#DESPITE EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED RICHARD STILL HEARS THEIR LAUGH IN HIS MEMORIES

[betryl]

It's been said a lot of times before but I'll say it again because it's true: the country house section is one of the best, if not THE best section of the book.

It's weird to say considering how "useless" it is in terms of plot (there's the Bacchanal happening in the background but of course we know nothing about it yet), and there are many parts that are way more interesting in which actual things happen. Plus, it is quite long, so a lot of pages of basically nothing.

And yet in retrospect, that's the part that stuck with me the most in the end, and it still is one of the first things that come to mind when I think back on TSH.

It was just that vivid. Maybe it's because I've experienced something similar myself so I could sympathize with how Richard was feeling too. I just remember I was totally immersed in it the first time I read it. I really felt like I was there. And even if it did last longer than I expected and I wanted to go on with the story already, I didn't feel bored.

Apart from simply ✨the atmosphere✨ and ✨the aesthetic✨ being on point, I think the main reason for this is that it really fed the illusion, and it made you FEEL like Richard. We knew from the very first page (lines!) that this book was probably not going to be a joyful one. But while they were in that country house, everything seemed fine. Richard was finally making his way into the group, they were starting to be more open towards him, they were all having a great time together, we got to see their little stupid shenanigans which made us know all of them better and me inevitably attached to all of them (Bunny throwing Henry and Francis in the water will never not be funny to be) and they even started daydreaming about the possibility of living together in that house without anything changing in the future.

It was clear even while I was reading it that all those things would have never become true, and that the illusion would have shattered soon. But still a little part of me kept on believing that maybe that could last, because the way it was narrated by Richard was... weirdly hopeful, which isn't something I can say about any other part of the book I believe. It was hopeful, and yet there was that unsettling sense of dread creeping through the lines, because you KNEW the murder was coming soon and everything would end. But just like Richard, I just... didn't care in the moment.

The country house section to me was somehow a snippet into what could have been if they never murdered Bunny- or even before, if they never had the Bacchanal at all. Could things have gone wrong at some point still, for whatever other reason? Probably yes. Maybe they weren't meant to last anyways, maybe they weren't even friends in the first place, everyone has their own thoughts about this. But it's sweet to think about. Now knowing the whole story and how terrible the situation actually got makes those pages even more painful. Those really were their happiest times.

Also I could talk about Camilla cutting her foot too but that's maybe another post for another day before this becomes way too long lol.

Also also the cherry on top for me was definitely that last couple of lines which got to me HARD and make my heart ache still:

There was a ragged burst of laughter; faint, but clear, it floated back across the evening air. That laughter haunts me still.

[sibsteria]

all the angels [cast & angels & chuck]

prompts: ''run away with me''

summary: [bare with me, this is a long summary and concept] throughout the decades, y/n and the angels lived in harmony, her being the only being with powers on par with chuck. an immortal life with your angels sounds good, doesn't it? something goes wrong and y/n gets projected into the world of the spn actors. she had never met god, despite being made for the angels because of him. the thing is, she doesn't remember anything of her life with the angels and this messes with reality. the world of reality, along with y/n, are all magically convinced she has always been in their universe as a fellow cast mate. what happens when most of her favourite angels and a certain hellish man team up to collect her in the middle of a con?

characters: Rob Benedict, Richard Speight Jr, Mark Pellegrino, Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, Sebastian Roche, Chuck Shurley, Gabriel, Castiel, Lucifer, Balthazar, Crowley

warnings: I dreamt something along the lines of this and it's just pure crack, I apologise, fluff, angst, everyone is single because it gets weird. I wrote this at 4am :/

---

''So let's talk about Y/n's character! She hasn't been explained too much but we know her backstory.'' Wow, thank you, Mark Sheppard.

''Well, I'm pretty sure the fans already know.'' I shrug, but a glare from the man before me makes me roll my eyes.

''Come on, don't leave them in the dust, also sharing a name with your character is weird right?'' He teases me, I resist the urge to walk over and playfully slap him.

''Fine. She was created by God to please the angels in whatever way they needed, with her consent obviously. She creates a connection with Gabriel and their connection become the focus of her life, until she meets Crowley-'' I look over at Sheppard and paint a fake scowl on my face, sending the audience into light laughter. ''-who is also vying for her attention, but as you all know, she had been killed off at the end of the last season. Y'all didn't see that blinding golden light and her disappearing act?'' I raise my eyebrow at the crowd. They murmur amongst themselves.

''Are you sure she was killed off?'' Richard snickers from next to me. ''What if her dear Gabe just snapped her away for some-'' He wags his eyebrows to out fans. ''-angel on paragon action.''

''It's literally in the script shut up- or you know, believe this idiot.'' I smile, showing I meant no offense

''Scripts change! You know that!'' Misha reasons, aggressively.

''I suppose so.'' Leaving audiences in an unsolved mystery is the fun of cons.

---

Sitting in the green room, it's sweaty and warm after the panel. We are instantly greeted by our colleagues awaiting their next instructions such as Mark Pellegrino, Sebastian Roche and Rob Benedict.

''Welcome back, you little bastards.'' Sebastian's voice rings throughout the room, I groan, faceplanting onto the couch where Rob sat, fiddling with an acoustic guitar.

We sat, talked, ate, I napped, yknow the usual.

---

''So, do you think they will bring you back for the next season?'' Misha asks, I bite my lip and answer him.

''I have no idea, no one has said anything so maybe not. I'll be joining our widdle Kings of Con if not.'' I give a baby voice when talking about the couple that is R2.

''Hey!'' Rob's voice wavers in his distinct little way.

''Rude of you to call me little.'' Richard winks and I shoot gag at him, he feigns a frown.

''In other news-'' Mark Pellegrino's cut-in is interrupted by a blinding golden light, surrounding the room. I grip onto Rob's arm as the ground begins to shake, burring my head into his chest, I cover my eyes from the light. He holds me back just as tight, hiding in the comfort of my shoulder. One of many weird, intimate moments with him that makes people believe we are together.

A loud, pitched, sound rattles around us. A few of us scream in pain but I just whimper and move closer into Rob.

Suddenly, everything stops and stills.

I can't force myself to move.

''What the fuck?!'' I hear Misha, making me not want to move even more.

''Ha! Look, she's cuddling you. Awe.'' I hear Richard's voice, but it wasn't him, it didn't sound like him. I pull myself away from Rob's chest and look at the scene unfolding.

'What the fuck?'' I whisper, repeating Collins' earlier comment. Stood here, a few feet in front of us are Gabriel, Balthazar, Castiel, Crowley, Lucifer and Chuck. Did I miss something?

''Not happy to see us, darlin'?'' Gabriel smirks, a foot of his approaches me, I look at them in confusion and shock.

''W-What's going on?'' That is the first time I have ever heard Pellegrino stutter.

''We should probably talk...'' Chuck wavers his hands to us all, motioning us to listen to him.

''So, uh, Y/n here? She's our Y/n, from our reality and we kinda want her back.'' Gabriel shuffles his weight between each of his feet, I'm in too much terror to even speak, so is everyone else.

''You hear him, dickbags? We want her back.'' Lucifer crosses his arms, staring dead into Pellegrino's soul, presumably to make him uncomfortable.

''I don't understand-'' I stop myself, leaving it at that.

''Wait, do you not remember?'' Gabriel looks at me, broken eyes reflect his inside pain.

''Of course she doesn't, you bollock! Can't you see the look on her face?'' Crowley rolls his eyes but for some reason I can sense his true sadness.

''I will explain, better.'' Castiel takes a step towards me. ''You are Y/n Divine, our Divine, your the celestial from our existence. Your our...?'' He struggles to find the words, Balthazar answers for him. Not the lot of explaining I need there, Cas.

''Our collective soulmate, so to speak.'' He nods.

''Yeah, that's who I am in Supernatural but- this isn't the show, this is reality. I gotta be dreaming, oh my God-'' Chuck interferes (doesn't he always).

''That's me.'' The nervous laugh from the bearded almighty almost makes me laugh, almost, but the situation was too real for it. ''Would it help if I...showed you?'' He says, unsure of his choice of words.

For some reason, I pour my trust into him, and walk towards the clone of my almost boyfriend, I wished.

''Mind if I show all of you?'' Chuck asks, before ignoring some of the 'no's in the room and he snaps, bringing us into a dream state.

Scenes flow through our brains, ones that weren't in the show

---

Dressed in a white kaftan with golden afflictions, there was Y/n, lay in the greenest of grass. And next to her? Gabriel the Archangel. Almost in a Bella-Edward meadow position, the two looked into each other, reading one another's soul.

''Run away with me.'' Gabriel whispers, lighter than air.

''What?'' She snaps out of her dreamy daze.

''Let's leave, you don't need any other angel that isn't me.'' This breaks her heart, although Gabriel was her favourite and the one she had a special connection with, she had a duty to remain near the other angels.

''I want to-'' Gabe's heart lifts but sank soon after. ''-but you know I can't. I wasn't created to defy my purpose, I would cease to exist if I did.'' A tear rolls down her cheek, the light from the fading sun rested gracefully on her skin.

''I know. Oh, what was I thinking? My father will come after us and- I would rather now think about what he would do to us, to you.'' He looks away from her to relish in his pain.

''Don't be like that, my little Aurelian enchanter-'' She mentions the colour of his golden wings, which lay across the ground behind him, a beautiful sight. ''-the time will come where no angel needs me, then I can devote myself to you, only you.'' She mumbles, pressing a sure kiss to the peak of his nose. He huffs in a peaceful array of emotion.

''At least you don't kiss any other of my brothers or estranged family.'' He nudges back at her, nose to nose.

---

''That was sickening to watch.'' Pellegrino chuckles into the dark abyss of our voices, unable to see each other but still recognising each other within the blindness.

''Shall I show you another one?'' A rhetorical question from the Lord from above, as he whisks us into another memory.

---

She sat on a bench, clad in elegancy, the world was still new and beaming. New angels were being created, not all of them needed a divine celestial to aid them, so she spent her days watching the creations live. The bees harvesting pollen from the flowers was one of her favourite sights.

She felt an angelic presence appear next to her, but a new one, an unknown one.

''Who might you be?'' She asks, not tearing her eyes away from the fuzz of a creature.

''I am Castiel.'' Short and stat, seems like the kind of being he was, without a vessel he could be read more easily.

''No vessel yet, I assume?'' She looks towards the beam of light beside her.

''No, not yet. I hardly think there's a need for such a thing.'' His voice was the most beautiful she had heard, of all the angels, no vessel and no front made him so much more enticing.

''Well, nice to meet you. You're wings...they're black? Pretty though, new as well.'' She smiled at Castiel, his aura positively increased, the interaction helping them both. Just a simple amount of time in company can help an angel.

''Thank you.''

---

''So that's Castiel?'' Misha seems uneasy.

''Would you like to see the encounter between her and his vessel?''

---

She sat, with Balthazar, just grooming his beautiful wings. An act she did for her most favourite angels.

''Have you seen Castiel's vessel?'' He smiles up at her, in his own vessel.

''Not yet but I am excited though, from the comments I'm hearing, he is a most handsome fellow.'' She brushes past a certain spot, making Bal shiver in delight, not in a sexual manner.

''Ugh, like you don't find yourself infatuated with my golden winged brother already, don't go falling for another one.'' He groans in disgust, she laughs, melodically.

''I can promise you, I won't.'' That was a future lie.

''Hello, Y/n.'' A new voice from behind her, sensing the energy, she knew it was Cas.

A wide grin stretches across her features, ''Castiel!'' She shouts, whipping round to face the angel in his new restrictions. ''My, my, good choice, my angel.'' A nickname specifically reserved for the defying being.

''I would say 'thank you', but it would be a most similar and repetitive interaction.'' She sighs in relaxation, reliving her first encounter with Castiel.

''You are always welcome, you're one of my favourites.'' She boops his nose, squeaking 'boop' at the same time, Cas cocks his head in confusion.

''Boop?'' He questions her, she shrugs her shoulders.

''You're cute, so I booped you.'' She giggles, Castiel couldn't refuse the stutter in his 'emotions' as she spoke.

''Okay.''

---

I heard Mark Sheppard's voice throughout the void, ''YoU'rE cUtE, sO i BoOpEd YoU!'' His badgering voice pointing fun at me.

''Shut up.'' I mumble.

---

It was beautiful, the winding waterfall gushing down the rocks, watching it flow. She sat, in deep thought, things between Lucifer and Michael were getting tense, she was scared for the future.

''You don't need to worry about us, my little cherub.'' Lucifer's voice mixed eloquently with the sound of the waves slowly connecting the lake below.

''It's part of my job, I couldn't help it if I tried.'' She shrugged, she stared at the water, taking in the fresh air.

''I know that things aren't simple, they never will be, just know you will always have me. I have never spoken to anyone in such a tone before, you should be honoured, little one.'' This made her accumulate, she leaned back into hold, he was a median temperature. It was nice.

''My Lucifer.'' She grinned in thought. ''You always have been the most intriguing, I will never give up on you, I promise you that.'' She craned her neck to look at the blonde, before pressing the smallest of kisses to his jaw. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so honest with himself, and she wouldn't again for some time.

---

''My dear, this is too dangerous. You are not a warrior, you are a healer and an abettor. I can't let you, I'm sorry.'' Crowley's gruff rumble soaked the thin air, she wanted to fight for her angels- with her angels. She held the power, but not the will.

''I was made for this moment, this is my purpose, I have to do something.'' She pleads, tears stinging her eyes.

''Listen to me, darling, they need you alive more than you're help. Listen to what I'm saying, although I am nonpartisan, I can't remain unbiased. I fear that my little, fascination with you is what keeps you safe. The angels may not love it, but it keeps you safe whilst they handle their own. They want you safe, so that is what I will do.'' His short monologue seemed to flip something within Y/n, she stayed silent for a moment, reeling in thought. Hearing his repetition of the word safe just made her wish the same for her angels.

''I-I guess you're right. I don't want anything to happen to them, you remember last time, when it all-'' She couldn't bring herself to continue, relishing in the agony of remembering when Lucifer was cast.

''Yes, my dear, and you nearly got caught in the crossfire. It can't happen again, there is no other being like you and there never will be. The stories are that God nearly killed himself trying to create you, you are everything he wanted humanity to be.'' She smiled at this, he was trying to cheer her up with a bit of complimenting. ''Even if you are stubborn.'' She slapped his chest, as a farce and let out a small cachinnate.

---

Everyone was silent, things started to get heavy on thought and reason. No one could think of a word to say.

''One more for good measure, then we will asses you, Y/n.'' Uh, what does that mean?

---

The quiet air that surrounded the two was comforting and safe, content and peaceful. Y/n and Gabriel sat opposite one another, his wings lay in her lap as she did what she does best. Her hands traced up the outer lining of his wings, from top to bottom, before moving in the the inner feathers. She rolled a collection of feathers between her fingers each time she moving a few inches down, softly and gently. Working out the stress and the tightness that wound itself within them, he holds onto her knee, using it as a gripping post every once in a while. It wasn't a pain thing though, it was quite the opposite, the gratification and the bliss he was receiving from such a special moment was intense.

''I don't know why, I think your wings are my favourite.'' She hums out, brushing out the feathers she had been fixing in a swoop from the height of his wing and downwards, before moving on to the next section.

''Oh, really?'' Gabriel couldn't resist the playful tone residing in his comment, but that was what Y/n loved, he wasn't afraid to tease her.

''Without a doubt, they're mesmerising. Such a beautiful colour, and shape. They suit you so well.'' Slowly, she leans forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, before gently pulling herself back.

''Come on, sweetheart! You can do better than that-'' His voice is cut off by a staggering gasp as she unwinds a knot in his feather,  gripping her knee tight, he swoons.

She doesn't say a word, yet she picks up her head again, craning towards the angel's face. While continuing to brush out his ailerons of flight, she kisses him again, direct and strong. She moves against his lips with such care but much passion, Gabriel couldn't resist the slip of his tongue to her, she wasn't in any way complaining.

---

''Okay, that was upsetting to watch.'' Richard grumbles, we find ourselves back inside the green room, standing in front of us remain Chuck and Gabriel.

''You're telling me.'' I let a slanted expression reach my face.

''You mean you still don't remember?'' Gabriel's frown tugs at my heart, I feel something for him, but not as immense as what we have been watching.

''I have something that might work, but it might...do something?'' Chuck gives out a nervous chuckle, small and barely there.

''Do it, I need her back, I don't care about the consequences unless it hurts her.'' The strain and torment in his intonation is dismal.

''It won't hurt her, but it might- never mind, if it happens then it happens, if it doesn't then you will be happy you didn't know.'' Chuck walks towards me with purpose and I cower back slightly, a stern alarm on my face.

''W-Woah there, what are you doing?'' I reach out my hands in a 'stop' motion, he grabs hold of them.

''Bringing back your memory, I need you to focus on the moments you just watched, think about how you felt during them.'' I thought back, I felt as if I was the girl in the grass, and in heaven and the girl who loved the angels. I revelled in the select memories, the beautiful memories. ''Good, carry on thinking about them and how you felt.''

I felt a warmth surge through my hands, as they remained connected to Chuck's.

''It's working.'' I peek open my eyes and look down at our hands. Mine are white and hold a holy glow, my eyes widen as I look at the magic.

''This is you?'' I ask, Chuck shakes his head.

''It's you, well, it's us. You have your own powers, but this kind can only be used when I am touching you. You know you have angelic advantages, from the show?'' He explains in a way I understand, I nod. ''D-Do you want to remember this world? Along with your true one?'' I bit my lip before answering.

''I would, some people I can't let go.'' I look towards Rob, who stood off towards the side, the group of my colleagues still in shock of the situation, some whispering to each other.

''I see. Are you ready?'' The heat is getting more intense in my hands, a burning hot white light shines from then.

''I think so.''

''I need to warn you, you may not like what could happen next.'' He unclasps our hands before reaching up to sandwich my head between them. It wasn't painful, it was peculiar, my body went numb. This took around a minute before he took his hands of me.

My mind and his instantly travelled to a secluded world. It was barren and empty, but beautiful, Red sand and burnt skies surrounded me, small oasis' patched around. The sun was in a constant set, never going up nor down.

''Where are we?'' I asked Chuck, he was dressed in a white pant and shirt, I looked down towards myself. I was enclosed by a gorgeous lengthy white garment, a golden sash across my waist.

''We're in your head. How are you feeling?'' I smile.

''Like myself, thanks Chuck, nice to meet you by the way- can't believe I haven't said that yet, after all Gabe has told me.''

''Um, okay, this is going to be awkward to ask. What do you feel? When you look at me, that is.''

''Hm...'' I look into his soft eyes. I felt as if I belonged there, like it was home. My whole existence within his soul.

''That's- not good.'' He must have read me, because I didn't say that out loud. I widen my eyes, starting to panic. ''I-I mean, it could be? It depends how you feel on the matter.'' He tries to soothe me.

''Explain.'' Was all I said.

''We- well. I've linked us, not on purpose. You're life's fulfilment is with me now, along with the angels. I'm not your creator anymore, I'm your equal. Yet you are not light nor dark, your the meld of both, a mediator if you will. The love for the angels, can be found within myself now. I'm sorry, I never thought it would actually happen.'' I'm guessing this is the first time he has ever apologised, I don't know how but- I feel like I know everything about him. The almost humanitarian way he dabbles jn his powers is confronting.

''Yes, that's another edge you have, you know everything about me now, you know who I am and what I've done.'' He looks ashamed and off to the side.

''You may not be proud of who you are, but I am-'' I hold his hand and turn his head with my other. ''You're the creator, just because you have done bad things, does not mean you're a bad person.'' I feel like I've known him my whole life, I technically have. He remains silent.

''We will have our time, go seem them. If you ever need to see me and I'm not around, think of this place and I'll meet you here, no matter how far apart we are.'' He extracts us from the sanctuary.

I'm back in my own body, looking around at the awkward faces of my peers. We must have been stood, staring into space for some time.

''Hey-''I turn to Gabe as he speaks, walking towards him before I stop dead in my tracks. I swiftly run back to Chuck, slamming my lips against his, I feel my heart stutter in the shock of my own actions. He kisses me back with much more passion, before I pull away. I look at Rob, his mouth his hung open, using my power I look into his head.

He's shocked and- jealous. He thinks it's invigorating to see a version of himself kiss you. Realising he could've admitted his feelings to you, perhaps you wouldn't have gone back to them.

''Well- okay, that's new.'' Gabriel mutters, his voice cracks in the middle of his speech.

I turn and run towards Gabe.

''Don't worry, you're still my favourite.'' He yanks me into a hug, pulling me into a compact hug, I wrap my legs around his waist.

He whispers some enochian into my ear, I bite my lip and smile. Along the lines of 'should I book the hotel now or later?'.

''You know full well we don't need to do that.'' I couldn't help but tease him back, he sighs in content, happy to have us back.

''I'm- confused, what the fuck is going on?'' Sebastian calls.

''If you want, you can make them forget, Y/n.'' Chuck announces, a valley of yelling and protests wash over me from the Supernatural cast.

''Can I? It could be for the best...'' I trail off, the cast look at me with hurt in their eyes, I decide to communicate with Rob through his head.

'Rob' He looks around, alarmed. 'I'm in your mind, don't panic'

'How could you? I know you aren't meant to be here but please don't make me forget you' I could hear the pain within him.

'I won't completely, you'll know me, but not as who I am. You will know me as your colleague and friend, I'll visit you'

'I love you, I'm sorry I never said it' I heard his heart shatter.

'I love you too, maybe we can develop something in the future' Maybe I was asking too much of myself, maybe not.

''You ready to go back?'' Chuck waltzes toward me and Gabriel. ''Other angels want to see you, I can hear them, it's rather annoying.'' I smile at the thought of seeing them all again, this time knowing who they are to me.

''I think so.'' I turn back to say my goodbyes.

''Misha, you are one of the most genuine and kind people this Earth can offer, I'm so happy I met you.'' I move forward to hug him, channelling my power, as soon as I leave this plane it will activate- leaving them in the state they were before.

''Mr. Sheppard, you smarmy bastard, never change. The world couldn't take it. I'll see you soon.'' I step forward to hug him.

''My, my, Pellegrino, a tear? Not going soft on me, are you?'' He shakes his head, rolling his eyes at me. ''I'll miss you and your karaoke.'' I hug him, he holds on a little longer, refusing to let me go. I look at him with sad eyes, before turning to Sebastian.

''You and your attitude Roche, you're such a light person, you'll see me again and I promise you that. Keep up the humour, you're not yourself without it.'' I hug him, ejecting a powerful wave.

''Richard, I will admit you are my best friend, even when you're trying to sleep with everything that walks. Take care of Robbie for me, I won't be too long before my next visit, so hold on.'' I grip him in my arms, pulling gently on his beard as we part, before getting mockingly swatted away.

I couldn't sat goodbye to Rob, looking at his disheartened face. ''R-Robbie-'' I tried not to cry, saying goodbye to so many friends is breaking me.

''I can't explain how much you mean to me, I love you, in every way you can imagine. I love you all.'' I hug Rob, not wanting to let go.

''Please don't go.'' His whimper makes me finally let out tears.

''I need to. I promise I'll return.'' I think about my next action, before deciding on it.

'Pull away if you don't want this.' I say to him, his head is swimming with agony.

Kissing him, very lightly, I feel tears mix on my lips. I pull away before I get too attached.

''Gonna miss you, so much.'' He whispers to me, clutching my shirt in his hands.

''I have to go, bye Benedict, till we meet again.'' I try to spin a comedic affect into my words, stepping away from my best friends.

Chuck holds out his hands, Gabriel and I connect to them. I shut my eyes, I can't face what I'm leaving behind. I feel a golden illumination against my shut eyelids.

It's not forever, but I will miss them.

[pagesoflauren]

The Highest Bidder Ch. 3 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)

Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.

There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters. This chapter contains some dynamics of the Thrombey family that are revealed in the movie, which--as someone who has seen the movies multiple times--I personally consider to be very minor spoilers. Please read at your own risk.

Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)

A/N: Thanks for being super patient while I worked on this! This one’s mostly plot, so I promise the next one will be smutty 😏

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Ransom slams the door of his car as he sits in the driver’s seat.

His fucking family.

There was meant to be a “pleasant Sunday brunch-adjacent get-together” for the release party of Harlan’s newest book. His family is never pleasant no matter what day they gather, so Ransom should’ve known it would’ve turned into a shitshow. 

Walt had been parading around boasting about how proud he was of “his and dad’s new book” to anyone outside of the family who would listen. Ransom’s father decided to pick a little fight with him, despite his mother’s urging not to. 

“But they aren’t your books, are they Walt?” Richard taunted, “They’re Harlan’s books.”

Ransom had parked himself right at the refreshments table, nudging the platter of breakfast pastries closer to himself. He idly picked up a croissant and nibbled as he watched everything unfold. “Shit stirring prick,” Meg muttered as she grabbed a cup of coffee. 

“This is all them, Meggy,” he said, his mouth full of soft, buttery croissant flakes. “I’m just getting a front row seat for the entertainment.”

Meg rolled her eyes and walked away. Walt had smiled simply before replying. “Of course, Richard. Just like how the real estate company is Linda’s, not yours.”

Linda then elbowed Richard, a hard signal to defend himself from her little brother’s jab like the “proud husband” he’s supposed to be.

“At least Linda was able to build something on her own.” Ransom rolled his eyes at that statement while his mother patted his father on the shoulder. 

“Only because dad was generous enough to loan her a million dollars to build that company.”

Ransom dipped his croissant into his coffee and smirked as he chewed. When his father didn’t say anything, his mother blew her cap at both of them. 

It started out relatively quiet before escalating into a full on spectacle. Across the room, Ransom saw Harlan exchange a look with Marta, his nurse, before completely ignoring the situation and returning to the conversation he was having with a guest. 

“You can’t say shit, Richard, you’re getting nothing from his family!”

Ransom laughed loudly at the truth in that declaration. The three pairs of eyes turned and fingers pointed at him before insults were spewed his way. 

Rolling his eyes, he let them at him, not caring what they were saying. It was all true. He was a little piece of shit, an entitled prick, he was all of it. 

