#and pretty quickly went through the process of elimination to figure out what it was

[babybluebex]

laszlo kreizler nsfw alphabet

so yeah this... Happened. the zemo version is coming soon, stay tuned! (probably tomorrow morning bc a bitch is tired lmao)

(gif credit to @lindir)

A = Aftercare.

Laszlo is such an aftercare king. He’s checking on you in every way he can think of: asking you if you feel alright, maybe massaging your hips if he had you in a weird position, offering you dinner or wine, maybe even a hot bath, if you’d like (and the bath would have special perfumed oils he had sent from Paris because Laszlo is SUCH a self care whore, he’s got soaps and perfumes out the wazoo).

B = Body Part.

His favorite part of yours are your breasts. No questions, hands down. He likes using your breasts as a pillow at night— just settling himself between your legs and resting his head on your tits is a dream he indulges in frequently. He also really loves seeing you in the new French-style of dresses that have a lower neckline, and, if you wear one of those dresses to dinner without telling him beforehand, he’s as good as gone. He’s staring the whole time and can only manage simple sentences.

C = Cum.

I think Laszlo likes to cum inside you, but he also wouldn’t mind cumming on your tits. If you’re on your knees, sucking him off, he’ll pull himself out of your mouth and almost rip your blouse in his haste to set your tits free before his orgasm rips through him. He only chooses to cum inside you if he can’t cum on your tits (for example, if you’re having slow, kissy sex and he can’t bear to leave your wet heat).

D = Dirty Secret.

Laszlo. Loves. To. Be. Degraded. From a psychological standpoint, he understands that his desire to be brought down and ridiculed is born from some sort of childhood trauma that DEFINITELY involves his father, but he just can’t help himself from getting so ridiculously turned on when you call him a dog for humping your leg while you try to sleep. Bonus points if you use his title while you do it: “Just like a little bitch in heat, aren’t you, Doctor Kreizler? You’re so aroused, you can hardly handle yourself. Are you too dumb to touch your own cock? Do you need me to do it? Oh, Doctor, what a dumb little thing you are.”

E = Experience.

Even Daniel himself has said that Laszlo has like NO experience. Laszlo got ZERO bitches (which I find hard to believe but ok whatever you say, writers of The Alienist), so, the first time y’all have sex, he’s more likely than not losing his virginity (let’s not get into the debate of “virginity is a social construct” because a.) IT IS and b.) Laszlo would lecture for hours about this). HOWEVER, these things come naturally to him. He is just Good In Bed. He figures it out very quickly, so, while you make fun of him for going a little stupid when he’s aroused, he makes up for it by bruising your cervix and apologizing later.

F = Favourite Positions.

Laszlo loves that soft, slow, kissy sex, so he’s into whatever position makes it possible for him to be inside you and to kiss you at the same time. Missionary is a go to, but sometimes he’ll have you sit on his desk and kiss your neck as he hikes your skirts up and fucks you all slow and nice.

G = Goofy.

Hardly ever? Laszlo is pretty serious most of the time, and the only time we ever see him Not Serious in the show is when he’s wasted after John’s bachelor party in season 2. So, maybe y’all went to dinner at Delmonico’s, then a ball for members of high society, and he had a little too much champagne and schnapps. He’s not like giggling and all, but his cheeks are red and he’s smiling more than usual, and calling you sweet names “Oh, mein Kätzchen” and “Meine kleine Prinzessin”. That’s Laszlo’s version of goofy.

H = Hair.

OK, my train of thought here is: LOOK AT THIS MAN’S BEARD. HIS BEARD IS NICE AS SHIT. If he treats his facial hair that good— regular trims, the beard oils we all know he uses, even if it isn't strictly canon— then his downstairs hair is nice too. Definitely soft, if maybe a little wiry sometimes (but tbh whose isn’t), and it’s a nice little cropping at the base of his cock. He also has a thin happy trail up his soft tummy, and a good amount on his chest (as we see in the show lol that much is canon).

I = Intimacy.

Laszlo is ALL ABOUT intimacy. You’ll know he’s in a ~mood~ because you’ll ask what’s being served at Delmonico’s that night, and Laszlo is like “I thought we might stay in tonight. John gave me his grandmother’s recipe for chicken soup”. He’ll light candles and pour you wine and play nice music on his gramophone, and he’ll romance you throughout dinner with little hand touches and sly smiles, until he’s kneeling in front of you and slowly kissing up your leg.

J = Jack-Off.

Honestly, he hardly does it. Of course, I’m sure he did it A LOT before he met you, but now he doesn’t need to pleasure himself anymore. He’s got you to do that. The only exception is if he has to travel for work and you can’t go with him. Even then, he’ll hold off until he absolutely can’t stand it, and then he’ll like read a letter you sent him or look at a sketch that John did of you while he whacks off; sometimes, he’ll just hold your letter to his face, and the faint trace of your perfume is enough to do the job.

K = Kink.

He likes impact play a lot (and perhaps a little roleplay wrapped up in it). On the rare occasion that his fucking is anything but soft and lovely, he’s gonna be hitting your ass and the backs of your thighs as you cling to him while he rails you stupid. Laszlo would try to hit your cheek, but he feels too bad when you wince at the pain of it. Spanking your tits is good to him too. His favorite though (and here’s where the roleplay comes in), is caning your ass. He’ll bend you over the desk in his home office and pull your skirts up past your hips, and he’ll make you count the amount of times his thick wooden cane connects with your soft asscheeks. The roleplay is, more often than not, you were his assistant who did something wrong and needed to be punished. If you miss one or forget to thank him accordingly “Thank you, sir”, he’ll focus the next hit on your thighs.

L = Location.

Either the bed or his desk. Laszlo is a little older (I don’t think we ever get an explicit age? But if we say he’s the same age as Daniel, then he’s 40 to 42-ish) so he can’t do it against a wall or anywhere too crazy (not to mention his right arm can hardly support much weight, so if he needs to hold you up, it’s probably not gonna happen). The bed is a special time for you two because of his arm; he’ll hold himself up with his left arm and rest his hand on your hip or wherever to give himself at least a little leverage. But the desk is usually easier because you can sit, or you can bend over and he can grab your hip.

M = Motivation.

He loves you and wants to worship you. It’s truly as simple as that. He loves you and thinks that you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen, and he wants to show his reverence for you by making love to you.

N = No.

He can’t get into the role of “daddy”, nor can he call you “mommy”. Childhood trauma aside, he will be goddamned if Sigmund fucking Freud is correct about his bullshit Oedipus complex or whatever, so he just eliminates that whole thing entirely.

O = Oral.

He’s very good at it. He’s just… His lips are soft and his beard is good, and he’s not afraid to get a little messy with it. He’ll eat you out until he absolutely has to come up for air, and he’ll have a little bit of your wetness clinging to his mustache, but then he’s right back in it. His medical degree is also put to good use here because he remembers his female anatomy and he’s locked onto your clit the entire time. The first time you ever squirted, it was because Laszlo was nipping at your clit and sucking your wet little hole and pressing his thick fingers into you, and it was A Lot To Process, but you squirted and Laszlo came in his pants instantly because he’s like “I didn’t think women could actually do that… I thought that was a thing that penny novels made up”

P = Pace.

Again, he’s a little older, so he doesn’t fuck like some wild boy. He takes his time with you, touching you and caressing you and kissing you, and his pace is the same way. He’s slow and gentle, but has the capacity to go faster and harder if you ask for it.

Q = Quickie.

Hates them. Never. Never ever ever. If he can’t properly romance you and take his time with you, then what’s the point??

R = Risk.

Surprisingly, Laszlo is a little schemer, and he loves running a risk. He’s already looked down upon by other society members, so what’s the harm in squeezing your ass at a party? PERHAPS it’s inappropriate to get caught in a dark corner with your hand down his trousers and him kissing your neck, but it’s easy to blame it on the alcohol.

S = Stamina.

Once more, he is firmly middle aged, so he can do one round— maybe two, if he’s feeling particularly frisky. Usually, though, one is more than enough for both of you.

T = Toy.

HAVE YALL SEEN SEX TOYS FROM THE 1890S?? SHITS ARE SCARY. Laszlo does not like toys, but he understands their need for existing, so he may not like them but he tolerates them. That being said, he likes to watch you use them. LIke, he’ll sit in a chair by the bed and request you “put on a good show”, and he’ll watch you fall apart, and he’ll only come and touch you if you beg and plead for him to.

U = Unfair.

Mhm, so, in Laszlo’s mind, sex and pleasure are not just a give and take, it’s a two way street. They can (and often need to) coexist. He doesn’t like to initiate something if you won’t be able to reciprocate, so he’s not too into teasing or things. At the aforementioned parties, he’ll only goose your ass if he knows you’re 100% down for it.

V = Volume.

He’s fairly quiet. His mouth is usually really close to your ear, and you’re the only one who gets to hear his pretty little noises. The loudest he’ll be is when he’s come home after traveling and it’s felt like ages since he’s made love to you, he’s gonna come inside you, and his little gasp and moan are louder than usual.

W = Wild Card.

He is down to be tied up. He doesn’t like to tie you up, but if he’s the one being restrained, he’s all over it. It’s nothing too intense, just using a ribbon for your hair to tie his left hand to the headboard, not super tight but enough to make his fingers a little tingly, but he loves it. He loves the switch of the dynamic, how he’s fully at your mercy and you can use him however you please; usually, you just suck him off and ride him, but the endless possibilities get him hard as soon as you pull out the ribbon.

X = X-Ray.

Laszlo has Big Dick Energy, so he has to have a big dick. The best example of this sort of energy is in the very first episode after he goes and interviews Wolf, and comes to speak to Teddy, and Teddy is like “you interviewed the suspect? On whose authority??” and laszlo is like “Mine” like OH HIS DICK IS BIG I KNOW IT. He’s got an above average length and girth, but we know our man likes to eat, so some of his weight goes to his dick, so it’s like,,, He’s got a fat cock, sorry, I don’t make the rules

Y = Yearning.

Constantly. Neverending. He’s at work and he’ll catch a glimpse of a pastel drawing that you commissioned from John for Laszlo’s birthday that sits in a frame on his desk, and his heart starts to hurt from missing you. When he comes home, he’ll embrace you and kiss you like he hasn’t seen you in years, and he’ll want to hear all about your day. You have your doctor so whipped for you, and it’s a different kind of whipped than being pussy whipped. He’s, like, feelings whipped.

Z = ZZZ.

He’s a sleepy little baby after you guys finish. His eyes will be a little heavy and sticky as he’s cleaning up and caring for you (and you definitely coo at him “Oh, Las, you’re so sleepy!”) but when you’re both back in bed, our little man is circling his arm around your waist and nuzzling his cheek into your shoulder. He’s so soft and affectionate, and he’s out like a light when you kiss his forehead and tell him you love him.

[nugnthopkns]

i’ll wait and i’ll listen

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of deafness/hearing loss, cursing, i think that’s it

recommended listening: new song | maggie rogers & del water gap

a/n: hi! first and foremost, i want to say that this is based off my own personal experiences with a deaf father, and it is in no way a reflection of how other people or families with hearing issues operate. this is just how we live and how my dad goes about life. with that out of the way, enjoy some soft nolan content i threw together in 45 minutes. pretty sure i made this gender neutral, but please point out any mistakes!

There’s no legitimate reason for you to be so apprehensive about Nolan meeting your parents.

He’s a great person who is all you could ever ask for in a partner. The two of you get along like peas in a pod, and honestly most of the time your relationship feels like two friends hanging out. Of course there’s a bit more romance involved – but being with Nolan is so easy you barely have to think about it. 

Your parents aren’t the issue either. They’re both incredibly supportive of your relationship, and anything else you do. If it weren’t for them, you never would have left home – they’re the ones who packed the car and drove you all the way to Philadelphia. You never would have met Nolan if they hadn’t practically forced you out of the house and into the world. 

Truthfully, both parties would probably get along great. Your mother is kind and welcoming, and your father has interests similar to Nolan’s. Your younger siblings adore him – they came to visit one weekend and you took them to an afternoon game at Wells Fargo Centre, and afterwards the four of you went out for burgers. Since then they talk to him regularly, and have been begging for you to return home with Nolan. You can tell your parents are getting antsy too – after all, you’ve been with Nolan for nearly two years. 

Yes, Nolan has a busy schedule that doesn’t allow for much travel, but there have been plenty of opportunities over the years for everyone to get together. You’re the one who always comes up with a reason for him not to meet your parents. One time you were ‘sick’, another you were too busy with work to make the trip home. It isn’t that you’re worried they won’t approve or that Nolan will resent them. You’re apprehensive about bringing Nolan around because you’re worried there will be a communication barrier. 

Your dad is deaf, and Nolan doesn’t exactly enunciate his words well. His voice is also exceptionally deep, which doesn’t help much. It isn’t a secret, your father’s hearing issues, and you’ve spoken to Nolan about them numerous times. Most of the time it’s you fretting about it getting worse and he listens intently while you sob into his chest. Since the hearing loss came from years of working around loud machines, it was gradual, which was frustrating for him. You were in high school when he got hearing aides, but eventually they lost their desired effect. Now your dad relies on reading lips and other non-aural markers like hand gestures to fill in the gaps. 

“Babe, I have to meet them at some point,” Nolan says through a mouthful of pasta. “Especially since I plan on sticking around.”

Your mom had called earlier in the afternoon to ask when you were coming home next. The upcoming weekend is free in your schedule, and when you told her she insisted you bring Nolan. He’s out for the season with the migraine related issues so you couldn’t exactly lie and say he was going to be out of town. Instead, you fed her some bullshit excuse and said you’d check to see if he could move some stuff around. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I just don’t want you or my dad getting frustrated if talking doesn’t go smoothly.”

Nolan pushes his chair back from the table and walks to stand behind you. He rubs your shoulders soothingly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “There are a million and ten other ways I can communicate with him Sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

Deep down, you know he’s right. There’s no reason the two of them can’t communicate, even if they can’t do it verbally. After discussing it more and ironing out all your doubts, you call your mom back to let her know both you and Nolan will be coming. A small weight lifts from your chest, knowing that you’ll get the first meeting over with, but dread slowly creeps in. There are so many ways it could go wrong. 

☼☼☼☼

You and Nolan stand on the doorstep of your childhood home hand in hand. As if he can sense how nervous you are, Nolan squeezes gently, reminding you of his unwavering presence. 

“Whatever happens isn’t going to change the fact that I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

To steady yourself from the negative thought swirling in your brain you lean closer to Nolan. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and uses his free hand to knock on the door. Less than two seconds your sister is bounding towards the door and flinging it open. 

“Mom! Y/N and Nolan are here!”

She steps to the side and lets the pair of you in. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the rack behind the door – Nolan copies. As soon as you’re inside the entryway your mother is wrapping you in a massive hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” she says, arms tight around you. “Was the drive okay?”

You go to answer her question but her attention is turned to your very tall boyfriend who is standing beside you like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“You must be Nolan. It’s so nice we could finally meet. Y/N has told me a lot about you.”

Nolan clears his throat before speaking, his deep voice echoing slightly off the ceiling. “All good things I hope,” he laughs, looking to you for reassurance. 

Nodding your head, you join in his laughter. You travel farther into the house, giving your brother a fistbump when you pass him in the hall. When you moved out your parents converted your room into a sophisticated guest bedroom, so there aren’t any embarrassing posters from your teenage years on the walls for Nolan to make fun of. You quickly unpack your suitcase, wanting to get back downstairs and spend time with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and you missed them more than you thought. 

“Is your dad here?” Nolan asks, hanging the couple of sweaters you guys brought up in the closet. 

You glance at the clock on the wall, you shake your head. “He’ll be home from work just before dinner.” 

The two of you head downstairs to chill with your siblings, but not without sharing a few kisses that make your spine tingle. At your brother’s insistence the four of you head to the basement to partake in an air hockey tournament. Though Nolan can hold his own in the NHL, he’s rather miserable at this iteration of the game. Your sister eliminates him in under five minutes, and after a hard fought battle you defeat your brother. 

Nolan tries to coach you before the gold medal game but you laugh him off. “Nol, you were terrible. I think I can hold my own.”

He breathes out harshly through his nose, but you know he isn’t upset with your teasing. “Fine,” he mumbles, “See if you can win without my all-star advice.”

Your sister manages to win in a shootout. It was a close game, and you challenge her to a rematch after dinner. She accepts, insisting you’ll lose again. Nolan bets he can race her around the property, so you move outside. Your mom lets you know dinner will be ready soon, and you throw her a thumbs up. 

Though your sister is a fast runner, she’s got nothing on Nolan’s six foot frame. He passes her with ease, cheekily throwing her the finger as he rushes by. You’re the finish line and instead of stopping when he reaches you, Nolan throws you over his shoulder and continues running through the yard. 

Your laugh rings out as you kick your feet. “Put me down!” you shriek. When he makes no attempt to prove he listened to your cries, you try again. “Nol, come on, put me down. If you fall it’ll be really bad.”

Knowing you’re right, Nolan stops moving and gingerly places you on the ground. His hands move to cup your face and he plants a warm kiss on your lips. You refuse to let it get too far, but you lean into him slightly and sigh when he pulls away. 

In the distance you hear your mom calling for dinner. “Kids, it’s time to eat,” she says. “Your father just got home.”

Your heart beat rises exponentially, and your steps drag slightly as you get closer to the door. Nolan notices, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes you a smile that’s reserved just for you and makes your heart melt. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure I don’t mumble.”

In the dining room, you guide Nolan to sit beside your dad. You figure it’s the spot where he has the best chance of hearing your boyfriend, and no one seems to protest. They give each other a polite nod while the rest of you rush to place everything on the table and serve the food. 

Once everyone is sitting, Nolan takes the initiative to introduce himself. “It’s nice to meet you Sir,” he says a bit slower than his normal speaking voice, making sure to clearly enunciate his words. 

There’s no response from your father, and you suck in a breath. You watched him focus on Nolan’s lips while he spoke, but you fear he still couldn’t quite understand what your boyfriend said. It takes a few more beats for him to process what was spoken, but then your dad is cracking a smile and holding his hand out for Nolan to shake. 

“Glad Y/N isn’t hiding you from us anymore. I thought the first time I’d meet you was at the engagement party.” His voice is a few decibels louder than everyone else’s, due to not being able to hear himself, but Nolan doesn’t seem to mind. 

They slip into an easy conversation about work and hunting, asking each other a million questions. There’s barely room for any one else to contribute but the rest of you don’t mind – it’s been a long time since your dad has been able to go this long without asking someone for assistance. Of course there’s a few bumps in the road – Nolan not speaking clearly or looking elsewhere while telling a story, but that was to be expected. You step in when needed, repeating phrases and recreating scenes with hand actions. Overall, the meal goes swimmingly, and the two men leave the table eagerly to swap stories. 

You spend the time catching up with your mother, and she gushes over how Nolan is handling everything. “He’s doing so well,” she exclaims. “He’s so patient with your dad, waiting to make he understood what was said before continuing, and he doesn’t have an issue repeating himself a few times. You really lucked out Y/N.”

“I know,” you say honestly. “He’s simply the best.”

It’s a few hours later that Nolan finds his way back to you. You arch your brow, wondering what he got up to, and he explains that your dad took him for a walk in the forest to show him the deer he’d been tracking the past couple of weeks. It’s heartwarming that they get along so well, and you feel a little silly for fretting over what would happen. 

☼☼☼☼

“Your dad is nice,” Nolan shrugs as you crawl into bed beside him. “I could hardly tell he was deaf most of the time.”

You tuck yourself into his side and hum. “He does a great job of not letting it define him,” you agree. “But thank you for being so patient with him.”

A small peck is placed to your shoulder blade and you sigh at the contact of Nolan’s lips on your skin. “He did grumble about how my voice is too deep,” he laughs. “Said he could barely hear me. Once I knew that I made sure to speak clearly and let him read my lips.”

You’re speechless. None of your friends or past romantic partners had made that much of an effort to treat your dad like he was a person. They got short with him for needing them to slow down or repeat themselves, and often would refuse to see him again. It’s part of the reason you were so hesitant to introduce Nolan – you wanted to protect him from another person who might treat him differently because he can’t hear.

