disbelief.

"so that's what he told you," she muttered. she tossed her head back to look up at the ceiling, trying to keep her composure. you furrowed your brows at her behavior, chanyeol sensing your distrust towards her and wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders.

he breathed a sigh of relief as you accepted this gesture, even going so far as to cling onto his sleeve. if he really wanted to, which he found himself with the surprising urge to do so, he could bury his face in your hair, shield you from whatever harm may come to you from the woman before you. his confusion equaled your own, conflicted between your blossoming affections towards chanyeol and your reluctance to accept the possible impostor of your mother.

your mother finally looked back down and to you, a smile tugging at the corners her lips.

"yes," you whispered out, clutching onto chanyeol's arm more and keeping your ground whilst remaining eye contact with her. "my mother died in her sleep and her body was transported to the cemetery before I could say goodbye."

"that is far more gruesome than I had expected from your father." her eyes widened as you had elaborated more so on her supposed death, but nonetheless folded her hands in front of her and remained calm. "I know it must be hard to believe me, considering the situation looks pretty tangled, but I assure you that I am not dead and I did not mean to leave you."

"oh yeah?" you scoffed, deciding to play along with the skit. "why did you leave then?"

"I'm an ancient being, ruler of the seas and the oceans," she answered, no hint of annoyance at all towards you. "I cannot deny my duties as such to hide away on an island with my family, no matter how much I desire to do so." your eyebrows quirked up, leaning entirely on chanyeol now; not out of fear, but out of pure exhaustion of the situation. "you must believe me."

"I mustn't do a thing aside from retiring to my quarters," you snapped back, already preparing to turn around until she called out to you once more.

"(y/n)," she said aloud, voice steady and sure. this did nothing to deter you, already patting chanyeol's arm as a sign that you would like to leave. "(y/n), listen to me. to your mother." chanyeol hesitated, looking between the stern glare on your mother and the dead look on you. it was like watching a teenager rebel against their parent. except it was a young adult denying the validity of an ancestor. he was just about to turn around with you, your eyes already facing his chest when your mother captured your attention. "you can't walk properly."

the hustle and bustle of the bar seemed to fade away to you as her words hit. she shouldn't know this. whether she truly is your mother or not, you hadn't seen this person in years. you could've very well learned how to walk in the near score she was absent from your life. it didn't make sense. chanyeol stepped forward, ushering you behind him so he stood between you and this being. you kept telling yourself that the best course of action would be to run off like you had originally planned, but your mouth moved far too quick for your mind.

"how do you know this?" you uttered out, still in shock of what was said. if this was a mere guess on her part, you really solidified her stance with your statement.

"you are my daughter," she explained as if it were the most obvious concept in the world. "my daughter is supposed to rule the waters alongside me. we have no purpose on land." your heart throbbed at her words, and you began racking your brain for any sort of explanation for this. you truly had no purpose on land anymore. why were you so distraught over the implication that you don't belong on the earth? "our duties lie in the water."

"stop," chanyeol demanded, tossing his arms behind him to pull you against his back.

"you are the goddess of the seas," she laughed out, her voice growing closer and closer.

"stop it," chanyeol continued to hold you, trying to ward off the ever approaching ancestor.

"where you topple over on land, you excel in the waters."

"away with you, or so help me–"

"your father and I tried to scare you away from the waters." she was relentless, chanyeol now beginning to back up with you. "we tried to ward you off with tales of ferocious pirates who would kill and enjoy it, yet here you are in the clutches of one of the most infamous ones," she laughed in disbelief. chanyeol turned, wrapping you up in his arms properly and never breaking eye contact with the assailant. "have you touched the water yet?"

you've touched the water. you've touched the water plenty of times from all of your falls and your valiant escape from the infirmary. never before, however. it now had you question your abilities. how you so easily swam when you have never even stepped foot in the ocean.

"what are you getting at, witch?" chanyeol held you closer to him, afraid that she'd actually phase you in some way.

"you swam so easily because you belong in the water. with me."

you were just processing how exhilarating the water had seemed, not really processing your emotions during that time. she was right. she had to be right. everything she was saying was undeniably true.

chanyeol felt his heart throbbing, gripping onto any part of you he could. anger broiled within him, his veins alight with anxiety. he had never been this clingy of anything, let alone anyone. he once tried hitting a seagull with gold coins, all of which are now residing at the bottom of the ocean as he failed every attempt he made. he was near apathetic his whole life, and now here he is clinging onto (y/n) like a child with their toys.

he pursed his lips and gave a low growl, eyes boring holes into your mother's forehead.

"we're leaving," he grumbled, turning around with you, hoping that the loss of eye contact was enough to break you from your stupor.

"sweetheart," your mother called out to you once more. "meet me by the beach at dawn if you want to know more, maybe catch up."

"sehun, jongin, round everyone up," chanyeol announced, stomping out the establishment in a blaze of fury with a gentle hand on your back guiding you away.

why was this happening to you? everything has changed so abruptly, nothing about your life is what you had thought it to be but two suns ago. pushing aside what you've already mulled over, you now had your emotions rather than your situation: your conflicting feelings for chanyeol, and your insatiable desire to have the ocean lap at your feet.

you had blamed your quick affections on your lack of romance growing up, and you're now blaming your mother's affiliation with the ocean on the latter emotion. both reasonable explanations, but for some reason felt too... ambiguous. like there was more than what meets the eye.

you hadn't spared the front desk man a glance as you were too preoccupied with your thoughts, too much so you didn't even realize chanyeol was leading you directly to his room.

he ushered you in and shut the door. somehow, the click of the handle settling in place set you off like a fuse.

"what the hell is going on?" you seethed, dropping your overexerted body atop the stiff inn mattress. "my mother is supposed to be dead, not a damn goddess." you clutched onto the roots of your greasy locks, tugging helplessly to ease the influx of emotions. "she left me, she didn't even tell me she was alive. she could've told me. she didn't. why did she leave me without another word? why did dad support her to the grave? he never told me anything."

"don't blame your father, I'm sure he meant the best for you," chanyeol stood before you, arms crossed over his broad chest. deep down, you knew he meant well, but you were not having it tonight.

"you have no right to speak of my father." you demanded, curling your legs in to turn around and not face him.

"we're not doing this again, no," chanyeol yanked your shoulder around to have you facing him before he held you in place, hand resting on the side of your neck. "now listen to me closely: i did not kill your father. I know everything is against my favor, but I assure you, I had not shot one bullet that night." you stared up helplessly into his eyes. they were large, his usual frown in his brows doing nothing to dim the intensity of his gaze. like a window, you were able to peer through his exterior and read into his inner turmoil. he held nothing but concern for you, no indications of ulterior motives. you knew you could trust him, but you were so distraught at the moment. how could you open up to a near stranger. unaware to you, chanyeol was dealing with his own revelation, his heart near aching as tears began building up and blurring your vision. he had to hold himself back from brushing away the tears before they could fall. chanyeol felt the compulsion to not only hold you in his arms until your worries faded away, but to also dive headfirst off the plank and into the ocean he's devoted his life to, for he's broken one of his top rules in his life. "what have you done to me?"

"p-pardon?" you croaked out, throat beginning to swell with your onslaught of tears. chanyeol's hand slid from your shoulder to your cheek, falling victim to his desires to finally wipe that tear away. the furrow of his brow began to ease away the more he stroked your face with his thumb. it was as if every scrape of his calloused thumb was sparking a new flame beneath your skin like a match against a surface.

"please do not cry." he whispered to you in the stillness of his room. his spine was beginning to stiffen the more he was leant over in this position, but he barely felt the pain beneath the ache he felt from watching your crest fallen expression.

"chanyeol," you let out, eyes naturally sliding shut as you felt chanyeol's breath hit your lips. how you both got so close was beyond your comprehension, but you definitely were not complaining at the reassuring thrumming of your pulse. your hands craved the sodden material of chanyeol's shirt, practically shaking to hold yourself back, yet caught up in your resilience, you didn't even realize your hands had instead begun hovering over his neck, naturally drawing him closer to you.

you gasped as your lips brushed together, the slightest of touches. he was so gentle, just basking in your warmth as his mind became muddled with you and your presence. it was your soft, barely there touch on his jaw that brought him back to reality. he pulled away almost instantly, staring at you in awe that you allowed him to be so close. you were still in shock at what had just happened, face flushed and body light.

"I apologize, I don't know what came over me," he sighed out, hands clutching his obsidian locks to contain himself from going back to you. "you are in a time of tumult, and I am taking advantage of your weariness, I am sincerely sorry, (y/n), you must believe me." as he rambled on, you stood to your feet, hands sliding up to frame his face before dragging him down to your level and pressing your lips together. surprisingly, it was a smooth transition, no clashing of teeth or noses, which you were grateful for as you wanted your first kiss to be memorable in a positive way.

chanyeol was in shock, hands suspended by his sides in surprise as he tried to process the presence of your lips on his. it was the brush of your fingers on his cheekbones that had him sighing onto your lips and giving in, hands floating over to your neck to pull you in deeper. he basked in your affections, never feeling so warm in his life, even on the hottest of summer days. your hands made their way to his curls while his fell to your back, dragging you closer to his frame. his lips were like the softest of fallen petals, his hold on you like the rays of the sun bathing your skin; he felt like happiness. the longer you were in his grasp, the more delusional you felt yourself becoming.

a knock at the door was what disrupted your moment, abruptly bringing you back to reality as you both pulled away and stared at each other. rather than feeling an overbearing sense of regret for kissing a man you only met yesterday, you were instead met with the most fulfilling of emotions your heart could handle. no moment in your life could amount to how overwhelmingly joyful you were right then and there. nothing has ever felt more right than being there with him. a grin was spreading across your face the longer you scanned chanyeol who stared back at you with a dumbfounded expression. you rubbed your thumbs on his cheek like he had done to you, evoking a chuckle out of him as he refused to look away from you.

you both stood there like starstruck lovers, which was exactly what you two were gradually becoming. he was so smitten, he hadn't the slightest idea to how he managed to fall so hard in such a short time. there was no doubt within him when he began formulating a plan on keeping you to himself for the rest of his life.

another knock had chanyeol audibly groaning and rolling his eyes, unwillingly retracting from you and marching over to the door to give the person on the other side a piece of his mind. swinging it open, he spat out a hasty, "yes, can I help you?"

"did I come at a bad time?" yixing had laughed out upon the sight of chanyeol's disheveled locks. "I came because all of the guys left the bar as soon as jongin and sehun told us about your departure. we need our room arrangements for the night as well as our keys." yixing began making his way into the room as he spoke, gesturing here and there in habit until his eyes landed on your frozen form standing in the center of the room. yixing had clicked everything together in the blink of an eye, the cockiest of smirks making itself known. "oh, fuck, I love it when I'm right." he clapped his hands together and laughed, walking over and pulling you into his arms for a friendly hug. "thank you, my dear, I now have something to chastise our dear junmyeon on."

"yixing, release," chanyeol instructed, causing the man to step back and face his captain. "you and baekhyun are bunking with me. junmyeon will be with sehun and (y/n). jongin and kyungsoo will room together, as well as jongdae and minseok." he light-heartedly shoved yixing's shoulder towards the door. "I'm not having any of my crew kill each other tonight, so you and junmyeon will have to delay your conversation for another time of less inconvenience."

"will do, captain," he reached the door and glanced back, biting on his cheek to hold his snickers back. "don't get too loud now, kids." before chanyeol could even consider demolishing yixing, the man had shut the door and ran off to the rest. chanyeol sighed, rubbing his tired eyes as the lengthy day finally began settling in.

"I should get to my room now," you spoke up, about to walk past chanyeol before he grabbed for your arms. you halted in your steps as chanyeol tugged you over to him. you were stood in front of him again, craning your neck back to look at his flustered expression.

"I..." chanyeol was at a loss for words, eyes downcast to the wooden floors. he squeezed your biceps lightly, biting his lip before resting his forehead on your shoulder. "thank you. thank you so much." as the proximity hit you, you rested your cheek on his, soaking in his ambiance before you were to be separated again.

"thank you," you whispered back to him, hands rubbing up and down his arms in a calming manner. you weren't sure what you were thanking him for, nor what he was thanking you for. your first kiss, a sense of serenity during this stressful trial in your life, a bond you'd never thought you could make with someone in such a short time. you just felt incredible gratitude to the man before you.

chanyeol felt himself become putty in your touch, another breathless sigh leaving him. he nudged his nose into your neck, softly inhaling to memorize your scent for the night. so soothing. he could probably sleep standing right there with you in his arms. you, on the other hand, thought otherwise as you feared another crew member coming in, or your spiraling infatuation with the man before you. you cleared your throat, pulling away to face him.

"I really should go."

"of course," chanyeol mumbled out, low voice thundering within his chest, the vibrations tickling your finger tips. "just find junmyeon."

"I will," you responded, hand pushing back his curly locks, taking one last look at him before you turned and left the room with a heavy sigh. once out, the gravity of the situation finally settled. you were in love. you fell in love for the first time in your life.

this had to be what love was. never have you felt so full before, your heart swelling just at the prospect of the man behind that door. his touch lingered on your skin, taunting you to go back and fall into his arms again. oh, how you wanted to return to chanyeol, but you couldn't. you had to refrain yourself somehow, you've already given him your first kiss. who knows what will happen if you're alone with him again.

you shook your head, trying to clear your mind of these sinful, intrusive thoughts before sauntering down the hall to the foyer where the boys resided. kyungsoo and jongin were absent, so you assumed they'd already taken to their room to sleep. you frowned as you began missing your one on one time with kyungsoo, having grown rather close to him. he had to be your closest comrade of everyone in the crew.

"ah, (y/n)." you followed junmyeon's voice to where he and sehun resided, leaning against the wall waiting for you, you assumed. "ready to head over?"

"yes, sorry for the delay," you rushed out, hoping your growing blush wasn't too obvious. you could already tell that you were going to struggle with resting tonight, images of chanyeol's lips against yours plaguing your mind. his fingers brushing against your cheeks, so delicately. you've never been held so softly, never felt so admired. he held you like one of the many flowers of your childhood hosting a butterfly atop their petals. like the dew of the early mornings cascading down a blade of grass.

you winced as memories of your childhood flashed through your head. those exact scenes of flowers and dew drops appeared and disappeared, as well as images of your smiling mother. she loved you so much as a child, get she left you without another word. why didn't she even bother trying to explain to her child why she was leaving her rather than just disappear, leaving your father to make up her own death to give you some closure.

your eyes became bleary with tears, having to wipe them away before the two men in front of you noticed your conflict. as much as you tried to hide your pain, it was ever apparent in your aching heart. maybe you should go to the beach tomorrow for some /actual/ closure. you can't leave here just knowing your mother isn't dead; that she's instead an almighty goddess controlling the waters. you needed answers, and she was the only one who had them.

as you laid down that night, swathed in sheets and wrapped in sehun's arms, you thought it ironic how your life has turned so quickly. all those years, longing for adventure beyond the horizon, over the kilometers of blue trapping you on this little island, you finally got a taste of what you've always wanted. things never turn out the way you want them to, as you've learned so far. it all seemed too surreal to be anything but fiction, but here you lie in a pirates grasp as the blood of a higher being courses through your veins. every time you closed your eyes, recurrent visions of your long forgotten childhood continued to torment your already clustered thoughts.

why couldn't you remember your childhood?

glimpses of your mother and a field of flowers, your mother on your bed scaring you with tales of the seas... that was all.

your eyes shot open, scrambling out of sehun's arms and onto your feet. why were those your only memories of her? the rest were your father. cooking with him, shopping with him, reading with him.

flowers and lore. that was all that consisted of your mother.

you paced the small room, stomach churning as you raked your head for any memory other than those two.

you couldn't.

you yanked at your hair, crouching onto the ground with ragged breaths.

think.

just think.

please.

give me something.

suddenly, you gasped out in agony, a sharp pain invading your pleading thoughts like a needle. your perspiration was near ice on your skin, your body overcome by convulsions. the walls began closing in, a darkness creeping into your vision. without another thought, you stood and evacuated the room. barreling down the hallways like a madman, you probably alerted the all too nice boy at check in, but you couldn't care less as you fell victim to your own turmoil, allowing your legs to carry you wherever they desired.

it just so happened that they took you right to the root of all of your problems.

you stared out to the inky black depths mocking you, the water lapping at the sand just at your feet, but never touching you. you found yourself craving it's embrace, just the faintest of droplets on you, but it was as if the water detested you. oh, how the tables have turned, the waters now perceiving you as Judas, and your fear now dissipated into desperation. desperation for a place to belong, a sense of comfort and familiarity that doesn't immediately betray you the minute your thoughts kicked in. you didn't belong on land, you didn't belong in the waters. you didn't belong anywhere.

"what are you doing?”

you whirled around, heart stuttering at the deep voice you seemed to have forgotten. he rubbed at his face, attempting to mask his fatigue, yet failing. once he reached you, he tossed his free arm around your person and dragged you into his, a secure hand behind your head. he let out a yawn, burying his face into your hair and releasing his tensed muscles.

by miracle, everything seemed to stop. the white noise which drove your head mad cleared away, the crashes of the waves lulling you deeper into chanyeol's warmth.

chanyeol.

the man who took you away and changed your life. for the better, or for the worst, you hadn't the slightest idea. at this very moment, you just felt relief. a word you weren't all too familiar with, but nonetheless calmed your racing heart and rigid breathing.

"you scared me."

you looked up, unaware of how bleary your vision had become. you rubbed away the tears, blinking up at chanyeol in confusion.

"do you not realize how terrifying it was too wake up to thuds outside, your room door wide open, and you being nowhere in sight?"

you giggled, a pathetic smile tugging at your lips before you rested your head on his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"don't be." he stroked your hair softly, taking your less frazzled state as a sign of recovery. "I know you're dealing with a lot. I know only you can get through it, but don't leave me out. I'm here for you, and I'm entirely willing to assist you and heal you on your journey." he pulled away to look you in the eyes. "I know we just met." a grin greeted you as he strayed from your eyes to analyze the rest of your features. "but you have no idea how deeply I've fallen for you."

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

taglist: @serendibidibidis​ @mrinalexo

[january3693]

Someone We Used to Know - Part 35

(This is a Marauders Era AU about what might have changed if Sirius was expelled after the Prank. Here’s the Master List if you’d like to start from the beginning or find a specific part)

James manages to avoid Albus Dumbledore for two days, which is practically a miracle given they both live in the same castle. Granted, at one point he did have to turn into a stag and spend fifteen minutes eating grass while Dumbledore chatted with Professor Sprout near the greenhouses.

The map helps, but they never did get it working perfectly. There’s still a glitch in the spells that sometimes makes it show people in places they were three hours ago rather than where they are presently.

That’s how Dumbledore finally finds him.

The map tells James the headmaster is up in his office, but James rounds a corner of the broom shed and Dumbledore is right there, smiling serenely.

“Hello, James,” he says, like they’re old friends.

“Hello, Professor Dumbledore,” James says in return, because they’re not old friends.

These days Lily calls the headmaster Albus when they’re not in front of students, but James just can’t bring himself to think of the man with that level of familiarity.

“It’s a lovely day,” Dumbledore says casually. “Would you join me on a short stroll?”

James bites his tongue. He can say no. He can make excuses. He can’t avoid Dumbledore forever though. The headmaster has a way of getting what he wants.

He shrugs, and Dumbledore’s smile widens.

It’s not that James dislikes or even distrusts Dumbledore. He wouldn’t have joined the Order if that was the case.

James trusts Dumbledore…but he’s never quite forgiven the headmaster for expelling Sirius.

It seems an almost silly grudge to bear now that he knows Sirius is alive, but James’s feelings haven’t changed, revelation or no.

Perhaps it’s more accurate to say James trusts Dumbledore to handle big picture issues, like the Order and the war and Hogwarts as a whole. He’s not sure he trusts Dumbledore with people though. Not as individuals with different wants and needs and problems. Certainly, he doesn’t trust Dumbledore with the lives of his friends and family. Not completely. Not without question.

After all, it’s only been seven months since James had to intervene with the missions Dumbledore was sending Remus on. Secret, solo missions to the werewolf packs.

He still wonders what Dumbledore was thinking there. No werewolves, not even Fenrir Greyback himself, were trusted with enough information to make spying on them worth the toll it was taking on Remus’s physical and mental health.

“Hagrid’s pumpkins look exceptionally robust this year,” Dumbledore says as they begin their walk in the direction of said pumpkins.

James just nods. He’s the direct sort. Never been one to beat around the bush himself, and he doesn’t appreciate it from others. Dumbledore has to know that by now, but he still holds a mostly one-sided conversation about pumpkins and the approaching Halloween festivities for another five minutes.

The headmaster does manage a very slick segue though, sliding the topic from food at the upcoming feast to asking if James had a chance to partake of the food during his visit to the Pendragon Club. “I’m told their elves make an excellent tarte au citron,” Dumbledore says.

James bites his tongue to keep from sighing in relief. They’ve finally reached the point. He also feels the flutter of nerves in his stomach. Even if he isn’t blindly obedient to Dumbledore, he’s still reluctant to lie to the headmaster’s face.

