#anyways I should probably commit to making this a full on au huh?

[eganmont]

That one twitter meme I guess

Yeah

[1moreff-creator]

(01) Levi Fontana - First Trial (DRDT-Milgram AU)

Hey there! We’re officially starting the First trial, and it’s Levi’s turn! With his Voice Drama: Minimalism, and his Music Video (concept): Torn Stitches! As well as the voting at the end (I'm using Tumblr one week polls to not overcomplicate things). I’ve decided (for now at least) not to do post-MV interrogation questions because… I don’t know what to do with them? They would just be a bunch of headcanons for the most part, so I don’t think they would be too important. I might make them later, but not now. 

Anyways. Below is a vague, not entirely serious attempt at a thumbnail for this "video" (ID in alt text). The sprite is from the official gallery of course. 

CW murder and blood (description of a fight). Not afiliated with either DRDT or Milgram.

One clarification I should have probably made in Undercover: all of these prisoner’s backstories are set in the US, because that’s where the DRDT characters are from (minus possibly Teruko). This isn’t really important for Levi, but it may come up later so.

Also another thing I forgot! The idea for this AU came from this post by sunlit-haru! Thanks for the brainrot buddy!

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Voice Drama - Minimalism

(Keep in mind this Es’ personality isn’t the same as canon, but rather it’s loosely based on a certain DRDT character)

*Footsteps*

Es: [Upbeat voice] Hello, Prisoner Number 01! It’s nice to meet you. 

Levi: Hm… Interesting. The uniform is designed to impose a sense of authority, that much is clear from the cape and the hat. The dark clothing enhances the effect, with the gloves-

E: Uh… what?

L: Oh! Apologies. Your outfit is quite intriguing, and… well, observing that kind of thing is a bit of a nervous habit of mine. 

E: Uh… huh. Well, that’s… nice! *Shuffling* Do you like it? It’s a bit more dramatic than what I’d usually wear, but I guess it’s fitting.

L: Oh? What is it you usually wear?

E: …

L: Warden?

E: Oh! Just call me Es! What’s your name, anyways? It would be kinda awkward to just keep calling you Zero One or something. 

L: … Oh. Right, where are my manners? Levi Fontana, a pleasure.

E: Nice to meet you Levi! Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? 

L: Well… I’m XX* years old. I work as a personal stylist in a pretty large company. Uh, I’ve lived alone for a while now, and, uh...

*(Note: DRDT characters are all of an unspecified, adult college age. Understand Levi is saying a number here, I’m just not committing to a specific age)

E: …

L: …

E: …And?

L: Well, not much else. I’m not a very interesting person, I apologize.

E: No, no! That’s all very interesting! But, well, there’s… how do I put this. There’s something in particular I was hoping you'd bring up? Something I feel we… kinda have to talk about?

L: Is that so?

E: Well… this is an interrogation, you know? And here in Milgram, there is a particular aspect of your life that we’re sorta more interested in, you see.

L: Oh, the murder?

E: … Yes, the murder. 

L: I imagined. You have mentioned everyone in this prison is a killer, yes? That TV-cat thing has repeated the same a few times.

E: [Oddly serious] It’s a dog, actually. 

L: … Really?

E: *Clears throat* Like you said, all of you have taken lives. Interrogating these situations is the fundamental purpose of Milgram. 

L: I see. And you know we are murderers without a shadow of a doubt? I would find that quite impressive.

E: Milgram has deigned you murderers, and I have full faith it is right in its assessment. 

L: Very well. In that case, yes, I am a murderer. 

E: … Just like that?

L: Well, yes. I killed someone. That makes a murderer, does it not? 

E: Uh, yeah, but… you seem oddly calm about this.

L: Am I? I suppose this is not quite how most people would confess to murder. But if I’m frank, I cannot bring myself to pretend to be sorry for what I did. 

E: Oh! That’s… huh.

L: …

E: I mean, why? Why do you not regret it? Surely killing someone is something no one would ever want to do, right?

L: Perhaps that’s how you view it, but… well. The person I killed had to die. It’s as simple as that. 

E: … Well, that’s a- That’s a pretty simplistic view, which is fine, I suppose. Isn’t that a bit cold-hearted, though?

L: I have been told that, yes. Hm... I suppose I should watch the other prisoners to learn how normal murderers should handle themselves.

E: Huh? I don’t think… Wait, why is that your first instinct?