“I really fucking love you,” you whisper into the darkness. 

You can practically hear the grin in Nolan’s voice as he speaks. “I really fucking love you too.”

The rest of your stay will go just fine, you think as you drift to sleep. There was nothing to worry about, and you can’t wait to watch a friendship blossom between your dad and boyfriend. 

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

[a-simple-gaywitch]

Resident Geniuses

Summary: When the BAU is called to NYC for a case, they weren’t expecting to have to pair up with the local Interpol team. Spencer wasn’t expecting to meet his female counterpart

Word Count: 1496

Warnings: Implied Sexual Content, Talks of Murder Case and Crime

Requested: Yes/No

“The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.” -Albert Einstein 

~

The BAU team was in New York working on a case. The city had yet another serial killer demanding their attention. The team was set up in the FBI field office, trying to lay down a profile. Unfortunately, this unsub would dump the bodies in New Jersey, making him harder to pinpoint. The team was getting closer until the next body showed up. Same MO and signature, but the victimology was completely different. 

Then the local Interpol team arrived. Hotch and the woman in charge of the other team went head-to-head almost immediately.

“The man who was murdered is an international art thief. That makes this our jurisdiction, Agent Hotchner.”

“But he crossed the state line into Jersey. That makes this our jurisdiction, Agent Langley.”

“Um, Maura, Agent Hotchner?” a shy woman towards the back of the group spoke up. “You’re missing the obvious solution of us working together,” she said. “Wouldn’t collaboration help us both reach our goal?”

Agent Langley looked at the woman. “You’re right, Doc.” She sighed. “Agent Hotchner, we should pair up our teams to combine what we know and what you know.”

After a bit of discussion, Maura and Hotch returned to the two gathered teams. 

“Morgan, Prentiss, you are going with Agent MacKenzie and Agent Leavitt to the crime scene,” Hotch said.

“Lorenzo, you’re staying here with Agent Jareau to keep the media at bay.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Reid, you’re staying here with Doctor (L/N).” Spencer’s head snapped up when he heard Hotch addressing him. Spencer looked over at you. You were sitting at a table, going through the FBI’s files. Spencer thought the way your brows furrowed in concentration was adorable. Just looking at you put butterflies in his stomach.

The two teams split up. Tanner MacKenzie, a man who was like your brother, patted your shoulder on his way out. 

“Good luck, Doc.” He looked at Spencer. “I’m sorry man, she’s gonna drive you mad before the end of the day.”

You flipped him off as you took a seat and looked through the files. “Why don’t you bugger off and go catch up to Steph.” It was the first time Spencer was really noticing your accent. 

After the other agents cleared out of the conference room, Spencer cleared his throat. “So, Dr. (L/N)-”

“Oh, (Y/N), please,” you interrupted him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I just don’t like the formality.”

He smiled at you. Spencer found you so endearing. “Call me Spencer.”

~

You and Spencer got along like a wildfire. While the two of you worked, Spencer learned that you were from a small town in Northern England but that you went to Oxford for your degrees. You just about matched him, with 3 PhDs and 4 Master’s degrees. 

He learned that your nickname was Doc, but only your team could call you that. He learned about your family and how hard it was for you to be an ocean away from them.

You laughed at all Spencer’s jokes, and you actually understood them. Spencer had never met anyone he got along with as quickly or as easily. You were intelligent, funny, and beautiful. And when the team finally got back to the hotel for the night, you were the only thing on Spencer’s mind.

Spencer looked up at the hotel ceiling, realizing he was truly, completely, unequivocally, fucked.

~

When Spencer arrived at the office the next morning, the Interpol team was already there. They were rushing around the office, functioning as a well-oiled machine. 

“What’s going on?” Hotch asked. 

“There was a double murder last night,” Agent Langley informed him. “Both were women. One has ties to a crime ring my team has been investigating, the other doesn’t. Both fit your preliminary profile for victimology.”

“This changes our whole outlook. We need to sit down, all of us, and discuss this.”

Once everyone settled at a conference table, Hotch said, “So, start giving me theories. Why the seemingly random kill before reverting back to his original victimology?”

“Was he a victim of opportunity?” Morgan asked. “Or he got in the way and needed to be eliminated?”

You shook your head. “No. Marcel Delacroix is -was- a recluse. He only left his apartment for jobs.”

“A hit job?” Prentiss suggested. “Maybe the unsub was hired by someone to take the art thief out?”

“That could be possible,” Agent MacKenzie said with a nod. “The world of an art thief is competitive, much like the world of the one making the art. Jobs can be hard to come by, especially if people know someone is good, like Delacroix.”

“But that brings up another question- what is this unsub’s true motive?” Jason Gideon asked. 

You were muttering under your breath, looking at the case file. 

“What’s going on up there, Doc?” MacKenzie asked. 

“Can I see the information on the previous victims again?” Hotch slid the files over to you. The BAU watched as you arranged the photos around the table. 

“What is she doing?” Prentiss asked.

“It’s her process. It only makes sense to her, but her genius always pulls through,” Langley said.

“Sounds familiar.” Morgan nudged Spencer, who was just watching you work. “Reid?”

“What? Sorry, I was trying to see if I could figure out what connections she made.”

“I got it!” you said. “None of these are random. They’re all linked to the same crime family.” You went on a spiel about how they all connect, and who the unsub was. “The only problem is, we don’t know where to find him.”

“Leave that to us,” Hotch said.

~

The two teams worked together to bring the unsub into custody. Thankfully, he didn’t make things harder for everyone until he was put in restraints. 

“Well, good work, Agent Hotchner,” Maura said, holding her hand out to shake the man’s. 

“You too, Agent Langley. It was nice to work alongside your team.

“Likewise. Well, I guess we should be going back to our own office. We have a lot of paperwork to fill out.”

Before your team left, you walked over to Spencer. “You know, Dr. Reid, that cell phone in your hands can be used for more than just work,” you said in a low voice. You handed him a card, brushing your fingers against his. It sent a shock through Spencer. “Goodbye, everyone! It was nice working with you!” She waved to the BAU before following her team out of the FBI office. 

Spencer smiled as he watched her leave. He looked down at the business card you gave him, your personal number scrawled on the bottom. In Roman Numerals. He tucked the card in his pocket before his team saw. 

~

“Hey, has anyone seen Reid this morning?” Hotch asked the team as they waited for the jet to be ready at the airstrip. 

“No, I thought he left for the hotel with Morgan last night,” JJ told him.

“He told me he was riding back with you,” Morgan said. 

“I’m here, I’m here!” Spencer said, running over to the team. “Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s not usually like you. Are you okay?” JJ asked. 

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Just overslept.”

Gideon squinted at him. “You’re wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday.”

Spencer looked down at his rumpled clothes. “I, uh, I fell asleep reading last night and didn’t have time to change this morning.”

“Is that a hickey?” Emily asked him. Spencer’s hand flew up to cover the dark spot on his neck.

“No way, Pretty Boy has a hickey?”

Spencer’s face was bright red. “Shut up, Morgan.”

“So… Tell us about her!” JJ said.

“Yeah, who’s the lucky lady?” Morgan asked him.

“Um��”

“Guys. If Reid doesn’t want to tell us who he’s sleeping with, he doesn’t have to. As long as it isn’t interfering with his job.” Hotch gave Reid a pointed look. 

He shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Good. And I don’t want to hear any of you pestering Reid about it.”

The team climbed onto the jet. After everyone got settled, most falling asleep, Gideon took a seat next to Reid. 

“So, how was your night with Dr. (L/N)?” he asked.

“How did you-”

“You’re not that discrete, Spencer.” Gideon gave him a soft smile. 

Spencer smiled back. “She’s amazing. She makes me feel… normal. I don’t feel like I’m weird or just a brain with her.”

“She sounds like a lovely girl. Why don’t you want to tell the others about her?”

Spencer sighed, looking out at the clouds. “I guess I just want something for myself for a bit. I really care for (Y/N) and I know how invasive the team can be. I don’t want them to scare her away.”

“I don’t think they could scare her away if they tried. She’s perfect for you.”

~

“Never give up on something you can’t go a day without.” -Winston Churchill

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 13

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

If you’re new to Sapere Aude, please click the link above to start from the beginning. There’s so much going on right now that you’ll be way too confused to start from this point. Plus, there are some major bombshells that won’t be as fun if you read this and get a bunch of spoilers.

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Trigger Warning: There is a brief moment of physical abuse, it’s not much, but I definitely wanted to mention it and give a fair warning. 

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Disclaimer: I have no current affiliation with any other Via Imperii themed stories. Any claims that I have pre-read anything are false.

Word Count: 2,383

A/N: I know you’ve all been on the edge of your seats wondering what was going to happen, the answer is a lot. This is a pretty big chapter. I hope you enjoy!

Thanks to my pre-reading babes, @jessiembruno & @txemrn. And to @twinkleallnight for my lovely moodboard! 

Tags: Listed below, hit me up to be added or removed.

“Um...actually, it’s about the queen. Your majesty, you need to come with me, and we need to send some additional guards along with us.”

Liam’s face paled at Thomas’s words. “Where is my wife, Thomas?” He kept his voice quiet, so that he wouldn’t upset his daughter but his tone was stern and authoritative. 

“I believe she is at the old Fierro estate, and time may be of the essence.” 

“Li, go. We’re all here, we can take care of Eleanor.” Drake chimed in. 

Liam nodded. “Bastien, please send as many guards as you can immediately, and prepare the car for us. Thomas, go with him and tell him everything you know so that we can fill the team in.” Both men bowed and quickly exited the room. Liam walked over to Eleanor, sitting in the chair next to her. “Eleanor, I need to step out and pick up mommy, ok? Your auntie and uncles will be here to play with you until we get back.”

“Can I come with you?” She asked hopefully.

Liam took a deep breath before answering her. “I’m sorry princess, but I need to go by myself. But you have a very important job here. Since Valtoria is your home, you need to host our guests. Being a hostess is something you will need to do a lot when you become queen, so this will be wonderful practice. Do you think you’re up for it?”

She nodded her head rapidly. “Yes daddy, I will be the best hostess!”

“Good. Now go with Uncle Drake, and mommy and I will see you when we get home.” He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek as they pulled apart. 

Eleanor ran to Drake, taking his hand and pulling him toward the door. “C’mon Uncle Drake, I’m the hostess.” Drake chuckled before looking back at Liam and giving him a reassuring nod.

Liam waited a few moments to make sure that Drake and Eleanor were out of his path before rushing out of the room and toward the front entrance. The car was waiting for him, Bastien holding the back door open for Liam to enter. He jumped in and Bastien shut the door behind him, quickly jumping into the driver's seat. The SUV’s wheels squealed as it rushed toward the gates.

“How far out are the guards?” Liam asked. 

“We had a team training not too far from the estate, they should be arriving shortly. They have been briefed.” Bastien replied, looking at Liam through the rearview mirror. 

“Excellent. Would someone care to brief me now? Where is my wife?” Liam commanded. 

Bastien looked over at Thomas, who was seated next to him. “Thomas, please explain to his majesty the current situation.”

Thomas took a deep breath, his hands nervously balling into fists. “Of course. You see sir, there is an organization, the Via-”

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose, interrupting Thomas. “Thomas, please spare me. I know about the Via Imperii, Riley has been telling me about the meetings, the plans, everything.”

“Everything?” There was a slight crack in Thomas’s voice as he looked back at Liam. If she had told him everything, Liam knew who he was.

“Yes Thomas, everything, including our relationship. Right now, that is the last thing I am concerned with. I need you to tell me what they are doing to Riley, and what we need to do to get her out.”

“Unfortunately, I do not know much. I’m sure you were made aware of the conflict between her majesty and Lord Neville. Well it appears that he and Mara have lured her to the estate under the guise of a meeting with our chapter president. I don’t know what they are planning to do from there.” 

Liam’s jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair. “Bastien, remind me again why we didn’t dismiss Mara after her charge, the queen, my wife, was kidnapped at our wedding? It seems like grounds for termination to me.”

“She went through a thorough re-training process, and passed all of the associated tests. It was determined that she was able to adequately perform her duties.” Bastien replied. 

“Adequate is not acceptable for protecting the life of a Queen. We need exceptional as the bare minimum. She should have never been cleared to return to such a high profile duty. We will be having a meeting immediately to review protocol and standards.” The mixture of concern and rage swirling inside of Liam was becoming overwhelming, he was having trouble thinking straight. He turned to look out the window, taking deep breaths to regain some level of composure. 

***

“Since rational discussion is not going to be an option here, I guess we’re going to have to go to plan b, elimination.” Neville said to Mara as they sat across from each other, Riley tied to the chair at the head of the table. 

Riley laughed. “Sure, elimination. I bet that will work out great for you. It’s super easy to just make a reigning queen disappear.”

“We have been successful in doing it with two out of the last four queens. What do you think makes you so special?” Neville turned his attention to Riley, genuinely curious to know her reasons. 

“Well first of all, Eleanor was in on the plan, so she doesn’t count, so it’s actually one out of four. And second, I’m sure Liam and the rest of the guards, the loyal ones,” she looked poignantly at Mara, “are on their way. I’ve been gone long enough that Liam has definitely already had them ping the location of my phone.”

Mara pulled a phone out of her pocket and waved it in front of Riley with a smug grin on her face. “It has been powered off since I pulled it from your pocket as you were getting into the car.” She placed it on the table and slid it toward Riley.

“Any more smart remarks?” Neville asked, standing from his seat. He approached Riley, taking her face in his hand and leaning in close. “The fairytale is over Riley, and the ending isn’t quite as happy as you thought.”

Riley could feel her nerves starting to take over. Yes, Liam would be missing her right now, but how was he going to find her? She felt her heart rate increase, trying to keep her composure. She had been through this before. For as much as she hated Anton, she had to give him credit, he was much better at this than Neville was. If she could survive that, she could figure out a way out of this. 

She thought back to that night at the abandoned castle, she needed to channel that version of herself again. And she certainly couldn’t let Neville know he was getting to her. “What happened? You couldn’t find a woman to kiss you out of being a frog faced asshole? Or you did and it just didn’t work?”

“That’s enough!” the back of Neville’s hand abruptly met with Riley’s face, the force of the impact almost knocking the chair over. She moved her jaw back and forth several times, trying to assess the damage as best she could with her hands tied behind her back. “Mara, do we have anything to gag her with?” 

Before she could answer, there was a knock at the door. Neville and Mara looked at each other in confusion, nobody else knew about the plan. “Well?” Neville raised his hands in frustration. “You’re the security guard, go assess the damn threat!”

Mara jumped to her feet and opened the door to find Eleanor on the other side. “Ah Mara, I heard you and Queen Riley had stopped by, I’m so glad I was able to catch you.” She didn’t wait for Mara to respond before brushing past her and entering the room. “Lord Neville, I didn’t know you would be using one of our meeting rooms today. You didn’t clear it through the proper channels. What have we got here?” Eleanor walked straight past Neville and went right to Riley. She took in her appearance, noticing a red mark on her cheek and a small trail of blood running down her face. Her eyes were watering, but she hadn’t shed a single tear. Eleanor was impressed by the strength she was showing under these circumstances. She gave Riley a subtle wink before taking a seat and motioning for Mara and Neville to do the same. “Now, should we talk about where you plan to take things from here, considering you clearly haven’t thought this scheme all the way through?” 

“We’re going to do what this organization has done for years, eliminate the threat. Maybe we will be more successful in the king’s next social season, and get a cooperative queen in place.” Neville replied.

Riley took a shaky breath, but the idea of her being taken away from her family was too much for her to bear. The tears she had been holding back broke free, and she began sobbing. Eleanor walked back over to Riley and knelt down in front of her. “It’s alright dear, you aren’t going anywhere.” She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before standing and turning her attention back to her captors. “Are you insane? Do you have any idea how much time and careful planning goes into enacting an elimination plan? You can’t just decide to kill the queen and expect that everything will go off without a hitch!”

As if on cue, the door burst open and several members of the King’s Guard entered with their weapons drawn. Mara immediately drew her weapon and aimed it at Neville. “Hands in the air, Lord Vancoeur.”

“Drop the weapon Mara.” One of the guards commanded.

Mara continued acting as if she was assisting in the rescue efforts, ignoring the guard’s warning. “I’m glad you guys got here, I was having trouble calling for backup to save the -”

A loud pop filled the room, Riley flinched, keeping her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them, she saw Mara laying on the ground in a pool of blood as two guards rushed Neville and took him into custody. Two more pulled Eleanor away from Riley and forced her hands behind her back. “Stop!” Riley ordered, causing both guards to look up. “She is not a part of this, she was here rescuing me. Let her go.” The guards complied, and Eleanor went back to Riley’s side, quickly undoing the fastenings that bound her to the chair. As soon as she was free, Riley stood and rubbed each of her wrists before raising a hand to her face, gently placing it on the spot that Neville had hit, and moved her jaw back and forth a couple more times. She looked at Eleanor, her eyes welling up again. “You...you saved me.”

“Of course, dear. I told you I wouldn’t let them take you away from your family.” Riley wrapped her arms around Eleanor and pulled her into a hug. Eleanor could hear her hitched breathing and knew she had begun to cry. “It’s ok Riley, you’re safe now. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

***

Liam was lost in his thoughts, watching the scenery go by as they neared the estate. The sound of Thomas’s phone ringing took him out of his thoughts. He quickly moved his attention to the front of the car, listening intently to Thomas’s answers to the person on the other end. They were simple, one word answers, and he was unable to read any kind of emotion in his voice. “Well?” Liam said, before Thomas had even fully moved the phone away from his ear. “Is Riley ok?” The seconds it took to get his response felt like an eternity for Liam. 

“Yes your majesty, Riley is safe. Lord Vancoeur has been taken into custody, and Mara was killed. Queen Riley is safe and awaiting our arrival.” 

Liam breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in his seat. He was glad she was safe, but he needed to get there. He needed to see it for himself, to hold her, to kiss her. He needed to get her home where he could protect her. 

The car pulled up to the front of the estate, and before it could come to a complete stop, Liam had jumped out and ran to the door. He burst into the estate frantically sticking his head into every doorway looking for her. Finally, he approached a large sitting area with a fireplace running, and there she was, silently watching the flames dance. “Riley? Love?”

Riley blinked a couple of times before turning and meeting Liam’s gaze. “Liam…” her voice was barely above a whisper as she slowly stood to greet him. 

He rushed to her, immediately pulling her into his arms. He held her tightly as he kissed the top of her head. He pulled back, taking her face in his hands. The pressure of his touch on her still tender cheek made her wince in pain. Liam removed his hands and examined her face. “Riley, who did this to you?” He tried to keep calm, not wanting to cause her any more stress or pain.

“Stupid fucking Neville. I made some frog prince joke and he decided to heckle me with the back of his hand.” 

Liam clenched his jaw, and took a deep breath. He would deal with Neville, but for now, he needed to be with his wife. “Riley, I am so sorry that you had to go through this. I should never have let you do this. It could have been so much worse.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, he noticed the marks on her wrist from the restraints, and turned his head to kiss them softly. “But it’s not, because Eleanor, your mother, saved me.”

“My...why would she do that?”

“Because I couldn’t let you lose her.” A lump formed in Liam’s throat at the sound of the voice behind him. He hadn’t heard it in years, but he had never forgotten it. He turned around and as soon as they locked eyes, he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. “Hello, Liam.”

Permatag:

@anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @bbrandy2002 @chemist-ana​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emkay512 @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @tessa-liam @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Sapere Aude:

@burnsoslow @busywoman @gardeningourmet @ofpixelsandscribbles @tinkie1973

Liam x Riley:

@jared2612

Liam:

@amandablink @yourmajesty09

[marshmallowprotection]

Hey Kait… weird question but would you mind sharing how you were diagnosed? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but what you are describing sounds eerily similar to something I went through 5 years ago. But my doctors never figured out what it was

I'll put this under a Read More just in case the eating problems, bodily issues, weight mentions, or things that might make people uncomfortable of that nature.

So, for me, I spent months not knowing what was wrong with me because people do not guess that you have a rare disease right off the bat. My family has a history of Crohn's. So, that was one of the first assumptions. That got ruled out rather quickly. As did pretty much every other disorder that you can think of. I won't delve into the medical abuse and gaslighting that I suffered but lemme just say that getting back tests that say "You're fine! This is negative" is not what you want to hear when you're sick.