That’s part of his deal with Regulus though. James had to fight tooth and nail for permission to tell Lily who he was whispering with through the mirrors. Telling Remus just sort of happened in the middle of their argument, and he still hasn’t actually told Peter.

Telling Dumbledore is absolutely out of the question. James’s small reservations about Dumbledore are nothing compared to Regulus’s. He’d toss his mirror in the fire before he’d knowingly work directly for or with Albus Dumbledore, and James refuses to lose Regulus completely to the other side. Both for the information he provides, and for Regulus’s own sake.

“I wasn’t there long enough to eat,” James says dryly. “I just needed to check something in the library.”

Dumbledore raises a mildly inquisitive eyebrow. “Something the Hogwarts library doesn’t carry?”

James shrugs. “It was nothing, a dead end.”

Dumbledore nods, like he understands perfectly. James doesn’t trust it.

They stop at the edge of Hagrid’s vegetable garden so Dumbledore can personally check on a few of the enormous pumpkins. James waits anxiously for the other shoe to drop.

It doesn’t come until they’ve turned back toward the castle.

“Are you aware that Alastor Moody thinks we have a mole within the Order?”

James stops in his tracks, nearly stumbling over his own feet. Hurt and anger and fear all flash through him like firecrackers.

“Are you implying I might be a traitor?” James asks. Frankly, he’s fucking offended. “Should I roll up my left sleeve for you, Headmaster?”

Dumledore just smiles patiently, like James is still a student throwing a tantrum over losing a Quidditch match.

“I’m implying no such thing,” Dumbledore assures him. “I trust you, James, but you can see how going to a place like the Pendragon Club while not on Order business might raise some suspicions, can’t you?”

This is where James is supposed to fall over himself to clear his name. He’s supposed to tell Dumbledore everything, like a good, loyal soldier would.

He grinds his teeth together.

“I’m glad you have such unshakeable faith in me, sir,” James says instead. “If there’s anything I can do to help you look for our supposed mole, please let me know.”

Dumbledore seems almost amused by his response.

“Of course, and please let me know if there’s anything I can do to assist with your…research,” Dumbledore replies. “Thus far it has given us many valuable insights.”

He may not know about Regulus specifically, but Dumbledore isn’t stupid. James comes to him far too often with good, actionable intel not to have a secret source.

For now though, he seems content not to press. He seems to trust James.

Which is still almost obnoxiously gratifying.

And that’s it. Or so James believes.

They walk in semi-companionable silence all the way to the front doors of the castle. James is about to make his excuses and leave, but Dumbledore stops and glances up at something above the doors. James looks up too.

Only there’s nothing to see. There’s nothing there but stones and a bit of moss.

Unless you know exactly where to look.

Before they left school, all believing they weren’t likely to ever return, James, Peter, and Remus had carved their mark into the stones directly above Hogwarts’ front doors. “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs Were Here” it reads.

Both a small boost to their egos and an intended memorial to Sirius.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever told you how sorry I am about what happened with Mr. Black,” Dumbledore says.

He looks back down at James, genuine sorrow on his features, but his eyes are as bright and keen as ever.

James looks away.

He’s an open book. He always has been. He wears his heart on his sleeve and if Dumbledore sees his face now, he’s going to know. He’s going to know everything.

That’s not something Sirius wants. He didn’t want anyone to know he was here. Not even his friends. Seems like a very safe bet he wouldn’t want the man who kicked him out of school knowing either.

James might be angry with his old friend, but he’s not going to betray Sirius’s trust.

He clears his throat, coughs. It’s awkward.

He thinks of Sirius in that hotel room, charming and glib, hiding his scars behind smiles.

So different and so similar to the boy he remembers. The boy he loved like a brother.

He feels something tug and give a little in his chest.

“Thank you, sir,” James says. “I’m sorry about it too."

(Part 36)

[lightcreators]

@sunsbreath​​ continue from here

The box made from the kirikumo cedar that Urokodaki-san had crafted for Nezuko didn’t stir. Despite the dubious presence. So as not to draw attention to her own, ( she always was worth more than himself )  Tanjirō merely stopped his steady footing … .  —— and waited.

 With manners ingrained ; bright crimson met unfamiliar purple. They reminded him of the Wisteria on Fujikasane Mountain; and yet — 

           The smell. 

The scent of something both gentle and dishonest coming from this man.  It had nothing to do with him being a blatant foreigner with his clothing; much less that he’d been trailing him with the   smell   for a short while. Normally his straight-forward nature would overpower the strategist in him; those same striking eyes watching not with distrust but mild surprise. 

He really didn’t have a reason to be unfriendly to this man, but for the sake of the precious bundle worth more than his very existence in that lacquer-coated box… the eldest born Kamado child thought through his options. 

( ‘ He isn’t following me for me carrying a sword. Although something tells me he’d know about the customs of not carrying one. And he isn’t following me because of any ulterior motive other than to talk to me … 

—— but I can’t ignore that smell. It’s the smell of a liar, even if I don’t sense any danger towards me right now. But it’s mixed with a kind scent….why? ‘ ) 

“… Shouldn’t we introduce ourselves first?” It’s blunt and to the point; the boy looking straight ahead as he easily adjusts his grip on his sister’s treasured protection. “You’ve been following me for five minutes. I don’t mean to be rude, but you shouldn’t trail strangers like that, sir. 

I’m fine, it doesn’t bother me that much, but if I were younger, it might scare someone. Although I don’t think you’d intentionally scare a child…or well, I’d hope anyway.“ His gentle countenance furrowed; nothing biting to his words, just calm and polite responses to his offer fortified with steel conviction.

Ah well, perhaps he was    being a bit blunt — he had his sister to think of.

“I can’t agree to something from someone who won’t even tell me his name. If it’s alright I can start….ah, well how would you say it — surname last, right?” Quietly bowing half-way the boy’s hanafuda earrings jingled a splash of white and red color in an otherwise lantern-lit darkness in the streets.

“ —— I’m Tanjirō Kamado . “ A beat, still inherently wanting to not cast away the man, but the very nature of his pursuit of him left him on appropriate reservation. He may be naive to many worldly customs…but his nose didn’t lie. Not like this man may be doing; though distrusting anyone pained him.

“ I hope I introduced myself as ah, Westerners do ? “ 

Sentence was told was he was owning the whole world ;  an simple, breaking-limits-of-silence words having the mere ambition to starting the conversation first. Probably not the best tool for entering in communication from an outside perspective: no consideration have been taken about the skills assumptions he was making in the air, neither about the mutual benefit they could created between each other. Lelouch have been likewise an unseen presence that could be felt by the sounds of his feet into the ground. Quiet admiriation about another landscape he usually didn't see, quite a little off-guard about the beautiful shapes of kimono the kid possessed when purple eyes get attracted by his presence. There have been an strange and possible once-in-a-life sensation when, though the gentle mouvement of his gaze, his heart have been warped by an compassionate sentiment. Chance into their meeting sounded most likely into an irony of fate who pleaded above their heads. Such intuitions, into countries who where different of his own, never failed him before --- hence, he was remained that discreet silence in a certain undisclosed curiosity to discover what mysteries about existence he was going to discover. His own thoughts growing internally amused to the immediate consideration he was pulling into the red-haired boy: the kid. Maybe he would have misunderstand the shapes of features who were presented and actually failling into someone older than him but there was no room of casual hesitation about that fact --- he had been somehow intellectually attracted by the features of a boy who seemed, from the place he could see, a little younger than him...unsure exactly what kind of years sepeared them. Another question, during their silent walk during these long couple of minutes, resonated into his mind as it was an comment: why always kids? 

It seemed, indeed, that most of his explorations into another spheres than his own leading him always to eventually end up as an protective figure into guardian attribute. Regardless if he was doing the first mouvement into the chessboard or let the chessboard bring pieces at him, he was facing into the responsability to taking care of younger teenagers --- perhaps a couple of determinated years were physical difference they shared, they always lived with an experience that overcoming their actual age, pushing them to acting as adults or handling considerable responsabilities in their shoulders for their current maturity.

There was thanks who falling down kindly into his features when the locutions removed itself into the bright air triggering that yet-first-conversation to have. Most likely --- introductions. Conscious that his outfit diverged in various ways about the place he was coming from and betrayed he wasn't from here, there was some consideration to be taken about how presenting himself. In front of nobility, the use of his real name wouldn't damaging much --- rather, it was a weapon to be presented for having the best treatment. As strange it could be for someone who loathed aristocrat, he had been used to nobleness customs to creating discovering sentiment to someone who seemed...heriactically low. There was no pejorative tone during that mental note. It was mere a fact he saw. That younger boy transpired something else than luxury lifestyle. There have been no real internal comments about that box --- into how his body accepted the weight, into how there was a habit into the sinews open to everyone eye, regardless of the content, it was treasured.

❝ Mh, you --- attracted my curiousity.  ❞ It had been a casual answer at the instant, as the necessity to give attention to each of his words shouldn't back away. However, how his phrasing was intented to be reassuring and not creating more mysteries about his own person --- though, he didn't care about that. Everyone who met Lelouch vi Britannia was intruiged by the mystery of his person --- wasn't fully controlled as he was realizing that the intellectual approach can be otherwise taken. ❝ I have been a curious traveler awaiting the good time for starting an conversation between each other.  ❞ Truth leaved away his lips with some hint of amusement into his features. How directly blunt honest he had been while showing an caring part of his personality into the half seconds they shared together filled already Lelouch heart's with contentement: he was going to like him. ❝ Scaring a child isn't into my pastime hobby neither to give them the wrong impression of a elder.  ❞ Silence have been left before and afterwards that sentence --- he had been himself a scared kid of a father in which love hand touch cannot be touched, he was conscious of the responsability when people around the same age have to be the adult watch to count with...and himself considering as a guardian figure. He was supposed to be the example, the shoulder in which tears and joy can be shared, the confessional room when events turned out to be heavy meanwhile all his feelings returned locked for their happiness. He might have exposing it into a melodious way for betraying some high-background childhood however the assumption he might be dangerous towards younger hurt him harder than pride. 

A blink of a eye followed soon enough the common way to present themselves. From the features he could saw more casually, there was no doubts about him be born into the Japanese root --- regardless of his controlled politeness which could express it outside of his general posture. Usually, customs would inviting to exposing the last name in first, revealing the forename as a last gift, able to be treated as casual greeting afterwards having climbed the ladder of friendship in the other person's heart to be rewarded by this honor. First surprise came by the breaking habits of that rule as he didn't expected someone younger seeking to avoid creating uncomfortable emotions between then. Second astonishment followed by the permission be indirectly asked into his words choice --- as it was something natural. Refusing to let himself off-guard into his expression during too long, his thoughts muttered an but you're Japanese --- as he couldn't understand the favor he hear before removing themselves naturally. That final sentence, the eventuality he might not be from the same country altogether, making him realizing a beauty he found into that boy. How right his intuition have been into the single instant he had maneuvered on his direction hadn't prepared him for that. I am Japanese too, no need for Western customs were the thoughts who almost wanted to escape his lips as he can't believe that kindness. 

Cleaning his throat, the impossibility of pushing away his softnesss illuminate his purple eyes. An draft's smirk born into his features, enveloping them into a lightness he was not used to experience around other unless some expections. He almost wanted to lauch in front of the unbelieable scene he was living. ❝ --- I appreciate the compliment you bring to me by requesting and welcoming Westerners customs between Japanese people. Kamado-san, my name is Lelouch Lamperouge since you started with the use of another culture and I'm not going to break that neat touch.  ❞ The decision of using his real name was determinated into the minute he was meeting another person --- either it was certain the sound of 'vi Britannia' would make the concerned strugged and not getting further than it, either it was possible than explanations would be needed about his presence of such landscape at the time of the hour, taking care of folk. Something that nation always requested from an Emperor: be mutually shaped into the country he was ruling and be conscious of daily reality...though, that point, Lelouch preferred to have it shut down about, unknown to people eyes. o one needed to know that a Emperor was caring about people when power turned boring. Meaning that the sensation he would received arguments to make push him to not fully say the truth --- it will be another castle. ❝ This is the most pleasant introductions I have experienced.  ❞ 

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [5/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47690671

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #secrets

First Chapter

Author’s Note: Someone mentioned in the comments about the characters ages. As I mentioned at the beginning of the fic, this story mostly follows the New Earth canon. I disregarded anything in the New 52 that directly contradicts that. So the ages of the characters are about as follows: Bruce: 44 Dick: 25 Cass: 20/21ish Jason: 20 Tim: 17 Damian: 13 Ages have been approximated based on clues from the comics. I may eventually tag this as Underage, but it depends on whether I decide to write a certain scene or not.

________________________________________________________________

Tim’s first instinct is to go after Jason, which is why his irritation is entirely justified when a caped shadow detaches from above and lands in front of him in a crouch, blocking his path.

“Father says to check to the condition of Hood’s victims, then wait for medical units,” Robin informs him.

Tim frowns. “Good for him. You don’t need two people to do that.”

He begins to head off again, only for Damian to bar his way again. “Obviously. But he was adamant about it.”

“And since when do you listen to everything he says?”

Damian’s mouth thins, nose wrinkling as it does when Tim does something irritating to him, like exist. It takes him a moment to catch up.

“Wait—he meant me?”

“He meant both of us, for whatever reason is beyond my comprehension.” His permanent scowl slides more to the side of a pout, suggesting he isn’t pleased with the directive. “He was determined to reach Todd on his own when he requested help.”

The kid sounds like he is confused and disapproving all at the same time, which Tim can kind of agree on.

Reaching out to Bruce for help is not something he saw coming. Though, maybe he should have, since Jason always did have a unique ability to act outside the parameters of his own established patterns. It’s why it was so hard to pin him down when he first returned to Gotham.

It’s practical, too, I guess.

Jason’s the sort of no-frill logic kind of guy. He knows out of everyone in the family, the person best suited to take him down if he needs taking down is Bruce—and much as he cares about him, Bruce will do it, too.

He really must be rattled to go with that option.

Tim’s heart thuds a little in sympathy at that, understanding exactly what Jason’s afraid of.

Before he died, he acted rash and could be violent, and was already justifying why certain kinds of people should be forfeit their lives. That conviction magnified when he came back to life. Killing another person, that might not have been something outside the realm of possibility—in a purely utilitarian way. But this—the idea that he might lose control of himself to an extent where he has anything in common with the creeps he’s killed?

Tim wants nothing more than to go after Jason himself, to assure him that he’s nothing like those criminals. But he also recognizes why it’s not a good idea right now.

Besides, B has him. Just have to hope their…usual issues don’t get in the way.

“I’m going to find the kid that was here,” Tim tells Damian. “Got to make sure he’s okay, maybe explain what happened.”

“Whatever,” Damian replies, toeing at the faintly stirring bodies.

Nice working with you, too…

Tim finds the teenager three blocks away, ducked into a corner to avoid the wind, sucking down a cigarette from shaking hands. When Tim rappels down in front of him, he gives a curse and jumps backward, nearly upsetting a trashcan.

“What the hell, man?” he demands.

“Sorry,” Tim replies. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t go anywhere.”

“Why, so you can have a go at me to?”

“I need to know what happened back there.”

“Twenty bucks.”

If this were a gangster or some rogue’s henchman, Tim would probably just beat the answers out of him. But he recognizes that this is a scared kid, who needs to feel safe right now, and who needs to feel like he’s in control. Given the background Tim suspects, it’s not something he gets very often, and will determine how helpful he could be in the future.

So, he counters, “Thirty, and you also give me your name.”

The kid snorts, but nods; as soon as he pockets the cash, he says, “Matt. Smith.”

“Nice to meet you, Doctor,” Tim deadpans, and the kid smirks, but he lets it go. It gives him something to call him, helps ground himself in the fact this case is now involving actual people.

“Okay, Matt. Tell me what went down.”

“Usual thing. Some guy wanted to, uh, show me somethin’ in the alley. Turned out he had a bunch of buddies waitin’. Pretty sure I’d’ve gotten worked over if it weren’t for the guy in the helmet showing up.” Matt hesitates here, his eyes flickering with vulnerability in a way that tells Tim he hasn’t been on the street very long. “After he wiped the floor with ‘em, he went weird. Got real quiet, and he started lookin’ at me like…” He shrugs. “Like, I couldn’t see his face, but it felt like the way some of the junkies look when they think you’re easy pickings. And…”

The kid actually shivers here.

“Man, I thought he was supposed to be cool?” he snaps. “That’s what the girls all say. But if he’s a creep too, why d’you Bats let him go around like he does?”

“He was exposed to a mind-altering substance some time ago, and it’s messing with him,” Tim replies. “He’s not entirely himself right now, but I’m sure he’ll be fine after a bit of detox.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Matt continues to look distrustful. “We done here?”

“Yeah, we’re done.” Tim digs into his belt and passes him a card for the Neon Knights foundation. “Take this, too. It’s not just for younger kids, you know. There’s a program set up for teens and young adults that have aged out of the system.”

“So?”

“I’m not saying you have to go there or even asking you to trust them. But for tonight, at least, a bed and a hot meal are probably a safer bet than working a corner.”

Matt’s shoulder slump a little in defeat, and he looks away. “Whatever.”

“Second person that’s said that to me tonight. I might develop a complex being brushed off so easy.”

The teen’s mouth twitches.

Good sign. If you can still smile so easily, it’s not to late for you.

There’s buzz in his ear and Tim’s comm crackles to life. “B is bringing Red Hood back to the Cave.”

“Without a fight?” Tim asks, pressing the speaker to his ear.

“Hood asked him to sedate him.”

Shit.

If that’s not an indicator of how dire he thinks the situation is! Something like this only happens in life or death situations involving the whole Family, or the Joker. Or both.

“I’m on my way.” He turns back to Matt. “You going to be alright?”

“I’m always alright.”

That startles a chuckle out of Tim; he makes a mental note to track the kid down at as soon as he’s got a better idea of what’s going on

Hurrying back to Damian, Tim finds him watching with folded arms as an ambulance loads the last of the injured and unconscious men through their doors.

“Father, the clean up is finished. I am returning.”

Batman’s voice echoes in both their comms. “No. Continue with your patrol. Red Robin, he’ll stay with you for now.”

“Excuse me?!”

“What?!”

“Rendezvous at the Nest afterward and stay there until you receive further instruction.”

He signs off.

Damian and Tim exchange looks that are easily interpreted even behind their dominos.

“He knows that’s not happening, right?” Tim says. “You’d probably set my place on fire.”

“And I’m sure it would be an improvement. But no, it’s not happening.”

“Good. Glad we established that. How are you getting back to the mano? B brought Hood back in the car, so…”

“Obviously, with your bike.”

“Oh, obviously.”

“You would take issue if I stole a car. And you intend to return to the Cave anyhow.” Tim glares but doesn’t correct him. “I’m driving.”

“Fine.”

“Tt, you people and your antiquated—wait.” Damian sounds like his brain has to reboot. “Really?”

“You have an obsession with sharp objects, you’ve tried to kill me more times than Hood has, and you hate me. You really think I’m letting you sit behind me?”

Damian snorts. “That’s the first intelligent thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“That is, of course, assuming you can reach the gears.”

He’s kind of surprised he doesn’t get punched for that one.

It’s an awkward right back, made even more so when Tim insists they duck into a treelined cove on the way to the manor and hide the bike to change into their civvies.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“B’s probably keeping Jason in a holding cell,” Tim explains, “which is on the same level as the garage. We’ll be seen.”

“So?”

“So, you want to get sent off to bed like a naughty kid before you even step foot in the door, or do you want to go down the stairs and find out what’s going on before B can stop you?”

Damian thinks it over, and nods. “This is tedious, but very well. We’ll do it your way.”

Tim exhales a bit at that. Though none of that was entirely a lie, he’s more concerned that if Jason’s woken up, he might see Tim coming in through the parking area and get upset.

“Look at us getting along,” he murmurs as he struggles out of his boots.

“This truce is temporary at best. If you continue to patronize me, I will have Titus defecate in your shoes.”

They arrive in the manor, slipping in through the family entrance, where they are greeted by Alfred.

How does he do that?

It’s a question Tim is pretty sure will never be properly answered.

“Master Timothy, Master Damian—what a novelty, you two entering the house together.”

“We didn’t enter together, Pennyworth, he followed in my wake. As usual.”

Alfred and Tim watch him head toward the main study.

“He’s in a good mood tonight,” Tim remarks.

“Indeed. He spent the afternoon following his studies playing Cheese Viking with Master Colin.”

“Oh, well, the world will be forever grateful.”

“I am considering a gift basket.”

“Can we get some coffee downstairs, Alfred? I have a feeling tonight’s going to be a long night.”

Actually, I have a feeling it’s going to be a long week…

“Of course, Master Timothy.”

“Thanks.”

When they get down to the Cave, it’s both a relief and not to see that Bruce isn’t waiting. Mostly because it’s Dick sitting in the big chair at the meeting table.

Crap. Crap crap crap, what is he doing here?

“Richard,” Damian says, a frown in his voice. “I was under the impression you were on your way back to New York.”

“O caught me on the way, said there was a Family emergency and I might need to hang around for a bit. Here I was hoping she meant something else by that, but…”

Tim’s brain stumbles to come up with a reason why Dick shouldn’t be here. Either this will become the stuff of teasing material for years to come, or Dick will be disgusted at the possibility of Jason entertaining any kind of feelings for Tim.