L: Oh? Well… I have never been very good with my emotions. It’s usually better if I simply act the way normal people act. 

E: That doesn’t sound healthy.

L: Perhaps. It… hasn’t always worked out very well. I thought if I acted more like my family… ah, I probably shouldn’t talk about that kind of thing.

E: Hm?

L: Yeah, ignore that. 

E: Uh, if you say so... But that’s still quite a bit to unpack there. 

L: Is it? 

E: *sigh* Alright, listen. I have a lot to say about… that, but we have only a limited amount of time, and I still don’t know anything about your murder. 

L: Hm.

E: Look, Levi. I am not here to merely condemn you for what you’ve done. I am here to decide if you are Forgiven or Unforgiven. But as of now, I have little to make that judgement. If you just explain what happened, I'm sure you'll be able to convince me to Forgive- augh!

*Chair being pushed, something falls*

L: Es? 

E: Ugh- *Shuffling noises* Stand down. I am fine. 

L: Are… you certain?

E: [Noticeably more serious] As I was saying. To make a proper judgement, I must be deeply aware of the intricacies of your crime. Explain yourself. 

L: Wait. Why did you just-?

E: Irrelevant. Zero One, explain yourself.

L: … Alright, I suppose? But unfortunately, it is probably for the best if I refrain from speaking of my crime. 

E: What- What do you mean, Levi?

L: I am… not good with words, either. I fear by attempting to explain myself, I will only make things worse. From what I understand, you will be able to see directly into my mind? I believe that would be the best way for you to truly understand what I’ve done.

E: Really? You know you won’t have control of what’s shown, right? For all you know, it could show things as worse than they actually are! Don’t you want to clarify things now that you can?

L: You speak as if I have full control of my words. Frankly, I fear that my temper might flare up if… if I think about that piece of shit for too long. 

E: !

L: Oh, apologies! I did not mean to... *sigh* See what I mean?

E: Oh! No, you just… startled me is all. Why don’t you tell me more about this, uh, piece of… the person you’re talking about?

L: …

E: …Why are you looking at me like you want to kill me?

L: Ah. Apologies. That anger was not directed at you. As I said, it is difficult for me to talk about… about him without growing angry. And that’s- that’s something I have been trying to work on.

E: I… see. That’s a shame. 

L: It is not important. I have always been of the opinion that actions define people better than words ever could, especially when it comes to me. That video will probably show you the circumstances of my crime much better than I ever could.

E: Hm… I understand! But, without knowing what it’s going to show, aren’t you worried I might not Forgive you for it?

L: Hm… If I am frank, I do not yet know how to feel about this… Forgiveness you speak of.

E: Oh?

L: Well, I believe I did the right thing. I am not sure your words would change my mind. So, I am not worried about what you think of me. 

E: Uh… do you even know what happens if you’re not Forgiven?

L: I do not. Can I ask what the consequences are?

E: …

L: … Do you… not know either?

E: I mean, it could be pretty bad, you know? 

L: That’s not very convincing-

*Machinery whirs*

L: Hm?

E: Oh. Looks like we ran out of time. The extraction machine is starting. 

L: I see. 

E: *sigh* Very well! I’ll keep your words in mind! Let’s see what your actions say about what kind of person you are.

L: I suppose that would be fair. 

E: In that case. 

Prisoner 01, Levi Fontana: sing your sins!

(Oh wow I actually wrote a full VD. I mean, I think it's shorter than normal VDs, but I ain’t writing all that. Hope that was good enough)

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Trial 1 Cover: Panda Hero by HACHI

(Because I am unburdened by the laws of the land (copyright), I can give these people any song to cover I want! Hehe. I’ll keep it Vocaloid only, you know, for fun. Probably imagine the covers in English, since the songs in the MVs are written to work in English)

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Music Video - Torn Stitches

(So obviously I’m not going to actually make a song, I am not a musician to any extent, but I will make lyrics. Text between brackets is explaining what’s going on musically. Text in parenthesis are author’s note. Text in italics and citation thingy are lyrics. The rest is a description of the video)

(Also because no one has to animate this I get to go a little wild hehe)

[Silence]

The video opens on a shot of Levi with a black background, wearing a plain white shirt, leggings and shoes, standing with a hand on his chin and his eyes closed. He’s surrounded by clothes racks full of similar white shirts. The shot widens through a doorway, showing the room Levi is standing in is lit up by bright blue lights, and its floor is made up of white tiles (like the thumbnail room). A small sign is visible over the doorway. It reads “For self-expression.”