We ran every test that you can possibly check for stomach problems back when I still had some insurance that covered that stuff. If you ever want to know about specific tests for stomach disorders, just ask me, I've taken that exam, and all of them suck! You have to do a process of elimination for a lot of possible disorders. I actually went through everything and then a Nurse Practitioner brought up that it sounded like it could be Gastroparesis. So, I wound up getting the order to run that test.

Bear in mind, this was nearly 7-9 months later of test after test after test. The test for GP is a gastric emptying study. You eat something that morning, they run dye through you and sit in a machine while it studies how long your stomach works on food. There are people who have GP that can use their stomach to a certain %, there are people who have no % of digestion. Some people need feeding tubes, some people need diet changes, etc. Some people have flares that last for a long time and slow down, some people have constant problems like me.

I spent those months constantly being unable to eat while my stomach was on the cusp of imploding from the food sitting inside without the ability to escape. I lost over 120lbs within 6 months of that time and I am lucky to be alive. I don't know if you have GP, but the problems don't disappear overnight. There are good days and bad days, but it's a constant. There's a lot of stomach disorders, so with no details, I can't say for sure what you might've been dealing with! I'm sorry to hear you had a hard time.

[kalm5]

This how I kind of want Crosshair to be reunited with his brothers.

The had finally returned to Kamino. Obviously the report of failure to catch the rest of the Bad Batch reached back to the Imperials. They are not happy with the outcome. They are thinking that CT-9904 cannot meet the objectives of the mission parameters. Though he is following the orders. The Imperials want CT-9904 decommissioned. To many failures. Obviously they Kaminoans don’t want to decommissioned a clone. That is a huge expense of losing more clones. Even if CT-9904 is a defective. But CT-9904 has a sustained substantial injuries.

Crosshair is on edge. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. What is right? What is wrong? He is following orders like a good soldier. But there is something aggravating him. Like going after his brothers were wrong. Sometime he despises the Bad Batch. They are his only family. The ones that have his back. Then there was the comment that the kid said to him when they were in the holding cell. That it wasn’t his fault. That it was the chip that was causing him to do those things. What the hell did that even mean? Then when they were in the ship yard he noticed that Wrecker had a bandage on the side of his head. Was Wrecker okay? Even if managed to escape the grasps of the stupid Imperials and the squad they put him with that are useless. His brothers probably don’t want him back. The regs don’t understand him.

Nala Se was a scientist. Always proud of the production of the clones. It took a lot of work programming and making the perfect clone. A superior soldier and they were able to do so. But through the cloning process problems did occur. The natural process. The were the defective clones. Some did survive for very long. But there were some that were strong and had interesting characteristics. The mutations were sometimes slow to appear. The defective clones went through rigorous testing. Eventually they discovered that they were still capable. She would never show but she cared about the defective clones.

Nala Se knew that the clone army and her work was over. Omega was safe from Lama Su. There attempts to get Alpha back but the young clone was to much like the host. Then with the failure of CT-9904 trying to eliminate the rest of the Bad Batch and reclaim Omega, there was talk of eliminating the clone. She couldn’t believe that the new Imperial army want CT-9904 going after his team. She could also see that young CT-9904 was struggling. Even though the chip was amplifying there was some resistance somewhere. It was making CT-9904 very aggravated. She knew that she had to something. There was only a matter of time that Lama Su figures out that she was the one to prevent Omega from being returned to Kamino. She would return CT-9904 to the rest of the Bad Batch. She hopes that the rest won’t hold it against him. She thinks that Omega would calm the situation.

Crosshair was brought to the Med Centre. But he recognize these labs. He spent a lot of time in these parts. It not where the Regs get treated. He went through a lot of testing when he was ‘younger’. He was going to become a lab rat again. He thinks death would be much better. That probably going to happen. This is the first time ever since being on the field that he was unsuccessful at a mission. He really didn’t expect the team to get out the situation that he created. Crosshair didn’t want to plea for his life. But he was trying to formulate what to say. He was good at talking. That was left for Hunter and Tech. He was a sniper quiet was key. He protected his shooting eye. It fine if he lost sight in the other eye. He can still be functional. Then the long neck Nala Se entered the lab with a droid. Dread was rising out of him.

‘Time to sleep,’ said Nala Se

Crosshair knew he was being put down. ‘Make it painless.’

Nala Se didn’t have a lot of time. She was going to have work quickly. She caused an issue that would distract individuals from looking in her area. CT-9904 was laying the med bed. She gave Crosshair a mild sedative. Now she was going to remove the chip. Because of the bandages covering the clones face it can easily be covered up that the chip was removed. The was removed easily. Then the bandages would be removed. Then Nala Se gave the drug that would pretty much render CT-9904 dead. She had to declare the defective clone dead. Died of the injuries sustained. Then her next plan will be getting the clone of world. Nala Se going the young clone’s proper armour. She knew that he was going to need it.

Cliffhanger here……

My brain stopped working. This was more than I thought I would get out.

[vickyvicarious]

Moreau’s anger in the famous scene with Nate (“a 24yo genius w/ a problem with authority”) is scary. he’s so contained, saying things that coming from the usual bad guy of the week would be ranted, shouted - but he’s so controlled in his anger

So I was thinking about this ask a lot as I was watching the last two episodes of S3. Because it really is true, he is always so controlled. I counted how many times he raises/loses control of his voice and it really wasn't a lot:

At the end of the Big Bang Job, when Nate is going on and on about how he is framing Moreau. He goes from calm and amused to more and more frustrated, and - just once - raises his voice. He snaps, "Who ARE you?!" But then immediately pulls his face back under control. The penultimate picture on this post is literally one second after he yells; he reins it all back in.

When he just saw Eliot on TV petting a puppy and claiming the president held dogfights. When he turns to face Reberra and reassure him this is all under control, despite being obviously very fed up with the crew messing with his election, his voice - only once - goes down into a growl as he says "Tonight, you bury him at the debate. Tomorrow, he loses in what will be the closest election in years. Which frankly only helps legitimize you, so RELAX." Just on that very last word, the rest of the time he does a good job of sounding reassuring and even a little unphased.

When the election results are being counted. "Too close to call. TOO CLOSE TO CALL, how'd you let it get this far?!" This is pretty much the only time he rants in frustration, and even then he quickly pulls himself together. Puts on a convincing show of being unbothered moments later.

Even in that final confrontation with Nate, he finds himself at a loss for words, he is furious and unsure of what to do - but his voice stays quiet and intent. You can hear him seething, but only a few times. He doesn't really lose control per se, not until he is literally being dragged away. Right up until that very second he just gets thoughtful and is staring off into the distance, trying to process how this happened and what he can do to get out of it.

When you consider just how much the crew was pushing all of his buttons, that is not a lot at all. Definitely less than we would usually see from other villains. And that's not exactly a coincidence, because...

Moreau is someone who has built his entire empire on control.

He moves money around for other people, makes sure never to get his own hands dirty. Even the hitmen he sends are trained to not leave any evidence behind - that one guy they scared out with the fire alarm still took the time to clean the room and collect any shell casings, and Eliot confirmed that is expected for someone working for Moreau. He's perfected the art of not laying a trail of evidence, to the point that the crew had to use someone else's crimes to get to him both times they went up against him. They couldn't prove his criminal empire so they instead framed him for stuff the Italian had done. Then he just hid away in the country he'd bought and was doing fine. Once there, they couldn't expose his part in the election so they rigged it even more than he was, and took advantage of the greed of Reberra to get him to turn against him. Nate wasn't lying when he said "honestly, no [we stood no chance against you]."

Moreau doesn't work with people he doesn't know. He just won't do it. He manipulates and abuses his own people, as is evident with Eliot. The entire pool scene is rife with Moreau proving again and again and again that he is not willing to let anyone else hold the cards. He has it drilled into them that they can either be assets or liabilities, and everyone knows what he does to liabilities. People are terrified to turn on him, and pretty much no one willingly does. Moreau understands the value of public perception, so he makes sure that he is pandering to the UN and not immediately eliminating his rivals in San Lorenzo until the election is over, but it's very clear that he would not hesitate otherwise. The fact that he chooses to wait is extremely deliberate as well; he's calculated the odds, and hurting the crew isn't worth it. Yet. No matter how much he hates them, he is willing to wait. He doesn't let emotion rule him.

Even his body language - he smiles. He is deliberately relaxed when others are worked up or when the situation is tense. (Casually sips his drink as Hardison drowns in the pool, laughs at Nate's accusations about him being a terrible person even as he's losing the election.) When he's truly, truly furious, when things aren't going at all as planned - he goes still. In the Big Bang Job, he holds his hands together in front of him and doesn't make a move to step towards Nate. When Eliot is rushing him, he levels the gun and shoots the Italian with deliberate aim, then turns and leaves in a hurry, but by no means running for his life. Then in San Lorenzo, he goes still and dangerous several times when he knows he can't make a move against the crew yet, but the biggest example is when President Reberra signs his arrest warrant. Moreau just stands there, hands on the desk, quiet and still and so thoughtful. It's only, again, when he is literally being dragged away and he realizes there's nothing he can do that he finally loses his iron control and struggles to get away. Until then he always, always tries to stay calm and cool and even relaxed, projecting an unbothered image of implacable power.

It's one of the scariest things about Moreau, this complete control over himself and his people. It means he thinks things through, you just can't get him to react rashly. He's not someone you can con. So the team works around this by, and I love this - turning his perfect control from an asset into a liability. They know he will have the election news on lockdown, so they manipulate everyone else to believe it was their victory. They know he wouldn't risk harming them in front of the world's eyes, so they pretend to harm themselves. They know he has abused the system to lock up his rivals and take all their assets, so they do the very same thing to him. They literally don't do anything he hasn't already planned around (sure, they use methods he hasn't thought of as viable, emailing everyone in the country for example, but the core of the idea isn't anything new to him). They just figure out what he wants to avoid happening and then they make it happen, which only succeeds because he is so determined to ensure it doesn't. If he'd been more ruthless, more short-sighted... they couldn't have won.

[haloud]

things we could burn in one go (eminence) - chapter 8

also on ao3

Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Isabel Evans & Max Evans & Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Forrest Long/Alex Manes Additional Tags: post-s2, Canon Compliant, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Starts Forlex Ends Malex, Other Characters May Appear, Tags Subject to Update, Mutual Pining, Breaking Up, Getting Together

Chapter Summary: Forrest returns from his trip, and he and Alex clash over Michael’s presence in his life.

Excerpt:

Was Forrest right?

Was he taking advantage of Michael? No. His first instinct was no. Michael came to him when he was in need—something Alex still wasn’t letting himself stop to process.

But the thing Forrest said about power…

If he searched himself, if he had to put it in such terms: Michael did make Alex feel powerful. He always had. From the very first day, when Alex offered the only thing he had—the rebellious kindness he practiced mostly because his father wanted to stamp it out—and Michael took it, took it shy and suspicious, but then grew towards him like a sunflower. That made him feel powerful. And it would be dishonest to say he didn’t feel powerful every time he came and went and no matter what Michael was still there waiting when he returned, no matter how much, yeah, Michael made him feel weak, too, knew just the right words to say to cut the deepest.

Control was a commodity. Alex starved for it his entire life and gorged himself when it was available, and only now was he in a place where he could begin on the work of balancing himself out. Michael told him once that he never said no to him—how able was Alex to judge when they crossed such old, familiar lines worn away by the traffic they’d seen over the past eleven years? How much could Michael be trusted to see those lines either, or to tell him if they were crossed instead of just taking it?

They needed to talk. They always needed to talk. It never got any easier. And what the hell was all the talking for, if not…that thing Forrest was worrying about? Not cheating, no, but was there still some part of him that still dreamed his old dream of what peace looked like, Michael in the early morning, and birdsong after rain, and nowhere to be but here?

Sorry I’ve been so quiet. It’s been a pretty stressful few days. I love the pictures, and I hope your trip was fun.

Alex pressed send and sent a picture of himself and Buffy cuddling in the early morning along with it.

Forrest’s reply was almost instant.

 No problem, babe. It’s been great, but I’m also ready to be home…and see you again.  😉

He sighed. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he searched for the right words to explain the situation before Forrest walked right into it, to explain why he was sharing his home with Michael, to explain why Alex balked and deflected and talked his way around every suggestion that Michael could be on his own now, that he was healed enough to make do alone. Maybe Forrest wouldn’t understand, but Alex owed him at least that much. Right?

Looking forward to seeing you, too, he said, then dropped his phone onto his chest and ran a hand over his face.

The house was quiet around him. Michael was an early riser, but a stealthy one; thus far, even Alex’s hypersensitive hearing hadn’t been piqued or sent into an anxious, paranoid spiral by so much as the sound of a foot tread from rooms away. At first, the silence troubled Alex, brought up thoughts of Michael laying stuck in his bed afraid of disturbing Alex, afraid of him, but he’d started his own day only to find Michael’s already begun enough times now to find the quiet peaceful, thoughtful.

The buzz of his phone was jarring in comparison. He picked it up to check it.

 Oh yeah? Been lonely there without me?  😉  😉  😉

Alex threw an arm over his eyes and groaned.

He was saved from having to come up with a response by another message coming through quickly: Kidding—the first group just got called to board, so I don’t have time for all that. See you soon, babe.

Alex responded, See you soon. Sure you don’t need a ride from the airport? Call me if Wyatt flakes.

 I will. But I think it’ll be fine.

Okay. He hesitated again. This was his last chance to say something about Michael before Forrest was back in Roswell. But, chickening out, he just said, Call me even if you just don’t want to spend three hours in the car with him.

Forrest responded with a kissing emoji, and that was that.

Eventually, Alex got out of bed and got ready for the day. He’d taken to not wearing his uniform when off base in deference to Michael’s deep discomfort with it, and, though at times inconvenient, it was worth it to walk into the kitchen and see Michael at the table with a bowl of cereal, and for him to look up and smile at Alex instead of lean back and close off.

“Got any plans for today?” Michael asked as Alex checked his watch and grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter to eat on his way.

“Nothing much beyond work. Forrest is coming home today. He has a short layover in Denver, so between that and the drive from Albuquerque, he should get back to Roswell around the time I get off.”

“Oh. Right.”

Michael’s voice was flat, and Alex didn’t know what to do with it, so he stood at attention and waited for Michael to make the next move.

“Max will be devastated,” was all he said. In her basket in the corner, Buffy slept on.

Alex’s lips quirked up. “Maybe we can set up play dates for them. Honestly, Forrest would probably appreciate someone taking her to the park or something when he gets deep into writing or research.”

“Huh. I’ll let Max know.” He took the last bite of his cereal and stood to rinse it in the sink. Every day he regained a little more strength, but Alex’s keen eyes still couldn’t miss the uneven shakiness of his limbs or the hollowness around his eyes.

Alex checked his watch again. He needed to get going, but it was harder than he’d ever expected to leave Michael in the mornings, a thought that left guilty grit in the pit of his stomach. His heart and mind hit on a pattern he didn’t mean, a dangerous domestic assumption that wasn’t fair to anyone, not Michael, not himself, and not Forrest. The first few days, laying in the dark at night trying to locate Michael’s beat and breath from across the house, he’d told himself it was just worry for him that rooted those thoughts in his head, that if Michael was in his house for any other reason, things would be different. If it was a lie, well, Alex was comfortable with lying to himself.

“I’ll make myself scarce,” Michael was saying as he put his bowl in the drying rack.

“What?”

He shrugged and turned to face Alex, leaning his weight back against the counter. “I figured it’d be awkward if your boyfriend showed up and I was here. So I’ll make sure I’m gone by the time he gets back.”

“Michael, no.” Alex’s heart pounded sickly in his chest—Jones lying in wait to get Michael alone—Michael collapsing to the floor of his trailer, red pouring from his mouth, ears, and eyes—Michael powerless and pulled over on the side of the road to Sanders’s, apprehended and shoved in the back of a Project Shepherd van—"You can stay here as long as you need to—until we know it’s safe and the threats are eliminated. It’s not pity, it’s the same reason Max is living with Isobel right now, right? And she’s only got the one guest room.”

He was babbling, excuses flowing like wine. But no sacrificed dignity was too far if it meant keeping Michael safe—making him understand.

Continuing, he said, louder and firmer, “Frankly, no potential target should be alone right now. This shouldn’t wait until Thursday—I’m going to get in contact with Maria, Rosa, and Kyle today and work out a buddy system. Someone might have to double up; would it bother you if Maria—”

“Alex,” Michael interrupted softly. “It’s okay.”

Alex stopped in his tracks. When had he started pacing?

Michael stepped forward and, with only a heartbeat’s hesitation, so quick Alex might have imagined it, he put a warm, solid hand on Alex’s shoulder.

“If you think it’s safer, I won’t go anywhere.”

Swallowing, Alex nodded. His hand twitched at his side, but he didn’t pick it up to wrap it around Michael’s wrist and hold him there.

While they stood there, caught in the moment, dawn through the window catching dew on a spider’s web, Alex’s watch beeped little and tinny.

“Looks like you do gotta go somewhere,” Michael said, voice comfortingly casual, dropping his hand and stepping away.

“Right. I do. Look, we can just tell Forrest you were too sick to be alone. If he gets pissed, I’ll deal with it. It’s fine.”

“I don’t want to come between—”

“You’re not. I should have told him, but I didn’t, so I’ll handle the fallout. I have to go.”

“Okay.” Michael didn’t look comforted, but he didn’t fight. “See you later. I might pick up a half day at work, too. Not pushing myself,” he pre-empted.

Alex was now running too late to argue, so he had to leave it there, with just a text to Max at a red light: Michael going to work today. Call me if anything happens.

He didn’t hear from Max all day, and when he checked his phone after work, he had only a couple brief messages from Forrest confirming he made it to Denver and made it onto his connecting flight.

Made it to ABQ alright? He texted, and by the time he got home, he had a response.

 Yeah. Super tired. Maybe I should have asked you after all…I’m stuck in the car with Wyatt’s music, ugh.

Michael’s car wasn’t in the driveway like Alex might have expected if he’d gotten a ride to Sanders’s and come back, but Alex took a deep breath and postponed spiraling over anything until he confirmed whether or not Michael was here. Shouldering his bag and locking his car, he made his way inside, responding with his other hand. Ugh indeed. I hope you brought the good headphones for blocking it—and him—out.

 You know it, babe.

“Michael?” he called.

“In the den,” Michael replied.

There, Alex found him stretched out on the couch, ankles crossed and propped up on the arm so Buffy could sleep beneath them, a book in his hands that he set aside as Alex entered the room.

“How was your—what the fuck?”

Buffy’s head perked up at Alex’s voice, and she gave him a baleful look.

Michael grimaced. “Don’t freak out—”

“What the hell happened?”

In two strides, Alex crossed the space between them and grabbed Michael’s hand to examine it. He sported thick white gauze wrapped around his palm, and Alex had to fight down a scream of pure frustration.

“I just burned myself at work. It’s not as bad as it looks—Max just went overboard dressing it since I wouldn’t let him heal it.”

Alex scowled. Traitor.

“Have you had Kyle look at it? Why didn’t you let Max heal it? Why—”

“Alex! It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He sat up so their eyes were closer to level; Michael’s eyes were golden and earnest and exasperated and Forrest might already be back in Roswell and Alex couldn’t stand it.

Michael continued, “I’m not stressing Max’s heart or wasting Kyle’s time with something like this. Little injuries are common in the shop. I really am gonna be fine. You need to breathe.”

Following that advice, Alex closed his eyes, breathed in and counted, breathed out and counted. Of course something as small as a minor burn wouldn’t register to Michael. Alex had held those hands, felt them on his body, counted every tiny white scar and callous, claimed and cherished them when one was warped with pain and grief. This little injury was normal, routine, not anything to protect him from, not any proof of Alex’s failure. He needed to calm down.

“Your car isn’t here,” he said, changing the subject off of such heavy things.

“Yeah, Max picked me up and dropped me off. I could have driven, but you’re not the only person being overprotective right now.”

Hm. Maybe Max wasn’t such a traitor after all.