Because of them.

Leaving his half eaten croissant in his coffee cup, he placed it on the table and coolly sauntered across the room, slander following him all the way until it was directed back within the group. 

Ransom had grabbed a copy of the book, given his granddad a nod of acknowledgement as a goodbye, then left. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the yelling all the way from the parking lot. Harlan looked a little disappointed as he left. 

What did Harlan ever do for him anyway, besides give him a generous monthly allowance? What did his parents ever do for him? His mother spent her days running a real estate company while his father devoted his time to doing everything he could to get his hands on some of that money. 

And where did Ransom fall in all of this? 

Nobody actually cared about him. They shut him up with money and invited him to parties to make him feel like he was part of something. In reality, his family was nothing to be a part of. There wasn’t anything to them. Just a pile of mystery novels that turned words into money and fed it to hungry beasts. And Ransom was one of them. 

That’s what he was, that’s what he was always meant to be. His mother never let him be a kid. When the grass was bright green after all the snow melted and Ransom rolled around, staining his crisp private school uniform with virescent splotches, she yelled at him. When she instructed her husband to continue the scolding, he gave a half-assed, “Don’t do it again.” The day was ruined after that. 

And somehow, in the moment when he breathed in your perfume, he remembered one of the few moments where he was content: watching the world spin as the sky was down and the ground was up and the conifers looked like stalactites in a strange cave. 

He loved remembering that. And it terrified him. The second he started remembering the brief golden moments of his childhood, he knew it was best to get himself off as soon as possible and take off. He’d hold on to memories of how you felt around his cock for when he couldn’t get between a girl’s legs. 

He’ll never admit to anyone how often he thinks of you and the time he spent sharing a bed with you. 

Shaking his head and starting the car, he pulled away from the party venue and drove through the city. At a stoplight, he picks up the hefty novel and flips it to the back cover.

He reads something about a statue and a dead art historian. Rolling his eyes, already disinterested, he throws the book back on the seat. 

Passing through the university area, Ransom decides to grab a cup of coffee. He pulls into a parking spot, ignoring the blinking red light of the meter as he gets out to enter the cafe. 

He does a double take when he sees you exiting with a man. You look completely different: your hair is in a messy ponytail and your makeup is more natural, focusing on accentuating your features instead of looking glamorous. You’re donning a sweater with the name of the university just across the street. 

He’s rendered immobile at the sight of you. His thoughts come crashing down on him like an avalanche.

It’s been nearly two months since that night. He’s filled the days and weeks between now and then with various girls, all of whom were confident and sexy and unafraid to match his pace in bed. He could have any one of them at his doorstep with a snap of his fingers. 

So why is he suddenly frozen, watching you and some guy walk down the street? 

It was ridiculous, really, how much he had dreamt of your encounter, tried to recall your smell and the taste of your skin. He hates that he never got a sample from between your legs. He’d been so caught up in how you felt around his finger that it went straight to his cock and he just had to be inside you. 

He’s never been so caught up on anyone before. 

When he drinks whiskey, he sees you, turning in your dress and heels. He wonders if maybe he could see you again, maybe you’d be more confident, maybe more experienced…

Have you slept with anyone since July? Have you slept with the guy you’re with now?

His wonder causes him to mindlessly follow after you, sights set on the bright scrunchie that keeps your hair together as he imagines you underneath the guy you’re walking with, crying out as he thrusts into you…

Ransom doesn’t like the idea of that. He hates it, shakes his head to dispel it from his brain. Then he stops suddenly. 

But what does it matter? You weren’t anyone to him, just some girl on a website who auctioned your virginity and he bought it. He didn’t buy you. You weren’t his to own.

He’d be lying if he said he felt he got his money’s worth though. 

When he thinks about that night, besides all the erotic images of your face and how you felt wrapped so tightly around him, there was something underneath the heat and lust he felt. He saw curiosity come across your face multiple times that night and he felt the same. 

He wanted to know what you’d look like on top. He wanted to know what you tasted like (he still hates himself for not taking the opportunity). He wanted to know what sounds you’d make when he went rough. He wanted to know how you sounded when you let yourself succumb to complete, unrestrained pleasure. 

He knew you were holding back, he saw the terror that came across your face when you looked at his size. You barely even touched him. God, how would you touch him? How would your hands feel on him, running over his skin? 

There were so many things he wanted to know about you, so many things he wanted to watch you do. 

It terrified him to remember the brief blissful moments of his childhood while he was with you, and that’s why he left so quickly. But one night with you wasn’t enough.

The thought propels him forward, stepping after you again once he spies your scrunchie again. 

You’re turning a corner; he needs to catch up. His pace quickens. 

When has he ever chased a girl before?

As he rounds the corner, Ransom sees you stepping into a shop, appearing to playfully curtsey as the man holds the door open for you. He slows down a little, wanting it to appear as if he’s casually walking around. When he reaches the shop, he realizes it’s a used bookstore. 

Maybe I can grab Harlan’s book and pretend I’m selling it.

He decides against it though. He doesn’t want to risk you getting away from him. He enters the shop and immediately goes for the taller shelves to conceal himself from plain view. Peeking between the tops of the books and the next shelf above it, he spots you. You’re near the back, looking at the large, brightly colored children’s books. 

Shit, did he get you pregnant?! 

Ransom shakes his head then smiles to himself; he remembers hearing you gasp when he rolled a condom onto himself. He feels his cock twitch at the memory. 

“God, it’s so ridiculous that we have to buy our own books for clinicals,” he hears you gripe. 

“Yeah, but it’s good practice for when we’re actually in the field,” the man nudges you with his elbow, “We’re gonna have to figure out which books will suit clients’ interest and all.” 

“Yeah, I guess. I just wish I didn’t have to do this before work tonight.”

“Don’t you work at eight, though?”

Work? Why are you working when he gave you so much money?

“Yeah, but it’s less time preparing for seminar tomorrow. Not to mention the paper for fluency. Ugh, being a grad student is so hard, Toby,” you moan, leaning your forehead on his shoulder.

A hot puff of air shoots out from Ransom’s nose.

“Oh, stop it, you big baby. C’mon. It’s barely past one. We’re gonna get this done, then go back to my place and study a little. And remember why we’re doing this?” he asks, turning so his front is facing you. Your head sags for a moment, having leaned the weight of your skull on him before your neck straightens. 

“To help kids become better communicators,” you say together, as if it’s a mantra. 

“Exactly,” the man--Toby--smiles. “Besides, it’s Sunday. I’m pretty sure the diner won’t be super crowded like it was for me last night. If anything, it’s crowded with people trying to cure their hangovers right now. Then, when the diner’s empty, you can study. It’s just on the next block over, anyway. They know you’re a student, so I don’t think they’ll kick up a fuss if you crack open a notebook. It’s just you and the cook, too, right?”

You hum in affirmation as you pick up a book and tuck it under your arm. 

“So, that just shows they know nobody’s gonna be there! You’re golden!” 

You giggle as you swat his hand away when he makes to pinch you. Ransom leans forward into the bookcase in an attempt to get closer to you, enchanted by the sound. 

What the hell has gotten into him?!

“Sir, can I help you find something?” a store associate startles him.

“What--no, no. Absolutely not,” Ransom spews, fumbling around with his hands trying to look inconspicuous. His leather jacket squeaks with his movements. The associate looks confused, tilting their head as they watch him. 

“I’m just leaving,” he shakes his head, making his way to storm out the door. 

He makes his way back to his car, taking note of the diner Toby was talking about. It really was on the next block over, hard to miss with a gaudy 50s-style neon green light-up sign and fluorescent pink lettering.

Ransom smiles to himself as he makes his way back to his car. He knows exactly what to do.

The lighting in the diner is harsh against Ransom’s eyes and he blinks a little as he gets out of his car. It’s just before midnight and the streets are empty, save for a few students who are walking into the coffeeshop and drugstores around the block. Stepping in, checkered black and light gray tiles lay on the floor, though he’s certain the gray tiles are supposed to be white. There’s a counter with a bunch of red cushioned stools and booths all around the wall. 

“Evenin’ son,” the cook says as he peeks through the window on the wall beyond the counter. “You just take a seat right up here and our hostess will be right out.”

The man turns away and shouts your name.

Ransom smirks at the sound of your name, perching himself on a stool and immediately getting comfortable. The only thing that would make this better would be if the stools had backs so he could put his feet up. Instead, he rests his elbow on the counter and waits for you to come.

The kitchen door swings open.

“Sorry to keep you waiting--” your sentence stops short and he smiles deviously at you.

You’re in the same makeup and ponytail from earlier, though this time a pen is nestled where your hair is gathered, kept in place by the scrunchie you’ve been wearing. Instead of your university sweatshirt, you’re sporting a denim blue button up waitress dress, complete with a sewn on oval white patch with your name stitched into it. There’s a white apron tied around your waist. 

His smirk deepens more. If anything, this is almost like the start to a bad porn film. One where he’d bend you over the counter and--

“Hi, Ransom,” you greet him, interrupting his almost fantasy. 

“Hey,” he nods, so satisfied in your surprised expression. 

You awkwardly place the menu in front of him and wring your hands a little.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee?”

Ransom hums, pink lips puckering before he answers, “Hot chocolate, actually.”

Your nod is a little perplexed. “Okay, right. I’ll go get that for you.”

You turn to the espresso machine behind you and Ransom likes the view of your ass he’s treated to as he opens the menu. Once he’s decided, he looks up, seeing your back still turned to him as you watch hot chocolate trickle into a mug. He knows it can’t be that interesting.

“Hey,” he calls, disrupting your focus.

You whirl around, ponytail whipping about with the movement of your head. “Huh?”

“I’m ready,” he says, holding up the menu.

“Oh,” you reach into the pocket of your apron and pull out a notepad before plucking the pen from your hair. “What’ll it be?”

He multitasks, reciting his order and watching you at the same time. You seem to be avoiding looking at him, even when you ask him to clarify what bread he wants for his toast. Your eyes briefly dart up from your notepad to his face when you repeat his order.

When he hums in affirmation that you got his order correct, your movements seem to buffer. 

Got her, he thinks. 

You rip the sheet from the pad and hand it to the cook.

“Man, Monte Cristo crepes? At this time of night?”  the man whines.

Ransom gives an apathetic shrug.

“Well, alright then. You better tip our little miss here well so that she can split it with me.”

Ransom watches as you press your palm into your forehead, probably cringing at the idea of him tipping you after he paid you $50,000. 

You turn back to the espresso machine and grab the mug, carefully carrying it to him.

“Whipped cream?” you offer, taking out the silver canister from the fridge underneath the counter. 

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’d prefer having that in the bedroom.” 

You seem to huff a laugh at that and you put the canister back where it belongs. 

He takes a sip, then his face scrunches. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Is this imported?” 

It appears you can’t help the bewildered smile that comes across your face. “Um, I don’t know where it’s from, but I don’t think it’s imported.”

“Oh.” He gives an experimental sip, holding the liquid in his mouth before he swallows.

“Is it okay?” you ask.

So you’re a people pleaser… or you’re just a waitress trying to make sure your customer’s satisfied.

“Yeah, it’s acceptable.”

“Oh, good,” you smile, relieved. 

He only nods and turns his attention to the rest of the diner. It really is only the three of you there. Again, the idea of this situation being like a bad porno crosses Ransom’s mind. 

When he looks at you again, you’re cleaning the coffee machine.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Cleaning the coffee machine.”

“No, what are you doing here?”

You turn to look at him. “I’m working…?”

“Well, I can see that, but I gave you fifty grand.” 

Your head whips to look over at the cook. Ransom’s eyes follow, seeing he’s occupied at the stove. He didn’t appear to hear anything. “Fifty grand’s not nothing. Did they not send you the payment?”

“You know, I could ask you what you’re doing here, too. I didn’t pin you as someone who lived in the university area,” you say, changing the subject. 

“I don’t live around here.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Your eyes narrow. He can see you’re strategizing. 

“If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?”

“Sure,” Ransom relaxes as much as he can, though he has to be honest, the stool doesn’t give him that much lounging real estate. 

“They sent me the payment.”

“So, why are you working?”

“I go to school across the street. The money you gave me is enough to pay for the tuition costs not covered by financial aid. But I need to pay for books and rent and groceries. And it’ll be four more semesters until I finish my degree, so I’ll need a little more than what you gave me to keep my head above water.”

So that’s why you thanked him. He helped pay for your education. 

He nods, sipping his chocolate. As a plot forms in his head, he has to admit, for some cheap, unimported trash, it’s growing on him. Said plot would involve him getting what he wants from you and you no longer needing to work in this dump. He goes to open his mouth and you turn with a smile of your own. 

“You said if I answer your questions, then you’d answer mine.” 

“And if I don’t answer your question?” he challenges. 

You smile. “Then this conversation is over.”

You raise your eyebrows expectantly at him and he shakes his head, giving a half-shrug. 

“Just here to grab some Monte Cristo crepes and kill a craving,” he lies. Maybe the craving part is true, though. 

You hum in acknowledgement, though he’s not sure you fully accept his answer. Taking the towels you used to clean the coffee machine, you disappear into the back. When you return, you’re holding a notebook. 

“How long have you been working here?” 

“Why do you care?”

“Just trying to make conversation,” he feigns innocence.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of man who does that.”

Ah, so suddenly you have the ability to get a read on people? What other things does he not know about you? Your encounter at the hotel made him think you were some naive young woman who was sheltered all her life. In the fifteen minutes he’s been here, you’re showing him you’re anything but.

What else is there to discover about you? he wonders.

“I’m just asking because I might be able to help you. Financially.”

“Ransom, I have nothing else left to offer,” you say. 

So you think.

“And your payment was more than generous.”

The cook calls to you and places a plate on the kitchen window sill. You grab it and set Ransom’s order in front of him.

“Anything else I can get you?”

“Nothing...for now,” he remarks suggestively. 

You nod once and open your notebook. As Ransom revels in the cheesy goodness of the crepes in front of him, he watches you quickly jot down things onto the paper and listens to you mutter to yourself. 

As he scarfs down all the greasy morsels and chases each bite with hot chocolate, he considers badgering you more. But seeing how stressed you look, he decides to back off. 

If you were his mother, on the other hand…

When he’s done, he snaps his fingers at you. You look unamused at the gesture but clear his plate anyway. You bring it back to the kitchen. He hears some chatter and the sink running before you return and stand at the register. He’s again treated to a view of your ass as you shift from one foot to another while processing the transaction. 

“I’m taking fifteen,” the cook calls to you.

“Alright,” you shout back, tearing away his receipt and Ransom’s ready with a couple bills. 

“Just keep the change,” he winks at you. “Well, maybe give some of it to your grumpy cook.”

He likes the way you laugh at his comment. 

“Thanks,” you smile at him again. “See you...whenever, I guess.”

“Actually,” he begins, “about that help I can give you…”

You sigh. “I already told you, there’s nothing else I can offer you. You,” he watches as you pause and laugh humorlessly,” You paid for my virginity and you got it. Unless you have a kid who needs help with reading or writing, I don’t think--”

“I’m not paying you to tutor anyone.” Ransom bites the inside of his cheek as he smiles at himself. 

Maybe you can help Walt with some comprehension issues.

“I was thinking...you and I can come to some sort of arrangement.”

“‘Arrangement’?” You lean against the counter with the espresso machine, arms folded across your chest as you face him. 

“Yeah. You live with me, I cover whatever other living costs you need. And you,” he says, one corner of his mouth curls up wickedly as he leans his arms on the counter in an attempt to get closer to you, “You keep me entertained.”

The way your eyes widen slightly at the word “entertained” tells him you know exactly what he means. 

“I don’t think so,” you scoff, shaking your head and walking to retrieve your notebook.

Well, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. 

“Excuse me?” he asks, appalled. His eyes follow your figure walking to the other side of the counter. 

“I don’t think so,” you repeat plainly.

What even is this? He’s never been rejected by a woman before. They fell at his feet all the time. There were some that played hard to get, but they always came crawling to him in the end. 

He has to admit, though, he does like this side of you. 

“Why not?” he presses.

You look around as if to check if anyone’s around to hear you. “I didn’t even orgasm, Ransom,” you laugh. “I’d rather rough it and have a job here instead of entering an arrangement where I’m not going to get something out of it.”

“You’re getting something out of it,” Ransom says, standing up to follow you across the counter. “I told you, I’ll cover your living costs.”

“I mean something pleasurable, you doofus.”

You turn to go into the kitchen. 

Normally, Ransom isn’t a man who begs. But he always gets what he wants. And hell, he wants you and all the memories you bring back to him. He wants to uncover you layer by layer until he reaches your very core and knows you inside and out.

God, what is this mushy stuff he’s thinking right now?

“Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait,” he says. “You didn’t…? And because of that you don’t wanna do this?”

“No.”

“Listen, I can make you cum,” he states firmly, index finger pressing into the countertop as if to make his point.

“You don’t need to get so worked up over this, Ransom,” he scowls when you laugh at him, “You’re a handsome guy. I’m sure there’s plenty of other girls who will gladly take you up on your offer.”

Somehow, you calling him handsome doesn’t stroke his ego. Rather, it feels insulting. This is you letting him down easy. 

Fuck no.

“I don’t want the other girls.”

“Is that to suggest you want me?” you inquire. 

“The arrangement isn’t going to benefit just me in bed,” he changes the subject. 

“Oh, it wouldn’t?” you say, unimpressed again. 

His smirk mirrors yours. 

If it’s a game you want to play, game on.

“How about a deal?” 

Your eyes narrow. “What kind of deal?”

He rests his forearms on the counter this time. “I make you cum, you enter this arrangement with me. If not, you never have to see me again.”

He can see the gears turning in your head.

“Three,” you say.

“Sorry, what?” he shakes his head, confused.

“I wanna cum three times,” you tell him. 

He chuckles to himself. He likes that you’re not afraid to say what you want. Besides, another night with you would mean he gets his $50,000 worth. 

“Easy.”

“Well, then, Ransom, you got yourself a deal.” You offer your hand for him to shake.

Taking your hand, he yanks you towards him so you’re right up against the counter. He leans forward, your faces less than an inch apart. That glint of nervousness flashes in your eyes again and again, he chuckles.

“No. I got you.”

Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou @bangtan-serendipity

Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit

Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile

Highest Bidder Taglist: @imanuglywombat @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @iloganjade @twittytelly @xoxabs88xox @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @meaganottiz02 @princess-evans-addict @kianifan @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @random-things-i-love @captainchrisstan @daugtherofthenight117 @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @thatonefangirl111 @sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @farremoved @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981 @myoxisbroken @tinystudentfirepurse @opheliadawnwalker3 @starstruckghostmoneyduck @siggy85 @thatweirdwalangpake @captain-asthmatic @mery-be @isaxhorror @everythingisoverrated @imboredat2am @tsunderebae009 @arseofrivia @alexakeyloveloki @rayofdawnworld @heyarely16 @empower-bi-women @buckaro0 @readermia @bubbaduck33 @ssworldofsw @woah-kanda @itgetsdarksometimes35 @pinkshenanigan @sweetwaterprincess​

A note about tags: If your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you for some reason. While comments asking for me to tag you are okay, it is much easier for me to keep track of my tag lists if you send an ask. That’s the sure fire way to guarantee I’ll tag you. I also don’t close my tag lists!

Additionally, if I forgot to tag you, please gently remind me via my ask box.

[pla-teau]

LOKI EPISODE FOUR : THE NEXUS EVENT

GIF CREDIT TO: @luke-skywalker SPOILERS AHEAD. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

SYLVIE | there's a lot to process in the short time we get of young sylvie. it didn't seem like she was doing anything that caused a nexus event. when we see her, she's simply playing with her toys on asgard. sylvie asks about what her crime was later on with renslayer but it's never clear cut as to what she did. the only thing we know is that she escaped from renslayer which is why she's so hell bent on capturing and pruning sylvie. i have a certain thought on this later.

WE SURVIVE | the words loki tells sylvie just when she’s given up and accepted that she’ll die on lamentis. that’s what makes loki a loki - yes, he fails over and over again but each and every time we’ve witnessed his ‘death’ he comes back or when things seem to possibly end for his story, loki still manages to survive.

LAMENTIS | based on the namesake of the episode, this is the nexus event that caused them to be found but what was it? personally, from watching the episode and keeping in mind that this is 2012!loki, i think that the nexus event was hope and acceptance between them. i think there’s genuine hope despite being stuck on a doomed planet about to become smaller flying rocks in space. in every apocalypse so far, we’ve seen that basically anticipating and accepting the end of the world doesn’t cause a breach in the timeline because what is there to hope for? it’s all going to be destroyed anyway no matter the little fake hope you have inside yourself telling you that everything is going to be alright. loki and sylvie up to this point haven’t had that kind of hope before ever in their lives. with the acceptance part, i think it's self-acceptance and acceptance of their roles in the universe. roll with me here, loki throughout the mcu has never accepted his fate or what's supposed to happen; he's always fighting it and trying to come out on top as a ruler of people whether it's earth, asgard and sakaar. he doesn't accept to not be a ruler or on the losing side of a battle against earth's mightiest heroes and at odds with the other marvel characters. he doesn't fully accept himself either because he didn't know he was adopted until at least one thousand years later and he couldn't accept that he wasn't destined for something other than a shadow or simply his title as the god of mischief. it made a lot more sense in my head tbh. a lot of people freaking out about this moment being loki falling in love with sylvie/himself but i don't think that's it. loki for once genuinely cares about someone else and i think it's platonic cause while i have little faith in the mouse house giving us more than confirmation that loki is bisexual, i don't think they'd make loki fall in love with himself.

LOKI'S TIME CELL | a nostalgic reveal we get is sif in this looped time cell plucked from loki's memory. apparently, he cut off a chunk of her hair because he thought it would be funny. in typical sif fashion, she proceeds to beat him up in retaliation as well of sharing some biting words. it's interesting how after a few loops and knees to the nuts, loki apologizes to sif about the prank and admits that he's afraid of being alone and acts narcissistic and like a pompous asshole if you will because of this fear. i think this is a bigger break through of his character than the one we saw in the first episode because he's admitting it to someone from his life that he highly respected but acted like a child to her to get her attention even if it was negative. i wish for more vulnerable loki moments because it continues to prove that loki isn't just the god of mischief, he can be more (as thor said in ragnarok).

MOBIUS VS LOKI | honestly, this whole interrogation scene screamed mobius being jealous of loki making pals with sylvie and i loved it. what i like is that mobius does air the sentiment that we all have in our heads after realizing that loki and sylvie did somehow click to create the nexus event. it's narcissism to the max. again, i think loki truly cares for sylvie in a platonic or even a familial sense since they both don't make connections too often with others (romantic or platonic).

HUNTER B-15 | i was wondering what happened with her after her run in with sylvie at the roxxcart supermarket. clearly, sylvie unlocked a memory within her subconscious as well and is starting to doubt herself. we don't see what memory of hers it was but it's enough to make her break protocol and go against the TVA later on in the episode. in conclusion, we have no choice but to stan this queen. also seems like she wasn't reset in that final battle so we'll hopefully see her in the next episode.

RAVONNA & MOBIUS | their friendship is put to the test in this episode. while being of a higher position than mobius, ravonna does seem to care deeply for mobius. she said so herself, she wants to protect mobius...but from the truth instead of the false danger about sylvie that she's filling his head with. ravonna clearly knows a lot more than she's letting on and that the TVA is an elaborate lie. i think she wants to protect mobius from the truth because she doesn't seem to have other close friendships like the one with him. it's also clear she cares for him when he's pruned (supposedly!) by another hunter. also, there's this other analyst/field agent mobius always brings up when we see them in her office so i wonder if it's someone who also knows about the grand lie the TVA is or is even some alternate variant of kang the conqueror who we know is supposed to be introduced in the third ant-man movie. it'd be interesting to see if kang is teased one way or another in the final two episodes.

DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU DESERVE TO BE ALONE? | the question mobius poses to loki when he starts to believe that they may be telling the truth. it's an interesting question to pose because we've been hearing it and have seen it throughout the mcu with loki. the time loop loki's stuck in, sif tells him that he'll always be alone. throughout the mcu, loki has been alone in his plans and mischief despite being surrounded by his family, his future enemies, and his people. loki has known nothing but being on his own, being his own island of chaos. as sylvie put it earlier, they're a product of the universe trying to break free, chaos. mobius knows that this nexus event has something to do with the two of them, for once, accepting that they're not alone or that they're not just a cosmic mistake, there's hope for them to be whatever they want and not just confined to their mischievous roles.

RAVONNA & SYLVIE | in the elevator, sylvie confronts ravonna about her crime as a child. it's something everyone wants to know, what does a young loki have to do to be charged and reset by the TVA? ravonna seems to know that this something she can leverage and torture sylvie with so she claims to not remember. sylvie says that it must've been important and severe enough to mess up the sacred timeline. maybe she wasn't supposed to know that she was adopted until later in her life like our loki. she's supposed to be causing trouble and be this terrible villain but what if with sylvie knowing her true parentage at such an early age, she learned to accept herself/identity and made peace with it. that's another thing that could've caused the nexus event between the two, they had found self-acceptance even at just the brink of death. maybe they're supposed to do so but later in their lives in their own timelines so that's why it's enough to destroy the TVA as mobius hinted at earlier. happy that sylvie decided to keep ravonna for information so i expect the next episode to have them in ravonna's office or still in the timekeeper chambers as ravonna tells us what is going on.

THE TIMEKEEPERS | when sylvie beheads the central timekeeper, we learn that they're mindless androids. it never ends, there's no throne to sit upon after killing them so it seems. it was all just a giant hoax but this further feeds into my personal theory that kang, one way or another, is behind all of this. what i find really interesting is how the other two timekeepers laugh when sylvie beheads one. whoever is behind controlling the fake androids, they have a way to see what is happening and communicate in real time with the TVA agents and variants. hopefully in the final two episodes we see what the hell is going on and how the TVA came to be and why.