He has no idea which option is worse.

“B’s handling it,” Tim says. “Maybe you should do a quick patrol, though, since we’re all back here right now.”

“It’s covered. O said Batgirl and Signal are covering any gaps in our routes tonight.”

And Cass is in Hong Kong, which is at least a bit of good news.

He has a hard enough time hiding his feelings for Jason on a good day; if she were here while all of this is going on, there’s not a prayer he gets out of it without someone knowing.

“So, who’s going to fill me in on what’s actually going on?”

“I will.” By now they’re all conditioned to ignore Bruce’s sudden appearances. He’s still in the suit, but the cowl’s off, granting Tim a good view of the glare he’s levelling at his younger sons. “You two aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Sorry. I didn’t care,” Tim replies, his discomfort starting to crack his usual composed mask.

“And I am your partner,” Damian adds. “I will not be kept out of matters because of some misguided attempt to pander to my age. I had thought we came to an understanding on this, Father.”

“This isn’t about that.”

“Then what is it about?” Dick demands; he’s getting impatient.

“Jason’s been infected by a toxin that manifests itself by triggering obsessive behaviour.”

Dick processes that, then furrows his brow. “Are we talking Sheldon Cooper obsession or Alex Forrest obsession?”

“At this point it could be either,” Tim answers, and gives a quick rundown of everything Cassie told him.

“And who exactly is the poor fool Todd’s supposed to be fixated on?” Damian asks, looking repelled at the very thought.

Tim battles down his own embarrassment, reasoning that everyone needs to be on the same page if they’re going to help Jason, and gestures wearily at himself. “That would be me.”

Silence rings.

Damian tilts his head to one side. “Are we positive we shouldn’t just allow this to play itself out?”

“Damian!” Dick snaps, scandalized.

“Well, the outcome benefits everyone. Todd gets to drag the object of his interests somewhere that’s elsewhere, and we get rid of Drake.”

“It’s getting really old, Gremlin,” Tim sighs, rubbing his temples.

“No one’s getting rid of Tim! And Jason’s not…doing that!” Dick snaps. “We’re going to fix this. Don’t worry, Tim, he’s not going to get a chance to do anything to you this time.”

Tim shoots him a sharp look. “You know it’s not his fault, right? It’s like being dosed by Ivy, only stronger.”

“If what Wonder Girl told you is true, though, the infection may capitalize on feelings that are already there,” Bruce says. “And the fact is—”

“Jason’s tried to kill me before? Yeah. I was there. But it’s been years, and things have been getting better.” Everyone looks skeptical at that, and he scowls. “They were.”

“Be that as it may, you shouldn’t be here. Damian either.”

“Todd’s not obsessing over me, thank god for small miracles.”

Bruce ignores the byplay.

“Since you are here,” he says, turning to Tim. “I want Eros transported to the Cave. We can better interrogate him here and find out if he’s holding anything back. I don’t trust that he isn’t manipulating you both.”

“Oh, I know he’s manipulating us,” Tim replies. “I also know you won’t be able to interrogate him the way you want to, not with his powers slowly growing more out of control—and yes, they are doing that, don’t make me explain how I know that.”

“How do you—?”

“Nair, Dick. In your shampoo,” Tim snaps, jabbing a finger in his brother’s direction without looking away from Bruce. “Also, there’s no guarantee he won’t try to escape and give us the sleep because we underestimate him. And since I can’t be around Jason, I can at least keep working on that angle of the case back in the Nest.”

Because no way in hell are you benching me from this completely.

He can work from his place, and if there’s anything important, he can send it over. And he cam patch into the comms to follow along with the investigation from afar.

Whatever Bruce wants to say to that is interrupted by a tweeting noise from the computer. A beat later, a holographic projection of Wonder Woman appears in the front of them.

“You got my message.”

“Yes,” she replies. “And I can only corroborate what you already know. Nothing mortal can be done about the boy’s condition. Only an arrow from Eros’ bow will be able to temper the infection.”

Bruce’s expression doesn’t change, but Tim can sense his disappointment.

“I must also warn you that the further his condition progresses, the less conventional sedatives will work. I am surprised they even worked this time.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Modern pharmaceuticals might be able to render him unconscious, but it will not stop his brain function. The fixation will continue, thoughts unrestrained, and could overstimulate his brain to a fatal degree.”

They are all silent, digesting this.

“You said ‘nothing mortal’,” Bruce says after a moment. “There’s another option, isn’t there.”

Diana sighs. “Yes. I do have access to a method of pausing a gradual descent into madness, or rather I can locate it.”

“Great!” Dick says. “Let’s do that.”

“What’s the catch?” Tim wants to know.

“The only means I know of stopping the progression is Stygian Sleep.”

“No,” Bruce says immediately.

“What’s Stygian Sleep?” Dick asks.

“It’s in the myth,” Tim says, his research brain kicking in. “In the story of Cupid and Psyche—or, Eros and Psyche, I guess—Eros wife was put into a cursed sleep. But I thought that was just a poetic way of saying ‘really deep sleep’.”

“No. It’s a philtre created using the waters of the River Styx. Extremely powerful,” Diana explains.

“What happened to Psyche?” Dick asks.

“From what I read, she got woken up by her husband.”

“Well, that’s good, right?”

“In the story,” Diana agrees. “In actuality, he was unable to wake her. Her body wasted away and her soul was trapped in one of the darkest parts of Hades, bound to the Styx itself.”

And…that’s less good. Explains why Eros didn’t want to talk about it.

“None of this matters, because it isn’t an option,” Bruce declares.

“Don’t be closed-minded about this, Bruce, it isn’t a magic potion in the sense you think it is. The Sleep functions as a means of preserving his brain function without allowing the same deterioration that would be caused by mortal medicine. It will freeze him in the moment, keeping him safe and preserved while you seek out the means of his recovery. But if you don’t act quickly, his condition will worsen, and even if you employ the Sleep, it will be far from peaceful for him.”

“And if we don’t find that cure, he’ll be effectively braindead. No. We will find another way.”

Diana makes an impatient noise. “While I know you have every right to be confident in your abilities, you’re talking about a life. Your son’s life. Hubris is not a condition that was lost to the ancients.” The translucent body of her hologram turns as if to leave the room. “I will procure some of the philtre in case you change your minds,” Diana says, not sounding pleased. “I would hope you choose to think of the boy and not your own feelings on the matter.”

And she leaves them alone to stare at each other, the choice hanging over them more tangibly than the bats.

⁂

Next Chapter

[writing-in-winter]

fragile trust

pairing: tom holland x reader

prompts: “Sometimes I really don’t like you.” & “I’m too sober for this.”

warnings: angst (as usual), swearing (is that still a warning at this point?)

word count: 2.1k

a/n: god, this was sent in by @tomhollandswhoremain back in november when i said i would do some writing in december. i didn’t know work could be as draining, and it got dragged until now. sorry, hun! i hope this meets your expectation? feedback is always welcome! x avery

The door slams hard and heavy against the wall, but you could care less as you storm into your hotel room, a storm leaving destruction in its wake.

Your thoughts are a jumbled mess, stringing along a thousand different wishes and knotting into the same scene that plays before your eyes repeatedly. Mocking you. The beautiful brunette stepping into Tom’s personal space, offering him a drink. Him throwing his head back, laughing at something she said over the loud music. Her hand sliding down his bicep, his resting just above the curve of her ass.

You turned away from the pair after that. The sight killing your excitement of a night out with Tom and your friends. You should not be feeling the stomach-turning jealousy when he was not yours.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. As you slide on a newly vacanted stool at the busy bar, waving the bartender over once he finished his last order. “Something strong, please.”

His eyebrows shoot up at your request. You are his ‘regular’, mostly with your friends being the ones who actually down alcohol like water. Never you. Hence his hesitance.

“Hurry the fuck up, Isaac. Before I walk out the busy street and get run down by a car.” You had snapped at the poor guy, who wisely started pouring a shot of vodka.

“I’m too sober for this.” You muttered under your breath, as your eyes instinctively tracked Tom across the crowded dance floor. Screw me ten times over. She was dancing with him. Grinding, to be precise.

A glass is slid across the black marble surface, and you knocked back the concoction without thinking. Relishing in the feverish burning as the alcohol makes its way down your throat. You were onto your third and well on your way to oblivion when Harrison slips into the next seat.

Laughing loudly at something Isaac just said, you swivelled to face the newcomer. Instinctively, your middle finger goes to push the glasses up your nose, only to find that they weren’t there. You snickered at your own stupidity when you remembered you wore contacts for the night out.

“Easy there, tiger,” Harrison grips your forearm gently, thinking that you lost your footing.

You pouted at the boy, “I was having fun.”

It took all your will strength not to throw a glance at the dance floor. At the boy who held your heart unknowingly. At the beautiful female who now held his attention. You didn’t want to know if his hands were travelling down her body, or her, his. You didn’t want to know if the lips that moulded onto your own effortlessly were touching her skin.

Frowning at your glass as you turned it in your hand, you drew three ten dollar bills from your phone case. ”No harm no foul, Haz. Lighten the fuck up.”

You flagged down Isaac, asking for two more shots of alcohol. One for you and one for Harrison. Well, at least, that was what you intended before he glared at the bartender and waved him away.

“Running away from your problems won’t solve them, (Y/N). Both of you are acting as if nothing is wrong, but you know that’s far from the truth.” He pressed on the matter that had been burrowing under your skin the entire evening.

“Well, tuning them out just happened to be a great skill of mine.” You rolled your eyes at the boy staring holes into the side of your head. “And you’re wrong about it, we are great.”

“Yeah, that totally explains why you’re not the one over there dancing up to Tom sexually,” Harrison deadpanned. Well, if words hurt that much, you don’t see a point of striking a hammer to your barely together heart by looking yourself.

You turned to grab your coat from the back of the chair, careful to keep your eyes down the entire time. “It’s been absolutely pleasant talking to you, Haz. But certain things you should leave alone.” You left him at that, weaving your way through the crowd and barely suppressing the shudders that ran through you when sticky skin brushed past you. You didn’t bother calling for Tom who was your ride here since he was so preoccupied, opting for an Uber instead.

So here you were, alone in your hotel room, stretched out on a seat before the New York City skyline, nursing a glass of scotch after you had your mini meltdown. It was a casual relationship without labels. The only rule you had was to tell each other if you wanted someone else. And tonight, he trampled it under his feet, together with your trust.

This was slimy disappointment sliding down your spine, seeping into the crevices and making them home. You weren’t surprised, but you thought he could have been your one.   

You keep wishing to be the unbroken person you were before your father broke your heart when he cheated on your mother. You keep trying to be the best version of yourself who Tom deserved. But it’s impossible. This wretched distrust, it had carved a home in you so long ago, that no amount of digging or sawing can wrench out its rotten roots.

And tonight, oh gods, tonight. It cracked a filthy smile at you, the silent ‘I told you so’ went unspoken, but heard all the same. It makes you furious at it. Makes you want to beg for it to leave you. But maybe, somewhere in that roughly pieced together heart of yours, you knew it was real.     

Boys can never be trusted, but you wanted to trust him. Wanted to, but can’t. Even though he never gave you a reason not to, and now he has.  

Perhaps love is nothing but a beautifully crafted lie. Made to entice hope in humans when life is dust and ashes in the eyes of immortality.

The soft click from the entrance sent you tensing and sitting up unnaturally straight. The fact that Tom has a copy of your keycard was lost in the midst of your brooding. For once, since the first time you met Tom, you had absolutely no idea what to say to him.

He brought you out of your internal dilemma, cracking a crooked grin at you as he made his way to the bed. His words sounded so distant and foreign on your ears. As if the voice you had grown to love became unfamiliar in the past two hours.

How can a person look so beautiful with messy hair and a plain white tee shirt after a night out? You couldn’t decide if it makes you hate him a little less or a little more. Tom was staring at you expectantly, and you felt foolish, having no idea of what he just said.

You brushed the thought aside. “Figured you weren’t coming back with me tonight. So I went ahead and got myself back.” A question yet a statement. A challenge yet a chance to explain himself. If he wanted to.

He leaned back on his elbows, kicking off his shoes. Normally, you’d be padding over to him by now. Or in his lap. “That’s absurd, (Y/N). I told you I’m staying over before we went out. I don’t break my word.” Don’t you, Tom? Don’t you?  

“Thought you were busy when I left. Well, you seemed busy.” You were watching him carefully, choosing your words carefully. Like you have been doing your whole life. Careful of your words, and your actions. Careful not to hurt other people’s feelings. But they were always careless with yours.

A strange sense of calm was settling over you. Breathe in. Breathe out. Let him go, (Y/N). There. Your decision is made.

As if he sensed the change in the air, Tom left his spot, taking a seat beside you.

“(Y/N), nothing happened between us. I swear it.”

“No. That’s not- It doesn’t matter.” Not anymore. You gripped the glass tightly, watching as your fingers turn white from the pressure.

“Don’t shut me out, love,” Tom slid down to the floor, kneeling in front of you. He gently pried your fingers off the glass, setting it on the table behind him without looking. His eyes stayed on your face all the time, watching for a hint of something. Anything that could point out what might have possibly caused this reaction out of you.

“I want us to stop. Whatever this is. Was.” The words fell from your lips in a soft whisper, as if it would cause collateral damage if it were to be any louder. But it didn’t matter anyway, as the different emotions flashed through Tom’s eyes, each just a passing glance before the beautiful brown went unreadable.

It shouldn’t surprise you when you had seen that look a thousand times. More. The mask of an actor being donned. The shield that slid into place among a thousand others.

“Sometimes I really don’t like you. You know why? Because you are so fucking selfish, (Y/N).” He let loose a mirthless laugh. Retracted his hand from yours, falling against the soft cushion. “All this time, you knew how I felt about you. You strung me along like your plaything, and the one time I showed the slightest interest in anyone other than you, you act as if we are exclusive. I never minded being used by you, but this is just cruel.”

Fire. And blades. That’s what his words felt like, striking an unhealable wound deep into your chest. You deserved it. Deserved worse.

“God, Tom, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to feel this way. If I had known, I-” Your heart dropped as he roughly brushed your hand away. Your hand, that was reaching for him. That was when you knew you would be out of his life for good.

“Save the pity speech, darling.” He spit out the word as if it was poison, burning him up inside. You never thought love could hurt this bad. Love was supposed to be good and safe. Maybe this is what happens when you keep your love for him a secret, meant to be buried with you. “We both knew you are incapable of love, but I was too much of a hopeful fool in love.”

You didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that you love someone who doesn’t understand who you are, or that he loves someone that wasn’t you. Perhaps you could ponder over the heartache, feeling empty and alone in the room. There wasn’t anything you could do, watching your heart leave you with every step he takes.

Maybe one day you would reclaim it. But a part of your heart would always shadow his.

fin.

you can find my other works here: masterlist

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE PROMISED LAND (PART THREE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra. Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

The junction lies just ahead, Traveler. If you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

Well, next stop? I suppose that is the question, isn’t it.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Given the choice, dear Traveler, where would you go? Above stands a metropolis of corruption, below a promise of paradise. Above lies a place wracked by spasms of change and below, there is silence, and stillness. So if given the choice, dear Traveler, where would you go? Above to Hyperion City, or below, to the Free Dome. Our next stop:

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES. DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

Juno Steel and the Promised Land.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

JUNO (NARRATOR): Lightheaded and punch-drunk, with a gun in my back and some bad… ugh, bad, really, just terrible, awful breath on my neck…

PIRANHA: Why don’t you step a little faster, P.I.? Somethin’ gives me the impression we’re runnin’ out of time, see?

JUNO (NARRATOR): It’s honestly hard not to wonder how the hell I got here. And I don’t even mean in this stupid tunnel leading to the Free Dome, I mean… in general. It’s just a hell of a time to decide you’re too pissed to die. Right before you’re probably gonna, uh, die.

And I’ve got a lot of excuses, sure. My mother, my brother, all that junk that happened in the HCPD with Diamond and Captain Hijikata, but if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve always been this way. From minute one.

My name’s Juno Steel. I’m a private eye. And y’know, I got in my first fight when I was three years old. It was with my brother. Benzaiten Steel. Benten for short. Ben if you’re in trouble and you need to get away quick. I don’t remember what it was about, even – which is I guess how things go with old, pointless arguments like this – a-a toy, or somethin’. It was before Andromeda, so it was probably one of the Turbos. Anyway, I socked him right in the eye. He teared up an-and looked at me, at the face so like his and so different, and he… socked me right back in the same eye.

Ben would never start anything like that. He was too happy. But he’d defend himself if I got outta line. Plus things always had to be fair with him, equal, balanced. An eye for an eye, I guess.

Mom must’ve pulled us apart soon after. Even in her good days she wouldn’t have been close enough to stop it before it started, but… she would’ve cared.

MUSIC: STARTS.

I might not remember the fight very well… but I remember Mom pulling us apart. T-taking a few hits herself. I-I remember her shaking us, until we stopped fighting and started crying. And I remember her forcing us to look at one another, and, I remember her shouting. She sounded scared. I didn’t like that.

SARAH: Stop it. Damn it, I told you two to stop it!

Just knock it off, you little morons. You want to get flattened, you go lie down in the road; you don’t do it to each other.

Oh, God damn it, don’t cry, not now, don’t—

(SIGHS, DEEP BREATH) Okay, okay. Benten. Juno. You can’t do this. You can’t fight. People… they’re nasty. They’ll chew you up and spit you out, if you aren’t— Don’t. Cry. That’s just the truth. Live with it!

Listen. If you want to live out there, you need someone to live for. You need someone else, so that when you’re not tough enough, they can be; so that right when you want to give up, you remember you can’t. Because you’ve got someone better than you to worry about.

And that’s what you are to me. I love you, my little monsters.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Did she see what was on the horizon, even then? See what person she was going to become?

MUSIC: CHANGES.

I hope so. God damn it, I hope so, and I hope she hated every second of it.

But she might’ve been right. How would I know? I’ve been chewing through people to fight for my whole life: Ma, Ben, Diamond… Nureyev. You burn through that many people and it gets harder and harder to fight off the idea that maybe they aren’t the reason you keep running out of people to fight for. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s me.

Because it’s always been about me, hasn’t it? Every case, every good deed… they’ve just been so I’d feel better.

Just fighting for myself.

Maybe it’s me.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

PEREYRA: Hey, deep space cadet. I’m talking to you.

JUNO: Huh?

PEREYRA: Isn’t anyone paying attention? I’m holding the most important find of the last two hundred years in my hands, and she’s on her radio, you’re in la-la land, and your friend is just… staring at me.

STRONG: Pretty sure that counts as paying attention.

PEREYRA: Well, stop it.

STRONG: Then what do you—

PEREYRA: Not that it matters. With a Dome in my hands, I can’t be touched. Not by radiation, by the elements, by anything. (CHUCKLES) And I gotta tell you, pals, that’s a hell of a feeling. Just imagine me riding in like this when I win the election! A force of nature! Invincible! (LAUGHS)

MUSIC: ENDS.

JUNO: You’re awful confident, given that we haven’t even seen that Dome, uh, do anything yet.

PEREYRA: Oh, I’m not worried about that, buddy. It’s just like Marshall D’Arc said: you’ve got to have faith.

STRONG: Testing chamber two… “The Test of Faith.”

PEREYRA: Just like that. (CHUCKLES)

JUNO (NARRATOR): Let me tell you, my faith was tested long before we ever stepped through that stupid door.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, CLOSES.

How could it not be? I’d had a gun pointed at me for three days straight, my blood had just been sucked out and shot back in at record speed, and then, there was Pilot.

SOUND: LOW ELECTRIC HUM FADES IN.

I hated to admit it but there was something almost divine about them, holding that Dome. The sky projecting from that orb like they were shooting it from their hands; the bubble of plasma surrounding them; the strange light adding an unearthly, shifting sheen to their shiny lips, their contoured cheeks. Whether or not they were invincible, they definitely looked it.

The testing room was… less impressive. It looked like someone had left a football field and a chessboard alone with a bottle of liquor and waited for some mistakes to happen: a huge grid of tiles, so many it made my head hurt looking at the endless lines of them ahead.

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): (CHEWING)

STRONG: Oh, goody. There he is again.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): Hi, hey. (SWALLOWS) It’s, uh, it’s Marshall. D’Arc? Who else would it be.

Whatever. Alright. So, where the hell are y’all? What was the last one…?

I said I’d give you what?! The Dome sample? Are you kidding, D’Arc?!

STRONG: Does this feel… really weird to anybody else?

JUNO: Yeah, but they all have.

PEREYRA: It’s a distraction. Part of the test. Obviously.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): Whatever. Whatever! You’ve got it now, I guess, so, uhhh… Test of Faith. Something to do with the Dome sample? Uh, let’s see, let’s see, let’s see… Recording’s ticking down, audio files you can’t write over… Jesus, Ma, what a joke!

Alright, fine. Test of Faith. You’ve got to do whatever I say exactly, right? That’s how you prove you can be faithful. That you’re gonna listen when I tell you to do something. That you’re not just gonna run out, Malvin. So here’s what I want you to do: walk straight. That’s it! Easy, right? Just hold the Dome, and walk straight, no matter what. You hear me? No matter what. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen.