[Drumsticks are hit against each other as an opener. The classic “1, 2, 3, 4”]

Levi opens his eyes. On beat with the drumsticks, the lighting in the room changes around him, along with the sign on the door.

Orange lighting fills the room as the sign reads “Streetwear.” There are several shirts and pants spread across the ground.

Then it’s red lighting alongside “For the family.” Mannequins (like the ones you'd find at clothes stores) without clothes surround Levi.

Purple lighting, “Work clothes.” Desks replace the mannequins. 

Finally, it switches back to blue with the “For self-expression” sign. 

[The music kicks in fully. Imagine… Oh it is hard to describe music when you know nothing about it huh? Just- vaguely punk rock, somewhat fast paced. Metaphorically, it sounds like someone’s anger boiling just under their skin. Think of the beginning of Kotoko’s cover of Anti-Beat extended across most of the song. Does that even fit the genre I said? I have no idea]

Still with blue light, there’s a shot of his back as he quickly puts on the light blue polo shirt he wears in canon. A pop-up appears, pointing at it with text reading:

Blue Polo Shirt

Casual, simple, pragmatic. The color could speak of a calm and reliable person, but it may come off as too cold by itself.

Next, a shot of his hand as he puts on a black fingerless glove.

Black Gloves

Stylish accessory which signifies a person of action. Black is easy to combine with other colors for good aesthetics. 

We see the top half of Levi’s body as he walks forward, a title card appearing to fill up time. The camera focuses on his feet, wearing black boots, as he steps though the door. It lingers for another pop-up to appear.

Black Boots

Stylish. Useful for people who walk a hard path.

[The music slows down to let the lyrics take center stage. Again, I’m sorta using Anti-Beat as a basis]

The sun rises in the East, But I can feel none of its warmth.

We’re still in the same room as before, except the lighting has changed to orange. Levi looks at several blank mannequins wearing different clothes and facing different ways. The shot focuses on three of them, and pop-ups appear for their clothes.

Light Green Dress

A welcoming color that may be worn by a friendly, calm person.

Yellow Shirt

A warm and happy color. The user might be going through a joyous moment of their life.

Blue Denim Shorts

Simple, safe choice, for someone who may pay attention to their appearance, but doesn’t think about it too much.

Black Tank Top

Sporty, good for athletic people. Safe choice, but may sometimes represent someone’s despair.

White Shorts

Perfect for going on a run in the warmer parts of the year.

It switches to another two.

Pink Dress

Simple and upbeat. Good for more cutesy aesthetics.

Orange Shirt

Warm, inviting, happy. Incidentally, it’s a complementary color to blue.

It’s hard for a heart to beat, (I) When it is frozen as a rock (II)

(I) The lighting changes to purple as we get a front-facing shot of Levi walking past a desk. A mannequin sits on the other side, and a pop-up appears on its clothes.

Suit and Tie

Professional, but uncomfortable. This particular user really needs the work, but they do not like it.

(II) Then, we see him next to another mannequin. Levi is staring at this one, which is facing a clothes rack. A pop-up appears on its clothes, but also on a green hoodie in the clothes rack.

Neon Yellow Hoodie

Apologies, this one is too hideous to analyze.

Light Green Hoodie

They’re going to pick this one. It’s better for their aesthetic.

Yet…

We get a close-up of Levi sighing.

[The music begins building up, with fast drum beats in between lyrics. The lyrics themselves are quick and abrupt]

I have to make it work

Now with red lighting, Levi is sitting at a table, eating spaghetti. He’s no longer wearing gloves.

Next to him sit two teenage boys (not mannequins) with short hair of the same color as Levi’s, though their eyes aren’t drawn. Plates of spaghetti are also in front of them. The one on Levi’s right (our left) is wearing the following shirt, with another pop-up.

Heartbreaker Shirt

His favorite. 

Meanwhile, on Levi’s left, the other boy’s shirt looks like this, with the pop-up:

Party Shirt

His favorite. 

For the ones that even I can love

The scene switches to the head of the table. On it sits an older man with glasses and a grey shirt with black stains. 

Glasses

He’s smart.

Grey Shirt.

His favorite.

The boy with the Party Shirt is still somewhat visible to the man’s right. To his left, another teenage boy, this one with hair covering his eyes and hunched over in his chair, who has this shirt:

Theater Shirt

His favorite.