LOKI POST CREDIT SCENE | so apparently, loki isn't reset or something of the sorts. he's actually sent to another world. i believe this is an alternate new york where we'll see president loki as you can see the remains of the old avengers tower. this makes me think about mobius' fate to be similar to loki's; possibly sent to either the same place or a similar world. we see three human new lokis here. from the credits, we have classic loki (richard e. grant), kid loki (jack veal), and boastful loki (deobia oparei). apparently there's also a crocodile!loki and i'm here for it. can't wait to see how our favorite variant gets out of it next week!

oh god, this was so rusty and unorganized but hope if whoever reads this can somewhat understand the points i'm trying to get across.

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X8

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I freakin’ loved this episode! It was so so good! Which surprised me considering what they focused on. Based on the promo I knew that this would be DeLuca’s goodbye episode and so I expected to like the other parts of the episode we were shown in the promo such as Hayes talking to Meredith at her bedside, Richard’s storyline, and Derek’s return. However, I was not expecting to enjoy any part of DeLuca’s farewell storyline and I was pleasantly surprised. I think that’s because they focused on the effects of grief and guilt and how everyone processes those emotions differently.

It was a really interesting character study on how each person feels a loss in their own way. Despite not liking the character I actually found DeLuca’s memorial service quite moving. I think it was because they found a creative way to do it and because funerals in the real world like we normally do aren't possible right now. My grandfather died last summer and while he didn’t want a funeral my family and I weren’t able to get together to mourn his loss as we usually would and that’s been hard.

I wasn’t particularly close with my grandfather, but the loss of traditional grieving rituals in this time of COVID-19 has been frustrating. I liked that they found a creative way to have the characters mourn the loss of a fellow staff member. I expected to see Carina more, but as I understand it her storyline played out more on Station 19 which makes sense. I felt like they did a good job of showing the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance) and how everyone experiences them differently.

Teddy and Owen displayed survivors' guilt and frustration that they did everything right and he still died. At the end we see Teddy in a catatonic state and it made me think that she might be sick with COVID herself or that there was something else wrong. While I've never been a Teddy and Owen shipper I did like the moment at the end where Owen noticed something was wrong and came over to her and told her that he would take her home and when she didn't respond he picked her up and carried her.

It reminded me of the Season 2 episode where Denny dies and Izzie refuses to leave his side so Alex picks her up and carries her over to a chair in her prom dress. Very different relationships, but a nice parallel in my opinion. This episode had a lot of those. Teddy seeing DeLuca in other people’s faces was freaky! I have to say that guy is way more interesting as a ghost then he ever was alive.  

I totally got Helm's reaction. I understand why she said and thought those horrible things about DeLuca. He was an ass for a really long time. I probably would have done the same thing myself, but that doesn't mean she wanted him dead. I thought what Maggie did for her was wonderful. My heart broke for Schmitt when he described his emotions. Richard was angry and Bailey went overboard trying to figure out what happened. Everyone's experience of a loss is different and I like that they showed that.

I’m glad that Richard told Bailey what she needed to hear. It was painful, but in trying to find an answer or a reason for what happened she was unintentionally hurting the people around her who were suffering too. The strength of Richard and Bailey's relationship is that they can tell each other the truth when no one else can or will. I loved his monologue to Catherine about trying to find a meaning in the puzzle of life and questioning his faith which is such a big part of his sobriety. James Pickens Jr. did a beautiful job in that scene.

Say what you want about Catherine, but I loved her response. Richard was trying to find meaning in the meaningless and in response she shared with him that her latest scans showed that the cancer hadn’t grown. Logically it should have, but it didn’t. Sometimes there are miracles and sometimes there are senseless deaths. Life is a puzzle. We don’t always understand it. That was exactly what Richard needed to hear in that moment.

On a more upbeat note, I loved the beach scenes this week! They were perfect! They were everything I dreamed of for my favourite characters and more! We got to see Derek and Meredith get closer and talk about the kids. When Meredith is heartbroken that Derek never got to meet Ellis or to know her he tells her all of these wonderful things about her. How she’s just like Meredith and makes it clear that he’s watching over them always.

He talks about Zola and how she writes to him in her journal and how Meredith taught her to ride a bike. I teared up! I've been waiting for them to discuss the kids and here it is! Hearing Derek talk about Ellis and knowing that he watches over Meredith and the kids was so emotional for me. I loved hearing him describe who she is and getting to learn more about her. I'm glad he encouraged her to go back. As much as Derek and Meredith miss each other she's needed back in the land of the living.

Her kids need her and so does everyone else. I loved Derek's gentle teasing. His facial expressions. And then there are her scenes with Hayes! God they were perfect! I've been waiting for this! I loved how Meredith kept joyfully asking him what he did to make Ellis smile so wide and laugh so loudly. She knows he can't hear her yet there she is dying to know what he said or did. The sound of her voice when she said that was everything for me. They already feel like a couple. So much in sync.

I love that Derek, who was shown to be extremely jealous in life, encouraged her to hear Hayes out. I really felt like he was giving her his blessing and the fact that they established that Hayes has met the kids virtually and they know who he is sealed the deal for me. Hayes has now received Cristina’s approval, Derek’s blessing, and is shown to have positive relationships with Meredith’s friends and family in Seattle. I loved that Hayes told Meredith to fight and talked about how her kids were doing and how everyone needs her.

I loved that he came and sat at her bedside and begged her to fight and not give up and that he talked to her even though he wasn’t sure if she could hear him. I love that he sat with her through the virtual memorial even though he wasn’t close to DeLuca and didn’t like him. The cheerful greeting and familiarity with which he greets Amelia and Zola and the stories he tells Meredith indicates that he’s been having regular video chats with Amelia, Maggie, Link, and the kids and that he’s chosen to stay by Meredith’s side when he just as easily could have left while she was on a call with her kids.  

It will also make the transition easier when do start dating because the kids will already know him. The music in this episode was really beautiful. Especially the songs that played during the beach scenes. I really enjoyed the drunken Link, Jo, and Jackson scene. I felt it brought much needed levity and humour to the episode the same way the beer scene with Jackson, Link, and Winston did in the previous episode. Their scenes were funny and raw and provided a good balance for the episode.

I also loved seeing more of Jo and Jackson's friends with benefits relationship and more of Jo and Link and Jackson and Link's friendship. I'd actually forgotten that Jackson and Link were friends so it was cool to see that dynamic again and that Link is supportive of their situation. The drinking game to me felt like a throwback to the Season 2 episode where Meredith and Cristina are at Joe’s Bar playing a game of whose life sucks the most and she tells them that Derek is married and Cristina tells her she’s pregnant. These revelations eventual lead to Cristina scheduling an abortion and declaring Meredith her person.

It was cool to see Maggie and Winston working together at Grey Sloan Memorial. Winston living in Boston was only going to go on for so long because as we've all found out this past year there's only so much you can do virtually. I knew he'd be moving to Seattle at some point and I'm glad to see him working at the hospital and hanging with Maggie's family. The scene where he danced it out with the kids was too cute! I'll be interested to see more of their dynamic moving forward as Maggie used to be his teacher and is now his boss. I'm also glad that both Winston and Hayes are finally getting the proper screen time they deserve.

Their storyline with the naked guy cracked me up! My two favourite lines of the episode were when the guy freaked out because he realized he wasn’t wearing his mask and Maggie said, “You’re not wearing much of anything.” And when Maggie and Winston went looking for him and Zander Perez, the resident from Pac North, told them, “If you’re looking for a naked guy he went that way.” I laughed so hard!

The scenes with Zola got me. She is a real trouper. She definitely is Meredith Grey's daughter through and through. I'm a big believer in found family and one of the things Grey's does really is show that there are many different ways to be a family and that family is what you make of it. True family is made up of the people who love and support you unconditionally not genetics. I really love that they've shown the strength of that bond between Zola and her family.

My favourite hidden moment of the episode was Tom! He appears in the background at DeLuca's memorial which means he's getting better. If he's well enough to be outside at the memorial then his condition has greatly improved since last we saw and that's great! Tom's a wonderfully complex character and I'm glad he's doing better. He appears in a bunch of deleted scenes that were released through the Grey’s Anatomy Twitter account which I highly recommend. The writing in this episode was excellent!

This episode was written by Adrian Wenner whose previous credits include the Season 16 episode ‘A Hard Pill to Swallow’ in which Meredith and Hayes work that vaping case together and get to know each for the first time. Honestly, my only complaint about this episode is that I wish they’d done it sooner! I wish they had bumped this and the previous episode up. The Mid-Season Finale felt very anti-climatic to me and was poorly received by a lot of fans. I wish they had just scrapped that episode or combined it with what we saw in the Mid-Season Premiere and then jumped into this episode after the break. But we’re here now and that’s the important thing.

Onto next week’s promo. Damn does it look interesting! We see that Owen has brought Teddy home and she’s not eating or speaking and he’s worried if her condition does not improve he’ll have to admit her. I’m sure he’s having flashbacks to when Cristina did the same thing after the plane crash. She appears to be experiencing some kind of nightmare sequence where she sees DeLuca as a ghost and Meredith speaks to her. Looks intense!

Until next time!

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Worthy of Everything - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson Summary: Grayson, who had left them. Grayson, who didn’t remember a single thing. Grayson, who Damian had finally let himself accept was out of his life. Forever. Dead to him. Gone. And now his ringtone was going off. A/N: One day I’ll stop writing post-Ric/post-Robin reunions happening over the phone for these two, but not today. Wrote/edited this in an hour, and literally all based around the three paragraphs of Dick professing his love. I got that dialogue stuck in my head all week and needed a reason to write it. Sorry it sucks/is disjointed. I just want Dick to hold his son in canon again dammit. Also reminder that I tend to write Damian as a reflection of myself for cathartic/coping reasons so take that for what you will about my mental health/self image ha haAA~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~~

It surprised him, when his phone rang.

Not because it rang. Oh no, it was practically ringing off the hook these days. Once, his phone went dead without him ever touching it because it rang so often in just the few hours of that morning.

People trying to find him. People pretending to care. Pretending to be his family. His friends.

Whatever.

But no, his phone ringing this time…it was surprising. Shocking, actually.

Because it was Grayson’s ringtone.

Grayson, who had left them. Grayson, who didn’t remember a single thing. Grayson, who Damian had finally let himself accept was out of his life. Forever. Dead to him. Gone.

And now his ringtone was going off.

Dick was the only one he ever took the time to change a ringtone for. Everyone else was the default, even his parents. Because he didn’t care enough. And they didn’t care enough for him either.

Because it’s not like anyone else called him.

(Jon did. But Jon was now thousands of years in the future, and reception there is spotty at best.)

The short song was going through its third repetition now, phone twisting as it vibrated on the table. The screen was clearer now. The name Richard Grayson shone brightly.

He’d been avoiding calls. Avoiding this phone. Now it was like an out-of-body experience, watching his hand reach out and grab it.

He hit the button to answer, and slowly brought it up to his ear, but didn’t say anything. Still wasn’t completely sure it wasn’t a trick. Wasn’t completely sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He heard breathing on the line. He breathed back.

Finally, softly: “I know you’re there, kiddo.”

Damian’s breath hitched, and he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat.

This wasn’t real, he decided. Because Grayson was gone. Grayson wasn’t coming back. He accepted that. He’d finally, finally accepted that.

So instead of a greeting, he demanded, albeit dumbly, “How did you get this number?”

There was a moment of quiet, then Dick laughed.

“It’s the same number you’ve always had.” Damian could hear the smile in Dick’s voice. “So it’s still saved in my phone.”

“…If you’re looking for Batman, I’m not with him.” Damian deflected. Because, still, this couldn’t be real. This wasn’t. It was not. “Call Superman for his contact.”

The sense of joy vanished immediately. “I know.” Dick murmured blankly. “I know you’re not with Bruce.” A pause. “Tell me where you are.”

And Damian’s muscle memory was, of course, to tell him everything. Spill your life and your heart and your soul to this man like you have so many times before. Tell him how much it hurts, breathing. How much it hurts to exist anymore. How lonely you are, how lost. Tell him your fears, listen for the hope he always so freely gave.

But then his brain caught up.

Don’t do that. Because Grayson is gone.

This…this isn’t Grayson.

This is a trick.

He inhaled sharply. “You’ve always been bad at imitations, Father.” He spat. “And this is your most pathetic attempt yet.”

“No – no wait, Damian.” A near gasp. “Please don’t hang up!”

Damian found his hand tensing around the phone. Found himself, inexplicably, obeying.

“It’s not your dad. I’m not your dad. I.” Dick seemed to stumble over his words a little. “I came home, Damian.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Liar.”

“Why would I lie to you?” Dick demanded. “When have I ever lied to you?” He huffed in annoyance, and maybe…maybe a little something else. Pain? Desperateness? “Look, it’s not something to explain over the phone, okay? But I…I remembered. I remembered and I came home, and Bruce…” Dick’s voice changed now to anger. “Bruce told me what happened, what he did to clearly fuck it all up again, and that he hasn’t found you yet.”

Damian didn’t respond to that.

“I want to find you.” Dick whispered. “I…I need to find you, Damian. I need to see you.” A sigh. “I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

Damian glanced out the nearby window, stared across the Gotham skyline. He saw no silhouettes of vigilantes. No shadows that he could convince himself were moving. It was still too early. The sun wasn’t completely set yet. Not time for anyone to start patrol.

He didn’t realize he’d spoken until after he did.

“…Why?”

“Why…?” Dick breathed in a mimicry. “Why do I need to…” More sounds that weren’t words. Just confusion. Just disbelief. “Because I love you, Damian.”

Damian immediately scoffed. Opened his mouth to respond. “You-”

“And you know what’s great about that?” Dick cut off with a frustrated drawl. “You don’t get to tell me I can’t.”

Damian’s mouth snapped shut.

“You don’t get to tell me if I’m allowed to love you or not. You don’t get to control my emotions, or give me reasons you think I shouldn’t. Because I’m going to anyway. Because I do anyway.” There was a manic-ness in his voice now. A panic. A near-fury. “And because I love you, because I miss you, I’m going to find you. Whether you want to be found or not.”

There was no other sound on Dick’s end of the line, but Damian found his eyes darting across Gotham anyway, looking for a weightless man. Looking for Nightwing.

“I only called as a courtesy. I thought…I thought maybe you’d want to see me too. So you’d tell me.” Dick was calm again. Quiet. Thoughtful. Hiding the sadness. “But that’s fine. I was just hoping for a hint. But I’ll find you without one. That’s fine too. You know me, I love a challenge.”

Damian felt his lips tremble. Tears well into his eyes.

With Father, it was easy. Because Father didn’t use words. Father barely looked at him. So there was never that awkward moment of love being professed to him. He knew, deep down, maybe, that his father, his family, loved him. And most days, that was good enough.

But assuming, hoping, dreaming you were loved was never good enough for Dick Grayson. He had to let you know, be 100% sure you knew. He had to tell you.

And he’d told Damian that before. Many times. But it’d never hit as hard as it did right now, as he stood in an empty apartment, on the phone with the person he cared for most. With the person who…with the only person who found him worthy. Who he thought was gone, out of his life for the rest of eternity.

And even after all these years, it was so much. Too much.

And he just didn’t deserve it.

Knew he didn’t deserve it. Just as Grayson knew how much he loved him despite that anyway.

“…Grayson?”

Because this wasn’t a trick. This wasn’t a dream. This was real.

He sounded so childish. So weak. He closed his eyes and scolded himself, even as the tears leaked through and down his cheeks anyway. Let disappointment wash through him even as his breaths became ragged and snot filled his nose.

Grayson had come back to him. Despite everything he was and everything he’d done, Grayson came back to him. Grayson still loved him.

“I’m here, kiddo. It’s me. I’m coming to get you.” Dick murmured gently. A second to think, then try again. “Just tell me where you are.”

Damian silently shook his head, slowly crumbling to the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest, hid his face in the crook of his arm.

“I’m not taking you back to Bruce, or the manor, or anything. We’ll go back to my place. You’re coming with me. You’re staying with me. No matter what. I promise.” Dick continued. Then repeated, softer, “Just please tell me where you are, Damian.”

So, sitting on the floor, sobbing, feeling relieved and hopeful and loved and knowing he didn’t deserve a second of any of those emotions – Damian did.

[toosicktoocare]

prompt:  If you want, a whump fic idea for Dick where he gets drugged and hallucinates the fam being hurt or attacked?

This is highkey dark, so I’ll trigger warning here for hallucinations of violence, breaking and entering, Joker being his TYPICAL asshole self...

Dick’s standing just outside the manor. He can’t remember how he got there. He can’t actually remember anything. All he knows is there’s a lingering, tight prick of pain on his neck, a small, circular bump that’s hot against his palm as he rubs insistently at it.

He stumbles forward, his legs wobbly, uncoordinated, and he glances down with a loose frown, his torn, frayed suit bottoms swimming in and out of focus. He pats a bare knee, bringing his hand up to find thick, red blood coloring his pale palm. He hums, briefly trying to supply missing pieces in his mind, but he quickly finds that thinking makes his already pounding head want to split into two.

Absently wiping his hand along his side, which weirdly hurts, an inside kind of hurt that confuses him even more, he cranes his neck back up toward the manor, body tensing to alert as a familiar tuft of overly-processed green hair slinks in through the front door.

He makes to rush forward, but he falls instead, dropping hard to his hands and knees. Glancing back, he frowns when he spots dense, dark mud gluing his feet to the ground, mud that he’s sure wasn’t there moments before.

“Shit,” he hisses, twisting around until he’s clawing through the mud that seems to produce faster and thicker the harder he digs. The mud is tight and sharp at his feet, each drag of his hand bringing forth bouts of pain, but he presses forward until a sharp, familiar scream echoes from the manor.

His entire body falls rigid, and he can’t whip around fast enough. His eyes are trembling as he scans for the source, stopping at a window peering through the study. Joker’s got Damian’s arm twisted tightly behind his back, and Damian’s trying to strategically struggle against the grip, but then Dick hears a loud snap, louder than the air that puffs fast from his lungs, and Damian’s dropped to the floor.

“No,” Dick mutters clawing at the ground before him to drag his cement feet forward. He pauses when he hears a window shatter, and he whips his gaze to the sound, finding Tim unconscious and hanging over the edge of the broken window on the second floor, blood dripping like rain drops down to a pool of red at the ground below.

“Tim,” Dick gasps out, panic an iron weight against his lungs. “No, Tim!” He desperately digs his fingers into the mud below him, teeth clenched tightly. He has to...

“Watch and learn, sweet, little Bird!”

Dick’s blood runs cold, his breath squeezed from his lungs at the chilling, teasing voice that carries across the wind. He pushes himself up, head tipping toward the roof to see Bruce dangling over the edge by a tight, pale hand around his neck. Bruce is struggling, both hands wrapped desperately around Joker’s wrist, but Joker appears impossibly unfazed, and he’s laughing.

“Take notes. This is what it looks like to kill.”

Joker lets go, and Bruce’s limp body starts falling, slowly. Everything around him is suddenly too slow, and Dick reaches forward, wishing he could move, wishing...

“Bruce!”

***

Bruce jerks awake with a sharp gasp, and the almost immediate sounds of hard, frantic footsteps growing louder and closer tells him something is terribly wrong. He’s swinging his legs over the bed when Alfred throws the door open, eyes wild and worried. “Master Bruce, it’s-”

“Dick!” Tim shouts from downstairs, clashing with the loudly strangled “Richard!” from Damain.

Bruce doesn’t wait for an explanation, he follows Alfred out of the room, moving along a suffocating push of adrenaline until he’s stumbling to a stop out of the front door, his jaw going slack and his mind going frigteningly white hot.

Dick’s on the ground, brusied and bloody, and he’s moving his hands over Damian and Tim as if his life depends on it. He can hear the tremble in his voice, the repeated insistence that the Joker was just here, and that he watched him attack everyone, that he threw Bruce off the roof.

“Fear toxin.”

Bruce jumps slightly, whipping to see Alfred at his side, a syringe clasped tightly in his hand. “We’ll have to run blood work, but this antidote should take the edge off. May I?”

Nodding, Bruce finally wills his legs to move, stepping down the front steps with heavy footfalls, Alfred right at his side. He drops to a crouch in front of Dick, reaching forward but afraid his touch won’t bring comfort to Dick’s lost mind.

“B-Bruce? I saw him! You... He... He choked you. Bruce, he’s here.”

“He’s not, chum,” Bruce tries, his heart physically chipping at the loudly evident break in Dick’s voice. “It’s fear toxin. You were hallucinating.”

“No,” Dick growls, reaching forward, supporting himself with one hand wrapped tightly around Bruce’s arm. “He was here. He was... wait.” He whips unsteady eyes around, throat bobbing, entire body shaking. “Where’s Jason?”

“Richard, he’s at his apartment,” Damian tries softly. “Todd doesn’t usually stay here.”

“No... No, no, no! He has Jason! He has Jason again, and we can’t- Bruce! We can’t... Not again!”

“Call Jason,” Bruce growls to Tim, not bothering to hide the fear laced in his tone. “Get him here, now.” He can hear Tim fumbling with his phone, and then Tim’s speaking, voice shaking, small.

“J-Jay? Can you come over here? It’s Dick.”

“Jason!” Dick screams, and Bruce has to wrap both arms around Dick to keep him grounded.

“Stop, B! We have to- Jason!”

“Alfred,” Bruce growls, and Alfred bends down and jabs a syringe into Dick’s neck, pushing down hard until Dick’s frantic shaking and struggling begins to slow.

“Easy, Dick,” Bruce mutters into Dick’s sweat-soaked hair, his arms softening around Dick’s slumping frame. “We’re all here, and you are going to be just fine. I promise.”

Dick hums into his chest, and then his body all but melts against Bruce, his eyes fluttering closed and his breathing evening to slow, steady rises and falls.

“Let’s get him inside.” Bruce stands, lifting Dick with a desperate ease despite Dick’s broad, tall frame. “Alfred, prep medical for bloodwork, and call Leslie. I want a full assessment.”

“Right away, sir.”

Alfred starts off first, and Bruce keeps a slow pace to match with Tim and Damian, the two eerily quiet at either side of him.

“He’ll be fine.” Bruce isn’t sure who he’s really reassuring here, two rattled sons or his own, rapid heart. “He won’t want to see you both so somber when he wakes.”

“Bruce...” Tim starts, worrying his hands. “What do we... I mean... We should do something, right? We have to do something.”

“I agree with Drake, father. We need to track Richard’s movements over the last few hours, pinpoint his coordinates and investigate each location he’s stopped at for more than a minute.”

If Bruce weren’t seconds away from isolating himself to work through a full blown break down, he’d be impressed at Damian’s immediate willingness to agree with Tim; however, the situation at hand is very much real.

“There will be time for that, I promise. Right now our entire focus needs to be on Dick because coming out of fear toxin is-”

“-the equivalent of climbing your way out of a grave after dying,” Jason mutters as he slows his run down to a quick walk up the driveway, bike keys tightly gripped in his hand. “Heavy and confusing, but what would I know?”

Bruce can immediately tell that Jason’s attempting to deflect from his rattled fear, but he can still hear it loud and clear in Jason’s tone, a slight, frayed edge to his voice, one that’s typically reserved for his siblings.

“What happened? Jason questions, ignoring the pained, tired glare from Bruce as he falls into step beside Tim. “Who’s ass are we kicking?”

“No one’s tonight,” Bruce mutters, stepping ahead into the manor but staying close enough to hear his other, three sons.

“Christ, Jay, it was scary.”

Tim’s voice, Bruce notes, finally a little less shaky and more alert.

“We woke up to hear Richard screaming father’s name, and we found him outside. He was.... He thought the Joker broke in and attacked us.”

Damian’s voice, Bruce thinks, is still trembling far too much for his liking, but it’s the single, cracking word that follows that brings his heart to an agreement with his waning adrenaline.

“Fuck.”

***

“He would be the one to hallucinate bad things happening to his family. He’s such a softy.”

“Jason.”

“Grayson isn’t heartless like you, Todd.”

“Oh, there’s a heart in there, Demon Brat. I just willingly choose to perceive it as nothing but a lumpy organ that keeps me alive.”

“That’s the most absurd thing I think I’ve ever heard from your mouth, Todd.”

“Damn, I must be off my game if that’s all it takes to rattle that tiny brain of yours.”

“Will you two shut the hell up? You’re going to wake him.”

It takes Dick a worryingly long moment to gather that he’s the “him” in question, and that he’s awake. Sort of. His mind is wrapping around the present, but it’s a long process that’s slowed down by fuzzy roadblocks, unhinged snapshots of memories that aren’t quite forming fully.

“Wha..?” He croaks out, eyes flying open at the shouts that follow.

“Dick!”

“Richard!”

“Easy, idiots! You’ll overwhelm him.”

Dick’s eyes dart around each face, drinking in each sight. He’s not sure why, but he’s desperately relieved to see his family. His eyes linger on Bruce’s face, a need he doesn’t fight, but then panic hits, and he whips his entire head until he finds Jason, alive, not... captured? He thinks; he’s not sure.

“Fear toxin,” Jason supplies quietly, knowing that look all too well. “You saw the Joker.”

Dick’s immediate response is to bark out question after question, his memories flooding through is mind like murky, cold water, but Bruce rakes steady fingers through his hair, easing some of the panic pressing against his ribs.

“There’ll be time to talk, son. But right now, you need rest. You’re concussed, you have three broken ribs, various lacerations, and your ankles and feet are scraped up pretty badly.”

“I...”

“We’re all fine, Dick,” Jason presses firmly, catching Dick’s clouded eyes.

“And we will still be fine when you wake again.” Damian takes a seat on the edge of Dick’s bed, mindful of the tubes and wires. He places a single, steady hand to Dick’s covered arm, a wordless reassurance that Dick clings to.

“You’ll all still be here?” Dick rasps, throat a dry burn from disuse. He’s bone tired, exhaustion tugging at him from all angles, tethering him to another bout of dreamless sleep.

Tim steps closer just as Dick begins to fade, his arm brushing against Jason’s, and he brings a voice to what’s colored in everyone’s eyes, what’s reflected in the strong, protective postures surrounding Dick’s bed.

“We aren’t going anywhere, Dick.”

[baronessblixen]

The Three Lost Children

This is my entry for the @xfilesfanficexchange Horror Fanfic Exchange. My words were lost and abandoned. Set in season 6.