“And is Sanders—"

He cut off at the rattle of the doorknob. Buffy echoed the sound with a bark, and instinct had Alex reaching for his gun; he rotated himself to be between Michael and the door, even as Michael hissed in displeasure. But he couldn’t defend himself like this, without his powers, so Alex wasn’t taking any chances.

“Alex, hey, babe, you left the door unlocked!”

Oh. Alex dropped his head down and took his hand off his gun, running through his hair instead. Right.

“Hey, Forrest,” he called back, checking his phone as he spoke. No missed calls or messages. He caught Michael’s eye and grimaced as Buffy clambered off the couch and loped towards Forrest’s voice.

“Everything okay? It’s not like you to…”

Forrest froze in the mouth of the hallway, locking eyes with Michael on the couch, who in turn flicked his eyes to Alex like he had the answers to the awkward situation that just landed in their laps.

“Michael! This is unexpected. I didn’t realize you guys hung out,” Forrest said with impressively convincing but still false cheer. He tilted his head and shot Alex a questioning look, too, and defensiveness rose hackles in Alex’s head.

“He’s been sick, had a pretty bad fever a few nights in a row, so I told him to come over, since he lives alone and all,” Alex lied brusquely.

“Ah. Well. I hope you’re feeling better?”

“I think I’m gonna go chill outside,” Michael said, leaping up with a vigor he clearly didn’t possess at the moment, wobbling dangerously and, after righting himself, staggering toward the door.

Thank god his car wasn’t here so he could only get so far if he decided to take off.

As long as he didn’t suddenly rediscover the ability to teleport that almost killed him, that was.

“He’s been here for how long?” Forrest asked as soon as they were alone, voice still false and light. His eyes were lined and exhausted from travel.

Alex shrugged and, inclining his head to suggest Forrest follow him, he headed to the bedroom to put his gun in its safe. Buffy watched them go.

“A few days,” Alex said as they walked. “Like I said—he was sick, and he lives alone. Sorry, I should have warned you.”

“Oh. Well, I, uh. That’s okay, I guess. I didn’t know the two of you were that close?”

The safe beeped, and Alex stowed his firearm and closed it, spun the dial, and waited for the whir of the electronic lock engaging too. Then he turned to face Forrest and said, “We’re friends. We spend time together sometimes. You know, Thursdays?”

“Every Thursday.” Forrest’s voice was flat again. “Do you guys only hang out on Thursdays, or…?”

“We have different schedules, so it’s mostly Thursdays, but not always. Hell, Forrest, he was there when the two of us met, I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“That was months ago, and I’ve barely heard you mention him since we started dating, only seen him once, when we went to the bar. Remind me who comes to those little get togethers again? Or is it just you and Michael.”

“It depends on the week,” Alex said, growing increasingly defensive. His back was to the wall; he didn’t have much room to maneuver. His ears were ringing slightly. “But there are usually—we have the same entire friend group, hell, I invited you to a couple Thursdays, and you always said no! But, yeah, Michael hosts them, we hung out one on one a few fucking times, should I start giving you a numbered list of my known associates, or what? Fucking hell, Forrest.”

“Okay, okay, God. No, I don’t care who you see, I just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know, you’re exes! You’re—you’re almost more than that, even; I may not know the whole story, but you have unfinished business or whatever! I know your song was about him. So the idea of you two spending a ton of time together makes me insecure. And I know you can handle yourself, but I worry, with Guerin being—"

Alex drew back at that. “Guerin being what? He’s not dangerous just because he doesn’t meet your perfect standards, holy shit, Forrest.”

His own voice whispered wasting his life nastily in his ear, but he shoved it down. That was guilt for another time; right now his energy was better spent defending Michael from whatever the fuck accusation Forrest was trying to point his way.

“Right, right, I know.” Forrest ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Sorry, it just slipped out.”

“That doesn’t really make it better,” Alex snapped back.

Forrest sighed heavily. “I know. I know. I’m sorry, I was just really taken aback seeing him here after being gone—and you being so distant. Can you see how that might feel? Even though I trust you?”

Alex took a deep, cool breath. Yes, he could see it. He’d sat with the guilt and anxiety about it for days, even as he’d been unable to let go of Michael in his grasp. He could at least be gentle about Forrest’s reaction now. He reached out and took his hand and said, gently:

“Michael and I used to date, yes. But we’re friends now, and nothing else.”

But no matter how sincere he tried to be, Forrest’s face told him something in there was hollow. Alex’s stomach twisted.

Even if, the thought intruded, even if he did decide to cheat, he wouldn’t put Michael through all the hiding and sneaking and secret-keeping it would take, wouldn’t do that to him. Again. He shoved that thought away with force, before it could get its claws in him, as nauseous with stress as he already was.

A brief smile flickered across Forrest’s face. “Okay. Thank you. I trust you, okay? I do. I’m sorry for getting all controlling.”

He leaned up, and Alex kissed him lightly.

“Hey, now that Michael’s gone…” Forrest raised an eyebrow and tugged Alex’s hand lightly in the direction of the bed. “I was hoping we could have a date night in? Celebrate my homecoming? As long as you don’t have any plans, that is, I missed you and wanted to do something a little spontaneous…”

“Hold on, he stepped outside to let us talk, he didn’t leave leave. He’s staying until he’s out of the woods with whatever he’s got.”

The glitter that had sprung up in Forrest’s eyes winked out again. “He looked fine to me.”

“He almost passed out when he stood up! I’m not leaving him by himself while he’s sick. That doesn’t mean we can’t still go out—”

“And what, I’ll have you home by ten with a nice chaste kiss on the doorstep? Or we can go back to my place, where Wyatt will be playing Xbox in the den.”

This was the sharpest Forrest had ever spoken to Alex, and his mind spun blank tape trying to come up with the appropriate reaction. Where was this coming from? Had Alex crossed such a line, gone so far that Forrest wouldn’t trust him at all? What about his reaction to Michael bled so far out of the boundaries he tried to draw, betrayed his heart so badly with no regard for what he knew he should want? What was wrong with him?

Forrest continued, just as piercing, “Or would we still come back here? Because I figured that’d be off the table, since you’ve gotten pissed any time I even hinted we might do anything with someone else within restraining order distance, but I’m more than happy to fuck with Guerin in the next room.”

Shock dropped Alex’s jaw at that one. “What the hell is your problem tonight? If this is how insecurity looks on you, maybe I don’t want to fuck tonight anyway. Maybe we should go out some other night.”

“I just don’t get why he has to be here, and not at his sister’s! Or hell, his girlfriend’s? Does she know he’s here?”

Utterly out of patience, guilt firmly faded in the face of budding fury, Alex snapped back, “Forrest, you are more social than this dumpy town knows what to do with. You’re involved in like four events every weekend, half of them at the Wild Pony, you cannot tell me you didn’t get that Maria and Michael broke up the first three times someone told you.”

“So his new girlfriend’s, whatever.”

“What, just because he’s bi, he has to jump right into—”

“That’s not what this is about, that’s not fair, Alex!”

“Okay! Fine. But what is it about? Because…”

Alex’s heart pounded harder as he realized what had his anxiety rising so fast and thick in his throat. Forrest set the tone and pace of their relationship, even if he set it as slow as he thought Alex needed, and Alex let him because Forrest was the one with dating experience, the one who knew how these things were supposed to work. But…

Swallowing hard, Alex said, “Because if this is you saying I’m choosing Michael over you—if you’re trying to tell me I can’t be friends with my ex, that’s a hard line for me. That’s not your call. I’ve never hidden how important Michael is to me from you, and it’s not on me if you elected not to notice. You’re not turning this on me when he needs my help.”

Forrest scowled and raked his fingers through his hair. “Never, huh? ‘It was a long time ago’ ring a bell to you? Never mind. Whatever. Just…you’re too nice, Alex. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of by a deadbeat ex or friend or whatever he is.”

“Deadbeat?” Alex whisper-shrieked. “I just told you he’s my friend, and you, what, you have to tear him down because of that? The only goddamn thing you know about him is what he has the audacity to Google next to you when you’re writing your oh-so-important Nazi fanfic, so maybe hold off on the judgment.”

Forrest’s eyebrows climbed towards his hairline as Alex spoke, and by the time Alex was done he was storming out of the bedroom, Alex on his heels. “Okay, sure. Yeah, that’s it, I’m just jealous of the guy who hangs around you begging for scraps because you two used to get your dicks wet and he can’t move on like you did. Whatever. That’s none of my business, right. I do have eyes, Alex. I see what’s going on. But I’ll see you around some other time, once you’re over the power trip he gives you.”

“Forrest, wait. Forrest!”

“I’ll see you around, Alex. Buffy, come on, girl,” he called with a whistle, barely stopping to get her leash on before storming out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

And then Alex was alone in the entryway, watching Forrest leave through the window, stalking right past Michael huddled in a deck chair without a glance, and Alex’s jaw clenched harder when Forrest slammed his car door shut too and sped away.

Fuck. Fuck him. This wasn’t their first fight by any means, but the part of Alex that suspected he was too fucked up for an easy, normal relationship said maybe it was their last.

Would that be so bad? Would Alex actually miss Forrest, or would he miss the kind of relationship Forrest gave him, the kind that felt like what he should want, the kind that made him happier than loneliness did all the time except when it didn’t?

Okay, but now wasn’t the time to think thoughts like that, not in the moment, not so immediately, with hurt and anger still pumping red inside him. Especially not when the fault was largely Alex’s fault for not giving him warning in advance. Now was the time for deep breaths and not throwing things against the wall, no matter how much he might want to.

And as the fury left him, bit by bit, as his pulse slowed and his muscles relaxed and the clock again ticked louder than his breathing, it left this behind:

Was Forrest right?

Was he taking advantage of Michael? No. His first instinct was no. Michael came to him when he was in need—something Alex still wasn’t letting himself stop to process.

But the thing Forrest said about power…

If he searched himself, if he had to put it in such terms: Michael did make Alex feel powerful. He always had. From the very first day, when Alex offered the only thing he had—the rebellious kindness he practiced mostly because his father wanted to stamp it out—and Michael took it, took it shy and suspicious, but then grew towards him like a sunflower. That made him feel powerful. And it would be dishonest to say he didn’t feel powerful every time he came and went and no matter what Michael was still there waiting when he returned, no matter how much, yeah, Michael made him feel weak, too, knew just the right words to say to cut the deepest.

Control was a commodity. Alex starved for it his entire life and gorged himself when it was available, and only now was he in a place where he could begin on the work of balancing himself out. Michael told him once that he never said no to him—how able was Alex to judge when they crossed such old, familiar lines worn away by the traffic they’d seen over the past eleven years? How much could Michael be trusted to see those lines either, or to tell him if they were crossed instead of just taking it?

They needed to talk. They always needed to talk. It never got any easier. And what the hell was all the talking for, if not…that thing Forrest was worrying about? Not cheating, no, but was there still some part of him that still dreamed his old dream of what peace looked like, Michael in the early morning, and birdsong after rain, and nowhere to be but here?

A knock hesitated on the edge of Alex’s hearing, then came again, a little firmer, and anxiety propelled Alex down the foyer to answer it. Michael was still out there—something could have happened to him—or he could have left—Alex would call Isobel in to look for him, that was the backup plan, but—

Luckily, his front hall wasn’t long enough for him to truly get into a spiral; and even luckier, it was Michael at the door. Alex’s shoulders slumped with relief.

“You didn’t have to knock,” he said, stepping aside to let Michael back in.

Michael shrugged. “Wasn’t sure if you’d locked up in case Long decided to come back uninvited.”

With a snort, Alex closed the door and double checked both locks this time around. It really wasn’t like him to leave anything unlocked, but he’d pencil that freakout in for later.

That reminded him, though. “Speaking of locking up, here.” He opened a drawer in the little hall table and tossed Michael a spare key. “If you’re going to be going into work, or even just going out to hang out with Max and Isobel or Maria or someone.”

Michael caught it, but then he just stared at it like it was a shaken can of soda about to pop. “I, uh, kind of figured I’d be getting out of your hair.”

No! Alex wanted to shout, his already frayed nerves colliding with the visceral thought of Max’s healing failing or reversing somehow and Michael dying alone on the floor of his trailer. But he kept his voice level when he spoke, “I thought we talked about this.”

“We did! But I thought, with Forrest—”

“He can get pissed at me all he wants. The important thing is that we don’t know what Jones might try next, and we don’t know how what he did to you works, and as long as your powers aren’t back to normal…”

“I don’t want to—”

Heart rabbiting in his chest, Alex burst out, “Look, I get that you don’t want to be here, but my first priority is your safety, and—!”

“Of course I want to be here!” Michael interrupted. His eyes were wide and wild, hair a halo around his face.

“You—”

Both of them were panting like they’d run for miles, done anything but the running away and around each other they’d done their whole lives. The setting sun lined Michael in gold, slanted across the floor and the walls and got in Alex’s eyes but left the rest of him untouched.

Alex licked his lips and tried to speak again. “You don’t want to leave?”

Raking his hand through his curls, Michael replied, “Of course I don’t. I never want to leave. I want…” He spread his arms wide in a helpless gesture. “I don’t even know. Everything I’ve always wanted! But before anything else, I just want you to be happy. I’d never forgive myself if I destroyed your life even more than I already have.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex demanded. “Destroy my life? I’m the one who put you in my father’s path—I’m the one who—”

“No, Alex.”

He stepped forward like he might reach out. Alex wanted him to, but. What was he allowed to want? How had they gotten here, to this point, again or for the first time, and Alex still didn’t know the answer?

“That’s ancient history,” Michael said gently. “You could never destroy anything, you’re…”

Alex let out a harsh laugh. “Have you met me?”

“Alex.”

“I literally went into the business of destroying things and chose it four times since, even after it destroyed a part of myself.”

Furious tears blurred his vision, blurred Michael, and it only made him angrier and more desperate. What didn’t he understand?

“Yeah, and I think that sucks!” Michael said, chest rising and falling like it might if he was laughing, but the sound he made was more like hailstones, heavier and colder than rain. “But I—I’ve made my own sucky choices, too, I’m not letting you take credit for them just so you can bury yourself with them.”

“You were the one who started talking about destruction. I’m not letting you do that either,” Alex accused. “What could you possibly be destroying except yourself? I’m the one keeping you here.”

“Really? Like I didn’t just punch a hole through your relationship just by hangin’ around? I’m no good and you know that, Alex, you should—”

His heart fluttered so fast he had to clear his throat before he could talk.

“Should just walked out that door. And he took his dog,” he said breathlessly.

A beat of silence followed. Then, the corner of Michael’s mouth twitched—Alex’s eyes dropped to watch it—and he dissolved into disbelieving giggles, leaning back against the door like he needed it to hold himself up.

When he could speak again, he thumbed a tear away from the corner of his eye and said, “What are we doing here, Alex?”

“I—don’t know. I never know what I’m doing.”

“That’s not true.”

“Okay, emotionally,” Alex allowed. “Forrest wanted to date me, and he’s so normal, I thought I could, I don’t know, follow his lead and things would just slot into place. But I’m starting to think it doesn’t work that way.”

“I gotta tell you, Alex, you’ve never been great at follow the leader,” Michael said, so gently Alex almost felt it on his skin, a palm cupping his cheek.

“But I can try. I can learn new things,” he said. “So—what about your lead? What, what are we doing here?”

Michael swallowed, the apple of his throat bobbing.

“I’m as clueless as you,” he said. “And I’m not ashamed to say shit scared, either. There’s a lot of things with you and me I’ve spent a long time telling myself either won’t work out or shouldn’t. I’m scared of all the shit I’ve said before. But some of it—a lot of it stands. I wanna be good for someone. I wanna be good for you, even if I know I’ll never be perfect—”

“You don’t have to be perfect. Nobody’s perfect,” Alex breathed.

“Right. That’s what they tell me.”

The two of them balanced on the edge of a knife, barely enough oxygen between them to sustain them both without sharing. There were always two ways this could go. The paths diverged again and again and again and they turned away from the clear path so many times it made the both of them half-feral. But, inevitable, like the summer sun, like gravity and escape velocity, here they were, again, at the crossroads.

Michael swallowed again, then his lips parted, then again.

“What do you want to say, Michael?” Alex asked.

“I want to tell you that I love you. That I have for a long time.” His voice cracked. “And that, no matter what happens, I always will. But I don’t know what to do with it, after this long, and now that things have been good between us, what if we fuck it up again? What if—”

Alex’s mind whirled, with words he thought he’d never hear, with the accusations Forrest had hurled his way, about power and control and all those things that, like Michael’s heart, Alex had far to go to wield responsibly, but here was a greater truth:

Alex had never been great at talking.

He seized the front of Michael’s shirt in both fists and hauled him in for a kiss.

Michael gasped against his mouth. His lips were hot, all of him burned, blazed against Alex wherever they touched, and they touched, as Michael relaxed against him, his hands grasping Alex by the elbows and sliding up to his shoulders, the sides of his neck, holding him there as they swayed, mouths locked together. He tasted just as Alex remembered. A cascade of shudders washed down his spine and washed away every other sensation.

They kissed in the sunset sunlight, in Alex’s home in front of the front windows, and Alex buried his hands in Michael’s hair and devoured him in the open, away from any place he used to hide him, under bedsheets, in anonymous rooms, in the back of his head when he was sure he was alone. When they pulled apart, they came back together, both of them insatiable, until Alex’s lips buzzed and the ache from standing too long crept in.

Michael was wobbly too, so Alex took him by the hand and pulled him deeper inside.

“We should probably keep talking,” Michael rasped.

“We’ve got a lot of time for that. As much as we need,” Alex promised.

He knew his priorities, now. That was a promise he’d never break again.

“Forrest—”

“If he didn’t mean to break up with me when he left an hour ago, I’ll take responsibility,” Alex dismissed.

“Okay, okay.”

When Alex glanced over at Michael, he was smiling and shaking his head.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just forgot how much I like a man who takes charge.”

At that, Alex had to laugh too, and the sound came out so different, light and giddy, that he surprised himself.

“Bullshit,” he said. “After all this time, you think you still have to flirt with me?”

Michael tugged him by their joined hands. They’d only made it as far as the den and they were kissing again, just long enough to get them buzzing again.

“Only ‘cause you like it,” Michael murmured against his lips. “It’s a crowd pleaser.”

“I love it,” Alex confirmed, so soft he shaped the words more than he said them, but they were loud to him—Michael’s face changed, and Alex knew they were loud enough.

[mrvltwimagines]

Hidden Love

EMILY PRENTISS X READER

SUMMARY: You were relatively good at hiding your feelings, until the one you were hiding your feelings from gets in a sticky situation.

WARNINGS: Season 3, Episode 2 spoilers, but nothing triggering!

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

PROMPT: Can I get a Prentiss x reader where Prentiss is in danger and reader like pushes her out of the way or something without thinking and gets hurt and then angst ensues ending with a feelings reveal and fluff I guess?

The team was growing desperate during this case. The unsub had managed to already kill four women, and we knew as much that he already had a new victim. Your brains wracked trying to figure out the connection between the victims, seeing if you could figure out where he’s grabbing them from. A policeman walked into the room we were in, letting us know that another lady had been taken.

“What do we know?” Derek asks him.

“Her name was Claire Thompson. Her husband tried to reach her on the cell phone, and when she didn’t pick up, he drove to the department store. Her car’s in the parking lot, but she’s not inside,” The policeman filled you all in, letting us know that the husband was in the other room. Spencer grabbed J.J. and the two of them left the room, going to talk with the husband to see if they can figure anything out with what he knows.

“I had the department store uplink the security footage to you analyst in Quantico,” He finished. Hotch nodded at him, dismissing him before we all turned to each other, knowing we’re one step closer to figuring things out. Derek quickly called up Garcia, hoping she had found something on the tape that would be useful.

“Hey baby girl, tell me something I want to hear,” he speaks, getting a small chuckle out of me and a weird look from the chief of police we were working with. She clearly said something flirty back by Derek’s reaction, before he got a bit more serious.

“Did you locate the missing girl on the security footage?” he asks. Within seconds, footage was pulled up on the computer in front of us. We all studied what was going on within it, looking for any minor things that would help us get closer to finding the unsub.