A middle aged woman sits to that boy’s left, across from where Levi would be. She has long brown hair, and like the other two, her eyes aren’t drawn. She’s wearing bronze, reddish earrings shaped like camellias, and a black dress.

Bronze Earrings

A gift from my father. She likes them.

Black Dress 

Her favorite. 

The things they feel and I do not

The camera focuses on one last person, but only their smiling mouth and shirt are visible.

Skull Shirt

His favorite. 

I’ll take them all and with them sow…

Back to Levi, the table disappears, but he’s still sitting. The lighting has changed to blue, and now he’s only wearing the blue polo shirt (and grey pants). The two boys which had been next to him have changed into clothes hangers holding their shirts. Levi looks around confused, before his gaze lingers on making eye contact with the center of the screen. 

[Chorus! The instrumental kicks it up a notch. The lyrics are very growly, leaning on Levi’s deep voice to give them some power (what am I saying again?)]

A patchwork heart beating along! (I) Can’t collapse, now keep it warm! (II) Even if it’s freezing, I’ll just fix it, make the passion thaw! (III)

(I) The camera flips, and this is shown:

The heart pumps with the beat of the song. 

(II) Back to Levi, who quickly turns to the shirts on the clothes hanger. His expression still looks a bit aghast.

(III) The camera focuses on the Skull Shirt on a hanger, zooming in. It turns back to Levi, who becomes more serious. He nods. 

A patchwork heart beating along!  Can’t collapse, now keep it warm!  Even if it’s freezing, I’ll just fix it, make the passion thaw! 

As the chorus repeats, Levi grabs the shirt he was looking at. Then, we get a few frames of him sowing things just off screen. Shots of needles, thread, that kinda stuff. 

[There’s a small instrumental part to keep the energy from the chorus for a bit longer] 

We get a full shot of the heart, which now looks like this:

Then, we see Levi smiling looking at it. However, he then frowns. 

A patchwork heart beating along!

The camera focuses on one of the black sections of the heart, the one which before just had fire. Now, the full symbol the Skull Shirt had is seen; skull and fire. 

[More instrumental for a moment]

Levi looks on perturbed. Suddenly, he startles and turns around. 

[Back to verse music]

All lives yearn for a yarn to spin, (I) Yet I fear I’m losing the thread. (II)

(I) Purple lighting. The same mannequin as before, wearing the same neon yellow hoodie, is holding out the green hoodie from before for Levi to see. 

(II) We zoom in on Levi’s face, as he turns to the side, and frowns a bit.

The mirror used to build up what’s “me”, I see it now, it starts to break.

Without overhead lighting, we see a full body mirror showing a completely different scene, which becomes clearer as we zoom in further. On our left, we see a mannequin wearing a grey hoodie, an orange spotlight shining on it. On our right, the boy with the Skull Shirt looks animated, his mouth open as if talking to the mannequin. His hair is the same color as the others’, except for red highlights (think the blond part of Mikoto’s hair). There is a red spotlight on him. A pop-up appears pointing at the mannequin’s hoodie.

Grey Hoodie

Commonly used by villains.

Yet…

We further zoom in on the mannequin’s right hand, which is stained by a splatter of black liquid.

[Chorus build-up again]

If I could get it right

The purple lighting returns as Levi looks back at the mannequin with the yellow hoodie. He nods, and we get a close up of him snapping his fingers. 

But there’s little that I can do fine

The mannequin now has blush on, wearing the green hoodie with a yellow shirt underneath. It’s also wearing a deep purple skirt. A pop-up.

Proposed Outfit

At least I’m not bad at this. 

Even smaller things feel like they’re too much

Red lighting, on a shot of Levi’s back. He turns around, but we can’t see his face. The shot switches to show the back of the “skull shirt” boy, again lit up by a red spotlight. We also see as the back of the grey hoodie mannequin from before, hand still stained and still lit up by an orange spotlight. The boy is talking to the mannequin again, gesturing towards it, but now he’s wearing a grey hoodie which is hanging off one of his shoulders. His hand is stained by a splatter of black liquid. 

It just feels like there’s no helping my…

The shot zooms in on the stained hand. 

We get a close up of Levi’s mouth, red lighting still noticeable. He snarls.