The reason I’m posting it here as well as on AO3 is because this is also today’s Fictober story! Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober

Fictober Day 24

New England in autumn is a sight to be seen. Mulder drives them through the vibrant, popping colors and Scully watches, almost like a child, in silent awe. She can’t wait to stop the car, walk through the rustling leaves, take in the fresh air. Listen to the breeze of the nearby ocean. She hasn’t been to the ocean in so long and her soul aches for it. She chances a glance at Mulder. They’re both quiet, lost in their own thoughts. She wouldn’t be able to guess what he’s thinking about. Lately, this is all they’ve been; a long stretch of silence, of unspoken pains.

The longer they drive, the lonelier it becomes. She doesn’t know why they’re here, not really. Something about apparitions, something about a cold case. As so often, she just followed him, barely asking for an explanation, still trusting him with their work. Even after Diana. They’ve been inching back towards normalcy. But in her mind, it’s ever present. Before Diana, after Diana.

Mulder sets the blinker and turns onto a small, nondescript gravel path. She glances at him but he doesn’t say anything. They follow the path and Scully watches as the trees grow rarer, most of them bald, barely alive. She shivers involuntarily as a house comes into view, growing bigger and bigger. Mulder slows the car and parks at it what must have been a gate once.

“We’re here,” he says unnecessarily, turning to her. They get out of the car and Mulder stretches, holding his nose into the air, half a smile on his face. Scully watches him, half amused and, despite herself, a little bit in love with him.

“Mulder,” she says, looking at the house in front of them, abandoned and broken, “why are we here?”

“This house is said to be haunted.” Whenever he talks about haunted places, his face lights up. An enthusiasm she’s never been able to share.

“You already took me to a haunted house on Christmas Eve, Mulder.” And they almost ended up dead. Or so she thinks. The memories of that night are still hazy and untrustworthy. “I can’t keep doing this,” she says to herself but he hears her, throwing her a look she can’t decipher. They’re the only living things around here. Not a single bird is singing. The trees are watching on, dead und unmoving. Something is not right. She stops and looks around. The cold feeling is back, taking hold of her. As if someone were softly scratching her with long fingernails, making her shiver all over. She takes a step forward but the sensation remains.

Her eyes are drawn to the house. She squints, tries to see it for what it must have been once. The bricks are laid bare, the house a mere skeleton. It seems to be standing up by pure will. Part of it has crumbled to the ground, a big hole gaping in between the main house and a smaller cottage. They must have been a unit once. Now, they’re standing on their own sides, not touching, decaying by themselves, still in sync.

“Let’s go inside.”

“Mulder, wait.” He stops and turns around. “Why are we here? How is this an X-Files?”

“Just follow me.” He keeps on walking, pushing open the creaky wooden door. Scully huffs. So much for her New Year’s resolutions. There’s something about this house that repels her. She’s not going to admit it to Mulder. She barely admits it to herself. But she feels it all around her in the cool air, the eerie silence. There’s a presence here. Something rotten and evil.

“Scully?” Mulder asks from inside, his voice sounding obscured. She takes a deep breath, the smell of decomposition in the air growing stronger the closer she gets to the ajar door. She steps inside the damp, old ruin and looks around.

Mulder is on the stairs and they creak in pain with every step he takes.

“You still haven’t told me,” she says, walking through what must have been a kitchen once. There are a few cups on the table, on the counters. One day, someone walked out here and never returned. She doesn’t dare to look into the cups. One is chipped, another one has faded colors. There was life here, once.

“Told you what?” Mulder yells from upstairs.

“What we’re doing here.” Scully leaves the kitchen and finds herself in the main hall. She stares at the big, dark wooden grandfather clock in the corner. Her heart starts pounding as she realizes that it’s showing the right time. The hands are moving, tick tock, tick tock. How is it possible that this clock is ticking? How is it possible that anything is alive in this house?

“Come up here, Scully. I want to show you something.” She gives the clock one last look but it goes on steadily. It feels as if it were watching her with stern eyes, judging her. As soon as she turns around, facing away from the clock, she hears it. At first it’s soft, barely discernible. A laugh. She keeps on walking and there it is again. More laughter. It sounds like… like… children’s laughter. She turns back, gasping. There’s only the clock, mocking her with its precision. She takes a breath, reminds herself that perception can play tricks on your mind. There might be children outside, playing games. That’s what she heard. It must be.

As she ascends the stairs, the wood moaning, she touches the walls where yellow lines speak of picture frames that must have hung here once. Who lived here? She wonders. What happened to them?

“There you are,” Mulder says upstairs, his head peeking out of a small room.

“You owe me an explanation.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He touches her arm and leads her into the room. Gloomy light falls through the broken windows, fracturing this room, a child’s bedroom. Scattered toys, old and dusty, some gnawed on. Sadness engulfs her as she stands there, cold to the bone. She hugs herself but it neither brings her comfort, nor warmth.

“What are we doing here?” she asks again, the anger in her rising.

“One day in 1879, a girl named Lucy Monroe disappeared. No one expected fowl play. An accident, everyone said. The parents were devastated, left their house and moved away. No one heard from them again. Things went back to normal and no one thought about poor Lucy or her parents. That is until the next two children disappeared, a pair of siblings.” Mulder picks up a toy car and blows off the dust.

“Is this- did Lucy Monroe live in this house?” Scully looks around and her eyes linger on the wallpaper with colorful balloons and clowns.

“She didn’t,” Mulder goes on. “When Lucy disappeared, this house belonged to one Richard Watkins. His neighbors described him as an inconspicuous, religious man. He, his wife and their three children went to church every Sunday but liked to keep to themselves. Until a fire claimed the life of his wife and children. That’s when everything changed.”

“What changed?” Scully asks. Damn Mulder for knowing how to tell a story. He’s walking around in circles, still holding the small toy car. He turns to her, his face solemn.

“Richard Watkins bundled all his pain and his hate against God. He stopped going to church, stopped leaving the house altogether. People in town started talking about him. It became a dare for children to find this house and catch a glimpse of this ungodly man. The gossip started, as it always does. They said Richard Watkins turned his back on God, like he’d done to him, and worshipped Satan instead.”

Scully wants to roll her eyes, or laugh. She can’t. Mulder’s voice is mesmerizing. As is the story he’s telling. She stares at the three small beds, barely touched. She freezes. One bed, an old moldy mattress still in place, has an indentation. It almost looks like a child’s body. Scully looks away, focuses on Mulder and nothing else.

“What does this have to do with the case, Mulder?”

“Don’t you feel it, Scully? This house… it’s haunted.”

She feels it. She feels it in the strange scratching sensation that’s intensifying. She feels it in the heaviness of her bones. This house has memories and it is aching from them. She feels that same ache, too.

“I don’t feel it,” she lies. “Maybe you should have brought Diana. All I feel is a draft. I’m leaving.” She is angry with Mulder and angry with herself. Why does she continue to let herself be lured out to these places, into myths and folklores? This is not her job. She could be at home, she could be doing something of consequence. But here she is, in yet another haunted house, chasing ghosts and chasing Mulder.

This has to stop.

“I haven’t told you the rest of the story,” Mulder calls out but she’s already back on the stairs. She doesn’t reply, refuses to listen. She’s not as proficient in running away as Mulder is but she can manage.

Still on the stairs, she hears the clock in the main hall. Is that her imagination or has the noise increased? Drawn by an unknown force, Scully returns to the hall. Her eyes fall on the clock, the wood darker than she remembers it. Among all these broken, forgotten things, the clock doesn’t fit in. It doesn’t fit at all. Her eyes are trained on the hands. Maybe none of it is real, maybe she’s just imagining it, fueled by Mulder’s story. But they keep moving steadily.

The clock strikes the full hour and there’s a drawn-out creak that sounds as if someone were opening a door, but slowly. She stares at it, the clock, unmoving but for the hands. Tick tock, tick tock. The creaking stops and then everything else does, too. Scully holds her breath for a second, then lets it out. It’s all in my head, she reminds herself. She relaxes. There’s nothing wrong with this clock. Nothing at all.

Just as she’s about to leave, the clock-face crumbles, falls apart, and reveals a new face, half man, half not. Blood-red eyes meet hers for the flash of a second. An evil grin with sharp teeth, horns protruding from the forehead. She’s seen this face before. In stories, in her nightmares. It’s the face of the devil. Unable to look away, her shaky fingers search for her gun. She stops when she hears the soft, gentle sound of laughter close to her.  

Someone’s touching her. There’s pressure on her arm but as she looks down at it, there’s nothing there. Only laughter in the air. Happy, unabashed children’s laughter.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” a child’s voice singsongs. Scully makes a complete turn but she’s all alone. There’s only her and the big, dark clock that sits there unremarkably. The face, she notices, has gone back to normal.

“I’m losing my mind,” she murmurs, slowly walking backwards. She needs to get out of this room, out of this house. When her back comes into contact with something warm, something solid, she screams.

“Hey,” Mulder says, holding her by the arms. “It’s just me.”

“Did you hear it, Mulder?” she asks him.

“Hear what?”

“The children.”

“What children?”

“There was children’s laughter, there was-“ she stops. She sounds crazy. Mulder looks at her as if she’s lost her mind before he cracks a smile.

“So now you agree with me? This place is haunted.”

“Why did you bring me here?” she yells at him. All the anger and frustration she’s been feeling these last few weeks break out of her.

“I- the case, I-“ He’s stunned by her outburst. “I thought we could… I wanted to show you this house, tell you the story. I’ve been fascinated by it ever since I was a child myself.” His eyes grow soft and so does she.

“Tell me,” she says, feeling weak. “But not in here. I need fresh air.” They walk outside together, Mulder holding Scully’s hand. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this but this place is creepy, Mulder.”

He chuckles softly. “I know. Can I finish my story now?” Scully nods at him. “No one ever found out what happened to Lucy Monroe or the other two kids that disappeared. They were never found. But Richard Watkins was. The details are hazy but he slipped one night, fell down the cliffs and died. An act of God, it was later surmised. Because of what he’d been planning. They never found the kids but they found Lucy Monroe’s doll in his house, clothes that the kids had been wearing, too. They searched the whole place but no other traces could be found. It was said that Richard Watkins was planning to sacrifice the children to Satan the night he died.”

“The children,” she mumbles. She thinks of the laughter she’d heard and shivers. It can’t be. It just can’t be. There’s no such thing as haunted souls, a haunted house.

“You heard them.”

“I heard something,” she admits. “There might be children playing here somewhere that-“

“There are no children here, Scully. Listen. You heard the three lost children. That’s what folks around here call them. The three lost children. They’re said to be haunting this house. In early 1900, people tried to sell this house. Enough time had passed, they’d figured. No one has been able to stay here longer than a few weeks. The last recorded family that moved in were the Hendersons in the 50s. A newly married couple, just starting out. While Mr. Henderson never heard the children, his wife sure did. She thought she was going insane. They’d been trying for a baby and everyone, including her doctors and her husband, thought that unfulfilled wish was causing her audiovisual hallucinations.”

Is that why she heard them? Because of her own failure to conceive? She pushes the thought away.

“What happened to them?”

“They moved out. Their marriage was in shambles by the time they did. Mr. Henderson was so angry that this house, their dream house, was causing them so much misery that he destroyed half of it.” They both turn to look at the house, at the gaping middle.

“They separated?”

Mulder shakes his head. “They almost did. Their love for each other was strong though.” He stares at her, his eyes so green, so open, that she feels powerless. “They moved away. They worked on their marriage. They healed. Together. And then, not long after, Mrs. Henderson became pregnant. She gave birth to a healthy baby girl. The end.” He grins at her.

“How do you know all this, Mulder?”

“Because,” he says, taking her hand and leading her to the car. The more distance they bring between themselves and the house, the freer Scully feels. The tension leaves her body. “The Hendersons were our neighbors. That little baby girl? She grew up and used to babysit me. We came here when I was about 10 years old after I’d begged my parents. I haven’t been able to forget about this story ever since. Neither of us heard the three lost children though. But you did.”

“Mulder…”

“It’s okay. I know you don’t want to admit it. Most people don’t hear them. Only a few have reported the laughter and… feeling an evil presence in this house.” He touches her arm, strokes it gently. “Legend says only people who are pure of heart can hear the children.”

Scully snorts. “You had me until that last bit, Mulder.” He shrugs and smiles at her. “There is no case here, is there?”

“Oh, there is. But not here exactly. It’s further up north. I just wanted to take you here, share this with you. After… after everything.”

She bites her lip, but she can’t resist. “Have you ever taken Diana here?”

Mulder looks genuinely surprised. “No,” he says and she knows he’s telling the truth. “I never even thought about it.”

“Good,” she says and opens the car door. Mulder puts his hand over hers.

“I know it may take a while,” he says, his voice breaking. “But I want to win your trust back.”

“You never lost my trust,” she says. “And you and Diana… I know it’s none of my business and-“

“Of course it’s your business,” he cuts in. “It is your business. I want it to be. I thought I’d made that clear.”

“Clear, Mulder?” She raises an eyebrow. “When?”

“The hallway,” he says, his eyes fixed on hers. She blushes. “Taking you on all these adventures when we were off the X-Files. I mean it, Scully. I can’t do this alone. I don’t want to do it alone. I want you here by my side. If that’s what you want, too.”

She stares at the house, thinks about the Hendersons. He tore half of it down to repair something else, in a new place. Maybe they can too. She thinks of the laughter, of the three lost children, of the evil in this house. She doesn’t want to stay here in this place. She wants to move on, move past what’s holding her back.

Scully takes his hand and interlaces their fingers. They both stare at their hands as if they were a small wonder. Maybe they are.

“I want to be here, do this with you. I- I should probably tell you what I saw in there or what I thought I saw. Maybe there’s an X-Files here after all.”

“You don’t have to, X-Files or not.”

“I want to,” she says. “But not here. Let’s keep driving. Okay?”

He nods. “Just one thing before I lose my nerve again or before anything else happens.” He lowers his head, giving her ample time to move away. She won’t. She wants this. She’s been wanting it for so long. Their lips meet and everything around them stops mattering. It’s a soft kiss, a hesitant first. There’s still some rubble between them that they need to clean up.

There will be time to do that later.

“I’ve always wanted to make out at a haunted house,” Mulder admits when they disconnect. Her lipstick is smeared against his mouth, a bit on his cheek, too.

“Why am I not surprised?” she says with a smile.

“Let’s go. I think there’s something you wanted to tell me.”

[lennydaisy]

SWAN SONG || The Walking Dead AU

‘You have to trust that every friendship has no end, that a communion of saints exists among all those, living and dead, who have truly loved God and one another.

You know from experience how real this is. Those you have loved deeply and who have died live on in you, not just as memories but as real presences.’

HENRI NOUWEN

                         The Walking Dead.

        Season 1-?

                                         FEM OC! and ?

This is the prologue for a Walking dead AU that I wrote ages ago, and I feel like its too good to waste. So here it is :))

‘Now to John, who's live at the scene. John, what's happening there?'

'I'm here at Central Atlanta Hospital where there has been a reported disturbance within the wards. Patients allegedly have gone rogue, biting and scratching the doctors and each other.'

'If we pan to our left here, you can see the hallways are overflowing with newly found patients from the attacks.'

Glancing up at the ancient box TV perched in the top corner of the room, eyebrows frowned as I take another bite of my bland chicken sandwich.

The screen displays a lit yellow Hospital hallway with beds and chairs cluttering the space. With no room to breathe, the patients packed together like a tin of sardines.

The camera zooms into one patient in particular, who judging by their attire is a nurse themselves. A sickly colour of unnatural grey washed over their face, a layer of sweat glistening under the cheap lights and her veins protruding from her neck as though she's struggling to keep herself calm.

'Miss, would you be able to explain how your feeling?'

I can't help but scoff at the reporter's request. She is clearly in no condition to answer any of his questions and it's downright ignorant to shove a microphone in the face of a woman who has clearly seen better days.

The women slowly turned to face the reporter, her eyes appearing to lack any colour with bags drooping down to her jaw, and glares with all she can muster. Despite clearly being exhausted from whatever is happening to her body, she has no problem expressing her aggravation towards the man.

'Not responsive I see. Well no mind, as the viewers at home can see, Central Hospital is in desperate need of doctors and nurses. So I'm here to announce that if there is anyone-'

I don't know how to describe what I just saw. Just know that it was revolting enough to put me off chicken sandwiches forever.

In the midst of the reporter's announcement, a pair of hands slowly made their way around his body. Their nails were bitten down to stumps, their fingers a troubled colour of blue as though clogged with blood. The sickly hands, lazily but purposefully, claw at the reports button-up shirt from behind. Tugging on the attachments like grips, the women who the reporter was previously questioning is now sinking her teeth into the man's neck. Trails of blood dripping from her lips as she pulls her jaw roughly away from his neck taking a clump of him with her.

The look of pure horror wash over the man's faces, and mines in probably mimicking his. I've never seen anyone's eyes pop so far from their head. The face of sheer panic and terror covering his visuals as he opens his mouth to let out what I can only assume to be a deafening scream but before a sound is made the camera quickly cuts back to the studio, where the two anchors are now shaking at the sight they just witnessed live.

'We'll be back after this quick intermission,' squeaked out the anchor, eyes still wide, never leaving the screen off camera.

'Were you recently involved in an accident?',  the convenient ad was interrupted by the television being turned off. Snapping my head to my right, only to be met by the sheepish face of Darcy, the department receptionist. Smiling weakly at me from her desk, "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Nothing to worry about. "Were we just watching the same clip," I breathe baffled at the idea of not worrying about what we just witnessed, "That man just had his neck bitten into but some Wednesday Adams looking women," I laughed, struggling myself to understand what just happened.

"I'm sure he's fine," she waves her hand in my direction before quickly standing up as I did seconds before, " What are you doing?" She questions as I grab my hat off my peg.

Rolling my eyes as I make the reach for my keys, "My job," my fingers scraping the keys before they are snatched out of my reach. Looking up at the elderly women with bored eyes, I hold my hands out waiting for her to cave.

"No, half the department is already helping the city, we need you here in Kings County," she argues quickly running back to her desk, sliding into her roller chair. Out of my vision but not hearing, I hear the clashing of keys, the slamming of metal and the sound of a lock.

She locked my keys in her desk.

"Darcy- " I begin only to be interrupted.

"No" she heaves, hands crossed over her chest tightly, "It's bad enough those two are God knows where doing God knows what, I can't allow the only deputy left in the building to leave."

I would be annoyed and honestly, I am, the woman isn't not letting me do my job, but with just a simple look in her eyes I can see why she doesn't want me to leave, "You're scared," I point out pulling my chair over to the front of her desk, sitting my hat on the table.

Refusing to meet my eyes answered my assumption. She was scared and she had every right to be. What we just watched on the news isn't normal but it's not the first we've heard of this 'infection'. It's been going on for weeks, especially in the city. Residents reporting sights of people staggering through the streets, grabbing and biting anything they can get their hands on. Honestly sounds like a typical weekend in the city in my opinion, after a couple of drinks, you'd be surprised what some people turn into. I haven't seen any of these things personally but that news clip just made everything people have been bustling about all too real.

"These things are apparently migrating. It's not just a city virus, they're making their away out into places like this," her hands brushing the nonexistent lint off the top of my hat, her voice so soft, if you didn't listen closely enough you'd miss it.

"I'm not going to fill you with false hope because honestly, I have no idea what is happening but I will say this if I know you at all, something like a little virus isn't going to be the end to the bombshell that is Darcy Peters."

A small smile begins to creep onto her face, "You should have seen me in my youth," flipping her white shoulder-length hair.  Shaking my head with a giggle, I lean over her desk and turn her desktop towards me looking at the set back of work left for her to complete. Moving the mouse to the bottom of the screen I log her off, " Take the rest of the day off."

Knowing fine well she would say no, I left her no room for arguments as I hastily grabbed her coat passing it to her, "Don't tell me no Peters, Deputies orders," I said with authority behind my voice but eventually broke out into a smile at the delightful women before me.

"But what about-" she points at the computer addressing the work she still had to do. Grabbing the women's hands as I begin to drag her out the door, "Don't worry I'll handle it but you need to go home and chill out," snatching her car keys as I begin walking with her hand in hand to her beloved mustard Ford Fiesta.

Opening the driver's door, "M'lady," I bow holding the door. Shaking her head at my act, she wraps her arms around my shoulders, brings me in for a hug, slightly shocked but I hug her back none less, "Thank you, Macy," she laughs in my ear before pulling away, cupping my face like an affectionate grandmother.

Slapping my cheeks lightly she points her finger timidly at my face, "Now no running off play superhero, you're needed here," her eyes never leaving mine as though to challenge me to say otherwise. Well, I like a challenge, "No promises."

A dead look in her eyes causes me to laugh once more, "Okay, I promise I won't run off, I'll stay put. Now beat it, tell Richard I say hi," closing the door behind the women before stepping away from her car.

Just before she was about to drive off, she rolls down her window, "Oh before I forget, here's the key to the desk. Also there's something for Officer Friendly in there you won't miss it," see spoke throwing the flimsy key my way. Nodding my head towards the women, I mockingly salute her off, catching a glimpse of her rolling her eyes smiling.

Tossing the small, rusted key between my hands, I make my way back to Darcy's desk. After a couple of shakes and jiggles, the lock to the drawer eventually clicks. Pulling open the drawer, I grab my car keys stuffing them in my back pocket. That's when my eyes catch a shine reflecting out of the space. Reaching my hand in my finger brush across metal embroidery.

A Sheriff badge.

Unable to help the smile that made its way to my face as I stare down at the achievement of my friend. 'Officer Friendly's going to flip. So will someone else but for a different reason.' Shaking the thought from my head, I quickly run round to the desk of the newly found Sheriff. Going to place the shining badge on the desk, a note stops me;

Gone for a quick lapse of the county. If I'm not back by finish, I'll see you tomorrow, Officer Friendly.

Still sitting the badge on his desk, hoping that he at least makes it back in an hour, his face will be priceless. Snatching the remote from the floor, I flick the television back on, wanting to see if there are any updates on the situation.

'Government officials have requested that everyone stays inside their homes, only leaving unless extremely necessary. Until this is contained, please be cautious. This has been channel 5's news.'

Drowning out the rambling of the adverts, I absorb myself I'm my phone. 7 texts, damn I'm popular.

From Corey. Hey, can you drop me off :) Sent 07:39

From Corey. Oft okay never mind then I know I broke 3 of your car window, but that doesn't forbid access does it?? Fine two can play at that game, I'll walk. Ummmm that's when you're supposed to be the super big sister and say 'no sweet little sister, don't walk and ruin your BRAND NEW BOOTS, I'll happily drop you off' Boo you, you suck :(( Sent at 07:57

From Corey. Hey, can you pick me up ;) Sent at 17:12

This girl, I swear.

To Corey. I'll think about it :)) Sent Now.

Collecting my things, preparing myself for my leave. All too quickly trying to rush out the door, I skid to a halt and turn round to a certain desk in particular. Contemplating my options, I decided to take the newly found badge with me. For one; it is past shift time and I really want to witness his face when he gets promoted.' I'll just give it to him tomorrow when everyone's here', I thought.

Now I'm well aware that my car isn't exactly the best site for sore eyes, I'll be the first to admit that, but it was my dream car and it was the first real big purchase I ever made as an adult. My glorious, yellow Volkswagen Beetle. She's seen better days that for sure, but she means a lot to me and a couple of bumps and scratches isn't going to make me trade her in. Ever.

I grew up in Mormont, Georgia. A small county that no one has heard of and when people ask where I'm from I'm always met with the same look. In Mormont everybody knows everybody. It's a tight-knit community with no secrets. When word got out the resident widow had adopted 3 girls from the now shut down orphanage, the community was sent into a frenzy.

The same woman who was framed for burning down her old farmhouse that her husband happened to be still asleep in, was now going to be a mother of 3 very different daughters.

Without my mom I wouldn't even be here today, I would be how I am today. Mom adopted me when I was 4 years old, and even at a young age, I know that something about me was different from the other kids at kindergarten. Kids would come and leave joyfully holding the hands of their parents whitest they rambled on about what we did that day. I would leave on a bus with a woman who didn't really care enough to remember my name, looking after me in the centre was just a 9 to 5 for her and she got to go home to her family without a care in the world. I will never forget the day I was called down to the main office.

Believing that I had done something wrong, I reluctantly climbed down the creaking bunk beds steps. Looking around the room, I'm met with many stares, some glaring, some shaking their heads. I was in a room surround by judgemental toddlers.

I've never been called down to the office before. I've seen others been called down and they never come back. Tommy told me that Glenda, the houses mistress, feeds them to the two-headed man in the attic. I never believed him, knowing that he only wanted to scare me but now I'm not so sure. 'I don't want to be eaten', I thought.

One step at a time, I slowly make my way down the wooden steps that despite my lightweight still shriek under my shoes. Before I reach the bottom of the stairs, I'm met by the glorious Glenda. Her lopsided, spectacles clawed eyes boring down at me, 'Come,' she said before spinning around and heading to the room she just walked out from, 'There's someone here to see you."

'Someones here to see me? But I don't know anybody' I thought to myself as I follow behind the women with a newfound spring in my step.

"Mason this is Charlotte, she'd like to adopt you."

I guess you could say that's when I knew. When I first land my eyes on hers, I felt something that then in my short 4 years of life had never felt before, safe. Fast forward 22 years and that feeling had never left. Like the light of an eternal flame, that shine behind my mom's eyes never left, never even flickered. It's a constant reminder, I knew it when I was 4 years old and I still know it now at 26, that home isn't found in a physical building but instead found in those you surround yourself with.

No matter how hard I try, I will never be able to fully express my gratitude towards my mother. She gave me a chance and took me into her home with open arms. She says 'Thats what mothers do' and that might be true but she didn't have too. That's just the type of person she is. A heart of gold, a heart that is far too big for this world. She might not be my birth mother but in my opinion no one could do better, I don't know what I did in a past life to deserve the right to call her my mother, all I know is that I'm forever thankful for that.