“She doesn’t seem to be on anyone’s radar,” Spencer inputs.

“Look,” Derek speaks up, “Who’s the kid?” We watch as a kid approaches her, concluding that the lady only has a two-year-old daughter and not what looks to be a ten-year-old boy. The boy looked to be lost and asking her for help.

“Garcia, this all you got?” Derek asks into the speaker phone.

“That’s it, and then they turned down a hallway without any security cameras and we lose them.”

While the chief of police thought maybe the kid was genuinely a missing kid, Hotch was quick to jump in saying he believed that the kid was not a missing child, and instead a kid that’s doing whatever necessary to please his father.

“All the abductions and disposals have been timed around school. I thought the unsub might work in the system, but what if this guy is actually using his own son to lure his victims?” he questioned. We were all silent after that, letting the information sit in. It would make sense and with the physical footage of it happening, it sort of put the pieces together. 

After figuring out the abduction and dumping grounds, on top of what kind of vehicle the unsub might be driving, the team set out different ways to try and catch this guy. You’d noticed Emily hadn’t been too vocal throughout any of this, and all you wanted to do was ask if she was alright but you knew now wasn’t the time. 

“Alright, tell me if I’m in the wrong here, but we’re not getting anywhere focusing on the unsub, maybe we should try focusing on the son?” J.J. inputted, “If he really is using his son, wouldn’t the trauma manifest more clearly on the boy?” 

You were quick to call up Garcia after bringing up to the team that you may need a list of all the children in area that we’re targeting.

“Talk dirty to me,” she answers, and for some reason you couldn’t help the flush that ran through your face. Emily smirked at your red exterior, everyone else finding it just as funny.

“Garcia, I need a list of every grade school in the third ward and Wauwatosa,” you requested. You could hear her typing in the background while telling you all that the third ward has one public grade school, but four private schools that draw from that area. In Wauwatosa, there were nine public schools and 3,200 students.

“Can you also get me a list of every guidance counselor that deals directly with the student body in that area?” She agreed, saying she would send it over as soon as possible, both of you hanging up your phones, “We need to present these counselors with the profile of the troubled kid,” you determined. You all split up after that. Hotch and Derek went with each other, J.J and Spencer went with each other, leaving you and Emily to be partners in literal crime.

“You know you’re really cute when you blush,” she compliments you out of nowhere as you walked from your car to the current elementary school that you were at. You couldn’t help but blush again at the compliment, making her laugh a bit as she held the door open for you to walk in. You thanked her, not knowing whether you were thanking her for the compliment or for holding the door open.

You both quickly made your way to the guidance counselors office, flashing your badges at her and quickly beginning the question process.

As soon as you got back to the police station, it was made aware to everyone that there was a lot more work to do, considering the amount of kids that fit our profile. As much as your mind wanted to be fully on the case, it was also running wild at how closely you and Emily were sitting to each other. You’ve been trying to harbor a crush for her that formed just a few months into beginning to work with the BAU which was just over a year ago. You’d done well, not making any noticeable efforts or moves that would throw suspicion to anyone on the team that you were growing more and more in love with her. It was hard, to say the least. Every time she got hurt or would need to miss a case due to her own issues, you wanted to bail and only focus on her, but you couldn’t. Relationships were deeply frowned upon between coworkers, for obvious reasons. Almost like she could feel your constant gaze flashing between her and the case files in front of you, she turned her head and looked you in the eyes, sending you a questioning gaze.

“Are you alright?” she whispered out, leaning even closer to you to try and keep your conversation private. You nodded quickly, your cheeks burning at have been caught, insisting that you were just thinking.

“Claire Thompson has been found dead,” a policeman announced while peaking his head into the conference room we were in. All of your shoulders fell, feeling a bit defeated that you hadn’t figured the unsub out before he was able to kill her. He dumped her in an abandoned alley surrounded by trash and overgrown weeds, her heart carved out like the rest of the victims.

“This is a different area than the dumpsites of the other victims, isn’t it?” Emily questioned.

“He’s getting smart. He knows where all our manpower will be so he’s changing locations.” Spencer offers up.

“Well how long before he changes when and where he abducts them?” Morgan comments, obviously asking a rhetorical question that none of you would be able to answer.

You all quickly made your way back to the station as Spencer began to map out all the abductions and dumpsites. It was determined that where the bodies had ended up, the unsub needed to know the area pretty well, because they sure as hell didn’t end up where they did by accident.

“So we go back to the schools, we eliminate the third ward, and we target problem kids whose fathers have held blue-collar jobs over the last ten years,” Hotch spoke up. Spencer was quick to cut in, letting you know what he was thinking.

“What if it’s not a problem child? Sometimes when a parent is unstable, especially if the other ones out of the picture, you’ll do anything to be the perfect child.”

“Like help your father abduct women?” Emily asked with a frown on her face.

“They’re never late for school. Even with the abductions, the disposals of the bodies, it’s always timed perfectly so the kid will be on time to school. I don’t think the killer would care, I think the kid would.” You thought about what he was saying. It was true that someone as out of control as our unsub was, he wouldn’t care about schedules, but if the kid was trying to please his parent in any way, he sure as hell would care. You instinctually looked at Emily to see what she was thinking, just to find her already looking your way. You nodded at each other, understanding that you were thinking the same thing.

Before you knew it, you and Emily were at one of the Elementary schools that the unsubs child could be attending, and you were back sitting in the counselor’s office.

“He’s a kid that’s a model student,” You start off the profile to the lady.

“Not just straight A’s, though. It’s someone who tries to please in a way that teachers have probably talked about.” Emily offered up.

After a bit more profile description you were given one name, David Smith. A kid with just his dad in the picture due to his mom leaving after the dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness. It explained the anger the father might hold, and the need for David to feel he needs to prove himself to please his dad. You both quickly thanked her, calling the team and filling them in before calling Garcia and asking for an address. You were close to their house already, and didn’t hesitate to make your way over there. The team were, if anything, only ten to fifteen minutes away from you so back up was on its way.

“We need to go in right away. You stay back and I’ll go in, okay?” Emily ordered off. You stumbled on your words, hating her plan. She was willingly going to go in the house by herself when you both know just how angry and temperamental the dad is?

“Are you crazy, Em? I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.” You bark back. You couldn’t help but hold your breath at the feeling of one of her hands caressing your face, thrown off a bit at the feeling of her skin on yours.

“I’ll be fine, I have a plan, and we know he already has a victim so he’ll be distracted. Please trust me on this.” You nodded, not even thinking about what you just agreed to, only being able to focus on the feeling of her hand on your face and the coldness that swept over your cheek once it was gone. 

“I’ll give you a signal the second I have probable cause for you and the rest of the team to enter the house, but until then I need you to just keep the perimeter secured,” she ordered. The feeling in your gut made a wave of nausea float throughout your body, but you hid it and simply nodded, “I’ll be fine, y/n.”

Before you knew it, Emily was knocking on the unsubs front door and you saw the boy in the security footage answer it. You both knew that the father and his current victim were most likely in a secluded room where none of the neighbors would be able to hear any screaming or calls out. Your heart rate sped up as the door closed behind Emily, and you couldn’t help yourself from getting closer to the house to look through the windows, keeping an eye on her no matter what. 

The team still wasn’t here and your nerves were going crazy. The second you lost sight of her as she walked down a different hallway, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You quietly made it to the front door, opening it and closing it behind you. You saw the boy sitting in one of the living room chairs, watching tv. You snuck behind him and followed the hallway that you last saw Emily walking down. There was only one door slightly open, and peeking through you could see her sneaking down the staircase. You could also see the wide eyes of the victim as she shook her head no at Emily, like she knew something neither of you did. You quickly stormed in behind her, just in time to see the unsub leap at her. Without thinking, you threw yourself on him, both of you toppling onto the concrete. The feeling knocked the wind out of you, and he gained control, able to land a hard hit to your face. Emily quickly got control of the situation before anything more could happen, and your unsub was in handcuffs with a shot to the foot quicker than you had time to fully gain your breath back. With Emily’s focus being on the unsub, you finally gained the strength to stand up and begin to untie the victim. You still felt a bit dizzy, but knowing you had saved Emily from a harsh attack made you feel better.

The rest of the team barged through the door just then, relieved to see both you and Emily were fine, grabbing the unsub and pulling him outside. You let yourself fully grasp the situation that just happened as Spencer consoled the victim and lead her outside too.

“y/n, what the fuck was that?” Emily asked, clearly distraught, “You were supposed to stay outside and wait for backup!” 

“Em, he was about to attack you!” you exclaimed, upset that she was mad at you, “what would have happened then if I hadn’t have come inside? You would’ve been on your own and hurt with a distraught murderer!” just the thought made you wince. Things could’ve turned out way worse than they did. Instead of Emily being harshly attacked, you were just left with a bruise on your cheek and a small backache.

“I hate that you did that. I hate that you didn’t follow my instructions,” she expressed, coming up to you and gently tracing the redness on your cheek from the punch.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt, Em,” you whispered out, “I’ve already had to watch for close to a year, a fair share of times where you’ve gotten hurt and every single time it’s like a chunk of my soul chips away. I hate seeing you hurt, especially if there’s something I could’ve done to prevent it,” you admitted. By the look on her face, you could tell she was still upset, but taking your words to heart. Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned forward a bit, kissing her quickly before backing away and instantly regretting your actions. She was surprised to say the least, but your heart was beating out of your chest. Why did you do that? It was almost like your body fully acted out without consoling your mind. It was truly a heart over mind situation.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Em,” you whispered, quickly backing away and heading back out to the SUV you both came in. The team had tried to ask you questions, but you couldn’t fathom talking to anyone at the moment. By the look on your face and your ability to walk past them without acknowledging your questions, they could obviously tell something was wrong. You looked back towards the front door of the house just in time from Emily to walk out, her face staying neutral as she answered all the questions that you were probably asked to begin with. 

Your heart ached thinking about how she looked after you kissed her. She didn’t necessarily look upset, but more surprised and distraught. Have you ruined everything now? Is she mad at you? Is this going to make things awkward now? It was ten minutes later when the drivers’ door opened, and you fully expected it to be one of the other team members, but sucked in a breath at the sight of her settling into the seat and closing the door. 

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” she asked, not even a tremor in her voice.

“I’m sorry, Em. My emotions just got ahold of me and I acted without thinking,” you admitted, your eyes filling up with tears as you thought of the repercussions you could face. You jumped a bit at the feeling of her hand on your thigh, getting your attention to turn back to her as she looked at you with soft eyes.

“I like you, y/n. Believe me when I say that. I have liked you for months now, and I’m nowhere near upset that you kissed me, I was just surprised,” she said. Your eyes grew wide at the confession, your heart doing a happy skip as you took in her words.

“Really?” you asked, still unable to believe that any of this was actually happening. A small smile crossed her face as she took the lead this time, leaning in and kissing you, but with more intention this time. You separated and could feel the blood rush to your face for the thousandth time today, a small smile gracing both of your faces. 

“So what does this mean?” you asked, the worry growing a bit when you thought of the grand plan of how your relationship would work.

“I may have had to tell the team what happened due to them seeing you as distraught as you were,” she whispered, still gently holding your face in place so you wouldn’t look away. You scrunched your face up at the sound of that, “Hotch said it took us long enough to realize we both liked each other.”

Your eyes grew wide as a laugh escaped her mouth. They had known? You thought you did such a good job at hiding your feelings!

“I say we can talk about details later, maybe over dinner?” she asks. This time you couldn’t hold the large smile from forming on your face as you frantically nodded your head.

“I’d love that,” you whispered out. You regretted wasting all the months not telling her how you felt, but now that you know it’s mutual and there’s a large potential of being in the relationship that you’ve wanted so badly, you’re thankful that you hadn’t listened to Emily’s orders earlier or you wouldn’t have all of this. You were finally able to express your feelings and having her express hers back was a surreal thing. Your mind settled, along with your body as you both buckled up and she began to drive back to the station so you could grab your things and head back to the jet to get home. You smiled the whole way, excited for what was about to happen. You were finally going on a long-awaited date with the woman you loved, and you couldn’t be any happier.

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 3: Sun’s Out Buns Out

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

Let the pining begin.

@lumosinlove

“Oh my god, there’s ducks!” Finn said excitedly, pointing to the ducks swimming in the pond nearby. Their next challenge was taking place in a small park on the outskirts of the city, which made Logan a little nervous. He was just getting used to the setup of the kitchens, and now he had to deal with this. Finn let out an aww as a group of ducklings followed their mom. “Look at ‘em, they’re so cute.”

Logan looked warily at the setup of grills a few feet away. “I don’t think we’re here to look at ducks.”

“Good morning, recruits!” Dorcas called, waving them over. Leo stood beside her, hair turned golden in the sunlight. Logan blamed the reason he was suddenly too hot on the weather.

Ah, yes. That new development Logan refused to think about too hard.

He was happy with Finn. They’d been happy together for years now.

So why was he crushing on Leo like he did with Finn back in college?

Logan wasn’t blind – he knew the signs well enough after pining for Finn for five years. He just didn’t know what to do with these feelings. And they’d learned from all the miscommunication and wasted time in college – he and Finn told each other everything now.

He just wasn’t sure he could tell Finn this.

How would that conversation go? Hey I know we’ve been happily together for three years now but I also kind of want to kiss that tall blond guy who’s been teaching us how to cook. 

Yeah. That would go over well.

“Today we’re going to be testing your creativity by having you make your own burgers! We’ll both give you examples, but you’ll need to come up with your own original ideas for this challenge.” Leo stated, dumping ground beef into a bowl. “I’m going to make a jaeger schnitzel burger. So for the meat I’m using a mixture of different meats. Schnitzel is traditionally pork or veal, but you need the right ratio of lean meat to fatty meat to make a good burger, so I’m adding some additional fatty beef.” He formed patties out of the meat and placed them on the grill. “What really sets jaeger schnitzel from regular schnitzel is the mushroom gravy on top.”

He smiled, which Logan was quickly realizing was completely unfair. “Creating a gravy is a little hard on a grill, but I’ll do my best. Basically we’re going to melt butter in a pan and fry these onions until they begin to brown. Then add the garlic and cook it for another minute. Add the mushrooms and cook until they’re golden and some of the liquid from the mushrooms has evaporated.”

Leo switched back to his burgers and flipped them before returning to his sauce. “To thicken this into a gravy. We’re going to add flour and stir. Then it’s just beef broth, vinegar, thyme, sugar, salt, and pepper.  Now the burgers are done, so we’re going to take all of this off the grill and plate it, making sure there’s plenty of gravy on this burger.” 

“And I’m going to make a burrito burger.” Dorcas took over. “First we’re going to take our meat and add some seasoning to it: chili powder, garlic powder, onion powder, crushed red pepper flakes, dried oregano, paprika, ground cumin, sea salt, and black pepper. Make sure to get the seasoning mixed in there thoroughly. Then we just throw these patties on the grill and let them cook. What really sets this burger apart are the toppings.”

She reached into a bag on her table and pulled out refried beans, salsa, pepper jack cheese, and lettuce. “I made the refried beans and salsa from scratch last night since we definitely don’t have time for that today. So once these burgers are cooked, we just add the toppings and we’re done. Easy enough, right?”

“This challenge is a blind taste test so that we can’t pick favorites.” Leo added. “Which means you guys are going to be on your own for this challenge – we can’t help you in this round.”

Everyone groaned.

“Just don’t burn yourselves and you’ll be fine. You have forty-five minutes and your time starts now!”

***

Mid-Episode Interview:

*Logan takes his hat off to run a hand through his hair with a sigh*

Logan: I… I might be going home today. *laughs* You know, I hate cooking. The only reason I went on this show was because of Finn. He seemed so excited about it, you know? So for the past seven weeks, I figured if I got eliminated I’d just stay in the city and spend time with him when they weren’t shooting the show. I haven’t really cared if I got eliminated or not. Now, though?

*His gaze loses focus for a few seconds, then he looks back at the camera*

Logan: I don’t think I’m ready to leave just yet.

***

Finn quickly glanced over at Logan as he dropped lamb chops into a hot pan. The brunet had come in second to last place in the earlier competition today and clearly wasn’t happy about it. There wasn’t much he could do right now, but he’d find something to cheer him up with after they were done filming for the day. Alex was in the city visiting their family – maybe the two of them could stop by the house and say hi, if it wasn’t too late.

“Non-stick pan, Lo!” He hissed as Logan grabbed a regular pan to put his potato cake in.

“What?”

“Use a non-stick pan. That way it won’t stick when you flip the cake over.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

“How’s it going over here?”

Finn glanced up to see Leo at their shared station. “Good! I think. The lamb chops were a little hard to cut and my tapenade is kind of a mess, but I’m hoping it tastes ok.”

“And the potato cake?”

“The fact that I’m going to be flipping a potato cake is hilarious because I am not graceful at all.”

Leo laughed. “It’s not too bad, you’ll see. Logan, how about you?”

“Well, I’ve learned that I hate the taste of fennel.” Logan groused, sprinkling red pepper flakes on top of his fennel salad. “So I’m hoping to mask that flavor as much as I can.”

“It’s definitely not for everyone. Your chopping skills have really improved over the past couple of weeks, though – look at those potatoes!”

Logan looked up and smiled.

A smile Finn definitely recognized from college.

He glanced back and forth between the two, speculating. Maybe it wasn’t just Finn dealing with new feelings he wasn’t sure how to process yet.

After time ran out Finn glanced down at his two identical dishes – one for him, one for Leo – with a sigh of relief. It was still a little messy, but overall he felt pretty good about it. No matter what he was miles ahead of where he started, so he was happy with himself. He was still a little worried to be tasting his own dish, though. At the end of the day he was still a bad cook, after all.

When it was finally his turn to be judged, he grabbed both plates and placed them on the table before taking a seat opposite Leo.

“This feels like a really weird first date.” Finn teased, watching the faintest hint of a blush spread across Leo’s cheeks.

Oh my god, he’s adorable.

“I can definitely see some inconsistency in the cooking of your lamb chops.” He hurried to say, flipping one of the pieces of meat over for Finn to look at. “See, this one’s nice and brown while this one is undercooked. This boils down to variation of size in your meat. When you’ve got all kinds of different sizes, it’s hard to consistently cook them.” He cut up a piece of lamb and put it in his mouth. Finn probably stared at said mouth a bit too long before following suit.

“Well? What do you think?”

Finn shrugged, swallowing his bite. “I like it.”

Leo smiled. “You know what? Me too.”

 ***

Logan was up next. He sat down hesitantly across from Leo, looking down at his plate and hoping it was enough to save him from elimination.

“Your presentation is really good, Logan. The potatoes are nice and golden, the lamb looks perfect.” Leo said, and something about his words and calm demeanor soothed Logan instantly. He smiled. “Thanks, chef.”

“Ready to try this?”

“Let’s do it.” Logan stabbed his food with his fork, took a bite –

And instantly coughed.

It was so spicy. The kind of spicy that makes your throat close up and tears come to your eyes.

“Oh my god.” He gasped, making a mad dive towards his glass of water and downing it as fast as he could. “Jesus Christ, that’s so hot.”

Leo hummed, setting his fork down. He seemed completely unfazed. “Too much red pepper. You said earlier you were trying to mask fennel flavor, but I think you did too good a job at that.” He watched Logan with a small smile and pushed his own full glass of water towards him. “You ok?”

Logan gaped at him, but gladly accepted the water. “How are you not dying right now?”

“I literally have a show about cajun cooking; I’m used to spice. You should try ghost peppers sometime.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it.” Leo looked back down at his plate. “Overall, your dish was pretty good. Could’ve used a little less red pepper, but the rest of it was spot on.”

Logan felt his shoulders relax a little. “Thanks, chef.”

***

Logan was in the bottom two.

Fuck.

Finn’s heart had continued to drop as name after name of the safe contestants got announced, including his own, and Logan’s didn’t. He knew Logan didn’t really care if he got eliminated or not, but this had been so much fun to do with him. Finn didn’t want to see him go yet.

“And the recruit who will be leaving us today is…”

Finn honestly couldn’t name the person who got eliminated – all he knew was that Logan was staying. He let his tense shoulders relax and stepped forward to give him a hug. “That was close, Lo.”