Uhh, Marshall out.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS. LOW ELECTRIC HUM CONTINUES.

PEREYRA: (CHUCKLES) Genius. It’s completely genius.

JUNO: It is?

PEREYRA: In order to demand faith, you have to create a lack of it. So far, D’Arc has been correct at every turn. If he just gave us direct orders, we’d have no reason to distrust him. So he makes himself sound unreliable. Genius.

STRONG: That… seems like kind of a leap, Mx. Pereyra. That’s really enough to get you to walk across there?

PEREYRA: If you want to be successful, only two things matter in this galaxy: luck, and who you know. I’ve got some of the former. And as for the latter… I have you. You’re coming with me.

JUNO: Oh, hell no. If you want one of us, Pilot, you take me. You might need her later.

STRONG: Juno…

PEREYRA: Need her for what? This is the last test. You’ve had your insides handled just as roughly as I have, P.I. You can barely stand up. I wouldn’t take you down the street.

JUNO: But—

STRONG: Stop it. I’m going.

JUNO: Alessandra—

STRONG: I’m the survival specialist. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Rely on me. Stop trying to do it all alone, and stick to where your edge is. My edge is out there. You do see yours. Don’t you?

PIRANHA: She means your eye.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I turned around and saw the Piranha staring at me, running the tip of her tongue on her thin, scarred lips. I hadn’t even thought she could hear us.

The thought of using the Theia… scared me, to be honest. With every update the Theia Spectrum could do more and more; make me see better and shoot faster and detect harder. Barely twenty minutes ago it had solved the Test of Charity for me – saved my life, probably. But it did that by walking up to my body’s steering wheel and shoving me out of the way.

I didn’t want to do that again. Not if I could help it.

STRONG: She’s right, Juno.

JUNO: But—

PEREYRA: Then there you go. Plan settled. He takes a comms, she takes a comms, and he gives her directions as we walk. Now let’s move.

STRONG: Juno…

JUNO: Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.

PIRANHA: That’s a good P.I. Just call ‘em up and let ‘em know if there’s anything they oughta look out for. And I’ll let you know if you’ve stepped outta line, see?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Pilot squeezed on the orb in their hand and the Dome disappeared for a moment.

SOUND: SHORT SUCTION NOISE.

Alessandra stepped close to them, they squeezed again, and both of them were swallowed by that glowing bubble of light.

SOUND: POP.

PEREYRA: Remember. Perfectly straight.

STRONG: You said it two seconds ago. I’ve got it, thanks.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): They took a few tentative steps out. The tiles next to them flipped over, and we got a good look at what lay underneath the floor. I could’ve seen it before they stepped on it but, uh… I… didn’t?

SOUND: BZZT.

THEIA: Error: cannot access scanning protocol without user permissions.

SOUND: DRILL WHIRR. COMMS BEEP.

JUNO: Strong, look out!

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Whoa!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Stay still!

JUNO: Alessandra!

SOUND: EXPLOSION.

Alessandra! No, damn it, damn it…

STRONG (FROM COMMS): (AFTER A PAUSE) Holy… what?!

PIRANHA: Not bad.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The dust settled, and… they were still there.

The floor was torn open, and there were scorch marks as high up as the ceiling, but the Dome was still standing – with Pilot and Strong inside it. Untouched.

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): See? You’ve just got to have a little faith. (CHUCKLES) Now keep walking.

SOUND: LASER BLAST.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Steel?

SOUND: LASER BLAST.

Do you see anything?

SOUND: SEVERAL LOUD BANGS.

JUNO: Uh, you mean besides the ten tons of munitions firing off every second?

SOUND: LASER BLAST.

Nope, but pretty much looks like your Dome’s got that handled!

SOUND: SONAR SCREECH. GUNSHOTS. LASER BLAST.

PIRANHA: They might be good now, P.I., but ain’t you risking a lot, not even bothering with a scan?

SOUND: EXPLOSION.

JUNO: Okay, knock it off.

PIRANHA: (CHUCKLES)

JUNO: How’d you know that? Why do you keep bugging me about my eye?

SOUND: MACHINE GUN FIRE. SEVERAL LOUD BANGS. GUNSHOTS.

PIRANHA: Wowee, you’re paranoid, ain’tcha? That underground radiation seeping through your skull already? Makin’ you go a little bonkers, huh? Be careful, or you might start seein’ things, like dragons that ain’t real? Fire that ain’t there?

JUNO: The hell did you just—!

SOUND: SONAR SCREECH, ENGINE POWERING UP.

Hang on.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Alessandra! Did you see that flickering?

SOUND: JETS WHOOSHING.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): The what?

SOUND: EXPLOSION.

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Keep moving forward. No matter what.

SOUND: JETS WHOOSHING.

JUNO: There’s no way that’s good.

PIRANHA: No, P.I. No, I don’t think it is.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Mx. Pereyra… it looks like there’s something wrong with the—

SOUND: EXPLOSION.

Whoa!

PIRANHA: Ooh boy, and that one almost takes her head! So close!

SOUND: JETS WHOOSHING, EXPLOSIONS.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Mx. Pereyra…

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): An illusion. Keep walking. Have fai—

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

(PAINED HISS)

PIRANHA: Right in the thigh! Smell that sizzle!

SOUND: JACKHAMMERING. DISTANT BOOMS.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Pilot, the Dome’s not looking so hot!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Because I looked away to talk to you.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): These are a lot of becauses stretched about as far as they’ll go, and it’s getting harder and harder to buy them.

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): That’s why it’s a test.

SOUND: ALL SOUNDS STOP EXCEPT LOW ELECTRIC HUM.

See? And just like that. Rewarded for our efforts.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): I’m… not sure about that. The intercom – there’s no recording from D’Arc yet.

SOUND: DISTANT BOOM.

STRONG & PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Ah!

PIRANHA: Oooh!

JUNO: The hell is that? It’s coming up from the floor!

SOUND: DIRT SHIFTING, RUMBLING.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): You don’t know?! Aren’t you supposed to be scanning for it?

JUNO: Uh… yeah. I-I mean– the hell is that! Tha-that’s what it is, it’s a hell, by which I mean, y—

SOUND: THUNK.

Oh, it’s just a chain link fence. That’s not so bad.

SOUND: LASERS BUZZING.

Until it turns its lasers on! Then it’s– wow, yeah, tha– yeah, wow, really that’s, ah—

SOUND: SHORT SUCTION NOISE. ELECTRIC HUM STOPS.

A-also your Dome is gone!

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Really? What setting do you have that eye on, Steel? “Obvious threats?”

THEIA: Would you like me to engage sensors for. Obvious threats?

SOUND: MOTOR WHIRR. RUMBLING.

A free trial sample: the laser-wall. Is now moving. Towards the two targets.

JUNO: Alessandra! The laser wall is moving towards—

STRONG (FROM COMMS): I swear to God, Steel, if you finish that sentence I’m gonna beat you over the head with that stupid eye!

SOUND: LASERS BUZZING.

JUNO: What else do you want me to do?

STRONG (FROM COMMS): How about you stop throwing me scraps and tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do, here!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Keep walking, P.I. You gotta visualize. You gotta believe.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Steel!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t know what to do. I could still remember the feeling of the Theia grabbing hold of my muscles and not letting go.

THEIA: Would you like to perform. An electronic scan. For incendiaries, explosives, biochemicals. And other traps?

JUNO: Shut up.

THEIA: Command not recognized.

JUNO: I said shut up!

PIRANHA: How come you don’t shut up? Some of us are trying to enjoy the show.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Steel! A little help out here! The lasers are getting closer!

THEIA: My assistance cannot be activated without user permissions.

JUNO: Good, that’s definitely how it should be.

THEIA: Assessment: the room is heavily booby-trapped. Projection: if you do not perform a scan. They will die.

JUNO: I didn’t ask.

THEIA: They will die. And it will be. Your fault. And we will never. Let you. Forget it.

JUNO: What the hell?

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Juno!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I looked up. The laser wall was accelerating. It would be on top of them in seconds. Even when Juno Steel gets his mess together he still leaves a trail of bodies behind him, I thought. Even with two lives on the line he’s still just fighting for himself.

I said it without thinking.

JUNO: Theia, activate scan.

SOUND: ELECTRIC WHIR.

THEIA: Scan complete.

JUNO: Alessandra, there’s an open tile two to your left! Go!

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Got it!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Hey, let go of me, you…

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Come on, Pilot!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): No!

SOUND: FLAMES WHOOSHING. LASERS STOP.

PIRANHA: (CACKLES) Y’know, this might’ve been worth the three days sealed up with you idiots!

JUNO: You’re not going to be safe there for long. Go two tiles forward, one tile left.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): There are laser turrets—

JUNO: Just trust me, okay? Quickly!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): You’re gonna get us killed! We just had to keep walking! We just had to have—

SOUND: QUICK GEARS SPINNING.

(YELPS)

STRONG (FROM COMMS): And… one to the left. Juno, those turrets still look—

JUNO: Swinging crusher plate on your six! Just duck!

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Whoa!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): (YELPS)

SOUND: BIG CRASH.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Destroyed! Okay, those turrets look completely demolished. So, that’s good.

JUNO: Don’t get too comfortable.

THEIA: Caution: high-impact plasma cannons detected. Active in fifteen seconds.

JUNO: You’ve got just over ten seconds to jump the three tiles in front of you, make a break for the other side of the room, and duck on the last tile! It’s a straight shot!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Jump? I can’t jump wearing these. Do you know how expensive these shoes are?

STRONG (FROM COMMS): How the hell did you survive politics, Pilot? Hell, how did you survive middle school?

THEIA: Cannons preparing to fire.

JUNO: Now, Alessandra!

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Just jump it, already! (GRUNTS)

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): (YELPS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): It was a big push, and a big jump. Almost enough to make it the three feet Pilot needed to.

SOUND: SEVERAL BLASTER SHOTS. POWERING DOWN.

Almost.

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Oof!

SOUND: EXPLOSION.

(PANTS)

SOUND: DRILL WHIR.

(GASPS) My heel!

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Are you really still whining about your stupid shoes?

PIRANHA: They don’t mean that heel, see? They mean somethin’ a little closer to home!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): (PANTING) It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Oh… oh… wow, yeah, that’s pretty bad.

JUNO: There’s no time, Alessandra! The cannons! Run!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Run?! How am I supposed to—

STRONG (FROM COMMS): It’s either run or die, Mayor Pereyra, and I’m only letting you do one of those. Now lean on my shoulder and let’s move!

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Ah!

SOUND: SEVERAL BLASTER SHOTS. POWERING DOWN.

PIRANHA: So close! Just a little slower and maybe we’ll get to see a real show! (CACKLES)

SOUND: SEVERAL BLASTER SHOTS. POWERING DOWN.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): We’re almost there! Duck the last tile, right?

JUNO: You got it.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Under what?

JUNO: Honestly, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Steel—!

JUNO: Now!

STRONG & PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Oof!

SOUND: BIG BLAST, SONAR SCREECH. SHORT SUCTION NOISE.

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): (PAINED GASPS)

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Yeah, you know what? That’s… that’s the one time I’m gonna agree with you that it’s better I didn’t know.

JUNO: See? I know what I’m talkin’ about. Sometimes.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Thanks—

JUNO: Not often, so I want to take credit when I do, obviously.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Thanks, Steel.

PIRANHA: You two wanna stop kissing over the damn comms and deactivate this deathtrap? If I’m not gonna get any fun out of this I’d at least like to keep moving, see?

PEREYRA (FROM COMMS): Agreed. Deactivate this, and then deal with my foot. Now.

STRONG (FROM COMMS): Fine.

PIRANHA: Let’s get moving while the intercom blabs. Nice job, P.I.

JUNO: Hmph.

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): (CHEWING) Hey. You listened.

SOUND: MACHINE POWERING DOWN.

Nice work. If you’re alive. Which… you probably aren’t. Because you probably didn’t listen. Nobody does. Why would you? Why would anybody? (LAUGHS) Talking to a bunch of dead bodies. This is a new low, Marsh. A new low. Unless… I mean… hey, it’s possible. You could be there. And if you are… (CHUCKLES) It worked. I got the best. (LAUGHS) Erin, you old idiot. I knew it would work. I knew it! It’s gonna be amazing, and we’re gonna keep it that way because we only let in the ones who deserve it! You can’t make everyone happy, Ma! That’s why you could never make anyone anything! (LAUGHS) Alright, winner’s circle! Come on through! We’ll make this last test an easy one, then… home. Welcome to the Free Dome. Marshall… out!

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC ENDS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And somehow, I knew then that was the last time we were going to hear from Marshall D’Arc.

I was less sure than ever of what we’d find, where the Free Dome was supposed to be. I was less sure than ever that I cared. I was just tired. Tired of the victims. Tired of people getting duped, then dead. I just wanted it to be over. I just wanted it to be over.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

STRONG: Thanks. Hold their leg up. They’re bleeding too much for me to clean out the wound.

JUNO: Got it.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS STOP.

PEREYRA: (PANTING) This… this is all your fault.

JUNO: How the hell do you figure? She’s the only reason you aren’t dead, you—

STRONG: Just let them babble, Juno. Missing that much blood I’d be surprised if they can even hear you.

PEREYRA: The Dome would’ve protected us… D’Arc said the Dome would protect us…

JUNO: Your stupid Dome didn’t work, Pilot. It fell apart on you. It’s broken.

PEREYRA: Didn’t work? You mean this?

SOUND: POP. LOW ELECTRIC HUM.

JUNO: What the hell?

STRONG: It’s on again! But then… why did it shut down on us?

PEREYRA: Because we were supposed to just listen. And you had to ask questions.

SOUND: SHORT SUCTION NOISE. HUM STOPS.

And I should shoot you for that right here and now.

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

JUNO: Damn it, you’re kidding me. You didn’t take their gun?

STRONG: I saw them drop it—

Damn it, that’s my gun. They took my gun three days ago.

PEREYRA: You’re damn right I did. Now keep bandaging.

Too dizzy to hear you, huh? Counting Pilot Pereyra out. You and everyone else. Always. But you know what? I got faith.

STRONG: Hey, uh, you want to help us handle your boss over here?

PIRANHA: Sorry, Big-Eyes, but I’m a little busy—

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

Whoa!

PEREYRA: Shut up. I’m trying to talk. She doesn’t work for me. Maybe she did, but after this? No. Hell no.

PIRANHA: You tryin’ to skip out on the bill, Pereyra?

PEREYRA: Oh, the bill. I’ll pay your stupid bill just to get you away from me. You’ve got nothing but what you’ve got right now, this second, and that’s barely anything, pal. I got the whole future! (LAUGHS) That was always the secret to my success, y’know. Numbskulls like O’Flaherty promise they’ll bring the future to you, but me… I always knew I’d only ever be able to get it for myself. Just watch me! One month and I’ll be out of that public dump of a city, and I’ll have the whole future! Whatever future I want!

JUNO: Wait, hang on—

PIRANHA: Shut them up.

JUNO: Not in Hyperion City? But if you’re just gonna leave—

PIRANHA: Shut up.

STRONG: Why would you be starting a whole real-estate operation now?

PEREYRA: I run way too many deals to know what the hell you’re talking—

PIRANHA: I said shut up!

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

I’ve had a long couple’a days. Hell, I’ve had a long couple’a months. I’m ready to get paid and go home, and we gotta get back and move on with our lives before the vice-mayor declares you dead. So let’s. Go.

PEREYRA: Good idea. I’m not done using you two yet. But as soon as we get to the Free Dome… pew! (LAUGHS)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And so we kept walking.

The final room was big enough for another test, but there wasn’t anything there. Not even a real message from Marshall. Just this:

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC.

MARSHALL (FROM SPEAKER): Placeholder audio… test, test… testing rewriteable audio– oh God dammit, not again—

SOUND: INTERCOM BLIP. STATIC ENDS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And that was the last we heard from him.

Then we made it outside to the underground again – the dirt and stone, the irradiated, half-melted light fixtures. The tunnel sloped upwards, and in the distance, if I squinted, I thought I could see…

PEREYRA: A door. We’re here. Go. Go, quickly. Now.

JUNO (NARRATOR): So we kept walking.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BUZZES & BLIPS.

PEREYRA: You see? This is our grand welcome.

VOICE 1 (FROM SPEAKER): Please… please, go away. Go home! This is your last chance!

STRONG: It’s that voice again. From the very beginning.

VOICE 1 (FROM SPEAKER): I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to get in the audio but Grandma’s system was too complex, and-and Dad… it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing here. Please! I’ve been trying to tell you, there’s nothing here!

This is the only message she left rewriteable. Probably so the Domers could keep subbing out the welcome message, over and over again, forever. You’ve got to know that, about Erin Marshall D’Arc: she wasn’t a bad person. She wanted this to last forever.

Dad was a good guy, too. I-I… well, I mean… well, no, he wasn’t. But-but if you heard this every day and you saw what he saw…

SOUND: ELECTRONIC JINGLE.

Just, please, don’t listen to her! Go back!

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): My new neighbors. Congratulations. After such a long, long journey, you’ve finally made it home.

PEREYRA: We’re almost there. Keep going!

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): In the Free Dome, we believe in one thing above all else: that if you’re going to believe in anything, you have to believe in people. They’ve made mistakes in the past. They set up planets, and cities, and a galaxy that can’t be fixed, and that is a shame. But people, young and old, all have one thing in common: the present.

And you have to believe that, given a chance? People will use today to make a better tomorrow. If you give them a fair chance, an honest chance, people will make a home worth living in. You have to believe that. I believe that.

So open the door, neighbors. And welcome home.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS. GUN COCKING.

PEREYRA: You heard Ms. D’Arc. Open it. And the second you get a look at paradise… you die.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I felt Pilot’s pistol pressed against the back of my head. I felt Alessandra hold her breath beside me.

PEREYRA: Open it.

JUNO: Hey, uh, come on, now, don’t we get any last words or anything?

STRONG: I’ve got some.

PEREYRA: Make them quick, then.

STRONG: Juno, when I saw you before we went down into the stupid subway, I thought you were exactly the same mess of a P.I. I met months ago. And I was wrong. You were a bigger mess.

JUNO: Cool! Cool, good to know I get to end this whole life thing on an up note.

STRONG: And you know what? That felt like a real shame.

Because when we first met, you really swept me off my feet. Do you get what I mean?

JUNO: Yeah, I’m a real heartthrob or whatever. This is seriously how you want to go out?

STRONG: Steel!

PEREYRA: That’s enough. Open the door.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And I could only hope I understood what Strong was saying. So I reached forward, pressed a button…

SOUND: CLICK. FOUR BEEPS.

…and opened the door.

SOUND: HEAVY RUMBLING.

PEREYRA: Keep those eyes wide open, now. I want to hear what you think of it.

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): You’ll see the road, first. Concrete, like old roads on Earth. Trees in the parks – trees out in the desert, can you believe it? And you’ll hear music, bells from the schools, and you’ll smell the fresh-baked breads, because here we have time for things other than weapons. Here we have time for music, for baking, for art, for life.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Finally, the doors were open enough to see a sliver of light. And then, when Pilot was distracted by whatever was on the other side of that door? That’s when I swept them off their feet.

SOUND: TWO THUDS.

PEREYRA: Oof!

JUNO: Got ‘em down. Alessandra!

STRONG: Got their gun! And if you move I shoot, got it?

PIRANHA: Uhhh, yeah, whatever. Just try to keep it down, see?

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): And protecting you from above?

PEYRERA: No…

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): My creation, the invention that makes our liberty possible… the Dome! The Free Dome!

PEREYRA: No no no no no no no no no no no no no no!

JUNO: That’s right, Pilot. The game’s up.

PEREYRA: No, no! Where is it? Where is it?!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I followed Pilot’s gaze, but I knew what I was going to see before I ever saw it.

ERIN (FROM SPEAKER): This is the Free Dome, neighbors. Now let us give you a great big welcome home! Three… two… one…

SOUND: CLANG. RUMBLING STOPS. WIND BLOWING.

STRONG: Come on, ma’am. Put the gun down. I don’t want to hurt you or your boss, here.

PIRANHA: Gimme a second.

JUNO: She said put the gun down, you—

PIRANHA: Yeah, hey, and you know what? I might. Just do me a favor and stay quiet a little longer, see? I’m tryin’ to catch the end of the big game.

JUNO (NARRATOR): You don’t take a shot in a standoff unless you have to, so we didn’t. I kept my gun aimed at the Piranha, she kept hers at Strong. A sandstorm was growing in the distance, red and writhing. As the wind began to howl, the intercom coughed to life one last time.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BUZZES & BLIPS.

VOICE 1 (FROM SPEAKER): God, I’m… I’m sorry, I’m so, so…

I promise, if there was ever a way to get this recording in earlier, I would’ve done it. I tried so hard to warn you, or to deactivate the pod or the tests, but… I just had to leave. You don’t know what it was like, you don’t know… what it was like…

I don’t know how it happened. The underground radiation, maybe, making them see things, or… maybe they just wanted to see it. I never met her, but Dad… Dad wasn’t good before the radiation either.