Cora, or Corey, my sweet baby sister. The best way to describe her would be prissy. A real drama queen but strong-minded. When it comes to Corey no mountain is too high. Basically it's Corey's world and we're all just live in it. I take deep pride in telling her that she was an ugly baby and I'm not telling any lies. One look at her baby pictures sends a shiver down your spine.

She's your basic stressed college student who believes that the world will end if she fails to hand in one essay on time, but has no problem with partying the night before a big exam. Beginning to understand what type of person Corey is?

Then there's Ally. The big sister, my big sister. I remember growing up and always wanting to be like her when I grew up, I thought she was the coolest person in the world. She shaved off her hair when she was 18 and me and my 8-year-old self desired to do the same. Mom was mortified and kids at school did laugh at me for a while but I didn't care, I wanted to be like my sister, buzz cut and all.

As I grew up however I realised something, Ally had a darkness inside her. When I was younger I never noticed, I always saw her acts for rebellion as inspiration for my own mischief but as I got older and matured, she never. She always stayed the same. It some cases that's a good thing if you're a good person that is. I never believed my sister to be a bad person, more troubled than anything. I think why you get to the age of 36 and still rebel against your mother like an edgy teenager somethings not right.

Ally thinks the world is constantly against her, that the whole world is testing her, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I was the first to know she was pregnant, she didn't tell me herself but the positive stick sitting in the bathroom bunker was a big give away. I've seen her anger a handful of times and more often than not it consumes her, her anger is her own worse enemy and that day I meet the worst of it. There was a lot of screaming and hitting, and things being thrown in my direction. Luckily enough no one else was home when all this happened, but it was quite hard to explain why I had a black eye and Ally had burst knuckles. I lied, that's what I did.

'I got jumped,' it was the best I could come up with at the time. I made up a story of me being mugged and Ally saving the day. Mom barked up a storm, ask question after question, and I was slowly running out of ideas for my action sequence. That was until Ally spoke up,

'I'm going away for a while,' she said placing her fork down on her barely touched the plate, 'Work,' she replied to the looks that were sent her way. I refused to meet her eyes but I knew fine well that she was staring at me in particular, that didn't stop me from listening though.

'Oh, well for how long?,' Mom asked swirling around her glass of wine, 'A couple of months.'

'And what work relate thing causes you to be away for a couple of months?' Corey spoke up, her eyes never leaving Ally's as though to challenge her, 'The companies looking for a new manager, I thought I would try and run for it. It is more money,' she spoke trying to convince not only Cora but our reluctant mother too. Reluctant and our mom isn't two words that I would put together, she's a keen believer of 'if you want it, go and get it', but not when it comes to Ally.

'It seems like a good opportunity,' mother said honestly, nodding her head at her oldest daughter, 'seems like bullshit,' I muttered under my breath causing my mom to kick my shin from under the table, only to be faced with the stern stare of my mom.

'Language Mason' sternly spoke our mom making Cora laugh slightly at the use of my full real name.

'I'm just saying, she seems to go on a lot of these trips and comes back empty-handed every time, sorry for having some doubt.'

'That's enough Cora,' Mom said not breaking eye contact with her youngest who is sitting across the dinner table from her, 'yeah whatever, can I be excused?' Before she could get an answer she was already on her feet marching out the room.

Nodding sadly, mom looked around the table at the remaining 2, 'Macy, darling,  you've barely touched your dinner.'

Meeting her eyes, 'I had a big lunch,' the lies pouring out my mouth at this point.

The rest of the dinner that night was filled with awkward silence. The sound of the chair next to me scraping against the old hardwood floor breaks my concentrated gaze on my plate. Ally's hard duty boots marching out of the room and storming up the stairs.

My mom let out a sigh and placed her fork on her now empty plate, looking up at the only remaining daughter at the table. Flashing my mom a small smile, taking a sip of my now lukewarm water, "You make good spaghetti mom"

"Go check on her for me please," she practical begged, her voice suggesting nothing but defeat, "She never talks to me anymore."

'I'm probably the last person she wants to see," is what I wanted to say to my mom, but looking at my mother with her head in her hands at the thought of my troubled older sister broke my heart.

Before taking the dreaded walk up the stairs and to the door at the end of the hall, I placed a hand on my mom's shoulder, squeezing in reassurance.

'Everything will be okay.' I thought to myself.

Knocking on the door, only to receive no reply, 'I know you're in there,' I said continuously knocking on the oak door. Getting bored with being ignored, I did the brave and open the forbidden door, Ally's bedroom door.

Ally's bedroom is something, I don't know what that something is but it screams Ally. It's dishevelled yet bland, perfect for Ally I guess. Nothing but a set of drawers with half the handles missing, piles of dirty washing sitting in the corner of her room that will probably stay there for weeks, and a chipped dark wood bed. And then there's Ally, who is currently packing a bag.

'There is no business trip is there?' I asked even though I fine well knew the answer already. Throwing the last of her clothes in the bag, she stares me dead in the eye from her position at the bottom of her bed, 'I have to get out of here.'

Walking further into her room as she walks back to her drawers closing them loudly, 'Promise me one thing,' I asked looking out the window at the deserted street. Hearing no noise for behind me I continued, 'That we'll get to meet them one day,'

'I can't promise you that,' turning round to stare at her in confusion, 'what you're never coming back?' I asked softly shaking my head at the idea of her leave and never returning. Ally goes away a lot but she always comes back. We might not be as close as we use to be when I was younger but it's a comfort to know that she's here with us.

She just looked at me not speaking yet her glances spoke a thousand words. I didn't know silence could get any quieter but I was proven wrong in that moment. It was as though the whole world stopped spinning, it was like the world ended right and then. Shaking my head at my sister mentality, my heartbreaking even at the thought of what she wanted to do, 'Oh,' was the only response I muster up as I move to sit at the edge of the bed, my legs suddenly feeling like jello.

Rubbing my hands over my eyes and tugging at my hair, trying to get all my thoughts to settle down. The feel of a hand softly holding my shoulder caught my attention. Looking down at me was my sister, my big sister, that I wanted with every fibre of my being to be like when I grew up. But people change, and Ally surely did. That moment made me realise something, Ally never changed. No, she was always the same. It was me who changed, I was just too young to realise.

The day that Ally left, a part of myself left with her, and that necessarily wasn't a bad thing. No, she took the naive part with her. The sense that everything was okay now, that everything was perfect now because I had a family. Sometimes families go through rough patches and for some reason ours was never-ending.

Shaking my head, snapping myself out of my thoughts, focussing once more on my journey home. I love county lanes, there the best to drive on. You can go as fast as you want and when you go over a little hill you get those silly butterflies in the pit of your stomach. My family hates driving with me on these roads. Apparently I'm too careless when it comes to driving, I argue that I'm not careless I'm just used to acting like I'm in the Fast and Furious movies.

Speaking of radical driving, I hit the breaks slowly once I spot what's up ahead. A car parked sporadically in the middle of the lane, but that's not what's got me confused. There are people, a headcount of about ten, all banging their hands lazily on the windows of the car, smearing their faces over the glass.

Cutting the engine, leaning over to the car pocket reaching for my emergency gun, I slowly stalk my way out of the car. Holding the gun with both hands at the ground, the safety still on as I make my way closer but not too close.

"Hey, what are you guys doing, what's the problem-" my voice slowly losing its confidence as the figures around the car turn to face me and begin to walk drunkenly towards me. The noise they make doesn't sound too good, the air now filled with grunts and groans, the sounds of pain. I noticed a couple not paying me any mind, to busy eating something. Oh.

Realising exactly what I'm witnessing. Those are the sick people that has the world on edge. A group of them a coming right towards me. Raising my gun and flipping the safety off, I take aim, "Don't come any closer, I'll shoot," I announce not really wanting to have to shoot them. I might as well not have spoken, they just keep pushing, stumbling over one another as they inch closer.

Lining up, setting my sights on one, in particular, a middle-aged man, a civilian, I shoot one shot into his left leg. Nothing. A slight knockback at most but he's still alive. Trying again, I aim for his chest and the same happened again. Lastly shooting the head, that's what does it. He's down.

That one alone took up to much time, I have another 8 headed my way and I only have a limited amount of bullets. The odds were not in my favour, that much was clear. Making a dash for my car, hastily ripping my keys from my pocket. Silence.

"Come on don't fail me now!" I said through gritted teeth. Shoving the keys into the engine once more and twisting. Sounds of my struggle echo throughout the car as I feel the nonexistent sweat beginning to build as my breath becomes hot with frustration. Now as good a point as any to point out that I have 3 broken windows, no thanks to Cora. Not broken as in they don't go down, oh no, they don't go up. I mean how one single girl breaks 3 windows is beyond me. Honestly, it didn't bother me that much to begin with, it gives my car character. Right now though it's a different story.

If my internal panic with my car not starts wasn't enough, then maybe those things reaching their grimy hands in my car are. Before I knew it my car was surrounded by the creatures, some toppling over the bonnet of my car, others pushing their hands through my half-cracked down windows. I feel the lazy touch of the fingers brushing against my shoulders and hair causing my entire body to shiver.

"Please" I beg over the sounds of the deathly groans and screams. Turning the key again with my sweaty hands, my body shaking in fear of what's to come. As though Jumpstarted, my car roars to life. The sound of my own engine has never sounded so delightful and I should honestly appreciate it more.

Not caring for speed limits, I push the pedal to the metal. The shrieking of my tires scraping on the hard concrete leaving evidence of my wheels spinning. Pushing through the moss pit of things before my car wasn't as hard as it sounds, even though they look like dead weight, they are quite easy to redirect.

Speeding my car a distance away for the scene, next to the car they were previously attacking, before I slow to a stop again, looking in my rearview mirror. They're following me. Looking to my left, I see the beaten car. Curdling blood dripping from the passenger seat window with loose pieces of straggling hair stuck to the wing mirror. Leaning over slightly I see a few fingers laying on the ground. Holding back my gag, I look back up into the car, only to be met with a figure. A hard to distinguish figure. Completely devoured and unrecognisable. Those rabid animals shredded these poor souls face to shreds with any features now ruined.

Shaking my head at the sounds of the things coming closer to my car again, I slowing start moving, only to hit the breaks instantly as a thought came to my head. Looking in my rearview mirror again at the car, tears begin to build in my eyes. A mustard Ford Fiesta. That's the car. That's her car. My cheeks slightly soaked, my hands shaking once again as I roughly grab the roots of my hair. Having enough, I swat away the tears that are trailing down my cheeks, nose scrunched up as I try my hardest not to look back again. I didn't.

Driving down that road, the road that usually fills me with overwhelming joy, felt different this time around. It felt darker. The road that I knew ultimately leads me to home is beginning to feel like a drag. It's a road that I never want to drive down again because the only thought that I can think of now is: it's my fault.

[ahatintimestorybook]

AHIT Twin AU- Accident Memories

Here you guys go! More angst from Winter’s Twin AU!

Hope you guys didn’t wait too long for it. Busy with work and my other stories atm, but here is an angsty chapter to make up for it.

I had this chapter in mind for a while, but with the other ideas I had in mind I had to hold this off till I got done with the rest of the story. Speaking of Twin AU, I’m out of ideas atm so drabbles of the story are put on hold till I get an idea. I do have ideas, but it's just summaries, nothing on how the story will go whatsoever.

However, I’m  interested in Winter’s other AU’s and would write about that in the near future. Not sure which one I’ll write first.

Anyways I hope you enjoy it!! ^^

@winterpower98

Harriet and Bluebell woke up one morning and made their way towards the kitchen. However, they sensed something different about today. At the table Timmy was sitting down, while Cookie was cooking breakfast. However, two twin boys were missing at the table.

“Cookie, where’s Luka and MJ?” Bluebell asked.

Cookie was quiet as she continued to cook, but the girls saw a frown on the chef’s face. The kids looked at each other worried and confused over the cook’s expression,  “Cookie is everything alright?”

Cookie finally spoke, “Yeah. I’m okay. Just tired.” She lied. Cookie finally got the breakfast for the kids done: Just some waffles and scrambled eggs and handed it to the kids and one for herself. Harriet looked over the counter and saw two plates of food for MJ and Luka.

“Is that Luka and MJ’s breakfast?” Bluebell asked.

The cook sighed, “It is.” Cookie answered. “They're having breakfast in bed today.”

That’s a first to the kids. Usually, the twins would be up by now and enjoying breakfast with them. How come today the twins are eating breakfast in their rooms? “A-are they sick?” Bluebell asked.

Cookie sighed. “No they just slept in. They’ll come down soon.” The chef grabbed the plates and walked from the kitchen to Luka’s room. “Hopefully.” she whispered, so the kids wouldn’t hear. Once she made it to Luka’s room she knocked on the door.

“It's open.” Luka mumbled.

Cookie frowned and opened the door with her elbow, when she entered the room the curtains were still closed as Luka and MJ were on the ground looking at some old photos while Bush looked down at her owners in sadness. The little cat meowed at Cookie in sadness. “How are you two feeling?” Cookie asked.

The twins didn’t respond; they just looked at Cookie with tired eyes that were dried with tears. Cookie frowned and put their breakfast on the table. “I-I brought you two breakfast.” The twins still didn’t respond. Cookie sighed and sat down with the twins. “Look, I know it's hard for you two. Today is the day. That happened.”

“It's not fair Cookie.” MJ whimpered. “They should have still been alive. With us.” He choked. Bush frowned and went to MJ nuzzling his leg. The older twin turned to his pet cat and gave her pet seeing her trying to comfort him too.

Cookie frowned and sighed. She then turned to the door remembering the kids were downstairs eating breakfast and turned back to the twins. “You know the kids are worried about you two.” Cookie reminded them. “You should tell them.”

The twins looked at each other, completely forgetting their morning the anniversary of the twin’s parent's death with their adopted kids in the house. “We.” Luka spoke up. MJ and Cookie turned to the younger twin. “We shouldn’t. They should not know.”

“Luka.” Cookie whispered.

“At least not yet.” He continued.

Cookie frowned not agreeing with the idea one bit. “They need to know. You can’t keep it from them forever.” Cookie explained.

The twins frowned and looked at each other. They didn’t want to tell, but they should, at least to not worry the kids. “Well tell them later tonight. Just not right now.” Luka told the cook.

Cookie gave a small smile and hugged the twins. This gave the twins a small smile, as they hugged their older sister figure right back. “How about to cheer you guys up, I’ll bring home some pizza for dinner?” She insisted.

“That sounds nice.” Luka replied. Cookie gave a light chuckle and ruffled the younger twin’s hair, which then gave the latter a chuckle too.

Cookie then looked at the clock and saw she was going to be late at the studio. “I’ll be back home later tonight.” She told them before leaving the room, grabbing her stuff and leaving the house. “Bye kids!”

“Bye Cookie!” Bluebell shouted. Once Cookie was gone, the kids were able to focus on their plan. “Alright, Cookie is gone. Now we can focus on the plan at hand.” Bluebell whispered. Timmy and Harriet nodded in reply.

“What’s the plan?” Timmy asked.

“We need to find out why Luka and MJ aren’t feeling well and help them feel better.” Bluebell explained. She continued as she looked up to the hallway leading up to the twins rooms. “Cookie looked pretty sad, and that means Luka and MJ are sad too.”

Timmy finished the last bite of his breakfast and put his plate in the sink. “So what do you suggest we do? Give them a hug and talk to them?” He asked.

Bluebell opened her mouth, but heard the door open and close. Timmy went to clean his plate as Bluebell and Harriet went to finish their breakfast to try and make it look like they weren’t discussing anything. MJ and Luka came down, and the kid’s eyes widened seeing how the twins eye’s were red and puffy as well as dark circles on the bottom of their eyes.

“Luka, are you okay?” Bluebell asked.

“Y-yeah. Just a rough night.” Luka lied not looking up at his daughter. “MJ and I are going to take a walk, it won’t be long don’t worry we’ll be back soon.”

“Are you sure you're okay?” Harriet asked.

Luka looked at Harriet and gave her a small smile and went over to her and put his hands on her shoulder. Harriet frowned looking into Luka’s sad eyes,  “I’m fine.” He reassured her. Harriet gave Luka a tight hug, which surprised the young man but he needed a hug and hugged the young girl back. “I’m fine.” He repeated in a whisper. Luka let go of the hug as he and MJ went outside for their walk.

Once the twins left, the kids ran out of the kitchen and ran up to Luka’s room. Bush picked her head up and faced the kids. Bluebell sushed the cat, before speaking up. “Okay, lets search the room before Luka and Mj get back.” She told them. Bush mewled and walked over to a box scratching at it.

Bluebell looked at her sister and cousin, “I think Bush has found what we were looking for.” She exclaimed. She walked over to the cat and pulled out the box. “Thanks Bush.” Bluebell said petting the kitten, who purred in happiness. Harriet and Timmy went by Bluebell as she opened up the box to see some old photos, and two masks inside.

“Look at all this stuff!” Harriet commented. She grabbed out a photo and chuckled. The photo was of MJ and Luka with their arms around each other and their parents, Richard and Angela, right next to them. “Aww MJ and Luka looked so cute when they were our age, but who are those two?” She wondered.

“I think that’s MJ and Luka’s parents. Aka our grandparents.” Timmy answered.

Harriet looked at the photo of her grandparents as she found a few more of them in the box. One was a photo of Angela and Richard smiling together in a garden, the other was Angela and Richard holding three-year old MJ and Luka, and the last one was Richard and Angela along MJ and Luka alongside their parents and a blonde haired girl the kids didn’t recognize smiling and holding diplomas while the girl hugged Luka tight.

“I didn’t know how much Luka and MJ look like their father?” Bluebell noted “Think the two would grow a beard?”

Harriet scoffed, “Not Luka. I don’t see that man growing any facial hair.” She commented. “MJ would be freaky, since he dyed his hair blue and blue hair with a brown beard sounds interesting, unless he dyes it too.” The kids shared a laugh as the image of MJ with his blue hair and brown beard that turns blue played in their heads.

Timmy smiled as he looked at some more photos of his grandparents. “I wonder why MJ and Luka kept this from us?” He wondered.

As the kids kept looking, Bluebell spotted a newspaper at the bottom of the box and pulled it out. She paused as she looked at the headlines of the newspaper. “I think I know why.” She whispered. Harriet and Timmy looked over the newspaper and froze with what the article said.

LOCAL LAWYER AND HUSBAND, KILLED IN ACCIDENT Mystery Surrounds on how the accident happened

The kids read through the newspaper article and saw that MJ and Luka’s parents were killed in a car accident. The article read that the car’s breaks were broken and there was ice on the road that mysteriously appeared. Pictures showing how damaged the car was sent chills down the kids spines. Even Bush shivered at the photo.

“T-they d-died in a-an accident?” Bluebell questioned stuttering a bit. Bush walked over towards the girl and nuzzled her leg.

Timmy’s eyes widen at the date in the newspaper. “Look at the date!” Harriet and Bluebell looked at the date and saw that day was today.

“No wonder why they're sad.” Harriet said, frowning. Bush moved over to Harriet and nuzzled her leg. The kids went quiet understanding why the twins aren’t themselves.

The twins lost their parents.

The twins were orphans themselves, despite being old enough.

Which was worse as their entire lives with their parents were flushed away by some car accident.

The kids were so sad they didn’t hear the door opening and the twins were in shock seeing the kids going through their stuff.

“W-what are you kids doing?” MJ asked. The kids gasped and turned towards the twins. Bush gave a meow as she walked over to the twin boys like she was trying to tell them to calm down.

Soon Harriet and Bluebell dropped everything and ran up to the twins hugging them tightly, crying. “I’m sorry what happened to your parents.” Harriet cried.

“None of you shouldn’t have gone through with that.” Bluebell cried. Luka and MJ looked shocked and the girls. They looked at one another before hugging the girls back and comforting them. Timmy then walked over to the four and gave them a hug too.

After the embrace Luka and MJ took the photos and newspaper article from the kids and put it back in the box. “Why were you guys going through our stuff?” MJ asked.

“Well, you guys were sad and we just wanted to know why.” Bluebell explained. “W-we’re really sorry about your parents.” She repeated.

MJ and Luka sighed. “I guess we should tell them, little bro.” MJ whispered. Luka replied quietly with a nod. “Yes, something horrible happened to our parents, and it hurts us a lot. To this day.” MJ told the kids.

The kids frowned and so did Bush. “D-do you wonder how or who did this to them?” Timmy asked.

MJ glared. “I don’t know who? But, I do know it had to be a magic user. There was no way some stray black ice was on the road!” MJ spoke a bit louder. The kids stepped back seeing MJ angry. Luka looked at his older brother and was ready to hold him down, but MJ pushed him away as he continued his vent. “The snow melted days before and it wasn’t just ice cubes that fell out of a truc. It was a sheet of ice! A sheet of pecking ice!” He shouted, tears falling from his face.

Luke hugged his older twin brother tight as he sobbed over the death of their parents. “They should’ve never left! We should’ve stopped them or even drove them!” MJ cried, whimpering a bit. He kept repeating, “they should’ve never left” or “I wish they were still here.” as Luka rubbed his back.

As the kids stood frozen at MJ’s outburst, Timmy and Harriet looked at Luka and saw something in his eyes. It was almost like he might have a clue on who did this to their parents, but he didn’t want to say.

“I think we’ll leave you guys alone now.” Bluebell spoke up in a whisper. She took Harriet’s hand and led her and Timmy out of the room to leave the brothers alone. The kids went to the living room and sat there waiting for the twins to calm down. They could’ve watched tv or draw, but they weren’t in the mood to do so. They too were sad over the death of Luka and MJ’s parents even though they haven’t met them.

An hour or two, the kids lost track of time. MJ and Luka came out of the room and sat down with the kids. Harriet opened her mouth to say something, but nothing was coming out. It took a few tries, but she was able to speak, “A-are you okay, now?” She asked.

Luka sighed, “were fine. Just drained.” He replied. Harriet hugged Luka’s arm giving the younger twin a small smile.

“I can understand why this crushed you guys.” Bluebell spoke up. “Our parents left us, and Timmy never met his parents. You guys have known your parents your whole lives and you just lose them just like that.” She explained. “So sorry.”

MJ sighed. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t our fault either. We just…” MJ paused as he sighed, Bush mewled looking up at the older twin as she climbed into his lap and curled up. MJ gave a small smile and pet the little kitten.

“I don’t know if this will help, but you're not alone.” Harriet revealed. “You have each other, us, Cookie and for MJ Peony. So even if your mom and dad are gone, you have people who are still here for you.”

“Yeah.” Timmy spoke up. “If your parents were here, right now they probably don’t want you guys to be sad, they want you to remember them and tell us all the good memories you had. Sure it hurts, but they want you two to remember the good times.” He explained.

Bush smiled and looked up at the twins nodding her head. Luka and MJ looked at each other, giving a small smile. Harriet and Timmy were right, they were sad, yes, but Angela and Richard would’ve wanted them to still be happy no matter what.

“Thanks kids.” MJ whispered. Timmy and Bluebell smiled and hugged the older twin tight. Harriet and Luka looked at one another before doing the same thing. To the twins, this was the first anniversary of their parents death where they smiled.

Harriet looked at her sister and cousin with a smile. “You know, you two did stuff for us. Let us do something for you two.”

“Oh I forgot!” MJ exclaimed. “Cookie is bringing over some pizza for dinner tonight!” He reminded the kids.

Bluebell smiled coming up with an idea. “Hey think we can have pizza here and have a movie night?” She asked.

Luka chuckled. “Sure, MJ and I would do the same with mom and dad on Saturday nights.”

“Awesome!” The girls cheered. “Bow and I will find a movie, Timmy go get snacks, and MJ and Luka just sit down and relax.” The kids then split off to do everything for the twins, making them smile. Luka and MJ were happy they adopted these kids, because without them they probably would’ve still felt alone.

[dat-fandom-losertown]

The Drift Between Us

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Chapter 10: Adjustment Period

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Hank Anderson x Connor and Gavin Reed x RK900 (Ritch)

Pacific Rim AU

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 9,149

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Previous <> Masterlist <> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    Ritch awkwardly stands in front of Gavin’s door– and his too, at least for for now– with both of his duffle bags set on either side of him. Either Gavin isn’t letting him inside out of spite, which is completely plausible, or he’s not inside because he’s staying at lunch later than usual. Either way, he’s hoping Gavin opens the door before lunch officially ends. He’s not willing to leave his bags out in the hallway just to go get food and he’s getting pretty hungry after this morning’s fight and nerves.

    He looks down at the only watch he owns– a fancy one meant to be worn with suits during formal or semi-formal events– which is now on his wrist instead of put away like usual. There’s 20 minutes before lunch ends. Even if he left now, he’d have to eat faster than he’s used to if he wants to finish it before people are kicked out for cleaning purposes. Oh well, he’s missed more meals than he cares to count during his time with Amanda, and he’s definitely gone longer than this without food before. He’ll just eat dinner a bit earlier than usual to keep the hunger away.

    “Dick?”

    Ritch turns to Gavin and automatically corrects, “Ritchie, not Richard.”

    “Yea yea, whatever,” Gavin says, rolling his eyes and waving his hand in dismissal. “What the fuck are you doing just hanging around by my door like a stray cat or something?”

    “I was never given the code to the room.”

    “And you couldn’t’ve waited in your own room because...?” Gavin stops right in front of him, defiance in his eyes. Ritch is too mentally exhausted to deal with that right now.

    “Because technically starting this morning, this is my own room, unfortunately. Did you at least pick up any unmentionables?”

    Gavin barks out an unfriendly laugh and turns to the keypad. Ritch commits the code 4629 to memory, having a feeling that Gavin won’t actually give him the code just to make his life harder. Just because he’s able to break into bunkers doesn’t mean he wants to more than what’s absolutely necessary.

    “I told you I don’t keep that kind of shit in my room.” He opens the bunker door and lets them both inside before continuing. “Also, why the hell do you call it that?”

    “What do you mean?” Ritch asks as he finds a clear space on the floor to set his bags.

    “‘Unmentionables’. That makes it sound like you’re some kind of prude, or some good little boy who went to catholic school, I dunno. More likely a nun with that baby face and mean stare.”

    Ritch sighs and grumbles, “Where should I put my stuff.”