“Yeah,” Logan’s voice was muffled in Finn’s shirt. “Guess I’ll have to try harder next week.”

Finn leaned back with a big smile on his face. “You wanna stay?”

“I mean, I’m a really bad cook,” Logan shrugged. “But I’ll stay as long as I can.”

“Logan?” Both boys turned at the voice. Leo stood off to the side, looking slightly awkward.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to talk to you about today’s challenges and ways to improve. I’ve got a few tips I can share, if you want.” He glanced at Finn. “Can I steal him for a second?”

“Go right ahead.”

Leo flashed him a smile before motioning for Logan to follow him.

Finn couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could read Logan’s body language like a book. When he fiddled with his hat, Finn knew he was nervous. When he met Leo’s eyes and didn’t look away as he spoke, he was serious about whatever he was saying. When his gaze flicked down to Leo’s lips, he wanted to kiss him. When he subconsciously leaned forwards and tilted his head up slightly, he was going to kiss him.

The strangest thing was… Finn wasn’t jealous. He should be, shouldn’t he?

But Logan didn’t kiss Leo.

He seemed to catch himself at the last second and he drew back sharply, refusing to look at Leo again. He muttered something and turned to walk away, catching Finn’s gaze as he did so. His eyes widened guiltily, steps slowing as he crossed the room to where Finn was waiting.

Finn gave him a small smile and grabbed his hand reassuringly.

“I think we need to talk.”

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part three

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x Reader

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

                  Posting new chapters every Wednesday and Friday!

            Come together

She was so late. Sarah knew she needed the rest, her body and mind both fatigued under the stress of simply being who she is. Of having to constantly be alert for threats to her identity and her life. And so, she’d taken what was meant to be a short nap, an energy boost so she could power through the rest of the evening.

She slept through the alarm. What ultimately woke her up was that prickling sensation one feels when subconsciously realizing they’re resting for too long. Feeling this pinprick at the back of her brain, she slowly opened one eye and then the other. Rolling onto her back, she exhaled loudly before swinging herself up and out of the bed. It’s then that she noticed the time. Immediately, she shot into her closet tossing random sets of outfits onto her bed. She took a quick shower and applied little to no makeup, reminding herself that a natural look is always best. Finally, she returned to her bedroom and made an impulsive decision on what to wear. She’d usually take an ungodly long time to choose an outfit, but she had about ten minutes to walk out the door.

As she spun in the mirror, she suddenly stopped and looked at herself intently. While being satisfied with her unruly curls and soft makeup, she could see the tension in her shoulders, the dread in her eyes. And although she loved musicals and shows, she couldn’t help but want to curl up in her bed instead. And it wasn’t because she was tired.

No, it was fear that sat heavy in her stomach, rooting her to her spot. The ticket to the show had been left for her by the mysterious B.N.

At first, her worry and confusion had been softened by Martha’s idea of a secret admirer, a timid co-worker who was working up the courage to ask her out. But as the weeks went by, Sarah was less convinced. Somebody was watching her, knew her routine, her likes and dislikes. Someone knew where she lived. At work, she was increasingly jumpy and afraid of every corner. Did Vought figure it out? Were they baiting her, waiting for the opportunity to eliminate her and the threat she posed?

It would be the perfect cover-up: a young woman is followed by a stalker, a fact that many other people already knew from the flowers delivered to her office each week. When he finally confronts her, she rejects him, angering him to the point where she’s murdered. This could explain her body being found in some alleyway, or even her disappearance.

Was this ticket going to deliver her to her maker? Would it take her straight to her death? The theater was such a public place, utterly packed with people both inside and outside. But so much could happen on the way there and back.

Realizing she’d begun to shake, she stilled herself and thought of Mallory. She’d been taught better than this. The older woman would probably scoff at her for walking into such an obvious trap, but she couldn’t run from it either. If it was Vought, they’d been toying with her long enough. She’d be careful, alert. Finally, she gathered her coat and purse and walked out.

“Hey, honey,” a voice spoke up from the sidewalk. She froze in the middle of locking the door. Maintaining her grip on its handle, she was unsure on how the next few minutes would unfold, how she would handle the unpredictability of the man standing behind her. But she felt the imperceptible change in her stance as her mind sharpened. She was taught many things, but taking shit isn’t one of them.

“What do you want?” she bit out, turning to face the man she’d never wanted to see again.

“Come on, babe,” he trailed off with a laugh, ��it’s been almost a year-- I wanted to see you, maybe y’know, talk. God knows it’s time”

“I want you to leave,” she stared him down. “Now,” she added.

He moved fast up her porch steps, and she was quick to slip the key back in to open the door. She’d stuck one foot into the house when he stopped her, grabbing onto her wrist. He squeezed tight, the frazzled woman containing a wince.

“You need to stop before I hurt you. We’re over, Jason. Over.”

“Come on, you needed a break, and I gave you one.” He inched closer and whispered, an intense look in his eyes, “It may take time, but it always boils down to me and you together.”

She kicked him hard, "It's you and I, you illiterate ass."

He lazily let go, allowing her to back into the house. Before she could slam the door, he’d stuck his foot in. The woman pressed onto the hardwood with all her weight, but there was no stopping his breach. He stood menacing in the entrance, but she didn’t inch back.

Something clicked in her, like a mounting fury. The vase of pretty lilies sitting idly by the entrance. The floral pin in her hair. The ticket. The earrings. She grabbed the vase and threw the water in his face, letting the flowers fall off to the side.

“You,” with a snarl she pointed at him. “How dare you try to weasel your way back into my life! Have you been following me because I swear.”

She snatched the pin out of her hair, letting curls fly in front of her face. The pin quickly followed the water in a general trajectory towards him. Although her aim left much to be desired, she hoped it stabbed him in the eye. She tensed, ready for a fight. Her fingers twitched, and she wished she had a gun to curl them around.

Jason made a move to say something when a sudden force pulled him through the entrance, sending him flying back.

One moment he was there, and the next he'd vanished.

She stopped moving, stopped breathing. But not a moment later, curiosity had her moving towards the porch with tentative steps. A dark shadow stood tall over Jason’s crumpled body on the sidewalk. Dressed in a black armored suit, the figure was heaving deeply. Its strict posture seemed to be shaken by erratic breathing, like an animal's. A long knife’s sharp edge glinted under the moonlight, and she realized what was about to happen.

She threw herself forward, “No, no, don’t.”

Jason’s features were bloody, but his eyes were open, and he was breathing. His arm was folded at an awkward angle under him. The tall, masked figure tensed, and turned around completely, stiffly, until he was fully facing her.

The blood drained from her face. “Black Noir.”

It wasn’t clear whether her words were meant as a statement or a question, but he replied with a slow nod.

His breathing had gone quiet and steady. His eyes were hidden behind the heavy black goggles he wore, but she could’ve sworn he gave her a calculating look. As if he were measuring the weight of her words. He looked down at the crumpled figure, and then slowly back at her. She realized it was a silent question. Was he asking for permission? She hated Jason. He was a terrible person, and it’d taken her time to shake his influence from her life. He was ungrateful and a coward and a mistake.

Now, on the ground he was choking on tears. While he mouthed ‘please’ in her general direction, clasping his hands together, she almost wished she hadn’t intervened. That Black Noir had hurt him. Though his gaze was concealed, she could read anger in his stance. She thought he looked like a modern fury in the night, and she was sure this must be the scariest moment in Jason’s life. As Black Noir waited for her word, she realized that in one silent look, one silent gesture, he’d made her judge, and he her executioner. Looking down at her ex boyfriend’s form, she steeled herself against her heart’s instinct. After those years of suffering, it only wanted to hurt the man on the ground. The tall man standing over him watched her, trying to read the conflict in her eyes. But she was no judge. And she would not make him her executioner, no matter how willing.

Steadying her voice, she spoke softly. “Let him go, it’s not worth it.”

They stood there for a few minutes, as Black Noir processed her words. The urge to finish the filth laid out on the sidewalk was strong, and he had to steel himself against it. He didn’t want to get carried away in front of her, have her witness the monster inside. And if he disobeyed her request, would he alienate her forever? Would she hate him, be disgusted by him?

Finally, he shot down and grabbed onto the other man’s shirt, tugging him upwards. He brought his face up to his mask, reveling in the way the smaller man trembled with fear. He let him go and moved away, taking a protective stance in front of the young woman he’d sworn to protect.

Jason scrambled to his feet and caught a glimpse of his ex behind the shadow who’d come to stand in front of her. Black Noir shifted to hide her from view, but she still saw the disbelief printed onto his features, the wild look of fear in his eyes. He moved backwards, crossing over to the other side of the street. Looking over his shoulder, he sped away, holding onto his side.

Black Noir watched him go, inhaling and exhaling deeply. He centered himself and decided to file the man as unfinished business.

Peering around him, she watched her ex disappear at the corner down the street.

Looking up at the dark shadow standing with his back to her, she stood in slight disbelief herself. She couldn’t help the shock still coursing through her veins. Seeing Jason after a year. Learning that he’d been stalking her for some time. Black Noir appearing. Asking him to spare the life of a man she loathes.

And now that she was alone with what she knew to be Vought’s personal hit-man, was this it?

He moved towards her slowly, and she took equally large steps back. Should she run, slam the door? It’d be useless, she didn’t stand a chance. Years ago, she might have been able to make a stand. Not now, not anymore.

They were in the house and he raised his hands. It confused Sarah. She expected him to finish her off quickly. The potential cover-up would hold: her abusive ex-boyfriend shows up, and as she rejects him things get out of hand. He gets violent and she ends up with her head bashed into a wall or a vase crashed into her skull. She knew what Black Noir was capable of. He’d have to control his strength to make it look like a human had murdered her.

She stood frozen and couldn’t seem to bring her heartbeat to an acceptable rate. She knew he could hear it, and she wondered if he was getting off on her fear. What he did next took her completely by surprise. Black Noir leaned down and began to gather the scattered lilies at her entrance. He picked the fallen flowers up by their long stems, placing them back into their vase.

He could feel her heart beating wildly, like that of a scared rabbit. He focused on the flowers he’d chosen for her, thinking of a way to calm her down. Was she still panicking after the attack, or was she simply afraid of him? She’d seemed fine with him when he’d crossed her in the lost-and-found.

When his thoughts returned to the other man’s appearance, his blood rushed in an unpleasant way. It was the surge of wild energy that coursed through him before a hunt.

He moved towards her, with long, smooth steps. He raised both hands, one steadying her head, the other holding a shimmering piece of metal. Immediately, she flinched, and her breath grew faster. This was it. The fight in her immediately reared its head, and she gathered all her strength to push against him, her hands curled into fists. He tensed and took a step back, exhaling loudly. It disturbed him that she could think he would hurt her. If only she knew to what extents he'd go to protect her. He showed her the piece in his hand: it was the beautiful pin of flowers. They glinted under the light in different shades of blue.

She stammered, “I thought--” He could still kill her with the pin, she reminded herself. All he had to do was jab it hard into her neck, and she was a goner. She breathed in deeply, “Why? Why are you here?”

When Black Noir just looked on, she grew uneasy and began to squirm.

She steadied her voice and squared her shoulders. “You need to leave.”

He looked on and slowly nodded. He wanted to claw at his face, at the terrible being he’d become. She feared him, entirely closed off and ready to run away. He gently lifted the pin to hand it to her.

She shook her head, “You can take it. I don’t want anything of his.”

The big man let his hands drop to his sides and took a step back. He tilted his head to the side. If she could’ve guessed, she would’ve thought he was dejected, disappointed even. He held out a firm hand. She shook her head. He insisted. With hesitation she took it, and he held her fingers delicately, like they were made of thin glass. The gloves were rough against her skin. Her mind wandered to how many men he’d killed or beat senseless. Jason had gotten lucky that night.

Black Noir led her in front of the mirror. She slipped a small dagger out of the hidden pocket she’d sewn into her dress. From behind, he ran his fingers over her hair, slipping the pin into place. She stood tense, not understanding the meaning of his actions. He knew she’d pulled a knife out, keeping it flat against the palm of her hand and out of view. The gesture intrigued him. He tilted his head slightly and wondered how much he still had to learn about Sarah Burns. He stepped away towards the door.

She was utterly confused by his gesture. It felt meaningful, but she couldn’t decipher it. Was he truly just going to leave? He had helped her with Jason, would have killed him even. He’d picked her flowers up off the floor. He’d gently thread the pin back into her unruly locks of hair. “What is going on?”

She whirled around, just as her voice compelled him to face her. She was already confused, and the night had raised her sense of fight or flight. She gripped the small knife tighter.

He didn’t want to add onto the tension he could read in her eyes. He was a shadow who would watch over her from afar, a shadow that should not taint her light. He felt something towards himself he’d never felt before: disgust. Disgust for the being he’d let himself become, or better yet disgust towards the way he’d succumbed to other’s visions of him. He’d been built into something further down the line from evil. Something deeper, something more focused and dangerous. And the issue was he liked it, he let it consume him and run free because he'd come to enjoy it. He felt empowered by it.

In her entrance, standing both inside and outside, he stood conflicted.

“Why?”

Disgust for himself and his inability to answer her simple question surged through him. And yet, he felt rooted to his spot, incapable of leaving. He slowly reached into a side pocket on his chest and extracted a petite, black box. Hanging on its side, was a familiar clean, white tag. The gift was small in his gloved hand, and he handled it with care as he placed it on the cabinet.

She looked at him, the flowers and the box.

She moved her fingers through her hair, careful around the pin she didn’t want to dislodge. Black Noir watched her in silence. In her dress and light makeup, her mascara slightly smudged under the eyes, he just wanted to take her in his arms and disappear. Her eyes were fixed on him as if she were looking into his soul. He looked away. He was a being both brutal and dark: his soul was too dark of a place for her.

“Black Noir. You’re B.N.”

Once he gazed back into her eyes, he found himself unable to look away. Suddenly flushed, and watching him with bated breath, she waited for a reaction.

The man in question thought he should just disappear into the night. It could all end there. He’d find a way to be content with watching over her from afar. Occasional gifts would remind her of him, should she continue to accept them. He’d never be able to stay away, but he could erase himself from her life. One of his greatest abilities was staying invisible, sticking to the shadows.

And yet, he wanted to be worthy of her attention, and he wanted her to want him close.

He nodded and stood straighter if that was even possible.

He could feel the woman’s heart rate speed up again, as she processed the new information. After a moment of speechlessness, she walked towards him. Coming to a stop only a few steps away, they simply looked at each other.

“Are you here to hurt me?”

Even with his military grade eye-ware she could sense the intensity of his gaze on her, reading her every move and gesture. He shook his head no.

He could be lying. He was a spy, sleek and dangerous. He never spoke, and she was sure that he was a professional observer. She was certain he knew how to read people, because that's what he does every day of his life. He never interacts; he observes and takes orders. Was he simply trying to get her attention? Was his following her unrelated to Vought? It shouldn’t, but this somewhat filled her with relief. She might just have a normal stalker, not a hit-man sent to kill her by the organization she was planning to tear to the ground.

Or was he here for information? Maybe they weren’t so sure about her involvement and had sent him to assess the situation.

But this could go both ways. She’d feed him false information, and maybe she would be able to extract information from him. She severely doubted this but giving him the information she wanted to give would allow her to control Vought’s research on her.

Still somewhat confused and flustered, she kept eye contact with him. This would be a dangerous game of cat and mouse, where the cat is a man who could snap her neck in a split second.

She offered him something they probably both needed. “Let me get us a glass of wine and we can talk.”

PART 4  PART 5

Giulia

[raineydaywrites]

working on from then til now (4/5)

link to part 1 (x), part 2 (x), part 3 (x), ao3 (x)

Taako couldn't explain how, but they got past it. Angus asked for more magic lessons, he hung around with Tres Horny Boys, and he put up with all of their dumb jokes until Taako stopped wanting to flinch every time they spoke.

Taako found himself growing extremely protective of the kid, much to his own dismay. He didn't want to care about this stupid kid. But he kind of already did. He'd cared about him before he'd learned what he'd done, and he'd felt- responsible for him afterward.

He loved this dumb brat, and it was terrifying, and it was amazing.

And then everything changed again.

The deaths at Glamour Springs- they hadn't been his fault at all. Not directly anyway. Not in the way he'd always thought they had been.

It had been Sazed- the fucker- jealous and bitter and taking it out on Taako and his audience.

Taako hadn't done anything wrong. Well, except for everything he did that convinced Sazed to hate him in the first place- but, but that wasn't the same. It wasn't his cooking. It wasn't his magic. It wasn't him.

It was just a dick who went way too far.

Taako wanted to be happy about that, but he couldn't quite bring himself to be. It didn't change anything that had happened, really. The only person that this knowledge benefited was himself, and, like, yeah, it was pretty great to know that he hadn't messed up in that particular way- but was it really all that much better? Still his fault. Still his food. Still his reputation ruined with no way to prove that he hadn't done it.

But he could tell Angus about it. And maybe the kid wouldn't feel so bad about him anymore.

Angus had been really torn up about befriending his parents' supposed killer, Taako knew. Kid was all about justice and fairness, so it was hardly a surprise. He had spent so long wanting to punish the killer, and then suddenly he was trusting him instead. Of course the kid was gonna feel weird about it.

Oh. Wait.

On the other hand, Angus wanted justice. He'd pushed that aside when he'd thought it was Taako, thought it was an accident.

How would he react to knowing that it had been murder after all? What would the kid do about it?

The thought of Angus running headlong after a murderer, especially while emotional and overwrought, sent a spike of fear through Taako's blood. Sazed was a slimy motherfucker that had always known how to act in his own self-interest- how to eliminate loose ends. Taako had appreciated it before, when he hadn't realized that the guy was willing to commit stone cold, premeditated murder. When those talents had been used to his advantage in running the show, and he'd thought Sazed wouldn't do anything worse than skirting some of the less convenient laws.

Sazed had poisoned the food Taako made for a crowd. He had wanted Taako to die in front of an audience, to die painfully and ruin his reputation in the process. Sazed had either not cared about or maybe even hoped for the deaths of the audience members as well. Sazed must have planned it out at least a few days in advance, if not longer, and he had spent that time calmly working with Taako while imagining his death.

Sazed had been the one to suggest running first. Taako knew that he probably would have come to the idea soon enough, but he'd been too frozen in shock in the moment to start moving. The fucker had seen his plan go awry and decided to make Taako look as guilty as possible before ditching him and stealing his shit.

He would have no qualms about killing a kid.

If Angus went after him, he'd be putting himself in danger.

And Angus would go after him. Taako knew him well enough by now to know that. You didn't become a renowned detective by the age of ten by holding back. The kid had no concept of his own limits and a years-long hope for justice.

Taako couldn't let that happen, but he didn't know how he was supposed to protect the kid either. He and the guys could go with him, Taako supposed, but that would still bring Angus into danger by the fact that he would be present with a murderer.

And Taako didn't know enough about Sazed or the situation the guy was currently in to be certain of the threat level. He was sure that he, Merle, and Magnus could take the guy if he was by himself, but what if he had allies? Who even knew where the guy was nowadays?

Taako was going to tell Angus. Of course he would tell Angus, the kid had a right to know.

But he needed to make a plan first. He needed to figure out how to keep Angus safe and still get the justice he so wanted.

-

Taako tried to make a few discreet inquiries, but 'discreet' wasn't exactly the best skill of THB. And Angus McDonald was a very good detective.

Taako was woken by an urgent eyed Davenport, and he immediately knew that something was wrong. He wasn't sure why exactly the worried look on the dude's face prompted an instinctive alarm, but he had learned to trust his instincts.

"What's happening?" he asked, even though he knew he wasn't going to get much of an answer out of the guy.

"Davenport!" was all the guy offered, his hands moving quickly, but Taako didn't understand enough sign language to actually get it.

He did notice the signs for "Director" and "Angus" though, and he was moving instantly.

"Lucretia in her office?" Taako questioned, only pausing long enough for Davenport to nod before he was pulling on his boots and grabbing the Umbra Staff.

As Taako left, he half-noticed Davenport going to Magnus' and Merle's rooms to wake them as well, but he didn't pay it any mind, moving out of the suite and towards the elevators with a single-minded determination.