(SNORTS) You don’t care. Why would you care? It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

(SIGHS) I wish they’d made it. I wish it was possible.

MUSIC: STARTS.

Erin. I think she really thought… well even if she couldn’t do it… maybe Dad could. She believed in him so much. And, when he realized he couldn’t make it work, he– he just…

(SIGHS) It was bad. He was… bad.

(SNIFFS) This is the only spot where I could find a foothold in Erin’s security protocols. The only spot she wanted rewriteable, so we could keep welcoming people forever, so. I’m gonna rewrite it.

To make sure this never happens to anyone else I’ve added a protocol here to shut everything down. The tests, the messages, the Dome sample, everything. This big door is going to close automatically in two minutes and this whole place is gonna shut down, and go away, and it, and its stupid promise, can never hurt anyone again.

I hope nobody ever hears this. If I could have anything… it’d be that.

But, if you are… please, go home. Please. Because… home’s not here. And it never was.

MUSIC: ENDS.

PEREYRA: No… that can’t be real. It can’t be!

That’s it. It can’t be real. A test. Marshall said there would be three tests, and this, this is- this is just the third test, isn’t it? The Dome is still out there. It has to be out there!

STRONG: Mx. Pereyra…

JUNO: Ugh, look, Piranha-face, are you gonna give up or what?

PIRANHA: Shh! Hold on, hold on! Aaaaand… that’s the score.

Alright, yep, I give in. Let’s go back now.

PEREYRA: You what?

PIRANHA: You want them to shoot you? Yeah, wowee, gosh darn, we sure did lose this one really bad, see? Sounds like it’s time to go home.

PEREYRA: A test… it’s just a…

Fine. I’ll come… quietly.

JUNO: You sure?

PEREYRA: Absolutely. Just let me up. I can barely breathe.

STRONG: I’ll make sure she doesn’t do anything tricky. Go for it, Steel.

JUNO: Alright, Pilot, lift up your arms so I can check your po—

SOUND: PUNCH. RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

Oof!

STRONG: Steel!

PIRANHA: You idiot, you’re letting them get away! Didn’t’ja hear? That door’s gonna close in two minutes!

JUNO: I didn’t know they had it in ‘em… they looked like they could barely stand up.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

Pilot, get back here!

PEREYRA: (DISTANT) I’m so close! I know it!

PIRANHA: (BECOMING DISTANT) You get back here, you idiot! Didn’t you hear D’Arc? If this thing seals with you outside it, you’re stuck in the desert! And with that sandstorm brewing, nobody’s gonna be able to find you until you’re half past dead!

STRONG: (DISTANT) Stop trying to stall. Drop your gun, gangster.

JUNO: Pilot, stop!

PIRANHA: (DISTANT) Oh, for God’s sake, that’s enough!

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

STRONG: (DISTANT) Ah!

JUNO: Alessandra!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was almost there. They were already injured. I would’ve grabbed their shoulder in two seconds.

Then… the laser shot.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT. GRUNT.

It came up behind me, winged past my ear… and hit Pilot right in the back.

They hit the sand like a sack of bones and rolled, slowly, to a stop.

PEREYRA: (PANTING)

STRONG: (DISTANT) Agh, my hand, my hand!

PIRANHA: (DISTANT) What are you crying about? That was just a stun blast, shouldn’t’ve done any more than tickled your fingers, see?

Wuh-oh. Looks like I forgot to… put it on stun.

You ever have one of those days where it just seems like you can’t catch a break, Big-Eyes?

JUNO (NARRATOR): I couldn’t understand anything I was seeing. Pilot, sobbing as they bled. The sandstorm growing in the distance. Behind me the Piranha’s gun was still smoking. Strong’s gun was across the room. It and her hand were sizzling.

STRONG: (DISTANT) How are you complaining about this? You shot off two of my fingers!

PIRANHA: (DISTANT) Oh, whatever. I’ll buy you new ones.

STRONG: (DISTANT) What?

PIRANHA: (DISTANT) Just stay put for two seconds, alright? And that goes double for you, P.I.! I better not see you move unless it’s towards me!

JUNO (NARRATOR): She stomped in my direction. Her gun wasn’t even raised. When Pilot grabbed the end of my pant leg I almost jumped out of my skin. They were sand-caked, already looked sunburned, eyes wild.

PEREYRA: Where is it, P.I.? I know it’s out here. Just tell me and I’ll give you anything you want, buddy, anything—

JUNO: Pilot…

PEREYRA: Don’t lie to me! I know it’s out here! I’ve been looking for this for too long, I know it… I believed!

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT. SILENCE.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Pilot Pereyra was still. Their red blood, pouring out onto the red sands of paradise.

They’d always had a fire in them, Pilot. They threw everything they could into it – time, and money, and people – all in the hopes that it would bring them here. To the Free Dome. So maybe it was fitting that when they found out there was nothing here they threw in the last thing they had: themselves.

PIRANHA: Holy hell, what a day.

Look, if anybody asks what happened to them, we leave this little stun-blaster mixup out of it, okay? One of the traps did it, or whatever.

JUNO: You… y-y-you killed them.

PIRANHA: Yeah, sure, this one’s on me. Fine.

JUNO: But, why?

Who are you?

PIRANHA: Eh, nobody special. I like it better that way.

SOUND: ALARM BEEPS.

Damn it! The door!

SOUND: HEAVY RUMBLING.

Hey, I’d really love to have a good long pow-wow about this underneath the blistering, radioactive sun, but we’re kinda outta time. So what d’you say you and me talk about this back in the tunnel?

JUNO (NARRATOR): She reached out to grab me, but those hands…

I thought I had it all figured out. Pilot, sabotaging Ramses, kicking people out of their homes… it felt like if I had one more piece, the whole puzzle would make sense. And out here, in the Free Dome, this was supposed to be where I found it.

I thought it would all be worth it. The Proctor, Swift, Pollock, even that stupid cat, I thought they’d all be worth it so long as I took down Pilot Pereyra. Now I had. And I still didn’t know a goddamn thing.

The Piranha’s claw came closer, but I couldn’t let her touch me.

SOUND: HAPPY THEIA BEEP.

THEIA: Command received. Amplifying reaction ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-time—

JUNO: What the—

SOUND: GLITCH.

THEIA: ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR (REPEATING IN BACKGROUND)

SOUND: ALARM.

JUNO: (PAINED YELL)

JUNO (NARRATOR): That pain again. It came from my eye but that wasn’t where I felt it: it grabbed me everywhere, spreading from my spine like a crack in ice, growing, growing, ready to shatter. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think.

SOUND: ALARM STOPS. RUMBLING CONTINUES.

PIRANHA: Now that’s more like it. Didn’t even have to pull the trigger.

JUNO (NARRATOR): She grabbed my elbow. And even if I couldn’t think, I still wouldn’t let her touch me. So I did what I’ve done in place of thinking since I was three years old.

JUNO: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: PUNCH.

PIRANHA: Oof!

My gun!

SOUND: THUD. GRUNTS, RUSTLING.

PIRANHA: Get offa me! We’re gonna roast out here, you moron!

JUNO: Tell me how you keep doing this.

PIRANHA: Doing what?

JUNO: My eye! Every time I try to get you, my—

SOUND: GLITCH.

(PAINED YELL)

JUNO (NARRATOR): Another bolt through my spine. The Piranha pushed me off her and gave me a kick in the ribs for good measure.

PIRANHA: Fine! Die with Pereyra if you want. I’m not letting some one-eyed idiot kill me!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING. HAPPY THEIA BEEP.

THEIA: The Theia Spectrum is now online.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I sat up. The door was almost closed. The Piranha was almost there. But, she wasn’t gonna make it. Through the crack still open, I saw Alessandra Strong. “Cockroach Strong,” they called her, because she couldn’t be killed – and she wasn’t about to be now.

It was the right choice. I wish I had the guts to make it.

STRONG: (DISTANT) Juno, you moron! Dying’s easy! You have to—

SOUND: CLANG. RUMBLING STOPS.

PIRANHA: (DISTANT) No! Hrnnn, no! No, God damn it, no!

JUNO (NARRATOR): The Piranha’s gun was in the sand just a few feet away. I started crawling.

PIRANHA: (DISTANT) You’re meat, P.I.! I’m gonna rip you to pieces, see?

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I shouldn’t have risked using the Theia again, but the first time we tangled, the Piranha had gotten away from me because I missed the shot. I wasn’t gonna miss this time. I wasn’t.

I braced myself for the pain. The good guys always win, I thought. The good guys always win.

THEIA: Command received. Activating aim assissssttttaaaannnnccccceeee—

SOUND: GLITCH.

ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR (REPEATING IN BACKGROUND)

SOUND: ALARM.

JUNO: (PAINED YELL)

SARAH: Little MONSTERS!

PIRANHA: You messed with the wrong hitman, P.I.! Without that eye you’re nothing, see? Nothing!

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT. ALARM STOPS.

Oh, give it up! Every goddamn shot you take is a bone I’m gonna break, I swear!

JUNO (NARRATOR): She was close, now. She looked about half a second away from ripping me in two, and I still couldn’t hit her. The pulses from my eye were grabbing my arm and pulling it here, pushing it there, and it was going to kill me.

This was it. My eye working together with my killer, and I’d never know why. I thought. Then I felt something. Rolling up my spine, into my skull, and then…

SOUND: HAPPY THEIA BEEP.

THEIA: The Theia Spectrum is now online.

Receiving. Logged request. Overriding. User muscular control. Firing in 3… 2… 1.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT. THUD.

PIRANHA: (HOWLS) Oh, God damn it, unghhh! God damn it! How did you… (PANTS) Your eye’s back on.

JUNO: Yeah, about that. I think you and I need to have a talk.

PIRANHA: But if your eye’s working, that means…

He turned on me. He really did it. I get him this far, and then he double-crosses me.

JUNO: Let’s start there, for example. Who the hell is “he?”

PIRANHA: (CHUCKLES) Fine. He wants to stick it to me? Why the hell not. I’ll stick it to him. Might as well get some fun out of this stupid job.

JUNO: I already asked you. Who is “he?”

PIRANHA: It was that mess with Babbling Brook that got you on his radar, you know. You got in his way. He needed a stooge. It was a match made in hell. And your job at the Fortezza, that was just the interview. That was a fun one. I’ve never had anybody pay me to hire another hitman. Or to call in a target like that.

JUNO: Just say his name.

PIRANHA: Polaris Park was next. He just wanted a little sabotage we could eventually tie back to Pilot, but when he heard how I did it he wasn’t too happy. Hypocrite. ‘Cause then you stomp in there and murder Swift yourself and he’s all “let me give you a hug” and “my poor, poor little lady.”

JUNO: No, no, God damn it, stop lying!

PIRANHA: After that he got squeamish, changed tacks, wanted to find some other way to make Pereyra look bad. So he thought: what’s the only thing so important to Pereyra that they’d leave their city on election day for it?

All this.

JUNO: You knew…?

PIRANHA: Our guy, he’s got corporate connections, see? Galactic. Easy for a guy like that to get a dumb treasure map. So he parked you on some roof for a month, then told me to keep Pilot busy until election day… playing treasure-hunter. And you got to pretend to be a big hero for three days, even though I was always there to protect you. Was it fun? Wanna get on the ride again, sweetheart?

JUNO: Say his name.

PIRANHA: We know who we’re talking about.

JUNO: Say it.

PIRANHA: How come you want it so bad, P.I.? Huh? Why don’t you say it and I’ll tell you if you’re right?

You can’t do it. Can you? Because you’re still hoping it’s not really him. You know it is, but you’re still hoping. Because you believe in him. That’s how he got you, you know. That’s how he gets everyone.

JUNO: Say his God damn name or I’ll shoot!

PIRANHA: So you know what my secret to success is, P.I.?

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

(GRUNTS) Oh, come on! Shoot me like you mean it! You can’t beat me like I beat you because I don’t believe in anybody but myself, see? I take the Free Dome away from Pilot and it kills them. I take the old man away from you and you’re broken. But me? I only believe in me. And you can never, ever take that from me.

JUNO: Say his name or I’ll kill you.

PIRANHA: You say it.

It’s too late. You’ve got nothing, now. And I’ve still got the only one anybody can ever rely on, see? And I’d just like to see you take that away from me, P.I. (CHUCKLES) I’d like to see you try! (LAUGHING)

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT, LAUGHTER STOPS.

MUSIC: ENDS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): That earpiece – the one she’d been listening to ‘the big game’ on – fell out of her ear. I put it in mine.

ANNOUNCER (FROM RADIO): …it’s a landslide victory! One more time, folks, if you’re just tuning in with us now, Ramses O’Flaherty has taken the election in a complete upset! We’re tuning in now to O’Flaherty’s victory address, live from Hyperion Town Hall:

SOUND: CROWD CHEERS.

RAMSES O’FLAHERTY (FROM RADIO): Now, I know that saying “thank you” is the cliché at this particular moment, but… thank you.

SOUND: CROWD LAUGHS.

But, really. They say that helping yourself is sometimes the most difficult thing of all. Sometimes, when we seek to make the world a better place, we so fear being selfish that we refuse to act in our own self-interest; we bow and scrape to those who wish us ill and call it tolerance, respect, humility. But you, my fellow citizens, you chose to help yourselves. You chose a better future – and by God, you’re going to get it.

(LAUGHS) And to think. It was only a few days ago, as I spoke to a friend of mine, that he told me he felt that hope was pointless. Just a lot of flailing for nothing. And on that day I could not blame him.

Because on that day, our mayor was a psychotic. They acted only in the interest of what benefited them, and worse, they couldn’t even seem to decide what that was! Incontrovertible evidence has shown that they have attempted to take my life, that they have successfully taken the lives of others to win this election… and yet, come election day, where are they? They care enough to murder, but not enough to show up?

They cannot be trusted. The corrupt HCPD, who refused to protect me from the Proctor and who assisted Pilot Pereyra in their escape from the Museum of Colonized History, cannot be trusted. My young friend was right to doubt. But you, the great people of Hyperion City, you have chosen to doubt no longer.

SOUND: APPLAUSE.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was numb, top to bottom. I could hear his voice. See the hope in his sky-blue eyes. And even now, even now that I knew the truth, I believed in him. God damn it, I believed in him! Ramses O’Flaherty. The person I’d been chasing all this time, the connection between every eviction and theft and murder, was the man I was working for. And I’d helped him do it.

RAMSES (FROM RADIO): That young friend I spoke of? He is chasing after Pilot Pereyra now. It’s true. The killer who took your families, the monster who took your homes. In just a few days, the bravest young person in Hyperion City will return with them in tow. And though his acts will be heroic we cannot let him stand alone.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I looked at the huge gate of the Free Dome, at the big, broken promise of it. I looked at the slumped body of Pilot Pereyra. I looked at the Piranha, who I killed.

And then I looked at the desert. The growing storm. The lonely wastes.

It was quiet out there. No politicians. No people. No promises.

I took the Piranha’s radio out of my ear and dropped it.

SOUND: SOFT CLUNK.

RAMSES (FROM RADIO): (DISTANT) We need people like him. We need people who will not tolerate evil, will not tolerate corruption, will risk their own lives to stomp it out. We need people to build a new city, a better city, a city of the future!

JUNO (NARRATOR): For a second I could still see the radio, an ash-colored dot in the red, red sand. A desert wind blew by and a light dust began to cover it and I knew soon it would be buried. With Pilot, with the Piranha, gone, forever.

That didn’t sound so bad, I thought.

So I turned to the wide open Martian desert, those endless, swirling sands, and I started walking.

RAMSES (FROM RADIO): (DISTANT) It’s the sunrise of a new day, my friends, so grab your tools and join me! Together we build our new home! Together we will make the city of the future!

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Joshua Ilon, Kat Buckingham and Simon Moody, and co-creator Sophie Kaner:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

JOSHUA: …gonna be alright, so, I expect it to happen eventually.

SOPHIE: In the end.

SIMON: They lied! (LAUGHS)

SOPHIE: Eventually. Not any time soon.

SIMON: Well, when we first read through the episode, like, I got fully, fully, like hoodwinked, to use a turn of phrase, um, by that– that twist at the end. Like, oh shooooot. Like, here he is, Mister Big Dreams, and here to do good, and like, no, don’t you do me like that, you’re gonna d– oh, there it is.

SOPHIE: He did.

SIMON: Yup. Yup. He did it.

SOPHIE: He did do you like that…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, Jaimie Gunter, and the Princess and the Scrivener for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Promised Land, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Kat Buckingham as Alessandra Strong, Simon Moody as Mayor Pilot Pereyra, Sophie Kaner as the Piranha, Kiki Samko as Sarah Steel, and Matthew Zahnzinger as Ramses O’Flaherty.

This tale also featured: Lauren Shippen of The Bright Sessions as Erin Marshall D’Arc, Zach Valenti of Wolf 359 as Marshall Erin D’Arc, and Rich Wentworth of Hadron Gospel Hour as the last of the D’Arcs.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Grahame Turner is our script editor. Noah Simes is our production manager. Alice Chung is our designer and financial manager. Kat Buckingham is our publicity director. Original music by Ryan Vibert. Promotional art by Mikaela Buckley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

[nazm145]

This was supposed to be a mildly long rant but ended up a dissertation I’m so sorry

Ok, can we just talk about Juliette Durand for a moment?

Like, I know people hate her, but I don’t get it. And I just can’t.

Let’s consider the facts, shall we?

This is going to be hella long, just a warning, so please don’t hate me. I have many feelings.

(I haven’t read the books, so I’m basing almost everything off of the show’s version of the characters.  Tell me if I get anything wrong. Also, general spoilers below.)

Juliette was sired, abused (strong implications of rape), confined, and conditioned by a (white) man who used and trained her specifically to get close to another (white) man and get information from him for his own personal gain.

We see the dynamics of their toxic relationship and its effects on Juliette from the moment she and Gerbert are introduced, augmented by the dark, claustrophobic interiors of their Venetian home – which is strange because the house should be airy and well-lit considering how open and spacious it is. Definitely a metaphor, I think, for the dark and twisted nature of what is supposed to be a “father-daughter” relationship.

The scene in which Gerbert is seeing her off on the boat after allowing/ordering her to go find Matthew, the creepy cheek-kiss, and her look of relief and what seems to be almost a mixture of triumph and freedom as she turns around and gets farther away from him is a pretty decent summation of what things are like between them. Of course, we hardly need to analyze anything this deeply when Gerbert’s treatment of Juliette and her strange, toxic dependence on him is so grossly obvious.

Enter Domenico.

For me, Juliette and Domenico are the most intriguing characters on show. I don’t know how extensive their roles were in the book, but to me their subtle exchanges, as short as they were, are so impactful. I definitely think this is in large part because Elarica Gallacher and Gregg Chillin are amazing actors who pack so much depth and nuance into their scenes.

The whole Juliette/Domenico/Gerbert dynamic is so interesting to me (to reiterate, I fully loathe Gerbert and want him to choke). While the nature of Juliette and Gerbert’s relationship is tragically obvious, Domenico’s relationship with both of them is much more complex. From their very first scene, it’s clear that there is a mutual dislike, distrust, and tension between them all, and like Juliette, Domenico answers to Gerbert. But of course, his level of subjugation can’t even begin to compare to hers.

What first caught my attention was when Gerbert called Domenico a “nosy fucker” even though Domenico looking into the dead body and reporting to Gerbert was clearly in his favor. This strongly leads me to believe that Domenico has indeed fucked with Gerbert in the past, either intentionally or unintentionally. Not surprising – Domenico obviously has no love for Gerbert and given the constant descriptions of him as a manipulator and strategist, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s played his hand more than a few times in the past. He even tells Juliette that Venice is his home, so he does what he has to do in order to keep Baldwin and Gerbert happy. He is, in his own way, a victim of his situation - even though he holds a position of power, there is only so much he can do.

Which brings me to him and Juliette. God, I have so much to say about these two. So many of their scenes (both together and apart) force me to think about just what their feelings are towards each other and how much of that stems directly from the other and how much from their situations and the other people around them.

Like when Juliette tells Gerbert, “Domenico hates me.” It got me thinking – does he really hate her? Does she only think that he hates her? What has he said or done to make her feel that way? Or am I just thinking too much into this and it was really just a last-ditch effort on Juliette’s part to try and stop Gerbert from punishing her? Now, that last part is interesting – I’m positive Domenico knew what would happen to Juliette once he told Gerbert what happened. Everyone probably knows. But Domenico’s role in regards to both the Congregation and Gerbert seems to be that he’s the one who’s expected to keep everything in line on the Vampire front and report any problems, otherwise it’s his ass. And clearly, he’s under some sort of employment for Gerbert considering he reported the incident to him and not the Congregation, and it was him who was asked to fetch Gerbert when he didn’t show up at the meeting in episode 7. So I really believe he had no ill intentions towards Juliette when he ratted her out – it was more a fulfillment of duty, which in the world of ADoW, seems to be a necessity for survival.

Which brings me to The Scene. You know, the one where they unnecessarily angry-whisper-flirt with each other, have absolutely no regard for each other’s personal space and for two people who supposedly hate each other, look at each other’s lips a completely inappropriate number of times within a span of thirty seconds. This was the scene that made me complete trash for them, not in the very least because it was sinfully hotter than hell and had me feeling some type of way. There was so much to unpack here.