    He just wants to get out of here and head down to the training room to help out a few of the struggling students. He’s just too mentally exhausted after all that’s happened today to properly banter with Gavin right now, and he can tell that bantering is all that Gavin wants at the moment.

    Gavin’s face falls for a split second, but he’s back to his aggressive self before Ritch can even comprehend what it could mean.

    “Left side of everything– left side of the shelves, left drawers, left closet– and the bottom bunk.” Gavin glares at him with a challenge in his eyes. Ritch doesn’t fall for it because he has no need to argue. That’s the space he took up in his and Connor’s room, so there’s no issue.

    “Perfect.” he says sharply, “Thanks.”

    He sets his bags down in the middle of the room in preparation to unpack. He gets his studying books (will he even need these anymore?) and puts them on the empty side of the shelf above the metal desk, then pulls out his personal books to put on the shelf above the last.

    Most are mainly about the science of how jaegers can safely transfer memories from one person to another without messing either person up, but some are just basic psychology books. The way people think and handle things have fascinated him ever since he first realized how different he and Connor are despite having always spent almost every waking moment with each other, and thus being in the same situations.

    Part of him hopes that Connor will do well on his own for the foreseeable future, but another part worries that there will be some kind of issue that could have been prevented if Ritch was there to stop it. Yet another part secretly hopes Connor gets used to being alone quickly so he isn’t as dependent on other people. He has the skills and brains to make it on his own, he just needs to use them instead of panicking or shutting down all the time. Hand-holding and direct interfering has proven less than effective, so maybe a hands off approach will help Connor realize his potential.

    “Alright, ground rules,” Gavin suddenly snaps as Ritch finishes putting the last of his books up. “First off, do not keep me up at night or you’ll regret it the next morning. And don’t wake me up early unless it’s an emergency either! Secondly, I get the first shower because the hot water runs out quickly here for some reason and I will make your day hell if I have to take a fucking cold shower. Thirdly, don’t touch my stuff. I don’t fucking care if you’re an OCD freak or something and I’ve left a mess, do. Not. Touch them, or I will break your hand. Got it?”

    Ritch nods simply. “As long as you don’t touch my stuff either, then it’s understood. Also, you don’t have to worry about me taking any hot water. I take my showers in the evening, and I prefer them tepid rather than hot.”

    Ritch hears the strange offended and concerned sound Gavin makes and looks up from digging his two jaeger figurines out of his bags. He doesn’t say anything, opting to silently raise an eyebrow at the pilot when he doesn’t immediately start talking like he expected. It works.

    “Why the fuck do you take cold showers? Have you never felt the glory that is a steaming hot shower before? ‘Cause you told me you were kind of sheltered earlier, but that’s just sad.” Gavin finally asks with what Ritch would call a sarcastic frown.

    He looks back down to his bag in an attempt to hide the pained expression he’s undoubtedly making. He doesn’t like reminders of that unfortunate night– dream. Nightmare. Whatever his brain decides that particular event was at any given moment.

    “It’s not cold, just tepid. You have your reasons for hating cold water, I have my reasons for hating hot.”

    “What the fuck do you know?” Gavin abruptly snarls, sounding every bit like he’s willing to kill Ritch or someone else.

    The tone snaps Ritch to attention, but he catches himself and freezes when he take’s in Gavin’s stance. He’s tense in a way that’s more defensive rather than his usual offensive position, and his face reveals equal betrayal and pain as rage. It completely catches Ritch off guard, which explains why he says what he does without trying to hide anything for the first time in a very long while.

    “Why do you get to ask me why I hate hot showers when you want to bite my head off for just saying that you have random reasons for hating cold water. Why should I care why you like hot showers when I’m the outlier in this situation, not you?”

    Gavin doesn’t respond, he just keeps glaring at him as if that will make him confess knowing something he doesn’t.

    Does he have a particularly bad memory/dream/nightmare like Connor and I do? What am I thinking, of course he does. He’s an official jaeger pilot; he likely has plenty of bad memories and experiences to choose from, Ritch thinks, making a note to himself to not bring up cold water or temperatures around Gavin anymore.

    Gavin must have finally come to some kind of conclusion, because he takes a deep breath and refocuses on the jaeger model that’s still in Ritch’s hands.

    “I thought I told you to leave your robot porn back in your bunker?” he snaps. At least he sounds less like he’s actually going to murder Ritch any moment now.

    “Sorry to disappoint, but just because you undoubtedly have explicit content hiding somewhere in here doesn’t mean I have any. Why are you so obsessed on this topic, anyhow?” he says smoothly as he gets up and positions his little models on the shelf. Are the jaeger figurines actually bothering him and he’s using this to somewhat cover it up, or is this another layer of teasing? 

    People can be incredibly confusing. Especially if their name is Gavin Reed.

    “I’m not obsessed with this topic. I’m just noticing that you’re obsessed with jaegers.” Gavin somehow makes climbing onto the top bunk look as lazy as plopping down onto the bottom bunk would. “So I’m just making sure you aren’t gonna be doing anything weird when we’re gonna be forced to drift together later on. I ain’t partnering with a fuckin’ creep.”

    “Well, nor will I.” Ritch rolls his eyes as he turns to fully face Gavin. “Actually, because I want a topic change, here are my own ground rules.”

    “Uh-uh! You don’t get to–”

    “Rule one!” Ritch declares over him, “As I said before, you don’t get to touch my stuff either. I am very particular about where everything goes, and I am a very private person. Rule two, do not wake me up in the morning unless it is an emergency. I have alarms set on my phone– that I place under my pillow so only I can hear it.” he adds when Gavin opens his mouth to retort, “I will always be on time to wherever I or we need to be, so please do not mess with me while I’m sleeping.”

    Gavin, surprisingly, just shrugs and says, “Fair enough.” It gives Ritch enough confidence to continue.

    “Rule three–”

    “There’s fuckin’ more!?–”

    “–and the last one I can think of for now. I am very introverted. Sometimes I will want to be left alone just because I am not used to having to constantly entertain someone, so try to not pester me 24/7. Although, considering your first rule, I think we can come to an agreement there as well.”

    Gavin doesn’t say anything for a solid minute, just scowling at Ritch from the top bunk. Ritch doesn’t move or break eye contact either. He’s played this game many times with Amanda over the years; breaking now would only be admitting defeat and showing that he isn’t as tough and confident as he is. Breaking eye contact and/or relaxing his tall, solid stance is something Connor would do, and while that seems to work for his twin a lot of the time, Ritch is most definitely not that type of person. He gets his way through confidence and logic rather than constant encouragement and compromise.

    “Fine.” Gavin barks. “We have a fuckin’ deal. And apparently the first part of the damned ‘personal schedules’ we’re gonna have to make.”

    That throws Ritch off track. “Personal schedules?”

    Gavin snorts. “Yea. It’s all bullshit, but all new partners have to do it. I’ve had to do one, like, three or four times now. It’s boring and annoying as hell.” He flops back down on his bed, so Ritch grabs his bag of clothes and starts unpacking them while Gavin continues, “We’ll write down that before breakfast and anything past nine or so are solitary times for our sanity. God, fuck all of this. Seriously.”

    “Will therapy appointments and trainee assisting have to go on these personal schedules? And are we turning these in to someone, or are these for private use?” Ritch asks as he puts his small pile of shirts in the locker-closet.

    “Yes to your first question. And people use these schedules to make bonding time or scheduled training or some shit, so we gotta turn them in.” Ritch doesn’t need to turn to know he’s probably doing his ever-so-famous scowl and glare. This entire thing is already becoming exhausting and they haven’t even started yet.

    The next several minutes are thankfully spent in blissful silence. Ritch isn’t sure what Gavin is hiding up on his top bunk, but he never came down for paper or a writing utensil before presumably starting the schedule, so he must have things stashed up there like Connor stashes his own things. If he’s that serious about his own privacy, then he’ll hopefully take Ritch’s request for privacy more seriously than he originally thought.

    “Okay, so I got my part of this fuckery down. You just slap on your schedule on this blank paper, we’ll hand this over. They’ll do a personality thing within the next few days, and then we’ll be back on our own separate ways.”

    That makes Ritch perk up from shoving his bags under the bed.

    “Why would they separate us so quickly?” he asks as he watches Gavin gracefully jump off his top bunk, dropping two pieces of paper on the bottom bunk before striding to the door.

    “Because I’m Gavin mother-fuckin’ Reed, retch.” He opens the door and steps through, but he pauses long enough to grin smugly and add, “No one lasts long with me.”

    He shuts the door behind himself with a clang as if to emphasize his point. It leaves Ritch alone with the silence. He picks up the papers and sees that it’s much simpler than he thought. It’s just a normal chart that has 7 columns for each day of the week. Gavin wrote down his activities next to a rough time estimate of when the various things normally get done.

    Gavin’s schedule has several chunks of time dedicated to patrolling halls that are all listed as “duty” rather than “free time”. Ritch is surprised he wasn’t just roaming the halls with the sole purpose of finding a way to cause trouble, but it makes more sense how he always manages to randomly run into people and trouble and not get reported or something if that’s his job. He wonders if that would still be Gavin’s job if he became a full-time pilot rather than a back-up one that no one really likes.

    “No one lasts long with me” he said? Well, he hasn’t met Ritch when he’s determined to beat a challenge, and “Gavin mother-fuckin’ Reed” just issued one whether he meant to or not. Ritch smirks to himself as he fills out his own rather empty personal schedule, making a vow to himself to stick around the pilot like a stubborn mold just to spite him.

    Maybe this will be slightly more fun than he thought, after all. Only time will tell how exhausting it will be in the long run, though.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    Ritch heads to the training room after finishing up his schedule and leaving it on the desk for Gavin to see. He would have dropped it off himself, but Gavin never said where it needed to go during his dramatic exit, so he’ll just let him do it. It’ll be step one in training Gavin; if he doesn’t tell Ritch all of the information, then he’ll have no help finishing what needs to be done. Ritch just hopes that this is a lesson that’s learned quickly and easily because he doesn’t actually like the thought of passing work on to Gavin just because of lack of communication and information.

    He’s in the middle of weighing the pros and cons of finding Tina Chen and asking what things he should look out for or work on with Gavin when he hears North arguing about something down the hall. He has no clue what’s being said, but she must be complaining to someone else since she occasionally pauses before starting back up again. He finally gets an idea once he gets close to the training room’s entrance.

    “How am I supposed to pilot a jaeger without–”

    “You find someone new, just like Ritch and Connor are trying to.” Markus says, his tone implying that that was far from the first time he’s said that.

    “Technically, Ritch was given another partner this morning.” Ritch forces himself into the conversation, “Now, what is this about?”

    He uses a second to take in their surroundings to make sure they aren’t causing a scene but has to do a double-take. It usually takes more than expected to get him confused and shocked, but finding the room half-empty, despite it being the middle of a training session, sure did the trick.

    His emotions must be apparent on his face for once because Simon explains, “The purge happened this morning.”

    Ritch focuses his attention on Simon and ignores North as she starts loudly complaining again. Honestly, does she not understand that throwing a hissy fit won’t change anything?

    “The purge?” he asks when neither Markus or Simon elaborate.

    “Yea,” Markus nods tiredly, “Luther and Chloe kept several people behind after we left for lunch today, and Josh told us it was so they could let them go in relative privacy.”

    “Ritchie!–”

    “Ritch.” he corrects North sternly, but she ignores him.

    “You’re like the teacher’s pet, right?” She continues before he can give his input, “You gotta convince Luther that he’s making a mistake–”

    “But he isn’t.” he cuts in. “Josh is too much of a pacifist to make it as a jaeger pilot. Connor and I saw that on the very first day of training. But I think he’d be a fairly good fit for the science department, don’t you think?” He adds when North starts going red with whatever petulant emotion she’s feeling right now.

    Simon sounds genuinely intrigued when asking, “Science department?”

    “Well, he loves learning about things, and he’s quite smart and quick to pick up on things if the rate he was learning at during the study time of the day is normally how he is.” Markus and Simon nod, North continues pouting. “And he made friends with several people in the science department already, unless those people who brought the alcohol for that party thing were being bribed somehow.”

    North harrumphs. “I still need a partner, and there isn’t anyone left I like.”

    “Sometimes partnering with someone means you don’t like them at first.” Ritch feels like he’s talking to a child. It certainly shows that she’s always been the youngest of the group. “You just have to adapt and find someone you’re compatible with.” Even as he says this, Ritch doubts she’d be compatible with anyone else in the room. She’s just a little too… herself.

    “You literally can’t be compatible with someone if you don’t like them.” North crosses her arms.

    “Not necessarily.”

    “Yes! Absolutely necessarily!–”

    “No,” Ritch scolds her like a child or a pet, “You don’t. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have been told to pair up with Gavin Reed after we got caught fighting in the hallway.”

    With how wide the trio’s eyes get, Ritch is almost worried their eyeballs will fall right out of their sockets.

    “You seriously got a new partner?!” North exclaims just as Markus asks “You with Gavin Reed?”

    The combination of the two end up turning people’s heads, and Simon is doing nothing to de-escalate things like he would normally try to– he seems too in shock to do much else beyond gaping at him– so Ritch tries his best to explain calmly and quietly. He knows it’s more likely to rile them up, but this group has surprised him many times before. He’s hoping they surprise him again because he really doesn’t want to be known as “the trainee stuck with Gavin Reed” by everyone, especially since Gavin is very obviously not the kind of person who like~ to have a lot of attention on him. He just seems like a chaotic mess and chaotic messes usually get attention, whether it’s wanted or not.

    “This morning, Gavin and I were doing something, but we ended up… disagreeing is a good way of putting it, and it escalated into an actual fight. Marshal Fowler apparently saw it on security cameras and personally came to pick us up and tell us that our punishment is becoming partners.”

    The three gape at him for a couple of seconds before Markus asks, “They can do that? They partnered you up with someone you hate?”

    Ritch scans the room again before answering, just to make sure no one is really eavesdropping anymore. Thankfully, people have mostly turned back to whatever they were doing or talking about before. Ritch nods to where the punching bags are and starts walking towards them so the four of them aren’t right in the entryway.

    “To be fair, we do have an unusual level of compatibility when it comes to combat, and I don’t actually hate him.” He sits down on the ground and watches North as she starts wrapping her hands. “I’d almost say that I don’t particularly dislike Gavin, since I tend to disregard any rumors I hear about him. So far only a couple have been true; his love for fighting and being annoying and his habit of roaming around. And there are a lot of people who do those same things.”

    Simon finally snaps out of his shocked silence. “Wait, what? Haven’t you complained about him picking on you at lunch a couple of times?” Markus nods in agreement.

    Ritch shakes his head, slightly curious and confused. “No, I wasn’t complaining, exactly. It was just different. I poke at him as much as he pokes at me– or as I think he’s called it before– I give as good as I get.”

    North sputters out a laugh that causes Simon and Markus to glare, but Ritch doesn’t understand.

    “Just ignore her,” Markus says before Ritch can ask, “She’s always got her mind in the gutter.”

    Ritch tilts his head curiously. “That’s an inappropriate phrase?”

    Simon looks at him kindly. He’s definitely been the one who helps him the most when it comes to not understanding things, and he appreciates it.

    “It can be for certain people in certain situations. There’s nothing wrong with the way you used it and it makes perfect sense. North is just being an idiot child right now without Josh to balance her out.”

    Ritch nods in acknowledgement and understanding, making a mental note of what he’s learned about the phrase like he normally does with new slang. Maybe Connor had the right idea after all; a journal could be good for remembering everything. The human mind can only do and hold so much, after all.

    “So,” Markus starts, “What does being partners with Gavin Reed entail, then?”

    “So far just alone time in the mornings and nighttime for our sanity. He said we’ll probably be assigned daily bonding or training exercises because we both have large chunks of the day where we don’t do much.”

    North pauses her punching long enough to ask, “So, what are some juicy details?”

    “What do you mean?” Ritch does not like where this is going.

    “Like, what does his room look like? What kind of things does he have for fun.”

    If this is what North is always like without Josh, she won’t last much longer than a week. He just shakes his head with a sigh.

    “That is private information, and I wouldn’t know anyway. Unlike some people,” he sends her a pointed glare, "I actually respect people’s privacy, and he’ll respect mine.”

    “Are you sure about that?” she insists. “You won’t even peek at his stuff when he looks through yours?”

    “If he does– and I don’t think he will,” he corrects irritably while getting up, “why would I look through his things when it’d be easier and less uncomfortable for me to just ask to be removed from the room on an account of purposeful neglection of privacy.” He turns and starts walking away.

    “Ohhh, you’re leaving? It’s just a coincidence that you’re leaving while on this topic? You sure you’re not going to go check right now?”

    Ritch spins to face her so she can get the full extent of his unimpressed glare. It usually works on Connor, and while it seems ineffective on North, she definitely isn’t immune. If she was, he doesn’t know what he’d do to actually get her attention and let her know that he is absolutely done with her for the time being. He almost hopes she gets sent home or told off by Luther as some kind of wake up call for being a complete child right now.

    “I’m leaving because you’re being a nosey, whiny asshole because the partner you were barely compatible with was saved from having his mental health take a huge decline from the violence that a jaeger pilot’s life is filled with.” He sharply turns back towards the entryway of the training room. “Not everything is about you, and not everyone has the same views or values as you. That is what you need to learn before you’re even close to ready for finding a new partner, because I promise you that the people in here won’t be nearly as accommodating as Josh was.”

    He hears no arguments as he walks out of the room, so he’ll take the liberty to assume that Simon and Markus are silently agreeing with him, and that North is going to check herself at least for today, if not for the next several days. He’s unfortunately not naive enough to think it will last to the end of the week, though.

    Just as he steps out of the room, he almost physically runs into Gavin, who’s standing right out of sight from the people inside. Instead of stopping there and revealing Gavin’s poor hiding place, he casually walks past and stops when he, too, is out of sight from the room of trainees. Gavin watches him silently as he does this, then surprises him by not saying anything when Ritch leans against the wall right next to him. That normally gets Gavin at least glaring at him to leave his space, like he did this morning.

    “You know,” he murmurs, not wanting the trainees to hear him, “you could at least let people know that your job is to patrol the area. Less people would think you’re just looking for trouble all the time.”

    Gavin’s face remains relatively blank as he deadpans, “Where’s the fun in that?”

    “Less fun, true, but also less reports on Gavin Reed trying to start trouble, which means less things added to your apparently huge disciplinary folder? Wouldn’t that be worth it?”

    Gavin scoffs, then goes quiet. Ritch starts worrying. So far, he’s learned that Gavin isn’t one to stay quiet for long, but Ritch is also the very last person who should do anything relating to emotions. He’s surprised when Gavin starts explaining himself– Gavin Reed from the countless rumors he hears doesn’t like explaining himself to anyone but the marshal.

    “The official patrolling thing is a brand new excuse for me wandering around all day, but Luther’s always told me when he’s gonna start telling the failed trainees to go home so I can hover around and control any potential fights between punks who are upset that their partners and friends had to leave.” He turns to Ritch with a contemplative look on his face. “You ever think of picking up patrolling after people finally wake up and realize that we’re not gonna work as a pair?”

    “No, because I’d work better with jaegers than with the people. You know I’m not good with people or their emotions, or did you forget that I’m two steps away from being a robot?” he teases. He turns to leave then, not knowing what’s wrong with Gavin right now, but not wanting to accidentally push buttons.

    He stops and turns, however, when the pilot makes some kind of choked noise.

    Gavin huffs and glares at the far wall. “So why didn’t you tell her what my room is like, Mr. ‘this is now technically my room too’? It’s not like there was anything weird in there.”

    “If you heard that, then you heard my reasoning. Besides, with how much you’ve stalked me over the past couple of weeks, you should know by now that I hate drama and gossip.”

    Ritch turns and walks away, not having a real plan of where he’s going. If he knew where to turn in their personal schedules, he’d probably go do that, but he’s already far enough away that he can’t just ask Gavin over his shoulder without alerting everyone inside, and he’s not willing to turn and walk back to him just to ask a question as simple as that. One of them will take care of it later.

    He suddenly remembers Josh, how he’s the one who was told he wasn’t fit for piloting a jaeger. Even though Josh has told him multiple times that he was only doing it for North, that he wanted to be a teacher or something in the learning or education field, it probably still hits that he’s been let go rather than quitting on his own like he was contemplating doing. Although, at least this way North’s petty anger will be aimed at people she can’t touch and not at someone she can seriously damage emotionally, if not physically.

    With those thoughts in mind, he heads to Josh’s bunker to talk to him about maybe joining the science department, even if it’s just as an apprentice or intern or something. He figures with the multiple friends he has there and his obvious interest in the subject that it should be obvious, but it’s been proven time and time again that human brains just aren’t reliable. Maybe North will be less irritated and Markus and Simon won’t be quite as forlorn if he’s still nearby. 

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    Gavin doesn’t know how to feel about Ritch anymore.

    At first, he was just some challenge, a robot he wanted to push and break until he showed some kind of reaction. Then the robot starts pushing and poking back, and they get into a surprisingly enjoyable rhythm. Then he’s suddenly perfectly fine with breaking the rules, even though that seems like it’d go against what Gavin knows of his personality. Then come to find out that he can fight damn well too. Then he’s only mother-fucking 23 years old and he honestly can’t tell if he was exaggerating about the “training everyday since 11 years old” thing or not. 

    Gavin’s used to a neglectful household, between his emotionally absent father and his mother who was so stressed she eventually just upped and left, then his step-mother who was more interested in the money and protection that his father’s job and location offered than the family. He grew up being the older brother who went to work right out of high school despite his father’s wealth because his parents seemed to forget that he and his brother even existed until they did something wrong.

    But training for something as serious and violent as jaeger piloting since 11? As much as Gavin would like to think that it was mostly play until tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum turned 18, Ritch’s level of skill and strength and just the way he carries himself can’t be learned and formed in just four or five years of adulthood. That, and Anderson wouldn’t voluntarily keep Connor around him if that twin was like the other trainees, so it’s not just Ritch.

    It also has come to his attention earlier that the reason why “Stern” sounded so familiar was because of the ever-so-famous Amanda Stern. Gavin doesn’t know much about her, but he does know that she’d probably be determined and crazy enough to adopt children in order to create perfect soldiers. She practically did it with Anderson from what he heard from the man before he became a low-life. Plucked him off the streets at the ripe age of 17, if he remembers correctly.

    Gavin isn’t going to get into that mess whatsoever, though. Ritch very obviously doesn’t see too many issues with how he was raised, and he certainly wasn’t sheltered to the point of living completely under a rock with how many references he’s able to make and understand without stuttering. So no, Gavin isn’t going to touch any of this with a ten foot pole, but he’s also curious of whether or not Ritch is just a really good actor, if he’s got some kind of stockholm syndrome, or if living with and being trained by Amanda fucking Stern instead of going to a public middle and high school wasn’t actually as bad as Gavin’s gut is trying to tell him it would be.

    The problem is, Gavin’s gut has rarely been wrong. Having good gut feelings and instincts is kind of a part of the job as a jaeger pilot. He hasn’t met a successful pilot that didn’t have a good instinct they listened to.

    He pushes himself off of the wall once it becomes obvious that none of the kids inside aren’t going to start a fight based on nothing but mutual anger for having partners and friends being let go. And isn’t that kind of weird, the fact he can easily call everyone in that room children when his partner is at least 3 years younger than the youngest person in there, but he also acts the least childish out of all of them. It almost makes Gavin curious of what kinds of things Ritch has seen and experienced to make him the way he is. What a fucking anamoly.

    When Gavin just turned 23, he was signing up to be a jaeger pilot for the first of two times after getting kicked out of his shitty apartment. He was starting to look for another construction job since they were plenty, but his history of violence wasn’t doing him favors.

    He still remembers the day he got a letter back saying they looked up surveillance videos of a few of the fights he’d picked once they got his second letter– probably because, as he now knows, people rarely try twice without sounding entitled and/or stupid– and decided that they’d take a chance on him, but to not get his hopes up. He remembers being overwhelmed in the best way possible when he and sweet, joyful Ty were finally added onto the “main pilots” list.

    He also remembers the first time he tried to enter the drift with someone after Ty. He remembers staring at himself in the mirror after washing his face with an expression almost identical to the one Ritch had while processing the fact they could be compatible. He remembers the day he found a way to keep his memories and experiences away from the drift.

    Gavin isn’t going to get nosey with this one, but it can’t hurt to stay observant. After all, he’s got a long history of winning fights against abusers of all sorts, and he doubts one old woman would be able to best him, even if it’s Amanda Stern. 

    He shakes his head to get rid of those types of thoughts and tries not to freak out about how protective they sounded even in his own head. He can’t exactly blame himself, though. Once a protective older brother, always a protective asshole who loves to start and finish other people’s fights. He’s done the same thing for Tina and her relatively new partner, so he’s not too terribly surprised to see that it’s starting to happen with the literal only other person he sees regularly. It doesn’t mean he has to like it, though.

    He raises a hand to knock on Tina’s door and freezes. He doesn’t remember actually coming here and he doesn’t know why he’d want Tina, anyway, She can be insufferable with certain topics and this would certainly be one of them. He can already imagine her teasing about how she knew Ritch would be his new “boy toy” and hear her start making innuendos when he really, really doesn’t want to hear any of it today. Ty is too fresh in his mind, the fact that he can think his name instead of his “past partner” or just “him” proves it.

    Besides, now that patrolling is his actual job around here, he probably shouldn’t start skipping out. He may be irresponsible sometimes, but he tries to not be a total jackass about it. Skipping patrol as soon as it becomes his actual job– as opposed to something that he did because he’s a nosey shit and it also kind of annoyed people– would be an absolute asshole thing to do. With that in mind, he backs away from the door and strolls away with the intention to roam around like he usually does. However, he only makes it 3 steps before he spots his own door, which somehow reminds him of the personal schedules he and Ritch have to come up with.

    Gavin idly wonders if Ritch already finished his before setting off to wherever he was obviously itching to go. He certainly seems like the type to get things done immediately rather than putting them off, but he’s also surprised Gavin before in the past. 