[Chorus again]

Patchwork heart beating along! (I) Can’t collapse, now keep it warm! (II) Even if it’s freezing, (III) come on fix it, make the passion thaw! (IV)

(I) We see the heart beating to the beat again, once more with blue lighting, and now it looks like this:

(II) We switch to Levi sitting, looking slightly up as if staring at the heart, expression serious. 

(III) We get a different shot of Levi, now hunched over while sitting on a chair. His expression is still serious. Something out of focus is covering the foreground, and Levi turns to look at it. 

(IV) The camera flips to the thing he was staring at. It’s the purple sleeveless jacket he wears in canon, as well as his canon set of purple gloves and his pink tie. Pop-ups!

Purple Jacket

My favorite. Reminds me of work.

Pink Tie

Stylish yet professional. Reminds me of work.

Magenta Gloves

Comfortable. Cover a lot. Remind me of work. 

A patchwork heart beating along! (I) Can’t collapse, now keep it warm! (II) Even if it’s freezing, (III) I’ll just fix it, make the passion thaw! (IV)

(I) We switch to the purple boots he wears in canon. Levi’s out of focus in the background.

Purple Boots

Comfortable. Remind me of work. 

(II) We get another shot of Levi looking at the clothes, with a contemplative expression. The heart can be seen beating in the background. 

(III) Close-up of Levi sighing.

(IV) Another shot of the jacket and gloves, except now Levi grabs them. 

[Unlike last time, the music doesn’t linger, but rather switches to a bridge. The music is still pretty energetic, but less powerful than in the chorus]

Perhaps it would be better… (I) To give up and let it be, (II) Worse to burn rather than freeze (III)

(I) Levi contemplates the clothes he grabbed. 

(II) We cut to him putting an arm through the purple jacket. 

(III) The jacket is now hanging off one of his shoulders, as he’s putting the other hand through the hole where the sleeve would be. Before he fully puts it on, he looks to the side. 

But still, I would regret it… (I) Abandoning them all, (II) Let the core of my soul rot (III)

(I) We see the grey hoodie mannequin again. Still lit up by the orange spotlight, still with black liquid on its hands. Skull Shirt boy is also there, again lit up red, again talking, again with a grey hoodie hanging off his shoulder, again with stains on his hands.

This time, though, the other three boys from the table scene are also there. They’re all lit up by red spotlights, and they all also have grey hoodies hanging off one shoulder. Heartbreaker Shirt and Party Shirt have similar talkative expressions, while Theater Shirt is hunched over with a placid smile on his face.

(II) The screen splits in three zoomed in shots of the new boys’ hands. They’re all stained with black liquid. 

(III) Back to a shot of Levi’s face with blue lighting, he seems to be staring at the other boys with a concerned expression. In the background, a clothes hanger with a grey hoodie comes into focus. 

So, instead… 

We get a close-up of Levi’s chest, and we see his mouth as he sighs. The jacket falls off his shoulder. 

[Pre-chorus music again]

I have to make things right

Close-up of the clothes hanger with the grey hoodie, and Levi grabs it roughly. As the music-only part plays, we get a shot of his back at an angle as he looks at the hoodie, his jacket fully off.

Protect them all, just one last time

We see Levi putting on the hoodie. First one arm, then the other. He puts on brass knuckles. Pop-ups:

Grey Hoodie

…

Brass Knuckles

…

We focus on his head as he throws the hoodie over it. The lighting fades into orange. 

Doesn’t matter there’s no going back

The shot focuses back on the mannequin with the hoodie, orange spotlight still there. The camera is shaking. The shot goes back to Levi, who is walking at first, but then starts running. 

After all, there is no saving my…

There’s quick flashing between Levi running with orange lighting and the grey hoodie, with a background that slowly turns white; then the thumbnail image; back to the grey hoodie; then a shot of Levi’s back as he stares at the heart with blue lighting. The Levi that stares at the heart is wearing his canon outfit (purple jacket - gloves - boots).

[The music goes silent, a preparation for a beat drop]

The video slows down as we focus on the grey hoodie mannequin. The camera “blinks” and the mannequin turns into a human; a scraggly man with an uneven beard and short black hair, wearing the same grey hoodie. He's facing away, but turns around as the camera closes in. The environment changes; the colored lighting disappears, and we are now in an alleyway. 

A shot of Levi from the man’s back, as Levi braces for a right hook.