By the time he got to the elevators, the other three had caught up with him, and Taako tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for Merle and Magnus to get in the damn elevator so they could get a move on.

He said nothing the whole trip to the Director's office, just knowing that something was wrong.

"Taako, there you are," the Director said, voice tight with worry when they got to her office. "When was the last time you spoke with Angus?"

"Yesterday? No, wait, day before," Taako said, stomach sinking with dread. "Why?"

"He left the base very early this morning, telling Avi that he had a family emergency to attend to. Avi had no reason not to believe him or to deny the request, so he sent Angus down planetside. But Angus left me this note-" the Director's voice cut off for a second, and Taako felt his dread increase. "He's in danger, isn't he?"

As the Director handed the note over for them to look at, Taako felt a strange, sickening sense of deja vu. Some part of his mind was screaming that everything was about to go wrong, but he didn't even know why.

The note was longer than Taako had expected, though he supposed it shouldn't be a surprise that the little nerd had babbled on.

Taako read the note as quickly as possible, cursing when he read Sazed's name.

"You two idiots can't keep your fucking mouths shut, huh?" Taako said, glaring between Merle and Magnus, refusing to admit to himself that if Angus had really been listening in for a while, he could have easily heard about it from Taako instead.

"Taako, please, not now," Lucretia said, glancing up from where she had her face buried in hands. She looked tired, and Taako thought about how much she seemed to like the kid and felt a stab of sympathy.

And she was right anyway. Snapping at his friends wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"Fine, whatever. We gotta find Ango," he said, hoping that Magnus and Merle would understand it as the apology it was meant to be. They seemed to.

"Do any of you know who this person is that he's looking for?" the Director asked. "I spoke with him a little while back and he said he was having a personal issue, but he didn't give much detail, and I didn't want to pry. Did he ever say anything to you three? I know he spends a lot of time with you."

Magnus and Merle glanced to Taako, clearly unsure how much he was comfortable revealing.

"Yeah. I know who he's looking for," Taako said. "Where'd Avi send him?"

"Wait- don't you have some way to track him through the bracers? They know where we are right?"

"They don't transmit constantly," the Director said, leaning her head forward in exasperation with herself. "I didn't want to be creepy, spying on my employees, you know?"

"Fuck," Taako said emphatically.

"It was a nice thought, though!" Magnus said, patting the Director on the back comfortingly.

"That could get invasive and weird, yeah, I suppose," Merle mused.

"Yeah, thanks for not being Fantasy Big Sister or whatever, but can we focus?" Taako said. "Where. Did. Avi. Send him?"

"Davenport!" Davenport exclaimed, spreading a map out on the Director's desk and gesturing to it, quickly marking where Avi must have put Angus down.

"Great. We're going," Taako said.

"I've had a team looking for Angus since I discovered that he was missing. They haven't turned up anything yet," Lucretia said. "I'm asking about this individual because I'm hoping that it may offer some insight to where he might be, or where Angus might seek him out."

"Team sweet flips?" Magnus questioned, a bit of excitement entering his voice.

"No, I'm afraid not. As impressive as they may be together, they're not our most- subtle team. I've sent a team of Seekers instead," the Director explained.

Taako stared down at the map, wracking his brain to figure out if he could remember anything useful. He hadn't paid much attention to Sazed, if he was being honest. He didn't know the guy enough to have a clue of where he might be.

But something familiar was whispering at the back of Taako's mind, and he focused, trying to pull it forward.

"There," Taako pointed to a small town a fair but walkable distance from where Avi had sent Angus. "That's Sazed's hometown. That's gotta be where Angus is looking."

The Director didn't question it, instead tapping at her Stone of Farspeech quickly.

"Maya? Have you and your team found anything of note in the town of- Wellspring? I have reason to believe Angus may have sought this individual there," she said.

A voice Taako was unfamiliar with came crackling back. "Yes, we have! I cannot confirm anything, but I'll send you the location information now."

Taako felt a tiny flash of relief, but didn't let it show. This wasn't over yet.

"Great, thank you," the Director said, and Taako saw the same wary hope on her face that he felt in himself.

"Normally, I would send Regulators for a task like this, but I know how much you three care for Angus, and so I ask if you-"

"Yes!" All three Reclaimers spoke before she could even finish speaking.

"Then I wish you good luck," the Director said, smiling softly at them. "Avi is waiting. I'll have Seeker Maya meet with you to explain the situation."

Taako was already leaving, barely taking the time to wave in acknowledgement as he stalked out of the office and toward the transport bay.

As they walked, no one said anything, too furious and worried to feel comfortable goofing too much. This was Angus who was in danger, after all.

The whole way there and into the glass cannon ball, Taako found one thought spiraling around in his head, over and over, somewhat nonsensical all things considered, but unshakeable regardless.

Hold on Angus. I can't lose you too.

part 5 (x)

[hockeylvr59]

Please Don’t Judge Me Part 4 || Auston Matthews

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Once again I fail miserably...an update a year is pretty crappy and I’m not even sure if anyone is still interested, but I think I finally figured out where I want this series to go. It probably won’t be more than a part or two longer but we’ll see. Let me know what you think. 