    Before he even realizes it, Gavin’s opening his door and stepping inside. Right on the desk are two papers, one that he immediately knows is his own schedule. He strolls over and picks them both up, and takes them with him when he sees the “Signature of Completion” bullshit at the bottom. It stands out compared to the relative emptiness of the rest of the page. There are chunks of time dedicated to meals, and Ritch apparently likes going to help the rest of the trainees with physical training every morning, and has a note at the bottom noting a reserved time for “possible therapy, frequencies and assigned time unknown”. He must be therapist-hopping right now.

    Gavin doesn’t feel bad at all snooping through the schedule. If the higher-ups around here are gonna try to force a partnership on them, then he’s gonna find this shit out anyway. Even if that weren’t the case, it’s not like he’d see anything here that he hasn’t experienced or witnessed before. Therapy is something that is mandated for quite a few people around here, and is voluntarily sought after by others. It’s not anything to be shy about, and Ritch obviously agrees considering one of the first things he asked about these damn schedules was whether or not he’d have to add the sessions in.

    It’s an easy trip of carefully not thinking about anything and letting his mind be distracted by Ritch while not letting it focus too hard on him either. Well, maybe easy isn’t quite the word he’s looking for. It’s a simple walk without any interruptions, but complicated and kind of difficult to keep his head in check. He doesn’t even notice he’s in the office to drop off the schedules until a woman tries to take them out of his hands.

    Noticing her nervous look, he just apologizes, hands her the papers, and walks away. He doesn’t even have the energy to try to come up with something he’d normally say and do. He just wants Ritch out of Ty’s space. He wants Ty out of his own mind. He wants Ty back, but knows that’s impossible.

    He’d probably be over his old partner if they weren’t in the drift together when he was ripped out of the jaeger. He wouldn’t have felt most of the things he did. He may have even been able to say that it was always a possibility for any of them to die, and it was unfortunately him out of everyone else. 

    God fucking damn it. He’s gonna need to set up an emergency therapy appointment, isn’t he? God fuck it, Marshal Fowler should have probably talked to his therapist and whoever the fuck else before doing this. Gavin was actually starting to do better, if he does say so himself.

    At least Ritch seems like the type of guy who will leave him the fuck alone and won’t mess with his shit. He even put the morning and nighttime alone-times on his own schedule even though Gavin was half joking. Not to mention Ritch is the first person since Tina who teases him back just as much as Gavin teases while still knowing when it’s time to cut that out and be serious.

    Mother fucking fuck. He’s done thinking about this. He needs a distraction. Now.

    Gavin heads to the gym, hoping to work out any nervous energy he suddenly has now that the melancholy seems to have passed. He’ll set up that appointment tomorrow after he’s had some sleep. Besides, he wants at least some information on what kind of roommate Ritch is before he goes off to start complaining to the girl who loves to gossip. Going in without a plan is exactly what’s going to get the two of them stuck together permanently. That is, if their “natural compatibility” doesn’t start fucking up any time soon instead.

    It’s almost fucked up how this entire situation simultaneously feels like purgatory for being an asshole forever and a potential second chance. Whatever, Gavin’s just going to roll with it like he always does and hope things go back to normal soon enough.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

    Dinner finds Ritch sitting on the ground against the wall, feeling pitiful as he eats his very Americanized nachos.

    He tried sitting with his Markus, Simon, Josh, and North for all of a couple minutes before North drove Josh away while he was trying to explain the plan he and Ritch made to get him into the science department. Markus then told North off, who started snapping at Ritch for whatever damned reason. At that point it was either force himself to walk away calmly or cuff her upside the head, which would have led to her starting a fight he would have finished in seconds at the cost of disciplinary action against him.

    So he walked away, even if it took every ounce of his self-control to not grab her hand and sweep her feet out from under her when she tried to escalate things into a fight anyway.

    She’s turning into a new, whiny version of Alex and Ritch will not put up with any of it. If she doesn’t quit within the next couple of days, he’s going to have to bring this to Luther’s attention, because, according to Simon and Markus, she does not get nearly this bad during training. He just wishes he didn’t have to. He considered her a friend before, but now he’s not so sure he could handle any more unpredictability in his life. He has enough of it already with Gavin, and even then, he at least doesn’t antagonize for the sake of it. If he’s anything like Ritch, then he gets some kind of emotional release out of being a relatively unpredictable asshole.

    “What the hell are you doing here, vomit?”

    Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

    “I might ask the same question, book.”

    “Book?” Gavin asks with palpable confusion.

    “Vomit?” Ritch asks back almost mockingly. He figures Gavin’s most recent favorite nickname, Retch, went a little further and turned to vomit. “Look, if you want to sit, I’d suggest you do it. I’m not in the mood to play our usual games and, quite frankly, I’m hiding from someone.”

    Gavin’s eyes widen in visible surprise, but he takes a step forward and drops down to the floor. “You? Hiding someone? Why would the ‘top of the class’–” he makes air quotes “–need to avoid someone?”

    Ritch decides to be bluntfully honest. “To keep me from smacking them upside their whiny little head and getting me in trouble. Why would the man who’s known to love fights be hiding from someone?”

    “I never said I was playing coward, ass.” Gavin huffs irritably.

    “Then why aren’t you with Tina Chen like you always are?” he asks after finishing his bite of food.

    There’s a minute that passes where neither of them say anything to each other, but the ambient sounds of the food court keep things from going silent. Ritch hears Gavin muttering to himself, but he easily blocks that out because Connor does the exact same thing. He sometimes wonders if it helps people like them process and retain information or if it’s just a habit. Ritch certainly can’t force himself to speak when not necessary, and Amanda hadn’t ever said anything about him muttering like she had with Connor.

    “Tina Chen is a gossip at heart and loves making a big deal out of little things.”

    Ritch huffs. “I dislike people like that.”

    Ritch sees Gavin scowl and open his mouth to speak out of the corner of his eye. He never does say anything, though, he just closes his mouth and huffs in an irritable way.

    Neither one of them spend very long eating, and neither one of them say a single thing for the rest of their dinner. Ritch stands up to put his stuff away first, but he spots Gavin finishing and getting up as he walks out of the food court area.

    They say nothing to each other even though Gavin’s natural walking pace is a tad faster than Ritch’s, so they end up walking beside each other for a while. They don’t say anything while cooling down after dinner, and Ritch stays silent when Gavin calls his therapist on his radio thing and asks him for a “rant session” that evening. Gavin stays quiet and reads whatever book he has on his top bunk while Ritch gets himself together for his therapist trial.

    Gavin isn’t there when he returns, and Ritch is somewhat thankful for it. He actually likes this therapist, especially compared to the first one he visited, so he managed to gather the courage by the end of the session to mention keeping a journal to remember things. She said that keeping notes is a great way to keep track of things in a new environment and vent about anything he doesn’t feel comfortable telling other people. That, and more than plenty of people keep notes just for the sake of having reminders of events and other things, so they’re not just used for studying or therapy.

    Just a couple minutes after Ritch makes his charts on different people and a few lists of words and phrases and what they mean to most people, Gavin walks in. He immediately grabs some pajamas out of his locker with tense shoulders and jerky movements then goes inside the bathroom. Ritch decides to ignore as much as he can by reading a book that Josh recommended, since he may be leaving soon and will need it back. Gavin comes back out several minutes later, pauses to look around at who knows what, then settles his hands on his hips with a sharp sigh.

    Ritch tears his eyes away from the surprisingly good fiction novel in order to glance at Gavin. The pilot must take that as acknowledgement enough because he starts speaking.

    “So, my therapist had an idea I’d like to try, for once,” he declares.

    Ritch raises an eyebrow. “I’ve heard you’re supposed to listen to your therapist’s advice.”

    “Yeah, well, they’re not the fuckin’ know all be all of any of our lives, y’know?”

    Ritch emphatically does not know– he doesn’t quite understand what that phrase means– but he nods along anyway.

    “So anyway, I’m sure you’ve heard about how I used to have a partner.” Gavin sounds like he’s going to continue, but he doesn’t.

    Ritch hesitantly shakes his head. “I haven’t, but it makes sense since you’re in a two-person room rather than a single-person back-up room.”

    Ritch decides that he doesn’t need to know why said partner isn’t with him anymore. They either quit and left Gavin behind or they died, both of which are cases that need a lot more delicacy than Ritch has in order to handle and navigate without ruining what little truce they have right now.

    Gavin’s face scrunches up in confusion for what seems like less than a moment before he smiles sarcastically and claps his hands together.

    “Well then! Yes, I used to have a partner, and all of his stuff went where all of your shit is.” Gavin starts pacing. “And you see, I’ve always fucking hated all of my partners for valid fuckin’ reasons, right? And my therapist was always like, ‘you like who you like, and you can’t pilot with someone you hate’ yadda yadda yadda. So imagine my surprise when I come to him to complain about you, he stops me and tells me that I’m just afraid of replacing my old partner, right?” Gavin, once again, sounds like he’s just going to continue, but stops for whatever reason.

    Ritch nods slowly once more. “That’s an understandable feeling to have,” he says in a carefully neutral tone.

    “Yeah, sure, but it shook me up because that’s the first time he’s said something like this, right? So, turns out, my fucking therapist was on board with us pairing up and cleared it before we even knew it was our punishment. Like, what the fuck?”

    Ritch has no clue what’s happening, but he figures that if this is what’s going to keep Gavin from trying to fight him and their superiors every step of the way of whatever is happening anymore, then he’ll do what he does second best and sit silently. It’s not like Gavin ranting at him is going to do any damage as far as he can tell, even Ritch doesn’t understand why he would ever want to come to him with these types of issues.

    “So he’s goin’ on about his therapist thing that he’s paid to do, and he says that I’m gonna put up with your ass for a whole two weeks before we can request to split! All because he thinks our banter was a sign of some shit and our fighting styles are super compatible!”

    “They are,” Ritch interjects cautiously. “Compatible, I mean. I was taught to be able to tell in the event that something happened to Connor and I had to find someone else to pilot with.”

    Gavin blinks hard, then blinks a couple more times before shaking his head.

    “Your– You know what? I don’t have time to deal with your shit right now.” he replies combatively, tensing up as if preparing for a fight. Ritch holds back a sigh.

    “I… didn’t want to start anything? I was just listing facts. You mentioned that your therapist had an idea you wanted to try earlier? I assume it involves me– and I mean this in a kind way– or else you wouldn’t be venting to me, of all people.”

    Gavin goes blank and blinks once more, then snaps his fingers with a, “That’s right! Listen, we’re gonna switch our stuff around.”

    Ritch, as used to Connor’s random bullshit as he was, does not understand where the connection in any of this is. He just wants to read his book and get some good sleep before helping the angsty trainees tomorrow morning.

    Gavin huffs. “Look, He said it’s like I’m finding reasons to hate people because they’re replacing my old partner, right?”

    Oh. I think I understand now. I’m fairly sure I’ve read about this somewhere…

    “But I’m not replacing them. I’m someone else entirely, so you want to switch our stuff around so it’s not like I’m taking over his old space and replacing them further, but more like you’re keeping his old place and his memories safe, then I’ll be in your place where you aren’t as emotionally attached? Is that about the idea of it?”

    He meets Gavin’s wide eyes. This is probably the most genuine surprise and confusion he’s seen from him.

    “Uh, yeah. Kinda. How did you?”

    “I read psychology books in my spare time.” Ritch stands and looks away. If Gavin is going to offer something private information like that, then Ritch will return the favor. “People have always confused me, so I tried using psychology to learn about them more. Then I got more interested in how different kinds of people react in different ways when I realized how different Connor and I are from each other, despite being identical twins who grew up in the same conditions.”

    “But your eyes are blue.” Gavin blurts. Ritch is about to turn that question down when Gavin waves his hands dismissively. “Y’know what? I don’t actually care. I just want to move our stuff around so maybe my brain’ll stop fuckin’ me over. It’s been less than one god damned day and I’m already sick and tired of this shit. Two fucking weeks…” Gavin adds under his breath, but Ritch still catches it.

    Ritch nods in acknowledgement and moves to start taking things off the shelves. It may be a bit of an adjustment, getting used to his stuff being on the opposite side of where he’s used to reaching, but it shouldn’t be too bad.

    Gavin quietly follows after, sliding his stuff over to the other side of the shelf rather than actually picking things up and moving them. The silence continues after that. They don’t say a word to each other while moving things around, and really that may be a testimony to how compatible they are. Ritch moves some of his stuff when he notices Gavin preparing to move some of his own things in that spot, and Gavin follows him over to a new area of the room when he finishes a spot.

    Three mostly-silent hours later, the room has been readjusted and Ritch is clean and is climbing into bed to finally sleep. He’s out like a light just as he notices that Gavin is still on the top bunk even after everything else is switched. He’ll leave it alone; he really doesn’t want to have to climb up to the top bunk with injuries or during late nights, after all.

    Ritch wakes up the next morning to a note on his pillow and can’t help but smirk a little. “You won’t catch me dead on the bottom bunk. Have fun listening to creaking, whacking your head, and being closer to the bugs and shit down there.” It’s good to know they’ll agree to disagree on which bunk is best, at least.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Previous <> Masterlist <> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A/N: Heyo! Sorry for the slow update, life irl got busy, and I’ve rewritten this chapter a couple of times. I don’t know why I feel like I can never get Gavin quite right? But hopefully that problem is solved once Ritch and Gavin get used to each other and fall into a groove I have planned for them Lol.

Thank you all for sticking around all this time, I really appreciate it! I don’t really have much else to say besides get ready for some Connor POV and a possible, short time skip next chapter. I hope you guys have a good day/night! 😄💕💖

[cncofantasias]

Justice - Christopher Velez:

Chapter 3: Tainted

Summary: You’ve dated your boyfriend Christopher Velez for 2 years and even now that you guys have been together for so long, there was still so much stuff Christopher refused to tell you. That is until Christopher gets arrested for the murder of a man named Zabdiel de Jesus. As the trial against Christopher goes on you learn things about him that you never thought he was capable of. Y/n is fighting between the Christopher who was her loving and adoring boyfriend and the man who’s committed so many awful crimes.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

-

The summer of 2017 was that of one that made me believe I could have it all.

The summer of 2017, as I remember it, was the time in my life where the feeling of being completely & utterly content with the way my life was going... washed over me.

Although I’d struggled living in a studio that had the toilet practically attached to the kitchen, a studio that didn’t just have one lock but 4. I was doing it and that was what made me proud despite my circumstance.

I was a 20 year old adult living by myself , driving my own run down car, and working a job that although wasn’t the best, nor the easiest; but it paid the bills.

Most people had moved out of their parents house by the time they turned 18 or by the time they graduated. I didn’t exactly have that luxury because most of my life consisted of taking care of my parents. Not the other way around as it should be. Meeting Christopher that summer wasn’t what changed my summer into being the best summer I’d ever had. I wasn’t the kind of girl to swoon over a guy, in fact I rejected Christopher plenty of times before deciding to give him a chance.

In my 20 year old mind, I was rebelling against love because I refused to let any man into my life until I was certain of who I was and until I took care of my education, my career first. I didn’t want any man coming into my life and shifting my focus from my ambitions to be all about them. I refused to live that life; I’d seen it one too many times in my friends and my own family.

However, despite being this independent don’t need anybody kind of woman, I remember it was the beginning of July in 2017 when I’d decided to go out to an early Fourth of July party at my friend’s house. I’ve always been an antisocial, keep to myself sort of girl but since I was 20 at the time I wanted to experience, even a small grain of salt, of that highly talked about roaring party girl twenties.

•••

“Some of it is ugly, was any of it real? Is every memory I hold of you, every part of you that I thought I knew going to be tainted with the truth?”

There weren’t many times when I’d see her like this. She was a confident, ‘I’m fake fine’ kind of woman and to know that she’d now began doubting todos los mementos que teníamos juntos (all the moments we’ve had together). It hurt my heart.

“I guess that’ll be up to you to decide bebe.”

Her silence filled the air, she didn’t have to speak because I’d known her like the back of my palm by this point. She had nothing to left to say because she was too busy thinking; which was usually how our conversations would go, and even our arguments. She was a thinker, an analyzer before she was a conversationalist.

“I remember when I first saw you at that 4th of July party. I kept looking at you and wondering how I was ever going to go up to a girl like you and not embarrass myself to the point of no return. I remember mentally preparing myself to go up to you and just when I felt like I was ready to at least introduce myself to you-“ I chuckled to myself a coy smile playing on my face. I was slightly flustered to ever truly to admit to Y/N, the love of my life, that when it came to her, I was a lost puppy. When it came to her all my player moves and cheekiness was an act that fell away and got lost. She’d made me so infatuated with her that I was intimidated to talk to her.

“I remember I was walking up to you like in one of those romantic movies you always like to watch; and as soon as I got up to you I forgot everything I was gonna say.” A small smile grew on her lips thinking of the moment.

“And you just stood there staring at me with your hands in your pockets. I remember thinking what is this guys problem,” we both laughed at this, the tension broken over our fond little remembrance.

“Till finally I said, h-h-hi my name is Christopher,” I stuttered the same way I did back then in that moment just to see if I could get another crack of a smile out of her and perhaps even a giggle. Fortunately, for my own pride, it worked.

“And I don’t know how but I somehow managed to find my charm again to talk to you for the rest of the night.”

“That’s not how I remember it my love.”

I couldn’t help but admire her, her little smirk played on her face. It was like the Y/N I’d known before all of this happened, and for a minute I think we both forgot the real reason we were sitting here in our house at the coffee table trenching up the past. I wanted her to remember the good parts first before I told her the next part that I was sure would leave her in disappointment.

“Oh yeah, how do you remember it then bebe?”

“It wasn’t exactly charm that you were laying on.”

“But in the end of everything, it worked didn’t it bebe. I got the girl I wanted to begin with.”

“Only because you were persistent. I remember at the end of the night you asked me for my number. I told you I don’t give my number out—“

“So I told you that I’d settle for Snapchat-“

“Or instagram”

“Or even a twitter or an email if thats what it took”

“And I still told you that I wasn’t looking for anybody nor anybody that said they wanted to be friends but then persisted at a dating relationship.”

“I remember laughing so hard when you told me that, I felt like I’d been caught in my own lie,”

“That’s cause you were my love.”

“Fair enough bebita, so I said that if what it took to ever see you again was to write you hand written letters and send it to you by a messenger bird; that I’d find a way.”

She looked down blushing, “and when we said goodbye, you said ‘no I’ll see you later’.”

“I was right on my word.”

“Christopher what does this have to do with your case?”

I looked down, ashamed, I wasn’t quite ready to reveal the truth to her but I knew at some point or the other she’d learn the truth. The only difference in the way she’d learn that truth, is that I wanted it to come me and my own perspective before anyone else’s. The people on the stand would paint me as a monster, the villain to any superhero, the scum of the earth. If I let it us go on without any confession of the truth by my own word; then I’d lose her forever and she’d see me in that light, the villain. I could handle the whole world and their mothers thinking I truly was a monster; but not my Y/N.

“After that night that I met you something terrible happened; earlier that day I’d had some trouble with another gang that was undermining me to steal my customers and pin my own people against me. I had a conference with the guy in charge of that gang, his name was Richard and he’s the head of Los Diablos. By the end of the conference it was in my own understanding that we were in a pack to stay out of each other’s way. But that night, Richard and his gang caught me when I too comfortable. They’d been following my moves that whole day and when they saw I was alone leaving the party. They pulled up next to me at a stoplight and shot a round into my car... 3 bullets hit me and I was in the hospital for a while, but as you can see amor I’m alive.” I’d been trying to lighten the mood, to make her see that I’m still the same man she met before.

“Once I got out of the hospital, I had two things that I had to do: one being that I had to take down Los Diablos in any way possible, and two I had to see you again. The whole time I was at the hospital I’d been thinking about our conversation and how insightful, intelligent you were. Which is what led to me being persistent and finding out from some of my homeboys that you worked at that diner on bleaker street...”

She nodded by the look on her face I could tell that her mind had suddenly been registering and putting some pieces together. “The day you came into the diner it’d been raining and you came in soaking wet. I remember the hostess that sat you had told me that you specifically asked for me and she told winked at me telling me to get some. And when I walked up to you and started looking at you. I realized you were the guy from the party. That day you told me your car had broken down and you were stuck in the rain. That you had waited in the rain as they finished towing your car and taking it to the auto shop. You said that you walked over to the diner and that’s why you were soaking wet. That wasn’t true was it.”

“It wasn’t.”

She scoffed at me, and now we both knew that every memory I was about to trench up...

Would in one way or the other be denounced with the truth. That night the truth was that I’d done something I knew she’d be mortified to hear. I don’t know why out of all the places in the world, I decided to go to her diner that day, I’d known she worked there for some time from the information my boys told me. At one point I felt that she was better off never knowing me so I didn’t bother to go their sooner, because I’d only drag her into my mess. But, that night after having realized what I’d done and what had happened... I needed the same comfort she’d brought me that night at the party and I found myself at her diner. Soaked but eager to see her.

——————————————————————————

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Dear all you spectacular readers,

I hope you enjoy this chapter I’d struggled creatively on what to write next but it’s finally here the 3rd chapter and I promise not to make you guys wait too long for the fourth I’m actually brainstorming of where to go from here so although I won’t make promises my goal is to have the fourth one up by next weekend same day, Sunday. So stay tuned and I don’t know if you guys really want me to add a tag list I’d be more then happy to do so. Thank you so much for reading and all your lovely support. Te amo a todos!

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | January 2020

Happy 28th! Time for some fic rec! Here are all the fics I read and loved this month. As always, all the love for the authors in this fandom ♥

✦ Foolishly Laying Our Hearts On The Table | runaway_train | friends to lovers - marriage proposal - pining - fluff - light angst - 11k “You think Harry wants that?” “Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten. “Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully. “He’s my boyfriend.” He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?” Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.” Or The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

✦ We Can Go On Forever (When Everything’s Gone Forever) | jurassiclouis | a/b/o - mating rituals - fluff - 39k Harry spent most of his adult life focused on either his studies or his books - 5 of which he has already had published before he was 30. Immediately after completing his dissertation, he was offered a lectureship at Cambridge University where he’s been for 2 years now. This wasn’t the first time in his life that he had felt the incessant itch to know more about a subject by any means. However, this was the first time the subject had been an Omega.

✦ keep it sweet in your memory | Safetypinprince | cheating - emotional cheating - divorce - moral ambiguity - 17k 'How'd it go?' Harry pushes them into Niall's room and shuts the door behind him, so Georgia doesn't overhear. 'It was good. We just caught up, mostly... I may have done something a little stupid, though.' And Niall's eyebrows are in his hairline at that. 'I mean. Okay, so I invited Louis out on Saturday.' 'Saturday? Your--' 'Yes, my bachelor party...' and then Harry has to explain himself, 'I just felt guilty. I think. He was like. Telling me he wanted to hook up.' 'He WHAT!?' 'No. I mean, not with me. Like. He wants to go out and meet people.' 'He'll hate that. He's too much of a romantic.' 'Yeah, well. Whatever his name was messed him up a little, it would seem.'

✦ the way the storms blow | rbbsbb | friends to lovers - accidental voyeurism - pining - 21k Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick. That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way. Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in. Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

✦ The Frying Pan and the Fire | embro | 22k Harry is a former child star who now works at a bar. Louis is an indie artist who wants Harry to be in his new music video. Harry is a grump and Louis is too chipper. Harry is straight and Louis is openly gay. Louis is determined and persistent and at some point Harry stops denying himself.

✦ But When We Kiss... | indiaalphawhiskey | PWP - age difference - Sugar Daddy - strangers to lovers - daddy kink - discipline kink - spoiling kink - 8k Louis only nodded, still smiling. “Right, okay. As much fun as this has been, I really doubt the lovely heated seating of my car will dull our banter. Or...” he dragged out the ‘r’, eyes mischievous. “Are you really going to let a…” he assessed Harry. “Twenty? Twenty year gap,” he confirmed. “Be the reason you get hypothermia? Is that really the hill you want to freeze on, Mr. Principled?” –– Or, while Harry and Louis adore the chase, they find they adore each other much, much more.

✦ thinking about the t-shirt you sleep in | nonsensedarling | a/b/o - emotional hurt/comfort - mutual pining - fluff - friends to lovers - 52k Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

✦ beautiful sound beautiful noise | delsicle | Guardian Angels - strangers to lovers - famous/not famous - hurt/comfort - light angst - fluff - 53k Louis is a washed-up pop star who has spent nearly a year hiding away from the world. Harry is a guardian angel who is assigned to live with him for the summer. Neither of them quite get what they’re expecting.

✦ once bitten and twice shy | pinkcords | friends to lovers - enemies to lovers - Christmas - angst - mild homophobia - 19k This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?” Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

✦ You Smell Like | mystic_believexx | pack dynamics - werewolves - human pack member - soulmates - friends to lovers - kid fic - scenting - 185k For her part, Jay took everything in her stride, barely batting an eyelid when Louis came into the kitchen the night Harry left and said, “I seem to have accidentally become the pack’s Alpha”. Ever since Harry left town, Louis’ found himself with the role of pack Alpha, despite being human. So he can’t wait to hand over the reins when Harry returns. Except, it’s not quite that simple… OR The one where Louis is the Alpha’s mate and everyone is aware of it except for Louis and Harry. Go figure!

✦ Strangers in Love | sweetums | slow burn - amnesia - car accidents - angst - light dom/sub - enemies to lovers - 42k Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

✦ Just Let Me Adore You | lovelarry10 | kid fic - fluff - single parents - famous/not famous - Christmas - strangers to lovers - 26k When Louis’ daughter presents him with a Christmas gift far beyond the price range of a four year old, he jumps to the worst of conclusions. He’s pleasantly surprised when he finds out how she isn’t as naughty as he thought she was, and who came to her rescue..

✦ Looking for something dumb to do | rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife) | meet-cute - marriage proposal - fluff - 4k Louis somehow gets coerced into accepting a challenge to propose to his crush. Somehow, the night doesn't end in a disaster.

✦ Meet Me Underneath The Mistletoe | 4ureyesonly28 | christmas - fluff - 9k Louis flies out to Chicago for business just before Christmas... His flight home is cancelled because of a snow storm and he ends up going to his colleague Niall's Christmas party where he meets the most gorgeous man he's ever seen. And if they end up under the mistletoe within less than an hour then that's nobody's business but theirs.