This didn’t occur to me until now, but when Domenico tells Juliette to not bother going home because Gerbert is disappointed, was he really mocking her? Or was it actually a subtle warning to wait until Gerbert cooled down so she wouldn’t have to go through what she did the last time she made a mistake? What leads me to believe the second option even more is that Juliette herself told Marcus that Gerbert will be angry with her if she doesn’t retrieve Matthew… so.

Next – Domenico shamelessly spilling the deets on how Matthew is in love with Diana, and goading Juliette to go to Sept Tours and confront them.  Here, I’d just like to take moment to appreciate Gregg’s delivery of “really” after Juliette tells him she can’t go without permission. It could easily be interpreted as “Really? Do you really need Gerbert’s permission, or are you just forcing yourself to believe that” OR “Oh really? You don’t say.” Like, I love how he could either be challenging her perception of the reality of her own confinement or just being a facetious asshole. But what really got to me was the look he was giving her as she walked away. It was both unreadable, and yet strangely… I don’t even know. Almost sympathetic? Dare I say longing?

And that’s what occupied my mind for an entire week until I saw episode 7. How genuine or underhanded were Domenico’s intentions when he tried to convince her to go to Matthew during the bar scene? Was he just trying to hurt her? Did he want her to go for her own sake? Or was it all a ploy to throw Gerbert in deep shit when his “daughter” showed up uninvited on ancestral De Clermont land? I honestly don’t believe that Domenico would be above grabbing any chance he could to fuck with Gerbert. And I absolutely don’t condone him using Juliette or manipulating her to accomplish that. Which got me thinking about another aspect of their relationship, until again, I saw episode 7.

Domenico obviously hates Gerbert, and he knows what he’s done to Juliette, possibly more so than anyone else considering the extent of their interactions. Why then, has he done nothing to help her? Why has he been, if not complicit in, then at the very least a bystander in her abuse? Now this bothered me a lot more until I saw the more recent episodes of ADoW (Don’t get me wrong, it still does. But I feel like I understand a lot more now.)

The magical world of ADoW works a lot differently than the mortal one. Law, intrigue, politics and revenge take precedence over even family and friends. Gillian sold Diana out because she thought it was her duty as a witch (although there was clearly some personal pettiness involved there). Sophie and Nathaniel wouldn’t tell Agatha that the baby might be a witch even though she’s the grandmother, and quite possibly the only genuinely kind, not insane member of the Congregation. And no one even questioned Baldwin’s claim that Knox had Diana and he himself didn’t know where she was because they never thought he would actually lie to protect his own brother (albeit only Vampire brother). So it’s not hard to believe that Domenico wouldn’t put his ass on the line to cross Gerbert that way, especially when, as we learned in episode 7, Juliette could have saved herself but chose not to.

You guys – their talk in 7 was so unexpected and touching to me. Not in a “Oh look how cute, he cares for her, aww” type of way. But in a “Wow. He really does realize her situation and is willing to help in whatever small way that he can so she can finally free herself – in whatever manner she chooses to do so.”

What really got to me was when Juliette asked him what he wanted in return for Diana’s file, and all he says is that she should finally free herself and just go anywhere. Just leave the horrible life she’s been living, while recognizing that in part it’s been her own choice because she either can’t or won’t forget Matthew. Contrast this with Baldwin asking Domenico what he wants in exchange for Satu, and Domenico saying “Someday… who knows?” Everyone knows how manipulative Domenico can be. But in that one instance with Juliette, we see him being genuinely kind and not asking her for anything in return. And his little smile after he sees her Power Walk out of that church like a Queen?

You guys. A girl is weak.

Coming back to Juliette, I’m so mad that all this likely won’t come to anything if the show stays true to her fate in the books. Which it looks like it will. As much as I felt her walking out on Gerbert, the fact that a black woman left her abuser only to put herself in a situation that her abuser conditioned her to be in is still so problematic. Not to mention the fact that that after years and years of being used by males (apparently she was a prostitute before she was sired, so even as a human?! Really?!?!) she is killed by the blonde-haired, blue-eyed lover of the white man she’s been obsessed with for centuries. Like. Ew. No thank you.

And honestly? I feel like she and Domenico could really be something if she would just try and get over Matthew. Again, not saying that her obsession with him is completely her fault. She is blatantly a victim of abuse, and so many of her actions stem from the violence, manipulation, and torture that she has suffered for centuries. Of course that would mess her up. And finally giving a black woman autonomy and power and the courage to stand up to her white abuser in one episode only to kill her off in the next in a situation that is indirectly the result of her abuse is just awful and unacceptable, especially in fucking 2018.

You know what I want to see? Juliette calling bullshit on the whole Matthew situation and finally becoming her own person.

Like, girl. First of all you don’t need no man. You are gorgeous, clever, resilient, and could probably seduce half the world’s population with one Look. And yes, I fully include myself in that. And even if you do want a man (eternity is a long time to spend alone tbh) Domenico is right there. I know their relationship is nowhere near healthy or good, but it is still light years better than the shitstorm that is the Diana/Matthew/Juliette triangle of a fucking toxic disaster fest.

Give Domenico and Juliette their own developed story where they do or do not get together (as long as they’re both happy tbh – I love my evil disasters, leave me alone), fucking rip Gerbert’s throat out, and then basically take over everything. Because – and I know I’m gonna get hate for this – Matthew and Diana’s story is sweet, and Goode and Palmer are lovely in their roles. But the whole “forbidden love/Person A not knowing about or repressing their powers only to find out they are SuperPowerful™ and now have to master their abilities with the help of Person B so they can fight the world together” is so overdone. Give me more magical world politics and intrigue with a concentration on Domenico and Juliette or give me death.

Also – more hate-bait, but whatever – Diana and Matthew may be cute and all, but this is what makes my heart beat.

 LOOK AT THEM

Domenico and Juliette are so fucking hot. Those curls. Those FACES. The adorably tiny height difference. His hand on her waist. The Looks being fucking Served. 

Don’t even try to tell me that they wouldn’t be That Power Couple

[ketzwrites]

Rewatch 109: Rise Up

This might be my least favorite episode of the whole show. I make no secrets that my biggest interest in Shadowhunters is the political scenario and the possibilities of it. 

This episode takes the political scenario and cynically destroys all the potential real-world criticism that could be done. Clary gets to play the white savior, the Downworlders are childish and incompetent, Alec is complicit to torture, and - ultimately - the Clave’s twisted distrust of Downworlders is proven right.

I really hate this episode.

Teaser

Alberto is such a good actor. I wonder if this is the first time Raphael is dealing with a fledgling. He seems to know what he’s doing.

Act One

It’s good that Clary intends to tell Simon that it was her decision to bring him back, not Raphael’s.

I don’t get why Alec can’t just Iratze his arm. I also don’t get how Jace didn’t feel it when half of Alec’s bicep was smashed away.

Oh, okay. So, the Forsaken was after the MC. Not exactly the best plan to send the Ogre-like creature for a heist, but it’s not like Valentine is supposed to be a mastermind- No, wait. He is.

Look, it’s great that Clary was able to fight one Shax demon. Really, kudos for her. But when every single person in the Shadow World is looking for her, she is not right to want to stay on the streets and look for Simon. I swear, I don’t get this logic.

I enjoy how we are always reminded that Magnus is performing magic for payment. It’s part of his autonomy as a warlock (in fact, as the High Warlock since Magnus doesn’t take other clients besides the Institute).

Izzy has zero qualms in hugging Meliorn in the middle of the Institute. Noted.

Again, it makes no sense whatsoever to think the seelies would be working with Valentine. This “seelie always take the winning side” doesn’t work when Valentine’s side means, at best, their permanent banishment to the seelie realms, and at worst, their annihilation. That’s why Shadowhunters never showed the conversation between the Seelie Queen and Valentine in 219. There is nothing that Valentine can offer the seelies that truly interest them.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Maryse and Robert made a deal with the Clave prior to the Uprising? The event that Maryse helped organize? Honestly, the history of the Shadow World is so poorly crafted. The Clave knew the Uprising was coming but still failed to prevent it. Oh, but one shadowhunter and a recently turned werewolf were able to stop Valentine. I’m not buying it.

Both Alec and Jace have good points about Maryse and Robert. They are hypocrites and Alec is right to refuse to do their redemption for them, especially since neither Maryse nor Robert shows any regret for their past actions. But Jace is right to doubt they are working with Valentine again.

Can you imagine if Clary had told Elaine that Simon died in an accident and then Simon showed up at home like that?

Act Two

Clary is smart again and looks for Simon at his own house. Though, the lighting of this scene is so weird. In Simon’s bedroom is night time, but the corridor looks like it’s illuminated by the sun. It’s really weird.

Shots fired. Spill the tea, Alec.

I’m glad we get Simon telling Clary off for turning him into a vampire. She did it for love and it wasn’t her fault that Camille is a murderous monster. But actions have consequences nonetheless.

Lydia is terrible at interrogations and Meliorn is great at shifting the focus. He was called in to talk about the seelie blood in the Forsakens and, instead, he got the shadowhunters investigating each other. Lydia walked out with no confessions, no leads, and inner division.

Act Three

Oh, look. Raj!

Anyway, here is where Jace puts Clary’s need above Alec’s needs. He isn’t just prioritizing Clary’s quest to get her mother back over the safety of the Shadow World – which is bad enough for other reasons. He is purposefully deceiving Alec in the name of Clary’s interests. This is a betrayal of trust.

The dispute between Luke and Raphael is a classic vampire vs werewolf dispute. Fair enough. But it’s a writing decision to keep that animosity in a context where both races are oppressed by a third race. A writing decision that will annoy me in a couple acts.

Izzy and Jace are correct: torturing Meliorn will lead nowhere. That decision, though, follows the modus operandi of the Clave: Lydia failed to properly interrogate Meliorn but the blame for her lack of success in getting information from him is blamed on Meliorn’s supposedly ability to skirt the truth.

That said, there is no logic casualty between the Clave getting the MC back and the Clave doing bad things to Downworlders. In fact, I’m surprised Izzy doesn’t urge them to give up the MC as a way to prove Meliorn is cooperating and, thus, spare him from torture.

“If the Clave is willing to do this to Meliorn, what do you think will happen when they get the Cup?” Logically, they’d stop. Like they will stop in a few episodes when Imogen gets the Cup and stops Izzy’s trial.

Not that keeping people in cells is a particularly nice move, but I'm surprised Raphael is the first to do it to Clary. Lucky her the person in charge of the Institute when the story started was Alec: had it been Lydia or Aldertree or basically any other shadowhunter, she would’ve been put in a cell in the first episode.

Act Four

Fun fact: Simon almost becomes a Daylighter this episode as he struggles not to feed on Clary.

The stele stealing scene is actually very entertaining to watch even if it’s about the two people Alec should trust the most betraying him.

This conversation between Alec and Magnus breaks my heart. Rewatching the whole season, I don’t have a problem with how Magnus reacts to Alec’s marriage announcement anymore. It’s a matter of miscommunication: Alec came to the conversation looking for a confidante, Magnus came to the conversation looking for a hookup. When Magnus realizes Alec is set on following shadowhunters costume in detriment of his own happiness, Magnus gets angry but ultimately minds his own business. It works for me.

Hodge’s character is all over the place. He is the opposite in this scene as he was with Alec in 103. It’s essentially the same thing: Hodge catches the Lightwoods preparing for an unauthorized mission. But, with Alec, he was ready to let him go without further comments until Clary was mentioned. Then Hodge got angry because she is Valentine’s daughter. Now, Hodge gets angry because Jace and Izzy were about to lie to him but lets them go if that means saving Clary. The only intention I can see behind this is that Hodge is supposed to be seen as a sketchy character.

“Do you think I’d be sending Meliorn to the Silent Brothers if I thought there was another way?” Yes, I do. Because you suck at interrogations and clearly doesn’t care about Downworlders. I’m glad Alec doesn’t answer, forcing Lydia to further explain herself. Also, it seems this isn’t Clave’s orders after all, but a decision that came from Lydia herself.

Lydia’s sob story perpetuates the shadowhunter biased notion that all Downworlders are the same. One warlock in Rio betrayed her – after being threatened with torture -, so all downworlders are liars and should not be trusted. The fact that Alec doesn’t realize that is a huge problem but at least the ominous music is proof of that the writers know that.

Simon forgives Clary because he sees her need for his support as an opportunity for them to get together romantically. Understandable reaction, though I wish it was revisited when they do get together and then break up.

Up until Clary meets with Raphael – a public meeting, for some very idiotic reason on Raphael’s part – I’m on board on Izzy, Jace, and Clary trying to protect the Downworlders side by side with Luke and Simon.

But then her first words are “we’re offering an alliance with the seelies”. No, you’re not. You have no authority to do so. Also, Luke still holding a grudge against the vampires at a time like this is childish and uncharacteristic of him.

“We are a new generation of shadowhunters. We believe everyone to be equal” said by one of the people who attacked a whole clan for the actions of a couple vampires with no way of knowing it had been the leader’s orders to kidnap Simon. The person that, up until a few minutes ago, had to be told by a fledgling that this world sees them as different. The person that, during that same conversation, presumes to speak for Simon and is against him joining the vampires, who clearly know how to take better care of him that she does.

Maybe it’s a good thing that this show doesn’t delve into politics. If this is the best they can do, I don’t want it.

Act Five

More childish animosity between werewolves and vampires to prove that, without Clary, they would be incapable of working together.

Clary doesn’t know how the portal shard works. She’s only ever activated it by mistake. Do the writers think the audience is stupid?

And, in the same episode that Clary is being glorified as the conciliator of the Shadow World, she is ready to “call the whole thing off” because it might inconvenience Jace to fight his Parabatai. Oh, I’m sorry saving Meliorn might personally affect your boyfriend, Clary. You’re right. Forget about it. It’s just a Downworlder life you believe to be saving. Jace’s feelings are more important. Fuck this episode and whoever came up with it.

No women among the shadowhunters with Alec, hm?

It’s a smart writing choice to have Izzy use the whip against Raj. It seems an insignificant thing in this episode, but it entails bitter consequences for the next one.  

As wrong as Alec is for going through with this plan, I’m happy he gets to punch Jace on the face for making Alec’s choices all about him. And for winning the fight and refusing to work outside the system again just because Jace asked him to.

Act Six

I’m really not interested in watching Jace being jealous of Clary and Simon’s friendship.

I ship Meliorn and Izzy so much.

Did Izzy also tell you Clary offered to call off your rescue if Jace felt uncomfortable in fighting Alec, Meliorn? Or are we ignoring that to sing her praises she does not deserve?

I guess the worst part of this entire episode is that, in the end, Lydia was right. Meliorn was being uncooperative. He knows a way to find Valentine and chose not to disclose it. That also shows that the seelies are rather incompetent: they can get to Valentine and kill him but choose not to.

[leggiamo]

Undone, Chapter XIII

I had to take some time for myself to be by myself. My apartment looked completely untouched even though I had been in and out of here more often than usual lately. Mail still piled up on the table beside the door, and dust collected on top of unused surfaces. Even still, I was glad I listened to my gut and didn’t give it up to live with Cris. This used to be my favorite place to rest in solitary, but now I felt guilty for slipping away to have alone time.

Alone time is something that is allowed in a relationship, is it not? Wasn’t I afforded moments on my own to be left in silence with my thoughts?

In the grand scheme of things, a year wasn’t that long. Sure, a lot can happen in a year, which was something that I was all too aware of. A year felt like a lifetime to me, a lifetime with him; it felt like a lifetime of feeling a kind of love for him, a unique love, that I was unfamiliar with.

A lifetime had since passed from the moment I decided to stop pushing him away, and here I was again, trying to push him away once more to deny myself what I knew I wanted all because I was afraid now that I realized I could be falling in love.

If I knew this, why couldn’t I just tell him how I felt and put his mind at ease? He claimed he could tell, but I knew all that he wanted was to finally hear me admit my feelings and tell him that I loved him in the same way that he loved me. There was nothing more that I wanted than to break the barrier that was keeping me from saying the only three words that would keep him from leaving. Even though I knew my feelings were reciprocated, some unfounded fear maintained my silence.

I trudged to my bedroom and walked up to the window to push the curtains aside, illuminating the room with the final remaining rays of sunlight. I opened the window, ignoring the slight chill of the winter air, and reached into the drawer of my bedside table.

My gut told me not to, but I wrapped my fingers around that little polka-dotted cigarette case and pulled it out. I found one lone cigarette, the only one that survived my purge, under the clip. I removed it and pinched it between my lips. After another search in the drawer, I found my old lighter.

“Come on,” I muttered as I struggled to get it to spark. “Let me have this.”

I sighed frustratedly and stormed off toward my kitchen.

The front burner on my stove clicked on and I dipped the tip of the cigarette into the flame. Holding the cigarette between to fingers, I waved it in the air to extinguish the flame on the tip as I turned off the burner. I anxiously brought the cigarette to my lips, expanding my lungs as I inhaled the smoke, initiating the release of dopamine as the nicotine entered my system.

Suddenly, I felt like the old me, the me that didn’t date because she didn’t want to be tethered down out of fear of losing herself.

The cigarette burned slowly as I walked back to my room. Each drag and exhale out of the window managed to calm the chaos raging inside of my head.

I looked down at the street below as I leaned on the window sill—I chose this place because there wasn’t a lot of street traffic. It felt a little skeevy at night from time-to-time but nothing ever happened. Here, there were no cameras and no Cristiano. No one paid me any mind and I went on my way. Here, my life still felt like the old version of normal that I previously knew.

Ashes got lost in the wind as I tapped the tube with my finger. It just felt good to be in this moment and pretend that I hadn’t moved to a new city and found what I had been trying to escape from in the first place. It was nice to pretend that I hadn’t found a man that I needed to teach me how to love. I didn’t want the moment to last forever, but I was still allowing myself to enjoy it. We were spending so much time together that I was beginning to lose myself in him, as I always feared I would.

I looked at my phone disinterestedly as it began to ring from on top of my bed.

After that night at the hotel when he said he would wait for me, something changed.

He still told me how he felt and he wasn’t cornering me to return an “I love you”. He still held me, still kissed me, and still spoke to me the same. That tender look still entered his eyes when we spoke, and I still felt the tickle of those flapping wings in the pit of my stomach when I’d catch him staring at me as if I was his whole world.

As often as he verbally and physically reassured me that he loved me, I’ve started to see something else lurking in the background. I know he cares and it comforts me, at least until he slips up and fails to hide the suspicions he keeps tucked away from me. When those come out, that’s when it hurts me. It hurts to see that some part of him doesn’t trust me and doesn’t trust that when I tell him that I only want him, I mean it.

Above all, his mistrust scares me. I know it only exists because I balk at saying the words he’s waiting to hear. But what if I finally say them but he thinks I’m only saying them to appease him, or worse, out of guilt? He says he can already tell how I feel, but if he can, why does he look like he’s trying to catch me in a lie each time I answer the phone around him? Why does he so keenly observe how I interact with not only Sergio but with other men as well?

I might be new to this, but I’m not the person he’s becoming suspicious that I might be. When I tried to explain this to him, it turned into another serious argument. That was how I found myself back here, alone as I smoked the only cigarette I held onto as I tried to hold on to the parts of me that were here before I met him.

I let my phone continue ringing as I finished my cigarette. He could wait while I gave myself this moment.

I remembered the look on his face as I threw my hands up and walked I away. I was non-confrontational by nature, and to sit there and argue with him, someone I was invested in, was too much for me. Even as he called out my name after me, I kept on walking away.

I couldn’t let the argument continue when it was about nothing at all; too many senseless arguments had the potential to ruin relationships. Everything that he was saying was just him beating around the bush and finding ways to bring up my relationship with Sergio without actually bringing it up. He said he didn’t care about my past with Sergio, but he kept finding every excuse he could to allude to it.

I put out the end of my cigarette and dropped the butt in the ashtray on the nightstand. My heart felt heavy and I wanted to hear Cristiano’s voice, but I didn’t want to call him; I would just have to wait for him to give in and call back.

I flopped onto my bed and held my phone to my chest. Why did it have to be Sergio and not Cris who had gotten to me first? Had he stepped up, I wouldn’t have to worry that he was jealous, or that he was distrusting because of a past that he assured me he didn’t care about. I’d still be in his bed, my ear pressed to his chest as I listened to the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat if I had been able to hit it off with him before anyone else.

I waited for his call for as long as I could manage to keep my eyes open. Without bothering to get up to close the window, I allowed myself to doze.

I saw him in my dreams, albeit briefly.

We were back at my parents’ house, watching snow fall through the doors of the balcony as he held me, his heart beating against my back. His embrace made me feel warm and secure. It was in that moment that I was still running off of the energy and myriad emotions brought on by the wedding. Admitting to him that there was something very real about what I felt, even if I couldn’t name it, relieved me as much as it frightened and thrilled me. Despite any fears, I knew that I longed to be in his arms for as long as possible.