Warnings: a curse or two

Word Count: 1,486

~~~~

Soon after it was revealed that you were pregnant with Auston’s baby, the Leafs were eliminated from playoff contention. Auston had insisted that he wanted to be a part of yours and the baby’s life but he hadn’t actually done anything to back up those words. And needless to say, you weren’t holding your breath that he ever would. 

In fact, it wouldn’t surprise you if he went to Arizona for the summer and resumed ignoring you. To be frank, Auston doing whatever the hell he wanted was the least of your worries. 

Now that Steph knew, she was over at your apartment more frequently and when she wasn’t around she was texting to see if there was anything you needed. There was no doubt in your mind that you were probably going to name Steph and Mitch godparents of your little one and you were grateful for their friendship. 

___

As you stood in front of the mirror in your bedroom, you sighed and fiddled with the hem of your shirt, adjusting the way the fabric laid over your ever-expanding bump. You weren’t sure whether the feelings inside of you were more excitement or nerves but either way, you couldn’t get your body to relax. 

Looking over at the clock beside your bed, you sighed and grabbed your purse, slipping a pair of sandals onto your feet. You had a doctor’s appointment in 45 minutes and if you were going to make it in time, you needed to get your butt out of the door. 

Today was possibly one of the biggest days of your pregnancy. Today you could find out whether you were having a boy or a girl. A mini Auston or a mini-you. You knew that you could find out, but the more you thought about it, the more you weren’t sure whether you wanted to. 

On top of all of that, you decided to be the bigger person yesterday and had texted Auston the appointment information. You had no idea whether he was even still in Toronto and he hadn’t responded to the text but your child deserved to know its father, even if you weren’t sure Auston deserved the same. He probably wouldn’t even show, but knowing that he might made you even more anxious than normal. 

___

Reaching the doctor’s office, you made your way inside, making note to talk with the doctor about safe ways to alleviate the lower back pain that had become almost constant. After signing in you asked the nurse if you could use the bathroom before your appointment, the baby having shifted on your bladder during the drive over. 

As you let yourself into the waiting room a minute or two later, your eyes met brown across the room, and for a moment you lost your breath. 

So he’d actually shown up. 

Grabbing a magazine, you took a chair two down from his and started flipping through it. From the corner of your eye, you could see him fiddling with his hands, removing his ball cap every so often to card his fingers through his hair. It was clear he was uncomfortable and there was a part of you that was glad he was. He didn’t get to be comfortable when he’d been MIA even after promising he wouldn’t be. 

When a nurse eventually called your name, you gingerly pushed yourself to your feet and looked back, waiting to see if Auston was going to follow. He hesitated for a moment before standing and following after as a nurse led you to an exam room. Once inside, he paced back and forth while the nurse took your blood pressure, weight, and quickly measured your growing bump. It wasn’t until she left the room that Auston finally spoke. 

“So uh...what’s this appointment for?” He mumbled, scratching at his head once more. You wanted to shoot back a sarcastic ‘to check on the baby you knocked me up with, dumb ass’ but you refrained, instead taking a deep breath and rubbing over your bump. 

“It’s an ultrasound to check on the baby’s development.” Certain that Auston still had no idea what that meant you sighed and continued. “We’ll get to see the baby, hear its heartbeat.” The way his eyes went wide told you that was clearly not what he was expecting. Thankfully, before he could say anything in response, there was a knock on the door and your doctor made her way inside the room. She didn’t even flinch seeing Auston standing there and instead just flipped through your chart before looking up at you. 

“Alright Y/N...I see we’ve reached the 18-week mark and you’re scheduled to see your baby today.” Her smile was bright and reminded you why you had chosen her as your doctor all along. It was hard to be stressed while surrounded by her easy demeanor. “I see the nurse already took your measurements. You’re right on track there. Growing nicely. Any new symptoms or concerns you’d like to discuss?” 

After asking how to best address your back pain, you were given some tips including obtaining a pregnancy pillow, seeing a massage therapist, applying some topical relief, and which pain medication was safe to take if needed. She then addressed that soon you should start feeling the baby move and what else to expect over the next few weeks. 

“Should we take a look at that baby now?” She finally inquired after you’d had all of your questions answered. Shifting on the table, you pulled your shirt up over your belly and slid your shorts down just a tad to provide her full access to your changing body. As you relaxed back you shivered as she put cold gel onto your stomach and started moving it around with the transducer. After a moment she pressed a few buttons and then reached up to turn the screen in your direction as the sound of a rapid heartbeat filled your ears. 

You’d seen your baby once before, but now it actually was starting to look like a baby, and tears immediately pooled in your eyes. The fact that a tiny human was growing inside of you was still mind-boggling. For another few minutes, your doctor typed away, moving the transducer to take some measurements. Then she turned to you, a smile on her face. 

“Everything looks great Y/N. Would you like to know the sex of the baby?” Looking over at the screen, you immediately knew exactly what you wanted. You’d been going back and forth for days but now you felt completely certain. 

“No. I want to wait and be surprised.” You answered. The sound of the chair beside you squeaking made you jump. You’d honestly forgotten that Auston was even there. For a split second, you thought about how maybe that wasn’t what he wanted, but then you decided that you didn’t care about what he wanted. Not knowing brought you a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt yet and you knew it was the right decision. 

“All right then.” Your doctor agreed. “If you ever change your mind you can just give us a call but I don’t blame you. It’s honestly the greatest surprise ever.” She mused, tapping your knee before handing you a few paper towels to wipe your stomach off with. “I think you’re all set. Pictures will be waiting for you up front. I’ll see you in a month.” She declared, before quickly scooting out of the room to see her next patient. For a moment you just relaxed against the bed, your brain processing everything before you cleaned up and fixed your clothing. By the time you had done that, you realized Auston was offering out a hand to help you off the table and begrudgingly you took it, holding on until you were steady on your feet. 

Neither of you spoke until after you’d stepped out of the office. As Auston held the door open you reached into the envelope to pull out one of the two copies of photos the nurse had printed for you. 

“Here.” You murmured, holding the sheet out to him. Auston took it warily, slipping it into his wallet. “Thanks for coming.” You breathed, twisting your keys on your fingers. “I’ll text you the date for the next appointment, but that one is just a check-up so nothing interesting will happen.” Auston nodded but it was clear that he still didn’t know what the hell he was doing and it was frustrating. You were trying and it still seemed like he wasn’t. 

Shaking your head you turned and walked away, heading back to where you’d parked your car. A twinge went up your back as you slid into the driver’s seat and you sighed. 

“I love you little one, but your daddy needs to grow the fuck up already.” 

[janisarkisian]

The Beauty of Your Dance

It’s hard to believe this is my first contribution to wlw renegades week!! Anyway, today’s prompt was enemies to lovers dance au and im here to danceeee!! okay have some novissa. 

Pairing: Novissa

Word Count: 1,889

When Nova had entered the 8th grade, she had gotten serious about dance. Before, she had been serious to an extent. She had danced all the time and had gotten her pointe shoes two years before. And the best thing was, everyone knew she was the best at her studio. She worked day and night at Anarchy Academy of Ballet, but part of her wanted freedom. 

Ever since she had decided to become serious about dance, she had been sworn off to talk with people from any other studio. Technically, no one was stopping her from chatting with them, but it just wasn’t what was expected of her. 

And of course, today was the day that Reject School of Dance held an invitational. Most studios were just there as a formality. The real competition was between Anarchy and Reject. Narcissa Cronin, their best dancer there, and was just as stuck-up and snobby as the people she worked with. Nova tried hard to understand what she was going through, she tried to remember they were working through the same problems. But the problem was, she needed to hate Narcissa Cronin, simply because of who she was. 

As she tied her pointe shoes backstage, Nova regretted not sewing and breaking in a new pair yesterday. With all the dancing she did, Anarchy shipped her two new pairs a week, which still wasn’t enough. 

“Ew,” A Reject dancer laughed as she walked past, “I can’t believe you even have the guts to go up against the Rejects. You should probably save yourself the embarrassment, honey.” 

Nova’s lip curled up in disgust, but she wasn’t about to fight back. Before a dance competition, it was always best to have good mental health. Arguing wouldn’t help her. 

Finally standing, she did a few releves’ on pointe before marking her dances. This year, she had a duet with Winston Pratt, a man she didn’t particularly like due to his clownish antics, and a trio with Honey Harper and Ingrid Thompson. Not to mention their smash group number for the end. She knew the Anarchists would win this year. They had to. 

She watched in the wings as the first number started. As expected it was a really big group number from the Rejects. She had to admit they were really good. The energy their dancers had couldn’t be mistaken. And they all looked happy. Truthfully, it could have just been the lighting, but there was no mistaking the sparkles in their smiles. By the end of the dance, the audience clapped so loud she thought they would eliminate the rest of the dancers for the Rejects being so amazing. 

The next dance was pretty unimportant. It was a solo done by a boy who danced at Renegade Ballet. She had never even heard of the studio, but she wondered how he was able to dance with his cane. He made it seem effortless, but she knew it must have been incredibly hard for him to dance with a disability like that. 

Watching as the dances slipped by one after the next, she started to get anxious for her duet, which was coming up soon. Finally, the dance before her came on, so she checked herself over once, and headed further into the wings. 

When she got on stage, everything melted away. The competition, the crowd, even Winston, who was spinning her around. There were no Rejects and no Anarchists. It was just her, and this beautiful dance. Nothing could change that. As the lighting went dark, she realized that was the first time she had ever nailed that dance perfectly. As much as she practiced, there were still moves that didn’t come perfectly natural to her that were even harder to do with Winston. But on that stage, she had been perfect.

The tensions during intermission were high. The most communication that happened were whispers between dancers in the same companies. Nova’s anxiety started to kick in, so she did what she always did to help. Plies, crunches, and pirouettes all helped her relax and get into show mode. 

“Nova,” Ingrid spoke while spraying more hairspray on her bun, “We all know you’re going to be great, stop worrying about it.” 

“I can’t,” she responded, knowing it was true, “There’s always an opportunity for someone to get better. If I stop now, I won’t be the best forever. I’ve got to keep persisting. Narcissa Cronin’s probably practicing right now too. I have to beat her.” 

“Actually,” Honey interrupted, “She’s over there hanging out with her friends. Like you should be doing.” 

Nova dropped down from her posse, sighing. “It’s not my fault she won’t be the best at her studio soon enough.” 

“Nova,” Honey’s voice took a level on her heart. Her friends only wanted what was best for her. Maybe they were right. Maybe there was more to life than just dance. The only problem was that she had no idea what was missing. 

***

Soon enough, the intermission was over and everyone was back in the wings, hoping their studio would win. It was no surprise that Narcissa Cronin was opening Act 2 with her solo that every Reject claimed to be amazing. Nova hoped it wasn’t true, yet knowing Narcissa’s reputation, it probably was. 

As the music started, Nova felt all her worries wash away. Normally, this only happened to her when she danced, not when someone else danced. But watching Narcissa dance was like being in a dream. She flowed perfectly with the music, making the whole experience one you should have paid thousands for. Her fiery red hair lit up the stage, perfectly contrasting with the cyan lighting. Narcissa looked beautiful, and Nova couldn’t take her eyes off her. 

She was caught in a trance, something she had never seen before. Then, she heard it. Narcissa had picked up the pace of her dance and fallen. At first, Nova felt no remorse. With her enemy fallen, the victory could be her’s. But not long after, she got ahold of herself. What if Narcissa was hurt? Any dancer knew that an injury could keep you out of the studio for longer than expected. 

Narcissa didn’t appear hurt as she picked herself up, and continued her dance as nothing had happened. Nova admired her for that. If she was hurt, there were no signs of it, and if that had embarrassed her, there were no signs of it. But when she got back up, her dance didn’t have the same magical spirit it had before. It looked empty almost like she knew everyone in the crowd was disappointed. 

Her dance ended, and the crowd clapped, though it was half-hearted. Narcissa’s dance had been amazing, yet the crowd and the judges would only remember her fall. 

Still feeling remorse for Narcissa, Nova knew she needed to get ahold of herself. She, Ingrid, and Honey were on next, and they still needed to be flawless if she wanted to win. 

The dance was short, yet meaningful. It was hard too, their jumps needed to soar, and all be in perfect time. Only the most elite dancers were able to perform it. Still, she felt like she shouldn't be prepping to go onstage. She should have been with Narcissa, comforting her. 

She hoped that at least someone was there and that her whole studio hadn’t turned on her. 

There was something that Nova noticed when she went onstage. She felt happier, but sad all at the same time. Though her dance earlier had been flawless, it had been empty. This dance felt full of feelings and all the things she had missed before. It felt whole.

Before she knew it, the dance was over. It had felt so blur-of-the-moment, just like what had happened to her when she had seen Narcissa onstage. Quickly, the exited stage left, while Ingrid and Honey disappeared stage right. Since they had unloaded their stuff near stage right, she would have to walk around the large stage, but she didn’t mind it. It would give her a quick moment to process the blur of feelings she had just experienced. 

There were many reasons Nova liked the Reject’s theatre. The main reason was that the stage was so big. But another always-present reason was all the dark corridors. It was so easy to get lost if you wanted to, but easy to stay on track. Since she was done for a while, she wanted to get lost. Because sometimes, getting lost was so much easier than facing the things that were directly in front of you. 

She was so lost in her thoughts and problems that she barely heard the sniffle that came from a short, dark corridor which Nova was 87% sure led out to the stage, yet most people used the main wings. 

“Are you okay?” she asked the mysterious figure, who appeared to be pretty distressed. 

“No,” the voice responded. She now knew it was a girl's voice, and it was pretty too. It was probably the most serene voice she had ever heard. 

“Do you want some company?” She asked the shadow, hoping she would say yes. 

“Are you a Reject?” The girl asked, and Nova was unsure how to respond. 

“No,” She responded hoping she had made the right choice, “I’m an Anarchist.” 

“Then be my guest.” 

Nova stepped into the shadows, somewhat shocked to see the girl was none other than Narcissa Cronin, her former worst enemy. 

“Are you Narcissa Cronin?” She needed to be sure. 

“Yeah. Reject School of Dance’s biggest disappointment. I’m sure you love me for that. The Anarchists are practically guaranteed to win this year. All because of me.” 

“You know what?” She asked Narcissa, “I don’t really even care about winning this year. I mean, I did, but something happened to me, and now I feel like it doesn’t even matter. Anarchists, Rejects, we’re all human so why the hell does it matter who wins this stupid dance invitational?” She felt adrenaline rush through her. Why was she admitting things like this to Narcissa Cronin, of all people?” 

“I think that’s really cool because it’s a perspective I’ve never heard before. All the Rejects just want to win. It’s like their only priority. And truthfully, I’m like them. I’m like them so much that I’ve pretty much forgotten to enjoy dance.” She stopped, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. “I’m sorry,” Narcissa said after a moment, “Honestly, I have no idea why I’m telling you all of this. I don’t even know your name.” 

“It’s Nova. Nova Artino.” 

She watched Narcissa’s eyes grow big. “You’re Nova Artino? But I heard you were like, the most competitive person on Earth!” She let out half of a laugh, but the statement hit Nova pretty hard. 

“Well, I used to be.” It was true. 

“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. You were really nice to talk to.” 

“Thanks. You were too. Do you feel better?” 

“Well normally, when I’m feeling down, I just dance. But right now, I don’t think dancing is how I want to cheer myself up,” Narcissa confessed. 

“That’s fair. Will you come backstage with me? I have a number coming up.” 

“Yeah. I think I’d like that,” Narcissa grinned. 

“Then come on. Let’s dance.” 

[blurbry]

I made kind of like a theory story for @reiblu based on their Starry!blue au. I'm not very good at writing so i hope it comes out okay

Blue was born, to a Venasian mother, and, a (possible) Demigod inventor. They weren't exactly what you call a happy family.

His mother..a strong, masculine woman could be hot headed at times. She and her husband fought often, physically and verbally. Their loving tie that created Blue was withered away.

Blue tended more to listen to his mother, and gently began to ween more to her arms. On his (guessed age) 16th -17th birthday, war broke out between Hylians and Venasians.

Generally these two breeds were often friends, but the Venasians started to back away with trading needed supplies. This cause unrest with Hylians, which fueled a war.

Day by day, hour by hour Venasians being hanged, disembowled, beheaded, accused of witch craft. The Hylian armies nearing Blue's comfortable home.

Blue's father stayed locked up in his workshop. He was making a weapon for his only son. A weapon with unimaginable properties. A weapon that only answered to his call.

While the Princess of Hyrule, and the Governor of the Venasians attempted to quell their armies into a calm, honestly not wanting to lose more people, the weapon came to Blue in his sleep.

She glowed with passive embers, that could slice through the enemies hand in large groups. It could eliminate several with one swoop. Blue opened his eyes and gazed at it. It spoke to him. "We must go...we must awaken, and protect your home, blood thirsty Hylians grow nearer."

Blue swallowed nervously, his mother taught him more about fist fighting, he'd never really weilded a true weapon. It settled into his hands and deteriorated. "Call me, when you require me most."

Blue could hear the treachurous marching, the screams of helpless Venasians. He growled and ran to his fathers room, snatching up the crisp blue fabric.

It fit loose but comfortable around him, simple to move in. He clipped the star belt around his torso and ran out with silence. His boot heel clicking on the tile floor.

He took a deep breath "Mama's still out there with her girlfriend..I need you. We need to find mama." The sythe appeared in his hands naturally.

Blue swallowed hard and kicked the front door open, army through army, he knocked them all down, only looking for two people in particular. Two people who meant the most to him.

He heard the cry of a crow in the air. He looked up breifly. Peep. He always followed Mama. Blue shoved, pushed, and sliced his way through Hylian soldiers

He found them, surrounded.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he slipped in front if them, holding a protective stance.

The soldiers backed up at the sight of the boy and his sythe. The menacing angered glare on his face, as sweat glistening in the bright street light showed.

His heart was pounding a million miles a second.

A soldier began to laugh, "this boy thinks he can challenge the royal family of hyrule, look at him, hes scrawny. I doubt he knows how to fight with that thing."

The soldier reached for the sythe, it sizzled in his hand, causing a agonized scream to erupt from him. He backed off in fear, "an..an enchanted weapon.."

Blue held his ground, "leave. Or I'll slice you all down."

The soldiers laughed again and kicked the footing out from under the tired boy. "The other two may go. But the boy...he's cheating, his weapon is enchanted, I say we hang him!"

"HERE HERE!!" the others cheered. They laughed with triumph. The sythe disappeared.

"No no come back, I need you" Blue paniked

'Master, with all due respect, you've already saved that which you commanded I appeared for. My work is finished.'

Blue gazed up at the soldiers, his heart catching in his throat. It seemed all his toughness washed away. He was in real danger. Two soldiers picked him up by the arms, dragging him strongly and roughly. He couldn't even struggle.

He was held down and tied, and thrown into the prison cart. A gag firmly placed between his lips, to keep him from tough talking. He struggled and wiggled as the door shut on him.

++++++

The morning air permiated the stale wooden cart, Blue awoke to the shouting of Hylian men, he knew he wasn't home. The cart door opened to reveal his exhausted figure.

But it was no guard, nor king who came to him. It was a beautiful girl. Her hair was long and wavey, it was evident she had it in braids or a pony tail at times. Her piercing magenta eyes gazed down at him.

She showed no hate, but rather..care. She untied Blue and began to ask him questions on why such a young Venasian, ended up in the death row.

Blue took a breath, "I tried to save..my parents..I found a really pretty weapon in my father's workshop...I stole it..oh princess zelda, I've killed so many of your people to save my mother. I hadn't known my weapon was enchanted, the guard touched it and it disappeared they threw me here to be hanged."

The last part, about the sythe, was a very good lie. The princess fell for it and thought for a good few minutes.

"I've met many tribes during this war..Samuris..Venasians, My own people, Faeries, Gerudo...never once did any of them ask my forgiveness. In fact, they thought I started this war. I helped as many as I could out of them..the samuri was killed, and the Gerudo attempted to stab me in the back. But, young..."

"B..Blue..my name is Blue."

"Young Blue. I can see that in a way, they all had a special tie to you. Something about them, that tells me. That you will meet eachother someday. Because all of you have a special team, a special power inside you. Though it pains me to have to hang you today...I know..you will not die from it."

So it wasnt just venasians losing people...

Blue swallowed back quickly. "Thank you.." He mumbled quietly. Little had he known, this day would awaken his deity hood. That is what the fair princess had meant.

Zelda gave a calm smile and lifted blue up with ease. Taking him to the gallows. Blue stared at his grave. His final resting place. He grimanced and let out a breath.

Something about the air felt off. Zelda put a finger to her lips, as the noose wrapped around his neck. Blue stared at her, judging by thr feeling, the knot was tied wrong.

The gallow master made a small speech against Blue, and kicked the stool from under his feet. Blue gasped as his only sense of footing was lost.

His air supply was cut momentarily, He passed out.

He had felt like he was up there for hours, his neck burned painfully where the rope held. The crowds dispersed and went back to their lives.

Blue felt hands on him, but he couldn't wake up. Part of him was afraid to open his eyes. He heard the whinneying of horses, and the sound of other voices.

"You can wake up now, no ones here to hurt you.." Zelda spoke

"Ew. That's a nasty burn, you couldn't have dropped him any gentler?" A cocky, firey, but sweet voice huffed

"Well pardon me if i lost my nerves a bit." The man, who's voice he recognized as the speech maker, said.

Blue groaned and opened his eyes "w..hat..? Who..are you?"

Zelda smiled gently, "good, I was beginning to think the process failed.."

Red tutted in annoyance, " Well if he wasn't such an idiot he wouldn't be in this situation. I'm Red by the way, don't firget it or I'll have to slap you around."

Vio backhanded Red, earning a very pissed souding growl in response. "Enough Red. I'm Vio. I'm not around much and I prefer to work alone."

There was a more silent person in the corner. His hands balled up in his lap, as he gazed at Blue. He had very soft looking ears. He wore a soft, minty green kimono, that was short and easy to move in. He looked away shyly when he caught Blue's gaze.

"That's Green." Zelda spoke softly. "He's mute, but he has his own way of communicating. Give him some time and he basically becomes the big brother to you."

Blue nodded quietly and looked away from him, figuring he was uncomfortable with being stared at. "Am I..dead?"

Red made an annoyed huff "Technically you are. But there was this big sparkly light that saved you. Not even being in a war has been remembered among the towns folk."

Blue looked at his hands, not a single cut..but the bridge of his nose stung, and his neck still burned.

Suddenly a crow cawed and swooped down. The bird with its mysterious blue eyes sat on Blue's shoulder. "Peep!" (Am i remembering his name right?) Blue smiled. "Hi buddy!!"

Red's lips pursed in amusement, "you're friends...with a bird...and you named him Peep?"

"Y..yeah? Whats wrong with it?" Blue felt protective over the little life.

Red started cackling, which turned into amused laughing. Blue began to growl, stood, his sythe materialized in his hands. He went to swing in anger, at the alerted fae.

His sythe met metal. Before him stood Green. A very very, angered, protective, and brotherly look clouding his sweet freckled face. The sword holding hard against the sythe's weight.

His look held discipline, as he stared into Blue's eyes. Blue let out a breath, and his sythe disappeared. Green's look softened and he sheathed the large blade.

"Sorry.." Blue mumbled quietly.

Vio kicked red gently. "Oof. Sorry I provoked you" Red huffed in annoyance.

And thus that day, a team was formed. One at eachothers throats of course. But as Zelda had said, they had that special bond.

+++++

Okay, no idea if I got Blue's Species or Peep's name right, but it was worth a try. I hope you like it, this took me about three hours to write...hah...

[ar-jae-spn]

Okay okay, let's talk Dean and Jack's reLAtIonShIP - season by season.

(I'll take you through four stages! Prevention, elimination, realization, and solution.)

Season 12:

Okay, obviously we don't see a lot in this season, but Dean still has an opinion on Jack, who he is, and what he'll become.

When they first figure it out, there's an immediate action - find Kelly and her "lucifer love child" and figure it out from there. They don't really go into specifics yet, because they have no clue what it is that they're going to do. They're focused on sending Lucifer back to the cage, leaving Kelly in Cas's care. As we know, she quickly gets away, and they go back to trying to find her.

Here - Dean is in the mindset of prevention. Prevent the bad thing from happening, before it happens. He thinks something is coming, something bad, because when has the name "Lucifer" ever been a good thing.

Lucifer dragged his brother to hell. Lucifer drove Sam to the edge of death. Lucifer is bad news, and Dean's been wanting to stab that angelic arse since season 5. (This becomes so much clearer at the end of season 13, when they finally kill Lucifer. The relief is so clear when they beat him.)

So, what does "prevention" mean. Well, to Dean it means stopping the birth of Lucifer Jr. by any means necessary. This is SO IMPORTANT TO NOTE. Sam is the idealist - he believes that they make the world a better place. He believes in them! He believes that there is always, ALWAYS another way, because he has too. This because Dean is the cynic. He believes they're saving people, but making the world a better place? He's not so sure. He relys on anger and trauma in order to keep going, because he believes the only thing waiting for him is death (which actually becomes quite literal in seasons 14 and 15). He doubts whether everything is worthwhile. He doubts his decisions, and it makes him a mess. That's why he's so good at hunting. It's an absolute for him. You see something bad, you kill it. No second-guessing, no doubts.

So, any means necessary. That includes death. He doesn't want to kill Kelly, but if he believes the single touch of this baby corrupts, what's to say she's not brainwashed? What if she's evil too? Are they willing to take that chance? But when Sam finds a way to save them both, Kelly and her child, he gets on board immediately. He's for it, because if there is a way you can save this mother and her child, and the world while you're at it, he'll go for it. He'll go for it because he believes in Sam.

But then this child takes Cas, and Dean is lost in what to believe again. He's scared - for Cas, and even possibly of Cas. The way he burned Dagon to a crisp? That's power we haven't seen from Cas since the fall. That's scary. He's scary. And his best friend just went off the grid. What if he's hurt? What if he's gone?

And then we get that final showdown. Lucifer is coming, and he's pissed, and we don't have time to argue anymore. This baby is coming, and it's coming now. We get the door to another world, the disappearance of Mary, and Cas's and Kelly's death. In return, Dean and Sam get Jack. How can a creature who caused so much death, who has so much power, possibly be good?

Season 13:

Okay, this is the beginning of the end.

Obviously, Dean's pretty angry at, well, everything. This child is alive, has been born, and the prevention stage has gone out the window.

It's elimination time.

Dean's immediate reaction? Climb the stairs and put a bullet in Lucifer Jr. Sam tries to stop him, but the bullet goes off and Jack's powers are activated. Pure PURE instinct. He hasn't learned enough yet. He doesn't KNOW enough yet. He's just been born for Chuck's sake. And why did Dean act so recklessly? Because he's pissed. He immediately blames the death of Cas, Kelly, and Mary on Jack, because who the hell else is there left to blame? (Also, that moment where Dean calls upon God with no reply, will also start the lead in to "the end".)

Now they're on a chase, a chase for the son of Lucifer. They find him, Sam gets that little moment with Jack saying "will you tell them I'm sorry", and now it's about convincing Dean that Jack is good. But yeah, that doesn't go over well because Dean lost Cas and he blames Jack and Sam blames Lucifer, because Lucifer stabbed Cas. (These boys I swear.)

And then what happens? Cas comes back, and it's because of Jack. This is so so SO important, because this is the moment that Dean starts to ease up on Jack. He respects Cas, he loves him, and Cas's return also proves that Cas and Sam were right. This kid CAN do good.

So then he goes off to save Mary. Dean is surprised, but pleasantly, and they let him do what he has to do. We get that any means necessary vibe from him again, except now it's about saving Mary and protecting Sam. (Threatening Kaia/keeping Sam at the bunker.) Jack goes to Apocalypse World and Sam and Dean go to the bad place. They get back (via the amazing team of wayward women) and get they're spell on.

And, you know, Sam dies...

And then Lucifer is back - again - and Dean gets defensive, because that's his kid and his kid's mentally abusive father just came popping back in on them bearing the single gift that Dean can't refuse (Sam's life). Jack immediately connects this with his own experience. (Oh! I brought Cas back and now Dean thinks I'm good! Bringing loved ones back from the dead is good. i.e. Lucifer must be good.) Because he's a kid, barely a year old, and that's what kids do.

And Jack doesn't want to hurt anyone, driving him to join his father "in the stars" to protect Sam and Dean. Again, final showdown, Jack's grace is taken, Lucifer dies, and Dean disappears.

Season 14:

Moving on to the third stage ~ realization.

Okay so, season 14. I want to start off by mentioning that scene where Jack is determined to kill Michael even if it means sacrificing Dean because it's "what he would want". He's okay with sacrificing one life to save a million, even if it is Dean. Cas is obviously taken a back by this - clearly seeing that Apocalypse World shaped Jack in a way that the Winchester's hadn't. (I also want to quickly mention that this is the same mindset that Jack has now in season 15. His singular life over the world? No contest.) Here he still has his soul, yet the audience is meant to be offended by his proclamation. we've been considering Jack to be a kid who looks up to his father's but obviously it's more than that. He's was weapon of mass destruction, and now he's helpless. He's running out of options and his mortality is crashing down on him.

Then Jack takes ill, and Dean is thrown into a position that he's never been in before. He's about to lose a kid, someone he has treated as a monster since birth until he was able to prove his worth, and he's taking it REALLY hard. He feels guilty and he's totally unprepared to lose child. He failed with Jack in the same (but less extreme) way John failed with the brothers. And he's starting to realize that Jack has always just been a kid.

So they bring him back. Jack has soul, but it's limited now, and he has powers, but he can't use them. But that same feeling of helplessness will come into play when Jack ends up using his powers to save Cas and to save Sam and Dean. He burns out his soul, get his(?) grace back, and saves the world from hyped up monsters in exchange for his morality.

And then he kills Mary. (Personally I never liked Mary's character, but that's for a different post.)

It was an accident! He said stop, used his power, and she disintegrated. I mean if the soulless being, who maybe has too much power and just fried another human being tells you to stop, you should probably do it. I found the way Mary died to be very... stupid? I don't know. Personally I think she should've been smarter than that (but again, another post).

And now Dean is pissed. Because of course he's pissed. His mom just died by the hands of a kid that they helped take care of. I mean, the betrayal he must have felt in that moment is just astronomical. Not to mention Jack just saved Sam's life??? And then goes off and kills his mom??? Like how are you supposed to feel about that? He ends up quickly taking a step back into the elimination stage of our story, as "needing revenge" is the Dean Winchester way.

Then, obviously, we get the show down with God, the "equalizer", and Dean's apparent resistance to follow through with Chuck's "story" (probably because of Sam and Cas, thanks boys). But then Jack dies because Chuck kills him, and that would seem to be the end of the story.

Season 15:

Haha you thought-

Anyways, this is when Jack became the solution.

I just quickly want to mention the scene in the car where Balthagor asks Dean "who was he anyway?" and Dean replies "he was our kid, kind of." Clearly Dean still saw Jack as "their kid" even after everything that happened. He even has trouble replying to the question and then quickly changes the subject.

And then Jack comes back.

At first, Dean seems troubled that Jack has returned, but once Jack fills him in about Billie's plan to kill God, he seems on board, because of course he's on board to take down Chuck. Even so, there's still that mild skepticism about Billie, her plan, and Jack's involvement in it. None of them seem to like where this is headed, and Dean even says that they're being kept in the dark on purpose. They're even more concerned because he doesn't have a soul. Yet, he still volunteers to help save Kaia because it was "his fault". He's trying to right his wrongs because he remembers (logically) what she felt, and he wants to help her. He even says "I owe it to her" and "it's the right thing to do" because he's in her debt. They end up saving her, but get a face full of Billie's wrath in the process. They're clearly scared of her, and they should be.

I feel this is substantial, as Billie has taken a special liking to Dean, and Dean obviously respects her (as he did as the og Death as well as Reaper Billie). He's ten steps ahead in this plan, already thinking about killing Amara too. He's down with clearing the board of cosmic entities.

In "Destiny's Child," when Jack goes to the garden, Dean seems genuinely concerned about him, but taken their given situation and this new plan, it could easily have been mistook for distress over loosing they're last hope at victory. (Then again, when Jack comes back from the garden Dean makes extra sure that he's "okay", asking multiple times.) This is then followed up by the realization that Jack has his soul back and his teary plea for the brothers' forgiveness.

When the season ended here back in March, I thought for sure that Dean and Sam would forgive Jack. It seems so obvious to me that he felt guilty about it. I mean, the boy's literally crying!!! Not only that, but Dean and Sam have made plenty of mistakes in the past, some of which include beating or even trying to murder each other. With that in mind, I just thought they would forgive Jack for what happened to Mary considering he was soulless. I didn't expect Dean to forgive Jack right away, but I didn't expect him to be so reluctant about it either. I think he was really caught off guard when Jack asked for his forgiveness and I think he's still has a long way to go considering the betrayal. (I mean, clearly Dean doesn't forgive things easily. Even when it came to Sam, Sam struggled constantly to gain Dean's trust again until "Sacrifice".)

Then we got "Last Holiday" where we can clearly see Dean being conflicted over his relationship with Jack. He's not ready to forgive him but he doesn't inherently want him to die. He still has a protective instinct over Jack, and he doesn't really want anything to happen to him.

But when Cas tells Dean that Jack is going to be a bomb to blow up Chuck and Amara, Dean's first instinct is to protect Sam from this news. He truly believes that this plan, Billie's plan, is the only way that they're going to win. He blatantly says "You don't have a choice. We don't have a choice." This dialogue can easily be taken as aggressive and selfish, but Dean often hides his hurt with anger. He's pissed at Chuck, he's pissed at Amara, and yeah, he's still angry with Jack. But I have a feeling of Cas is able to find a way to save Jack, he'll be on board with it. There's nothing more important to Dean than Sam, and to just think that he's going to forget that Sam cares deeply about Jack is out of the question. Obviously, Sam has a strong connection with Jack (a profound bond you might say) and Dean didn't want to tell him because, once again, Sam is the only person in the world who could possibly talk Dean out of Billie's plan.

I think Dean is trying to take his anger and hurt from when Mary died and that sense of betrayal and turn it into a defense to cope with the loss of Jack. Jack is going to die, and Dean is certain of this, but he still doesn't like it. Even while he's talking to Billie at the diner, he mentions Jack's inevitable death disdainfully to her. She even has to ask if he's still on board, if they have a problem. He says no, but it's because he doesn't feel like they have another option. Chuck is coming and this is the only play they have right now.

Final comments on 15x16:

Dean doesn't believe they have a choice anymore, which is strange because the whole reason they're fighting in the first place is so that they can have a choice. The poetic irony of this is really in your face and kind of annoying. I think the writers could have done a better job with "Drag me away", especially with dialogue between Sam and Dean. The ending in the car was gold, and they definitely should have built up more dialogue and tension between them before that final scene. A lot of this episode was also emphasizing the fact that Dean would do anything for Sam (as if we already didn't know). But besides that, I thought it was a decent episode. I think it's weird that this episode came this late in the season, but I'm hoping it will tie in nicely in the end. Anyways, this was my analysis of Dean and Jack's relationship and I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave comments or things I might have missed. Stay safe out there!