✦ Just Say Yes | GMTYUniverse | fake relationship - fake marriage - friends to lovers - university - 19k “Well, given that I’ve run all out of options - I’d like to propose,” Louis says with a sharp grin. ‘Propose what?’ Harry questions, frown on his face. ‘Honestly Louis, you’re in trouble here and we have to find a way that’ll allow you to stay. Now’s not the time to be cryptic.’ “I’m not being cryptic – I’m proposing, here.” He sits down on one knee and quickly fashions a ring out of the hair-tie he’s still got wrapped around his wrist. “Harry Styles – please marry me and make an honest, British citizen out of me.” -- or the one where Louis and Harry fake a marriage to keep Louis in Britain, and it's suspiciously easy, until it isn't anymore.

✦ Won't You Help Me Make This Wish Come True? | DuchessKitty16 | bucket list - grandparents - 13k Harry is determined to help his grandfather Richard get through his bucket list. Problem is, #3 on the list is to "propose to the pretty girl down the lane", who just happens to be the grandmother of Louis Tomlinson, the boy Harry had a crush on as a teen. Harry and Louis work together to make dreams come true and make a love connection between their grandparents. But will some magic spark between Louis and Harry along the way?

✦ Don't Call Me Angel | larryent | a/b/o - strip clubs - stripper/exotic dancer - 16k Manhattan is a dangerous playground for the rich and entitled Alphas of New York. Those same wealthy Alphas are robbed after spending one night in the presence of a blue-eyed Omega and Officer Styles is assigned to the case.

✦ i'll be yours for christmas | rina_a | christmas - fluff - 5k My family invited you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry.

✦ The Goat Guy of Bethlehem | lululawrence | advent fic - christmas - fluff - humor - strangers to friends to lovers - 25k “What a pretty little thing!” a voice cried, catching Harry's attention. Harry looked up, assuming it was a merchant talking to Gemma or some other “citizen” of Bethlehem, but when he did, he found a woman with bright eyes and long dark hair walking over to him. “Me?” He wasn’t sure what to expect from any of this since she wasn’t a merchant he had met before. “Yes, you! I think you’d make a very good husband for my son. Are these your parents?” “Uh, yes?” Harry said, almost like a question. Robin and his mom just watched on with amusement, much to his chagrin. Turning to Anne and Robin, the merchant woman said, “I’ll give you six goats for the marriage of your son to mine.” Or every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

[iatasbcl]

Shades of Cool

Pairing: RK900 x Reader 

A/N: hey! I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I just got done with my finals so I can finally write again (woo). That being said, I don't feel like this is good enough so there is that. Also, this was heavily inspired by LDR’s ‘shades of cool’ MV.. sooo ya, maybe listen to that

Warnings: Character death, hallucinations, implied suicide, grief, IDK this is just sad

2 0 4 8

Richard closed his eyes and leaned against his chair. He tried to tune you out, to forget how sweet your voice sounded when you let out a laugh, to ignore how beautiful you looked as you swayed from side to side, he tried to push you out his mind. The logical part of him wanted you out while his consciousness wanted you to preserve you, or rather what’s left of you.

It was pathetic, he knew it. He knew you and him were not the same, that his thirium pump was not the same as your beating heart. He still loved you as his one and only, he had found what humans usually searched for years and years in a matter of a few months into his own life.

To him, you were perfect.

Can you promise me something, Richie?

Anything, my love.

He found you and you found him in the midst of the chaos of your daily lives. It wasn’t easy for him to understand his attachment to you first. But he grew to love it, to love you. Letting down the walls that were designed for him was a difficult task, but he broke through them one by one, only for you.

Life was not fair, not to him anyway. You were human while he was an android and both you knew what that would mean. He would outlive you at some point, he would continue to live while you wouldn’t.

Promise me that you will move on. That you will be happy without me, please.

He couldn’t. Not with the way the universe took you from him so soon. He tried; he truly did try to find happiness again because he promised he would. No lover could make him as happy as you did, they couldn’t make him smile just at the thought of them. Richard’s friends, family, and even colleagues all tried to help him move on and let go of you.

And he did, for a while. It hurt to live without the one person he wanted to share his days with, but he did, nonetheless. The world wasn’t done toying with him though.

He didn’t know what happened exactly. It must have been a malfunction in his memory, optical units, and audio processors. He started seeing you everywhere despite not accessing his memory. His memories of you started blending into his reality. You were dancing in your living room again, you were working next to his desk, you were reading quietly in the park, you were everywhere he went.

He remembered how he felt the first time it happened. He had headed home after a long night, mentally exhausted and ready to go into standby mode. He opened the door to yo- his apartment and he swore his thirium pump stopped when he noticed a shadowy figure on his sofa. Its silhouette was awfully similar to yours as the person continued to watch tv – which was turned off.

He called your name in a breathy whisper, but you didn’t respond at all. His legs rushed to you, could it be you? Were you somehow brought back? No. It wasn’t possible.

His logical thinking was right, it was the fragment of you. He discovered that when his hand passed right through your figure. His mind projecting you onto his life was the last thing he needed, or so he thought.

He could’ve had the issue fixed if he wanted to; he almost did.

In a sense, he had you in his life again. Sometimes you’d say the sweetest things to him, you’d let out that adorable laugh and he was hearing your voice again. He missed it, looking at you through his memories wasn’t enough before and now you were here, with him. He couldn’t hold you and truly talk to you, but the way memories of you came to life and haunted him in the best way possible was enough.

Others started to notice his increasingly strange behavior. He was brightening up of course, but he had distanced himself from others at the same time, only relishing in you.

+

“Richard, is it alright if I talked to you about something in private?” Connor had asked him on a quiet Monday. Richard looked up from his terminal for a second and noticed the concerned look on his counterpart’s face. He looked backed down and continued his work “I’d rather not.”

“Richard.” Came Connor’s stern voice, “Some of your biocomponents are malfunctioning. They have been that way for a while –”

Richard cut him off by slamming his hands against the table, “I said I don’t wish to talk. Leave me be, Connor.” Connor looked at him for a second, everyone was staring too as the loud sound had gotten their attention.

“Richard…” the man sighed. “Just leave me be. Please.”

+

Nines, are you sure you want to do this?

Yes. He was sure, he was so sure of his own calculations and abilities that he failed to consider any unpredictable variables. The criminal that shot you down from afar, how long the ambulance took to get to you and how he couldn’t stop you from bleeding out were all things that should not have happened. You weren’t supposed to take that bullet, he was.

He didn’t know why he even stood where you and he once were. This wasn’t a memory he was fond of and yet he came to this dark corner behind the building where your last bust occurred. He craved reliving as many memories of yours as he could.

+

You emerged once again as soon as his eyes fluttered shut. this time you laid next to him, your hands running through his hair or rather disappearing when you try to get in contact with him.

I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I was so scared.

Oh. It was a distinct memory that he had buried in the furthest parts of his head. You two had laid next to each other after a practically rough night where a suspect almost killed him. He would have, had not been for you. Both of you just laid next to each other. He remembered feeling numb while you trembled and quivered against him. It was part of your jobs and yet there you were, almost crying because you thought you had lost him.

You were just his partner; you shouldn’t have been so concerned about the well-being of an android. Or so he thought back then. Your relationship only progressed after that.

He missed you.

+

Why did you let me die, Richie?

Richard’s eyes snapped open. Your sweet voice was no longer that, instead it held a tone of animosity to it. You were angry. The trembling figure stood in front of him with their lips tight and expression sour. It was a look you had never given him before. How were you saying things you’d never said before?

I didn’t want to die. I was so scared. I just wanted to go home.

“I… I didn’t want you to die –” he began, wondering if this was what hell felt like.

You did. You took everything from. You killed me. You were supposed to be the perfect machine, but you couldn’t even save me.

The android stood still. You were right, this was his fault. It was because he was not efficient enough, it was because he made the wrong predictions, it was because he…

He was worthless.

Richie. Let’s go home.

He didn’t notice you wrapping yourself around him. He didn’t notice you backing off and giving him something – a gun. Come to me, baby. To you. He would go back to you. That is exactly what he wanted.  To go where you were. He stared at the gun.

He would always go back to you.

[honestgrins]

Due Diligence || Klaroline

Caroline loves her job as Esther Mikaelson's executive assistant, and she is a damn good one. The next generation of Mikaelsons, however, make things more difficult than necessary.

.

Caroline strode down the sidewalk, easily balancing a tray of coffees as she dodged fellow pedestrians crowding her morning commute. She usually managed to avoid the rush by getting to work by 6:00, but Esther had allowed her a couple hours to see her mother off to the airport. Unfortunately, that left her fighting rush hour. Her focused expression seemed to clear a path for her, however, all the way to her destination. "Good morning, Andrew!"

The doorman greeted her with a wide smile, happy to accept the cappuccino she passed him. "Good morning to you, Miss Forbes. Before you head upstairs, you should know that Mrs. Mikaelson's children are still on the premises."

"Thanks for the heads up," she sighed, wincing. Family breakfasts were an occupational hazard when Caroline had to work from Esther's penthouse, and she would rather not incur the wrath of the younger generation by interrupting. A schedule was a schedule, though, and she wouldn't let Rebekah's sneers or Elijah's condescension change that. "How many?"

Andrew gave a sympathetic nod. "All of them."

Her eyes bugged slightly in surprise, though she tried to smile through it as she made her way to the elevators. She passed the operator a latte. "Hi, Reggie. I hear it's a full house."

"You heard right, Miss, and they're in fine form today," the old man warned. "If you don't mind me saying so."

"Never," she promised, having bought thousands of coffees for the staff over the years for exactly this reason. "Your secrets are safe with me." He tipped his cup to her before keying in the penthouse code, and they settled in for the long ride up. "I don't suppose you heard what has the family so riled?"

Shrugging, Reggie didn't seem too confident. "It was really tense, what with all five of them squeezed in here with me. They were snapping more than usual."

Caroline sighed, wishing she could lift out her own caffeine boost without upsetting the tray. The Mikaelson children were a viper's nest on a good day. There were only two topics that could make it worse: money or positioning within the company. She was a damn good executive assistant, and Mikaelson Industries only ran as smoothly as it did because of what she did for Esther; should the matriarch decide to retire, though, it would take a hell of a raise to keep her, too. Putting one of them in charge would only throw the family into chaos, and she had no desire to watch that happen - let alone to be at their competing beck and call.

Like a death knell for her sanity, the elevator bell rang upon reaching the top floor. "Wish me luck," she joked as Reggie waved her off. Slipping off to the kitchen, she set down the remaining coffees and her tote on the counter, digging out the heels she'd planned to wear for the day.

"Oh, Caroline," a familiar voice clucked from the other doorway, "those tennies do not go with that outfit."

With as polite a smile as she could manage, Caroline quickly swapped out her sneakers and tucked them back into her bag. "Hello, Rebekah. Some of us take the subway on occasion, and even all of my pageant training wouldn't be enough to make that bearable in pumps." As soon as her hands were free, she grabbed her iced triple espresso and took a very unladylike gulp. "I assume breakfast is still going on, so I'll just sneak back to the office." 

Mrs. Pearson, the housekeeper, entered the kitchen bearing a stack of dishes. Caroline lifted the last cup toward her and smiled, tossing the tray in the recycling bin. But before she could make her escape, Rebekah laced her arm through Caroline's, putting the other girl on instant alert. "Nonsense, you should join us. Nik has finally graced us with his presence, and I know he'd be thrilled to see you." 

She really didn't need the perfectly manicured nails pressed into her arm to remind her just how dangerous Rebekah Mikaelson could be - and yet.

They all but marched down to the formal dining room, Rebekah maneuvering her to enter first. "Look who finally decided to show up," she announced cheerily. "Remind me, Caroline, what do we pay you for?"

Biting back every retort she'd ever rehearsed to her bathroom mirror, she gave a friendly grin. The plastic of her cup bowed under her clenched grip, but her face was pleasant enough. "Good morning, everyone. Just wanted to say hello before catching up on the office."

Esther sipped her tea, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. "Caroline, I trust your mother is safely delivered to the airport."

"Yes, thank you." She had to fight back a strange urge to curtsey, despite years of being used to the courtly accent and rigid manners. Mindful of the other, less trustworthy ears trained on her to hunt for personal weakness, she figured it safest to focus on work. "I've been monitoring your correspondence on the way over here, everything seems to be progressing as normal."

Taking her seat next to a sprawled out Kol, Rebekah leaned forward like she had a juicy secret to share. "Caroline takes the subway, you know."

"Many people do," Elijah pointed out from behind his open newspaper. "It's hardly our business how Miss Forbes travels to work, especially during peak hours." She almost felt vindicated from the usually cold chief financial officer, only for him to pointedly check his watch. "I suppose she's to be commended in making good time despite the late hour."

"Indeed." Finn stirred his tea with a grating scrape of the spoon, and Caroline could feel the individual muscles of her jaw clench at the sound. 

Kol, meanwhile, appeared utterly pleased at the awkward moment. "A clever rejoinder as always, brother," he teased before turning toward her. "You look lovely as always, darling. Doesn't she look lovely, Nik?"

The air might have been sucked from the room with how she could only hear the blood rushing in her ears. She nodded toward the last pair of curious eyes, forcing a quick smile. "Klaus, what a nice surprise. Welcome home." His attention burned along her skin as she glanced away, nodding to Esther. "I'll be in the office when you're ready. The new publishing acquisition is on standby for streamlining operations, and Alaric has asked for a half hour to go over broad legal strategy against the Lockwood startup."

Finn frowned in that stony way of his. "Why am I not in for that, Mother?"

"Because Alaric is better on the offensive, dear," Esther replied. "Thank you, Caroline, pencil Alaric in after lunch with Richard Lockwood. We should have a better grasp of his company's intentions once I actually meet the man."

"Done." With a final nod, Caroline did her best to escape without hurrying, but she knew it couldn't be that simple. Just as she stepped into the office, a warm hand grasped her elbow. "Klaus-"

"You're not happy to see me." 

Her eyes closed at the uncertain flirt in his voice, a small smile turning her lips anyway at the memories it conjured. "I'm...surprised. I thought your grand hotelier plans were going to keep you in Europe for the year."

Klaus tugged lightly on the end of her ponytail, smirking at the way her whole face opened up in affront. "Surely, someone so intimately familiar with the Mikaelson brand knows I can afford a plane ticket or two," he joked. "You've been ignoring my calls. I find I don't like that."

Pushing on with her usual routine of a work day, Caroline busied her hands with computers and folders. Still, she felt him watching and couldn't make herself ignore it; the blush was warm on her cheeks. "It was a one-time thing, Klaus. We agreed."

"You said it, I didn't argue. I figured you would allow me the opportunity to properly woo you," he tempted, sitting in the chair across from her desk even as she fled to Esther's inner office. His volume just increased so she could hear him. "Hence the phone calls, sweetheart."

Caroline leaned over the antique desk, hands planted firmly on the agenda she'd been laying out. Relieved he hadn't followed her in, she took a deep breath, at a loss for how she ended up having a mind-blowing, one-night stand with her boss's son. Worse, she wasn't all that sure she wanted it to stay at one night, either. "You don't want to date me, Klaus."

His laugh was warm and immediate. "Funny, I think that's exactly what I want to do. In fact, I have a reservation tonight at your favorite sushi restaurant for just that purpose."

"My favorite sushi place?" 

"Mrs. Pearson is an exceptional hostess, love, and she's always had a bit of a soft spot for me. She was a font of information on your takeaway selections."

She scowled, knowing full well he couldn't see her. "Well, that's just cheating."

"Perhaps, but I have no regrets."

With a scoff, she stepped back out into her space and found him looking at the framed photos littering her desk. "Seriously," she said, snatching one of her dad with a baby Caroline from his hands, "I work sixteen hours a day more often than not, I know everything about your mom, and even I'm not that good at compartmentalizing to handle dating her son. You don't want to date me."

Frowning, his hands steepled under his chin. "Because my mother would complicate things?"

"Because you get some thrill out of seducing your mother's executive assistant," she sadly accused. "Congrats, you did it, and we had a great time. Why can't you leave it at that?"

Any levity in his expression drained in a second as he considered her words. "Why are you so adamant we have to leave it at that?"

Caroline blinked, taken off guard at his plaintive tone. "I- How would you see this going? I feed Esther small talk hints at galas with you trailing after us? You fly me out to France or Japan for the weekend, only for me to take the fanciest walk of shame from the airport to her office?"

"You'd be ashamed to date me," he realized, his jaw tense.

Something bristled along her spine like a warning, and it scared her. "Well, no, but-"

His eyebrows rose, the smug playboy who'd seduced her over late night market reports and art history replaced by an earnest, lonely man. "I like you, Caroline," he said, his voice painfully honest. "And I'd like to see more of you, on your terms. You're right, it might take work to finesse the details. I'm willing to put in that work...if you are."

She licked her lips, her fingers fidgeting over her daily planner. "I, well," she sighed, suddenly winded. "This is real?"

And his smug smirk returned as he reached for her shaky hands, covering them with his own. "Sushi, eight-thirty." When she opened her mouth to protest, his smirk widened until she saw dimples. "Mother promised Rebekah over breakfast to finish work early tonight, something about an emergency spa appointment. I doubt she'll keep you past seven."

A part of her wanted to make her own emergency spa appointment for a surprise first date, but she did appreciate the consideration for her schedule. "Still doesn't leave me much time to spruce up," she said, fighting a smile at how his whole face brightened for what sounded like a 'yes.' "Don't you want me to look pretty?"

Like he couldn't hold himself back anymore, Klaus stood from his seat and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. "You're beautiful, love. I'll see you tonight."

As he turned to leave, her stomach gave a giddy leap. She didn't want that feeling to end. "Did you really find out my favorite place from Mrs. Pearson?"

Esther and Finn's voices floated in from the hallway, and he kept his own low. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" With a final wink, he strode out of the office, leaving her a puddle of anticipation despite needing to work a twice-shortened day for his mother. 

"Of course he did," she muttered to herself, not quite able to be angry about it. Maybe testing the boundaries of their relationship would be more fun than she had feared. She really couldn't wait to find out.

[vhanities]

Richard Vamir died almost a month ago and Clair still hadn't moved on.

     It was not entirely visible. You could only see it if you looked closely at the cracks, at the locker left untouched in the dormitory or the seat assigned to him in Moore's Design Strategy classes. And, if you dug deeper, you could see it in the idle chair sitting by the window in Samaira Sheikh's dormitory―the chair that had, in a sense,belonged to Richard. It was empty in a way that made it look like Samaira was almost expecting him to come back, talk about his day and sit down on the plush purple velvet covers to look out of the window while she sat on her desk completing the rest of her pre-mid projects in silence. It was like they were all expecting him to come back and quote pretentious poems, like they were all living their lives wasting every moment in memories.

     All except one.

     Han Kai Tuo had been the first one to arrive at the roof after getting the ominous message from Richard and he knew more than what was just there. He refused to believe Richard committed suicide, contrary to the popular belief among the townsfolk, and today was no exception. He sat on the edge of Samaira's bed, glaring at the white bedspread with lilac undertones. "This isn't right," he said, after a while.

     Dante, who was sprawled on the faux purple fur carpet playing catch all by himself, glanced up. "Kai―" he said with a tired sigh, "―let's just forget that happened okay. Please."

     Kai could not. He could not forget what had happened, he could not unsee it. It was engraved in his brain; branded on his skin. He knew Richard hadn't committed suicide, they all did―but saying even one word of it, just a word, would make them all the prime suspects, no matter what their alibis said.

     "We saw him, he was right there―"

     "Kai!" Samaira, who had been sitting on the desk quietly for a while, slapped the top hard enough for it to resound across the room. "Shut up. Shut up. We saw nothing. We came after he left."

     Kai opened his mouth to retort and shut it back, deciding to lie down on his back instead. He was still wearing his shoes, so he just lay there awkwardly with his feet on the ground and eyes on the whites of the ceiling while his mind floated somewhere else. That day when they'd reached the roof, they weren't alone. There was a man. Black hoodie. Black mask. He'd pushed Richard off. He'd sent them the text. He was the one who'd killed Richard. Kai's jaw flexed and tightened and he sat up again.

     "This isn't right," he repeated.

     "Well damn Sherlock," Dante said. "What do you want to do, then? Tell the police? We've kept quiet about it for a month and we are of legal age. We'll be doomed."

     "We need to do something, we can't just stay here wallowing knowing that our friend was murdered!"

     The silence that followed was terrible. Kai's head ached, and he felt clammy underneath his yellow hoodie. The floor-length mirror in the room's corner made the bags under his eyes look weary and tired and the small silver ear piercings look unnecessary. He ran a hand through the messy black strands of his hair and turned to look at Samaira.

     "You are the sensible one. Do you think this is right?"

     Samaira turned to face them after five hours of ignoring their existence. The look she gave him was tired, it made something inside him drop. They had all been so close and now there was nothing they could manage to tell each other, nothing they could manage to say. They were all dealing with Richard's death in different ways; Filippa had started smoking again and Dante quit the Basketball team, Samaira worked herself to the bone and Kai? He was just hanging in there, not fully there to the conclusion but enough to feel the empty worry in his heart.

     He hated feeling helpless. And he hated the words that came out of Samaira's mouth next. "Kai, go back. Take a break. Just, go cool off somewhere."

     For a minute, he said nothing. Then the anger came bubbling out. He stood up and walked to the door silently, ignoring Dante's quiet refusal. When he got out, he made sure to bang the door as loudly as he could despite horrible pain of protest shooting up his palms in the process. (He'd hurt himself last week and still didn't know how.)

     "Goddamn my life―" he yelled, "Goddamn everything―"

     Someone coughed. Tension shot up his spine. This was the Girl's Dorm and he, a boy, had just caused a scene. He looked up to find half-dressed girls in pajamas and turned away instantly. His insides turned to melted nothings and his eyes scrammed for another pace to latch on to. The board, he thought. Look at the notice board.

     "I'm sorry," someone giggled. "But you should probably leave."

     He probably should.

     Kai apologized under his breath and tried to navigate past the corridor to the staircases without raising his eyes. Almost tripping on a few bottles of only God knew what, he made it to the stairwell and plopped against the opening. The girl's dorm and the boy's dorm of students majoring in Fashion were located in the same stretch of suburban apartment buildings. At least he thought they were suburban apartment buildings. Eight stories high and painted in funky blues and greens with random graffiti on every nook and corner outside while decorating the interior with rouge bricks and black plastic for an industrial look, the house dormitories were made to hold about five hundred students. Each flat was just a large bedroom with two beds, two desks and a kitchenette―not like home but just enough to be one.

     The boy's side was separated from the girl's one by nothing but a small lobby on the first floor and a wall made above it to divide it from the other.

          "Throw a tantrum somewhere else, you little bitch."

     Kai turned to find Dante strolling down the set of stairs taking two at a time. His hands were shoved inside the pocket of his grey pyjamas and the oversized grey hoodie hid the fair tuft of his hair. He looked like shit but still managed to look good at it. Kai bit a smile threatening to let loose and forced himself to look away.

     "Look, if you're here to tell me to get over―"

     "I'm not, idiot," Dante smiled. "Let's get some bread."

     "It's five in the evening."

     "So what?"

     Dante moved forward and Kai followed him, a heavy hole in his chest sewing itself shut in a place where it could hurt only him. They were outside in five seconds, nodding at Manuel who was dozing off by the receiver's desk. The campus was crowded with students; the sky was light―he wasn't sure what they called it but it was in the lightest shade of orange. Sunlight leaked in through little crevices between the artsy buildings around the boulevard and cut through the leaves between each green trees and plants in nets. Dante was waiting for him in silence, sitting on the ledge before the neatly cut bushes that framed the park.

     Kai sat by him, waiting for him to speak.

     "It isn't easy for any of us, you know. Richard is gone, and it isn't just another day―I don't remember one damned day when it wasn't the five of us. He was always there, even when we didn't talk, even when we weren't around each other, even when I was an asshole and he was an asshole―he was always there. I don't expect you to understand what Richard meant to me―"

     "I do," Kai said because he did.

     Richard wasn't the talkative kind. He wasn't the happy kind or the sad kind. He was the kind of person who'd sit by you in silence to let you know he was there for you with his actions instead of words, the kind who'd leave the last piece of his favourite sandwich for you even if he hadn't had the other slices himself. Richard had saved them so many times―had saved Kai so many times―that it hurt to think that just when their turn came, they'd been a second too late.

     "Yes," Dante said. "Maybe you do."

     "I do and I―we should have helped him, he's been there for us so many times," Kai's words got caught in his throat and he reared back, eyes burning and fingers palmed in a fist. He'd wanted to do something. Something. Something that would've led to a different ending other than the one they were faced with now, something that would've led to Richard being alive and safe and there.

     "We've all got things we can never recover from and we've all got things that we carry with us forever." Dante stretched back, hands on either side of him and feet scrapping the cobble. "Life is never your story to tell."

     Kai just stared straight ahead at the entrance to their dormitory, at a group of friends chilling on the steps leading out of it. There were five of them, just like they had once been five too. The blond boy in the middle said something and the brunette sitting by him laughed―Filippa and Richard. Kai closed his eyes. "I don't know," he said, burying his face in his hands. "I don't know."

     That's when Dante's phone rang. Filippa. Unfortunately for them, when taking the call, Dante put it on the speaker for both of them to hear. Filippa was screaming, and it was never pretty when she screamed. She had one of the foulest mouths in the year and her temper tantrums usually included loud one-sided declarations to 'fight her.' The students walking past them stared at the phone in their hand and then at them and Kai realised they were probably dressed like homeless jocks, instantly feeling the embarrassment rise up his spine as blood rushed to his cheeks.

     "GUYS―I AM GOING TO END THAT TRICK ASS FUCKING BITCH―HOW DARE SHE TRY ME? HOW DARE SHE―"

     "Yo calm down woman―" Dante half-grinned. "Who are you talking about?"

     "DARCY FUCKING VAMIR," Filippa's voice grew more shrill, like that was even possible. "THAT BITCH MADE MY GIRLFRIEND BREAK UP WITH ME."

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