The ringtone and vibration of my phone startled me awake. Out the corner of my eye, I saw my curtains flutter in a cold breeze that made me shiver. The picture of me sleeping on his chest as he smiled smugly into the camera that he set to his contact flashed in front of my eyes. I hesitated to answer.

After a deep breath, I finally allowed his call.

“Cris.”

“Isla—” I closed my eyes and cradled my phone as I kept it pressed against my face. The low, almost melancholy tone of his voice made me long to be back with him where I could happily sleep in his arms. “—where are you? Come back to me.”

The ache I felt in my chest worried me. “I can’t do that, Cris. Not right now.”

“Why not?” The gentleness of his question further agitated that ache that I felt for him.

I reached out to grab a pillow so I could hug it close to my chest. Another breeze snuck in through the open window, causing my skin to prickle with goosebumps even as I turned away.

“What do you want from me?”

“What?” he laughed.

“What do you want from me?” I repeated slowly. “I don’t understand anymore.”

“Isla, you know—” He paused to take a breath, to think just a little more carefully about what he wanted to say. He could take all the time in the world and I’d still wait for him. “I want to be with you for as long as I can, and I want to love you with all that I have. What I want from you is for you to want the same. I want us to be on the same page.”

“I thought we already were.”

“Are we really?” he asked quietly.

I let out a sigh of frustration. “This is why I’m here right now and not there with you. Every time you do this, play this act like you don’t already know how I feel, it hurts me. You know it hurts me and yet you keep doing it.”

“What am I supposed to think when you’ve been so distant lately? You say one thing, but you barely want to be here and you barely ever want to talk to me beyond one or two words. If we’re on the same page, why are you pushing me away like this?”

“Did you even listen to anything that I said? Every single time that we talk, you say something that hurts me! It’s like you don’t even care.”

“I do care—of course I care,” he said quickly.

“Then why do you treat me like you don’t?”

The wind outside started to pick up as the sky released droplets of rain, one by one. My heart began to race as I awaited his response. The inside of my mouth started to dry out the longer I waited. Part of me was glad that we were doing this over the phone and not face-to-face because I didn’t want to see what look he had in his eyes now.

“Is that what you think? Is that… is that how you feel?” He sounded troubled, as if my words were finally beginning to sink in.

I grimaced. “You have this lack of trust in me, and I can’t understand where it’s coming from. I don’t need you to come out and say it, but I know some part of you, for whatever insane reason, thinks I’m somehow going to decide to cheat on you with Sergio no less.”

“Isla—”

“No, Cris, I don’t want to hear you try and deny it again. I know that’s what it is and the fact that you think that I could do something like that is what hurts me. If you really had an issue with me keeping a close relationship with Sergio, why would you lie about it—”

“I wasn’t lying back then.”

“So what changed now?” I demanded. “Why are you suddenly so obsessed with the idea that I would even think of being unfaithful to you? After I told you that all that we talk about is my commitment to you and how I can deal with my feelings for you, you still seem to think that I would… that’s what hurts me. That’s what makes me think that you’re doing this on purpose in order to hurt me.”

“You know that’s not my intention.”

“No, I don’t!” I sat up and moved to close the window as the rain began to pick up. I rested my forehead against the windowpane and shook it slowly. “You do it so often that I can’t believe that it’s not on purpose anymore.”

It was his turn to let out a deep sigh. “I love you and I would never go out of my way to hurt you. I just worry so much about why you can only talk to him and not me. Why is he the one that you think of when you wake up in the middle of the night when you can easily roll over and talk to me about what’s on your mind?

“I don’t mind that you’re friends, but I can’t process the idea that you’re only talking to him about your feelings when you’re whispering over the phone at 3 in the morning. I understand that this is something new to you, but any man would feel uncomfortable with the woman he loved rolling out of bed to talk to another man so late at night instead of coming to him with her problems. It’s not normal.”

“I don’t know how many different ways that I can tell you that you have nothing to worry about. He helps me to get closer to telling you everything that I still can’t tell you right now.”

“That’s still not very comforting,” he chuckled. “Why does it have to be in the middle of the night when that’s the time that I’m meant to have you in my arms all to myself? I don’t like that he’s taking you away from me, even if you’re the one doing the calling. It’s the fact that your first thought is to call another man while you’re in my bed that I can’t wrap my head around.”

“I don’t need you to understand. I just need you to stop treating me like I’m cheating on you when I’m not.”

“Well, when you’re as distant as you have been lately, what else am I supposed to think?”

The ache that I suddenly felt made me clutch my chest.

“You really did not listen to a word that I said, did you?” I spoke softly, trying to hide the shakiness of my voice. “Just… just give me some space, Cris.”

“What are you saying? Are you saying you want to take a break?”

“No. What I’m saying is, if you want me to be that person that would cheat on you, maybe I will.”

I ended the call before he could respond and set my phone down on the bedside table. He could call and call as many times as he wanted, but I refused to answer. I wasn’t going to continue to be treated as though I had been cheating on him all along.

As I watched the rain clear up as quickly as it had begun to fall, I decided that I wasn’t going to stay in and pity myself. I wasn’t sure if I was still in a relationship anymore, but I wasn’t going to just sit here and dwell on it. There was a bar not far from me where I knew I could easily find my comfort in the bottom of a glass or two.

I ignored my phone as it started to ring once again and started pulling clothes out of my drawers. If I was already letting the old me make a comeback, I might as well let her come back fully. I had my mind set on picking up another pack of cigarettes and hanging out in a crowd I didn’t belong in.

For once, I finally felt tired enough to fall asleep at a semi-reasonable time. All the lights were out, and I was just started to get settled in to go to bed when my phone started to vibrate on the table right beside my pillow. At this hour, I knew it could only be one person.

I sat up and grabbed my phone and looked beside me. Even in the dark, I could tell she was sleeping. I didn’t want to risk waking her so I grabbed my phone and got out of bed as gingerly as possible and stepped out into the hallway.

“Isla what is it?”

“I couldn’t do it. I was so angry at him but I just—I still couldn’t do it,” she sputtered into the phone. I could tell that she was drunk by the way she cried and slurred her words.

“Fuck,” I muttered to myself. I walked further away from the door and down the stairs so Pilar wouldn’t hear. “What’s going on? Why are you crying?”

“He just keeps—” She hiccupped and sniffled something incomprehensible in what I assumed was Dutch. “He hurts me. He… he knows that it hurts and he keeps doing it and doing it and I can’t take it, Sergio. I can’t do it. I just want—”

I kept walking away from my bedroom, down the stairs, and into my office. I reached over to turn on the lamp as I sat on the edge of my desk. She continued to rattle off incoherent sentences as I struggled to make sense of what was going on. The more hysterical she got, the more worried I grew. This was something that I had never experienced before, not from Isla.

“Slow down and take a deep breath, Isla, I can’t understand you. You’re not making any sense.”

“I-I went home with this guy and I-I couldn’t do it. I just can’t do it. I’m not that person, even if he thinks that I am. I can’t be that person,” she continued to ramble.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut. “Where are you? Do you know where you are?”

“No,” she sobbed into the phone, “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry, Sergio. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry.”

I gently shushed her. “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize to me. Just take a deep breath. Do you know this guy?”

There was shuffling, like something was brushing against the mouthpiece of her phone, and it worried me. She went silent for a while and didn’t respond to me calling out her name. I felt agitated as I scratched my chin and continued to call out her name more urgently.

More shuffling reached my ears before I heard her voice again.

“I’m sorry I dropped it. He’s so nice—he listened to me when I said I couldn’t and he’s letting me sleep in his bed and his dog is so cute—”

“Isla,” I said firmly, “focus. Pay attention, okay? Go ask him for his address. Give him your phone so he can send it to me. Can you do that? I’m going to come and get you.”

“Sergio—”

“Do it right now.”

“Don’t tell Cris—”

“I’m going to be there as fast as I can. I just need you to get me that address. I’m going to come and get you, just sit tight and don’t let whoever you’re with touch you, okay? Send me that address, Isla. You’re going to be fine.”

I had to drill into her head what I needed her to do just a few more times before I felt comfortable with hanging up. I didn’t want to end the call, but I needed to call Cristiano and let him know what was going on. I had no idea what had happened between them, but at this moment, it was the least of my concerns. My main priority was making sure Isla was safe; I couldn’t give a shit about their relationship.

It didn’t surprise me that he didn’t answer this phone at this hour. Still, I was annoyed to have reached his voicemail.

“Sorry to call you so late, hombre, but I’m going to go pick up Isla from God knows where. She called me just now sounding really out of it and I’d thought I’d let you know before I left. If you happen to be up, I’m going to bring her back to her apartment if you want to meet us there.”

I ended the call and turned the lamp off. I rushed back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When I reached the door to my bedroom, I noticed a faint light leaking out of the bottom of the door. I scratched my head and tried to feel less keyed up before I opened the door, but I was too afraid of what might happen to Isla to even consider what awaited me.

After a deep breath, I pushed the door open and looked straight at Pilar’s scowl before turning away and walking into the closet. She at least waited until I grabbed some sweats and a pair of sneakers before saying anything. I glanced up at her as I pulled the sweats up.

“Why does she always call you so late?” She almost snarled out the question as she emphasized the “she” with distaste.

“I’m not doing this right now,” I said as I slipped my feet into my sneakers.

“Doesn’t she have someone else—”

“Seriously, I’m not doing this. Not right now.”

“So, are you running to her? That’s what you’re doing now? Leaving me, your girlfriend, behind to go save some other woman? Are you her knight in shining armor now, Sergio?”

“I don’t like the way you refer to her with so much contempt.” I looked over my shoulder. “She’s a good friend of mine and she needs help. You might be my girlfriend but she entered my life first. Whatever problem you have with her, I need you to keep it to yourself right now because if something happens to her because I’m here arguing with you?” I threw my hands up and shook my head.

I walked back to my closet to grab a jacket to shrug on. Pilar seethed quietly from the bed we shared as she watched me walk back over to grab my phone. I felt just the slightest bit of relief when I saw that Isla managed to get the address to me.

As I was walking out of the room, I heard Pilar call after me: “You’re in a relationship with me and she’s in a relationship with Cristiano. Remember that Sergio!”

I tried to call Cristiano again on my way out, but I went straight to voicemail this time. Whether or not he got my messages didn’t matter much to me at this point. My main priority was reaching Isla and making sure she was okay.

The drive itself felt longer than it was considering how stressed I was. I tried calling Isla multiple times to let her know that I was on my way, but she didn’t answer either. The longer that I went without being able to reach her, the more worried I grew. That worry only died down slightly when I managed to get buzzed in by whatever clown she found tonight.

When I reached his apartment, I had to hold back from pounding on his door like the police. I wouldn’t be able to calm down until I had Isla with me safe and sound, but grabbing the attention of everyone on the floor wasn’t ideal. Luckily, I only had to ring his bell and he opened the door within a matter of seconds.

“I think you have something that belongs to me.”

His eyes widened with a sense of recognition that I was all too familiar with. “Oh, yeah, right. She just fell asleep.”

I followed him inside to where she had fallen asleep. She was holding tightly onto her phone and sleeping with her eyebrows knitted together. I wish I knew what was causing that pained look on her face.

Before I stepped into the room to wake her up, I turned to this stranger. “Look, thanks for taking care of her and not taking advantage. She’s kind of having a rough time right now and I’d appreciate if this could stay between us.”

Even though I thought I was quiet, the sound of my voice roused her out of her sleep. She sat up and rubbed her eyes as she squinted at me.

“Sergio,” she slurred, “What are you doing here?”

I walked into the room and crouched in front of her. This was my first time seeing her like this and I didn’t like it. She was unrecognizable to me; what I was looking at wasn’t the Isla that I had known for as long as I did. It hurt to see her in such a bad way.

“I’m taking you home, dumbass,” I teased softly. “Let’s go.”

“I can’t see Cris like this—”

I stroked her knuckled with my thumb. “I’m not taking you there. I’m taking you back to your place. Come on.”

She was shaky on her feet, but I managed to get her up and out of the bedroom. I thanked the guy once again and left the apartment altogether. Trying to get her into my car was a more difficult task, but once she was in, she fell asleep again. As I drove, I took a couple glances at her just to make sure she was ok. For the time being, she was, but I wasn’t sure how she would be in the long term. All I knew was that I needed her to be safe.

Isla was in an even deeper sleep when I parked in front of her building. I looked through her bag for her keys and shook my head at the new pack of cigarettes I saw. Whatever happened earlier today set her back on the completely wrong path.

I pressed her keys against my palm and got out of my car. I walked around to the passenger side and gently woke up her so that I could get her inside and into bed.

“Hey.” I gently shook her awake.

She blinked tiredly. “Sergio….”

“Shh, I got you.”

I heard a car door open and shut as I helped her out of the seat. Through my periphery, I saw a shadow move in a familiar way. Apparently, he got my messages after all.

Isla balanced on me as I shut the door once I had gotten her outside. She held on to me for assistance as I walked her to the front of her building where Cristiano was standing waiting for us. He looked between us as she clung to my shirt, mumbling about something neither of us could hear.

He nodded in my direction. “Hey.”

“She’s uh… well clearly she’s had too much to drink but she’s ok.” He was focused on her with his head cocked to the side. He looked troubled, but again, it wasn’t my business. It was the least of my concerns. “You got it from here?”

He accepted the keys from me. “Yeah.”

“No,” she whimpered. “Sergio don’t leave. I don’t want you to leave.”

“You’re fine, Isla. You know he’s going to take care of you.” I hugged her to me and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you later when you don’t stink or look like shit. I have to get back home but I’ll check up on you later.”

She reluctantly let go and all but fell into Cristiano’s arms. I almost laughed, but I felt too tired to even attempt it. She looked pitiful, but anyone with eyes could see that something painful had to bring her to this point. This wasn’t like her at all.

Before I could walk away, she called out to me, “I love you, stupid.”

I cringed and tried to ignore the look that I saw on Cristiano’s face. Drunk Isla was quickly becoming my least favorite Isla. Whatever was going on, I knew that I had no interest in getting caught up in the middle of it again. I said goodbye to the both of them and got in my car to drive home to a relationship issue of my own that had to be dealt with.

Cristiano silently let the both of us into my building and guided me up to my apartment. Once I was inside, I dropped my bag on the floor and paid no attention to Cris when he regarded me curiously as he picked up the pack of cigarettes that fell out. I stumbled away toward my bathroom and ignored the fact that the room was spinning as I turned on the shower.

I spent a long time under that stream of hot water, letting it wash away everything that I had been holding on to today. If I could cry, I had found the perfect place to do it. I was tired and sick of being drunk and angry with myself.

I was definitely still drunk when I stepped out of the shower and I had to close my eyes as I brushed my teeth to make the room stop spinning. Cris was sitting on my bed, flipping the pack of cigarettes in his hand, when I walked into my bedroom. I ignored him and pulled out the first set of pajamas I could find and put them on.

Even as time continued to pass, Cris said nothing to me. He waited until I crawled into bed and curled up to even move. I just continued to lie there as he stripped down to his underwear and joined me in my bed. This was something that was new; he had never been in my bed and I wasn’t even sure that he had been in my apartment before.

When he draped an arm over me to pull me closer, I rested my hand atop his and closed my eyes.

“I couldn’t—I didn’t do anything,” I said quietly. I was annoyed that my words were still slurred.

“I know. That’s not who you are. I’m sorry I made you do this,” he said into my hair. “I have to work on it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You frighten me, Cristiano.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

I slipped my fingers in between his. “Because you do.”

He kissed the top of my head. “How?”

“I feel like I’m losing myself. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never been hurt before. I just… I don’t like the thought of being without you, but I don’t like the thought of being with you when you act like you can’t trust me. I don’t know how to process this.”

“Why are your feelings something that you’re afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” I murmured. “It feels like who I am, who I know I am, is disappearing.”

“Are you afraid of being in love?” He paused and I heard him swallow loudly. “Or are you just afraid of being in love with me?”

“I—” Even with my eyes closed, I could feel that sting of tears that threatened to fall. “I’m afraid that if I admit it, if I make what I feel real, that I’m going to lose you.”

“Why would you lose me?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t let those tears fall. “I don’t know.”

“You’re not going to,” he said as if he could tell the future.

“You don’t know that. You can’t lie in this bed with me and tell me for certain that we’ll never end up being apart. If you ever broke my heart by leaving me I don’t think I’d survive.”

“Why would I do that?” he asked.

“I don’t know!”

“I wouldn’t—that won’t happen.”

I swiped at my eyes with the butt of my palm. “What if I break yours?”

“You’ll only be able to break it if you don’t let me love you the way that I need to.”

I knew what he needed me to say, but I still couldn’t bring myself to say it, not even with the liquor in my system. I needed him to know the reason why I couldn’t sleep with another man, the reason why I could never feel any desire for Sergio again, but I just couldn’t get those three basic words to leave my lips. I knew that if I couldn’t say them soon, I would lose him, no matter how much he tried to insist otherwise.

[jemej3m]

Only

Sorry.

There’s only so much you can do, Neil thought, sitting on the couch. 

Matt out was getting dinner, staying only overnight.

He still hated it, being alone. He’d spent too much time alone, and had never opted for it, if given a choice. 

Long distance meant he didn’t have one.

It wasn’t like his fifth year at Palmetto: He had purpose, and he had a role to fill. A team to bring to success. A coach with a careful eye, an almost-friend to become close to. 

There was nothing like that here, in New York. 

He was living in the most horrible of apartments, because he was paranoid. He’d made the cut, but pleasing the Moriyamas depended on how well his team would succeed that season. 

That wasn’t purpose. It was survival, all over again. Eating because it was necessary, sleeping because it was necessary. 

And fuck -- even Exy. He felt the same rush when he leapt and slung a ball just out of reach of the goal keeper’s net, but the ever-present weight still sat on his shoulders. Knowing that he couldn’t play this sport just because he loved it, but that he had to give what he earned over in exchange for his life.

He wouldn’t be able to quit exy, even if he was starting to hate it. 

Which he was. 

Practise reminded him of when he willingly agreed to signing his life down, because he’d thought there hadn’t been any other alternatives. There had been alternatives. Neil of all people should have remembered that: There was no one way to get out of a sticky situation. It was never simply life or death. 

He should have offered something else. There was a buzz in his brain that he couldn’t ignore, and it made it difficult to think, but there had to be some other way he could have done it. 

A way that wouldn’t have torn him and Andrew apart, putting hundreds of miles between them. 

Maybe -- maybe if they were together, actually together -- this wouldn’t have happened. 

Exy was -- had been -- everything. To Neil. But he knew that he would put Andrew above his career, which whittled down to the simplest of facts Neil already knew: He would die. For Andrew. To keep Andrew alive. To keep Andrew happy. 

Blindly, Neil thought that Andrew thought more or less the same. He’d had enough of repeating his old mantra of I’m nothing. He wasn’t nothing. But he wasn’t anything to Andrew. 

Six days, no calls, no texts. Absolutely nothing, not since Neil had sent the i know about him. 

Foolishly, he’d called Nicky. 

“Oh. Neil.” Nicky was foolish and in perfect love with a man who was in perfect love with him. “I -- Maybe Andrew’s just an open-relationship person. It might not mean he doesn’t--” Nicky cut off unsubtly, because no one ever mentioned it around either of them. They didn’t know what it meant. “--you. Not any less. Some people just are -- bigger than one person.”

But I’m not. Neil wasn’t. He was the narrowest of pin holes: He was pretty sure that there would only be one man he could feel this way for. For the same man to be able to see beyond Neil was -- a pretty absurd idea. 

Nicky had apologised, Neil had nodded despite it being a phone call, knowing Nicky couldn’t see him, and hung up before he could hear another one of Nicky’s sighs. 

He’d turned to Matt, instead, who lived in Augustus but was up in New York. He’d said he was visiting his mother for the week -- Neil knew a lie when he heard one -- and promised to come over. 

Half of the scotch bottle on the table in front of Neil was empty. The buzzing in his head wouldn’t go away. 

“I’m back, buddy.” Matt eyed the bottle. “Too drunk to eat?”

“I’m not drunk.” Neil’s voice sounded quiet and small. 

“I’m sorry, Neil.” When Matt was already halfway through his container of take-out.

“I don’t understand why people are apologising.” Neil was just stabbing his food. He wasn’t hungry. 

“It’s a way of trying to connect with you, on an emotional level.” Matt had never laughed at Neil fumbling around with how to talk to people as a person. He’d always just been blunt and factual but forgiving and understanding when Neil fucked up or didn’t know what to say. 

Neil really appreciated that. 

“He cheated on you, Neil. That’s what it is: I can see you trying to work it out under those curls.”

Neil stabbed at his food again. “Makes me sound like some distressed wife on a reality TV show.”

“He didn’t tell you. You never agreed to it. That makes it cheating. Nicky’s ‘he could just be an open-relationship’ is bullshit and you know it. You know him better than all of us.”

“I want to ignore it.” Neil hated how raw it sounded. “But I’m mad, too. I don’t understand it.”

“You’d think he’d be more careful.” Mat murmured. 

“What, like it was an accident?”

“No. But you’re you. And he knows you. You’d think he’d be more --” Matt couldn’t find the word he was looking for and eventually clamped his mouth shut. 

“I’m not exactly sure what that’s supposed to mean. But it’s -- if he needed to find someone else, then what don’t I --” 

“Have that he’s looking for? Yeah.” Matt dropped his container onto the table. “Yeah, no. Neil. There’s absolutely nothing you should have to do to make him stay. You’re not unsatisfactory or not enough. If Andrew wasn’t happy with you, then fuck him.”

That hurt. “But what if I was happy with him?” 

Matt shut his eyes. “That’ll be the hard part, Neil.” 

Neil looked back at his food. “You think I should end it.”

“The two of you were all or nothing, Neil. We all thought it would pan out. Maybe we were wrong: We were wrong about it starting in the first place. It’s your decision and no one elses, but.” He offered a sad smile. “If I ever did that to Dan, she would curse me to the ninth circle of hell with no regrets, and I’d deserve it, but I also know it’ll never happen. I have no reason to ever find anyone else, and I know I never will.”

“But Andrew’s an asshole.” Neil grimaced. 

Matt’s sad smile was accompanied with an apologetic shrug. “Always was.”

It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault. But Neil just had to look at the rest of his family to know that Andrew did make a lot of decisions, purposefully choosing the worst, whether it was to hurt someone or completely disregarding consequences. That wasn’t okay.

Are you going to be the last person to leave him, when he needs someone he can trust, more than anyone else? 

No, Neil wasn’t.

It wasn’t fair, but it was true.

“Thank you, Matt.” Neil leaned his head forward when Matt offered his hand, and let him cup the side of his head. “But I’m going to see how this pans out. Before deciding. He still hasn’t -- contacted me. I know it’s...not me. Or my fault.”

“You know what you’re doing.” Matt seemed pleased by Neil’s reasonable answer and grabbed his fork to steal a mouthful of Neil’s takeout, despite his own being on the table. He talked around a mouth full of food and Neil almost smiled. “We going to continue Elementary from where we left off? Titanic? K-K-U-K?”

Neil smiled a little more. “Elementary sounds good.”

Andrew’s team was playing tonight. Matt was a good enough friend to know that.

You’re not alone. You’re not alone. You’re not alone. 

He still felt it, though, it’s ever-present weight on his chest, the numb nothingness of his mind. 

Neil looked up at Betsy and grimaced. “Pills?” 

She smiled hesitantly. “They can help ground you. There’s a lot of terrible stigma around medicating for mental illnesses, but it’s to help you.”

“Some of it’s not stigma.” Wide grin, feral gleam to his eyes. 

A month and a half later, still nothing. The last two games had been startling: The loss hadn’t wasn’t followed by it’s usual ferocious disappointment, his determination to be better. The win two weeks later didn’t make his heart race, his chest tight with pride and relief. 

Just. Nothing. 

Then he saw that feeling numb was a symptom of depression. Real depression. A diagnosable illness. 

And he’d called Betsy.

“I know you may think that. And I know why. God, of all people, Neil, I would know, wouldn’t I? He was my patient.”

She’d been very careful around Andrew’s mention. Both of them knew that Neil would never have called Betsy on his own, not without a push from Andrew, or in this case, because of him. 

“Antidepressants help level you.” Betsy explained, leveling her hand. “They bring you up from the ditch onto the level playing ground, giving you the little push so that you’re at the same starting line as everyone else when it comes to happiness. Or achieving it. Does that help you to understand?”

“Andrew’s pills were antidepressants, weren’t they?”

“Euphoria inducing drugs.” Betsy said, quietly. “Not the same. The illusion of happiness is -- a cruel thing to give someone. He wasn’t happy for a long time.”

“You imply he eventually was happy.”

“Dare I say, when he found you?” 

Neil said nothing. Felt nothing. 

“Neil,” She said softly, eyes softened with concern. “What happened?” 

"Andrew’s okay, if that’s what you’re asking.” Neil hadn’t a clue if Andrew was okay: He was beginning to hope that he wasn’t, that he was struggling from refraining to call him a dozen times like Neil wanted to, that he missed Neil’s good morning texts as much as Neil missed his good night texts. 

“I asked what happened.”

“No, Betsy.”

“Okay.” She murmured. “I’ll get in contact with an affiliate. I know we’ve had three Skype sessions already, but maybe you’d prefer to sit with someone? Get to know someone, instead of being forced to trust me, through a screen. Maybe consider antidepressants, Neil. I’m very happy that you trusted me enough to talk with you.”

“So it is depression?” Neil finally, finally looked at her. 

Silvering hair and silver eyes. He’d distrusted her on principal, but he’d had to work very closely with her in stitching up the team whilst captain. A woman worth respecting, and despite being each other’s nightmares -- a well practised liar and a well practised analyser -- they’d figured it out. 

“Yeah, Neil. I really think so.”

“How do you...” Neil clenched his fists. 

“How do I know? It’s easier when my patient suspects. If they relate to other stories, can label symptoms. You’re a walking textbook definition of depression, Neil, and I’m sorry. It’s not always avoidable, it’s deadly common. I’m sorry that I haven’t been there earlier to support you. Maybe I would have seen you -- falling into the ditch, so they say.”

How could you have been there for me: We’re worlds away. “Thanks, Betsy. Send me the address of the psychiatrist.”

“Will do, Neil.” She smiled gently. “Have a good evening.”

“You too.” He said. She hung up for him. 

He didn’t move for another hour but to rest his chin on his hand and stare at the wall behind his laptop. 

He’d only installed Skype to call Andrew.

He quit the application and removed it from his dock. 

Don’t need this anymore. 

“Betsy, come on.” 

Betsy paused. Their past few calls had been most certainly more tense: Betsy could pick up agitation over text alone. Andrew was practically her son. She could read his mood from what time he called: It was currently three in the morning. He had stayed up for hours agonising over himself and his thoughts and then called Betsy out of pure frustration. 

He never called her Betsy. It was Bee. Once: Mom. 

“Andrew.” She said, in an equally frustrated tone. “What?”

“Neil, you talked to Neil. He called you. What did he say?”

Betsy had been on the phone to Andrew when Neil had first texted, asking to talk to her on the phone. She knew that they were momentarily estranged from each other: She’d initially thought it was the stress of long distance, and the agony of waiting months to see each other. Now she was sure it was something more trying than that. Andrew must have worked it out, but hadn’t said anything till now. 

“I can’t say, Andrew.” She said, softly.

“Patient confidentiality.” He said sourly. “Sucks, doesn’t it? But that means he’s your patient. Which means he’s not okay. Why? What happened?”

Betsy frowned. “I thought that you’d perhaps pushed him into it.”

“Pushed him into it?” He snapped. “I--

“Andrew, breathe.”

He took a moment. 

“I haven’t spoken to Neil in six weeks. And two days.”

Oh. Betsy shut her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I was with someone else. And he found out.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Betsy snapped. “Andrew.” 

Silence. 

“You don’t usually supply such a strong person opinion on my mistakes.” 

“You don’t usually -- no. You haven’t done something so careless for many years, Andrew.”

“What, the cheating or him finding out?”

“You think this is a joke?” Betsy found her own voice hushed. “I watched the string of my mother’s infidelity break my father into a million pieces.”

“Did I finally unlock your pathetic sob story, Bee?”

“Congratulations, Andrew. Do you feel validated now?” 

He was finally quiet.

“I’m not your therapist anymore, Andrew.” Betsy was worried she’d gone too far. She knew that the two of them had a unique relationship simply because she’d stuck out for him when almost no one else had. She and Neil shared an understanding. “I’m not your mother, but I’m more than a mentor. I’m family: You said so yourself. So allow me to ask: Why would you step out of your way to do something when there was absolutely no reason to do it?” 

“How do you know there wasn’t a reason?” He said, voice rough. 

“Because he is everything to you.”

Andrew swallowed audibly. 

“And you know that he’s different, Andrew. His sexuality isn’t as black-and-white as yours. It’s singular and particular and it’s intense because the chances of him finding someone else to connect so deeply with, deep enough to spark  similar infatuation with, is slim. And you know that. So why?”

“I don’t know.” He said. And then again: “I don’t know. He’s -- there’s no reason. It just happened. Consciously, yeah. Consensual, of course. But did I need it? No. I barely wanted it. It was like giving into the tiniest of itches on a scab wound. Stupid and just makes things -- bleed. Again. I didn’t need it, and I didn’t need to do it, not like I need him. Neil.”

“Andrew.” Betsy whispered. 

“I don’t know what to do.” He concluded. “It’s been six weeks since I panicked and shut off my phone for three days. I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t get that. He doesn’t get being able to find someone else, because he can’t. I don’t know what to do.” He paused. “I don’t know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive you?” 

“Ng--” He cut himself off, coughing. His voice was scratchy and broken. “No.”

They were quiet for a long time. 

“Maybe some time down south me would be a good idea.” Betsy said, desperate to fill his heart broken silence. 

Heart broken teenage boy. 

He was 28. Not a teenager anymore. 

“Maybe.”

“Thanks for opening up to me, Andrew.” It felt a little cruel to say it this time, but she’d said it since the first time he’d said something a little more meaningful. 

“You’re welcome.” He’d replied every time, pausing at the doorway. There was slight hesitation before the line went dead. 

Neil was minding his own business, having collapsed on the couch at three in the morning, after the afters party, which was after the after-game-dinner, which was after the actual game. He was absolutely dead on his feet. 

Dead enough to not register the knock on his door. His angsty younger self would have lamented about how his mother would have beaten him black and blue for being so exhausted to miss someone knocking on the damn door. 

They knocked again, louder, and Neil’s eyes popped open. He sat up, still in his slacks and button down, collar popped. He dragged the blanket with him, clutching the corners together in one fist as he held a blunt knife in the other. He still managed to turn the door handle and pull it open. 

“No, no.” He shook his head, letting the door fall closed. 

“Neil!” Andrew’s palm slammed against it, shoving it wide open and falling inside with the force of it. Neil stumbled out of the way and the door slammed shut behind him with a distinct air of finality. 

Nothing, for the first minute. Hour. Eternity. 

But Neil was feeling more than he’d felt in two, long months, even on his second brand of antidepressants. His heart was racing. There was a rope pulled tight around his neck. He could barely breathe: He could barely contain himself. Heat shimmered over his skin at the sight of him, hair mussed by the wind, the tip of his nose reddened by the cold, swath in the coat Neil had bought him only a few months ago, in preparation for winter. His hair was longer. His shave was sloppier. His eyes had lost whatever spark they’d had before. 

Neil hated he was making these comparisons and feeling concern creep up his throat. 

“Get out.”

“Think I was dead?”

“Get out.” Neil’s voice wobbled. 

Something in Andrew cracked and his eyes dropped to gaze at the floor with a jerky nod of his head, turning towards the door. 

Neil didn’t touch him but called out “How?” before he could open the door. Andrew’s hand froze. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t whisper but his voice was soft.

“Who is he?” 

Andrew turned around, looking at pained as Neil had ever seen him. “He was nothing, was. He was nothing and nobody at all, Neil -- was.”

“And so am I.” Neil wrapped his arms around his stomach: He’d dropped the blanket and the blunt knife. 

“No, nev--”

“Get out.”

“Neil, I--”

“Leave!”

“Neil, please.” 

Two men, equally devoid of hope, staring at each other like they were strangers. 

Neil hated that word too. Please.

“Goodbye, Andrew.” 

eyyyyy

[maniibear]

One of my fics I managed to save from Imzy for the prompt Recover. Tony mourns JARVIS during and after the events of AoU. 

Word Count: ~1900 Warnings: None? Sadness, I guess. 

The sun is a sliver on the horizon when Steve jogs down the steps of the Bartons’ farmhouse. 

Laura had mentioned they might need more firewood and since she’s taking their, and now Fury’s, descent upon her home in complete stride, Steve didn’t need to be told twice. There’s a different kind of cacophony outdoors, one that fades to the background more quickly, but it’s kind of terrifying in its serenity. After all, what did the planet care about Ultron or his plans for stolen vibranium? 

Weak, dusty light playfully limns the Quinjet and the trees alike as Steve makes his way to the barn. It fades like a kiss by the time he reaches the wooden door, which is supposed to be locked, but stands open just enough to offer a glimpse of a figure sitting alone in the dark, illuminated only by the artificial and decidedly unplayful light of a smartphone.

Steve sighs in relief, shrugs tension from his shoulders when he recognizes Tony’s particular silhouette. The team's looking for you, and you’d rather be with your tech, he wants to ask, only what he hears stops him in his tracks. Somewhere above the million sounds of nature, Steve’s enhanced hearing picks up Tony’s breath and a specific, aching wetness in it. Damn.

Steve slips into the barn as noiselessly as possible. 

“Tony?” he ventures uncertainly, and the way the other man's body just curls in like a wounded animal confirms his suspicions. For a moment, Steve considers leaving and sparing Tony an audience and embarrassment, but that somehow feels like him showing his age.

Feeling stuff isn’t embarrassing, and it’s about damn time we start acting like it, Sam’s voice echoes in his head. Then, Tony’s shuddering breath becomes obvious even to someone without super hearing and Steve figures the darkness would provide plausible deniability if he wanted.

He sits on the wooden bench beside Tony and a quick glance at the Starkphone in the brunet’s hand makes things obvious. It’s footage of the city near the Wakandan coast, where the Hulk locked arms with the Hulkbuster armor. It’s obviously witness footage. It’s streaked with blood.

“Oh,” Steve sighs, because his own throat closes with grief. Probably for the best, because there’s a lot he wants to say, and none of it sounds right. He fidgets because inaction bothers him, but he’s not certain what to do. He desperately wishes Sam were here, but in the end, he settles for pressing his calf against Tony’s, a solid reminder of his company.

The next few seconds pass like this-- heavy silence punctuated by Tony’s quiet sniffling. Eventually, Steve reaches for the phone; the weak resistance he’s met with melts when he insists on tugging the thing out of Tony’s hands and switching it off. The pitch darkness that falls upon the barn then is almost a relief. Steve is tired, still raw from Wanda Maximoff’s number on his head, but he doubts he’ll sleep tonight, so this is what he has to be content with.

“We took a hit,” Steve echoes Tony’s words on the Quinjet. “But we’ll make it right. We’re Avengers,” he says and feels stupid before the words finish coming out of his mouth.

Tony just takes a measured breath and replies, “I miss JARVIS."

His voice is so small, so lost that Steve forgets to breathe. Any reassurances of ‘you can rebuild him’ die on his tongue because Tony says ‘JARVIS' like there just can’t be another. God, now he really wishes Sam were here. But Sam’s not, and all Steve has in the way of a field kit is the physical act of holding Tony to keep him from shaking apart.

Tony’s whole body goes rigid when Steve wraps an arm around his shoulders. What’s visible of him in the opaque blackness is torn, distrusting, but needful enough that Steve feels a mournful twinge. It’s going to be delicate handling, so he wisely avoids Tony’s neck and keeps his whole stance open and tentative. 

Remarkably, Tony doesn’t shrug him off.

“It’s—it’s my fault,” he says instead. “I let him down. He always had my back and I. Mmh."

Steve tightens his hold, just to do something, because fuck, he’s the wrong person for this. He’s barely caught up to modern day tech and he is so far from being able to wrap his head around somebody who lived and breathed it and—

Steve recalls the hologram Tony bought up back in the Tower, a small, expertly crafted sun disfigured in—what did Bruce say—not strategy but rage. His photographic memory recalls every shredded pixel, every aborted synapse and torn neuron and if he reconciled that with this grief —Jesus Christ! Tony had come upon the mangled body of his most loyal sentinel and nobody had even paused for a moment of silence.

Steve feels ill. “Oh god, Tony, I’m sorry."

“I should have been monitoring him.” Tony rasps. “I mean, it’s what he did for me, right? Kept an eye on me so I didn’t end up torn to bits. Because I’ll tell you, New York wasn’t easy. Mark VII wasn’t ready, we weren’t fucking ready, but J rockstarred it out there. And god, I remember when Dad—"

Judging by the abrupt wince that follows, Steve suspects Tony bit his own tongue to cut himself off. It tells him a lot, though, but it’s so much he can’t even begin to unpack; not with Peggy’s voice still echoing in his head.

“Breathe,” he instructs evenly, sliding his palm from Tony’s shoulders to his back, unconsciously mimicking the motions of his own childhood.

Silence falls again. Steve pays attention to the rise and fall of Tony’s breath and glances out to the farmhouse. He left his own phone inside, but someone’s probably going to come out looking for them soon.

“You lost a friend,” he acknowledges. “That’s…I get it. It feels like the world makes less sense."

“No, it makes sense. " Tony counters. "I have a mission, and a pretentious twit of a robot in the middle of it."

“Tony, stop,” Steve shakes his head. “I mean it, we need each other more than ever now. This is too big for us to not be a team."

“Ha!” Tony’s voice is muffled, like he’s scrubbing his hand across his face. "No, you don’t understand. This doesn’t end well for the team."

That sounds fairly ominous, and Steve should probably ask about it, but he’s so damn tired. Visions of the dance hall and of Peggy flash at the corner of his mind like pages torn out of a book. 

“We can take care of ourselves,” he says wearily. “You know that."

“What I know,” Tony begins and it sounds less like an acknowledgement than an argument, then he falters because Tony is tired too. “Fine. I know."

Steve’s glad it’s dark and nobody can see his smile at the grumpy retort. Another pause rolls between them, in which Steve can feel Tony’s ribs expand as wide as his own and hear their simultaneous outbreath—mournful, but somehow lighter in its sharing. Instinctively, he draws Tony’s head to lie on his shoulder. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there's no resistance, so Steve follows suit, rests his cheek atop a thatch of soft hair, and thinks he could weep at how terribly he needs this.

“But really,” he murmurs, not minding at all that Tony wiggles closer. “Together."

“But really,” Tony echoes. “You still have faith in all this…cotton candy?”

Someday later, Steve will put it into words—this whirl of what it really feels like to watch Tony care too much about code and people and everything else that peeked over the horizon to gaze raptly at tomorrow. But for now, he just bundles up the warmth pressed against his side.

“I do.”

-

Later, when the world is safe again and Tony’s plans to build the Avengers a home upstate come to astounding fruition, everyone gathers around a beautiful plaque mounted at the entrance to the data crux. Everyone in this case means the core team— Natasha, Tony, Rhodes, Thor. Bruce is still missing without contact; Clint is also not present, but he does manage to secure a line.

“Am I late?” he asks over the microphone. Clint's voice and image on the screen are scratchy. He’s certainly not connecting to the Avengers facility from his farmhouse, but damned if anyone can tell where he is either. "Am I…no? Oh good, didn’t wanna miss this. Who’s going first?”

Everyone automatically glances at Tony, and Steve helpfully tilts the Starkpad so Clint can too. Tony looks flustered, but Rhodes squeezes his arm and raises his eyebrows encouragingly.

“Ok,” Tony takes a breath and raises his glass of whiskey. “To JARVIS. Um. You did good, buddy; best of us all. And I’ll miss you…I—“ His voice quakes, and Rhodes’ comes right back to steady him.

“Hey, come on, we’ll miss him, too.” Colonel Rhodes raises his own glass. “To JARVIS, for saving my ass in Pakistan, Tokyo, oh, and that one arms dealer in Colombia. We captured him alive, but I’m pretty sure he died inside after J started roasting him.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Natasha confirms, and chooses her next statement with usual consideration. “We lost a teammate in this fight. I know that.”

There’s something immensely powerful in her handful of words, if Tony’s stunned quietude is any indication. Steve sneaks a quick glance at him before it’s his turn to talk. There is so much he still doesn’t know about Tony and JARVIS or the memories that bind them, but he doesn’t need a map of the brain to know love.

“It was an honor,” Steve says softly. “JARVIS jumped into this before all of us, kept the world safe from Ultron until we could figure out how to defeat him.”

“Aye,” Thor agrees. “Though he was a spirit of light and numbers, JARVIS fought hard and well from the digital realm. He shall have a seat of honor in Valhalla for eternity.”

“Yeah, man, to JARVIS and Valhalla,” Clint’s affirms over the speakers. “Bet that disembodied punk’s running the place by now.”

“Of course,” Tony retorts haughtily. “And you can bet he’s gonna figure out the real deal with that hammer, too."

Everyone's laughter echoes down the polished halls like a breath of fresh air, along with the chime of shot glasses meeting in front of the plaque before they all drink to Tony’s erstwhile copilot. There’s a palpable sense of closure to this one thing among a thousand other open questions and raw wounds; Steve feels it even after the team disperses and he’s left alone with Tony under another sunset.

Steve immediately picks up on a certain undercurrent of restlessness. He’s lingering; they’re both lingering, and it’s jarring against their shared instinct to do. Only Steve’s not sure he’s welcome to do anything about these newly risen slew of feelings for Tony. Now that they aren’t bowed under exhaustion or covered in darkness, surely, that certain ache, that ravenous need is back deep down where it belongs.

Or is it? Steve’s heart jumps to his throat when Tony sidles up into his space, and the familiar weight Tony’s slighter shoulder resting against his makes him want to weep all over again.

“That was good,” says Tony, falsely conversational. “Plaque was a nice touch."

“Oh, sure,” Steve replies unevenly, and falls right into the moment. “So, Jarvis. Was he someone you knew…?"