Patchwork heart (I) beating along! (II) Just once more, weather the storm! (III) Even if it’s freezing, I can’t fix it, it will never thaw! (IV)

(I) A close-up of the man’s stomach, as Levi’s punch connects with his gut. 

(II) Right as the punch connects, the scene switches to one of the heart’s stitches, between the Party Shirt and the Theater Shirt. Levi’s hand is now grabbing those stitches, and he pulls on them. The camera follows his hand as he rips them from the heart, blue blood splattering all over.

(III) Back to the alleyway, the man shoves Levi away. He throws a left hook at Levi’s face, but Levi ducks to his left and throws his own left hook at the man’s stomach. 

(IV) The scene again switches to the heart, with Levi grabbing the stitches between the Skull Shirt section and the Heartbreaker section with his left hand. The shot quickly switches to Levi’s face, which is splattered with blue blood. He frowns. Back to the heart, and Levi’s fist clenches.

Ripping, bleeding out a song! (I) Break it now, (II) then have it sown! (III) Patchwork heart beating alone! (IV) I will keep on living, (V) even living with my stitches torn! (VI) 

(I) Again, Levi rips out the stitches, causing blue blood to splatter.

(II) Back to the alley, we get a close-up of the man falling to one knee from pain. Levi raises his right fist…

(III) Back to the blue lighting, black background and heart. Levi’s holding up loose threads with blue blood on his raised right hand.

(IV) Back to the alleyway, we get a shot from the man’s back as Levi punches him in the head with his brass knuckles, recreating his Undercover killshot. The man spits out (red) blood. 

(V) A shot of Levi from behind his ankles, the man’s body lying still in the background, blood under him.

(VI) The shot pans up quickly, switching back to the heart scene as “stitches torn” is sung. We get one good look at the heart, which is now fully blue, but filled with gashes where the stitches used to be. 

[The music begins winding down for the ending]

The shot pans backwards to let us see Levi’s back, the heart beating more slowly and not with the beat anymore. He’s wearing his full canon outfit. There’s a glitch effect as the heart disappears, and the lighting changes to orange, but Levi’s outfit doesn’t change. The room is completely empty, but there’s (red) blood splatters on the floor.

My stitches torn!

The lighting changes to red, and while Levi’s clothes don’t change, the room is now completely barren. A few moments after, the lighting changes to purple, the same desks from the beginning surrounding Levi who, you guessed, hasn’t changed clothes.

The shot zooms in on Levi’s back, as he sighs.

[The music fades out, save for one last lyric]

Patchwork heart beating along!

He turns around, the screen glitches again as he does. The lighting is now white, and the background has changed to the wall with the height marks of one of the Undercover cells. Levi’s clothes change to the Milgram uniform, and he holds up his Undercover prisoner card. A final pop-up appears on the uniform.

Strange Clothes

The outfit of a murderer

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MonoTV: I see you’ve made it to the end of the post!

Es: Huh?

M: Now, it’s time to hand out the verdict! Make sure to think carefully, you only have one vote, and one week to decide how you’re gonna vote!

E: Wait, who are you talking to?

M: Will you make the right choice? Or the wrong one? 

E: Uh…

M: Trick question! There is no right choice! It’s just a choice!

E: Hello? Is there anyone there? 

M: With that, it’s…

VOTING TIME!!!

[loverboy-cc]

I had to restart his save since it got corrupted- which means it’s time for a new ref!!

I’ve committed to the fact that this man dresses like an 80s dad in any modern au.

Tries very hard to read as the ideal paladin, good morals, strong sense of justice n what have you. He is unfortunately full of trauma and identity issues, fear of his god is a HUGE THING and breaking his oath accidentally is a perpetual anxiety too.

I’ve also decided he has the shittiest, patchy ass beard. Usually he’s clean shaven bc he doesn’t like having facial hair but he’s not quite adept enough with a dagger to shave with one and tries exactly once to shave (failing miserably, much to Astarion’s entertainment) before giving up until act 3 when he buys himself a new razor.

I really should draw him holding the blood of lathander more but that mf is agonizing to draw man there are, so many layers to it.

I finally remembered to draw his glasses on his ref, yippee.

I’m making him an actual dnd character sheet so I’ll probably attach that once it’s done

I’m side tracked I’m supposed to be talking about his lore huh

Whoops

Anyway, tw for abandoment (passing mention) emotional abuse, death (of a parent + en masse,) mental illness that’s being ignored, chronic pain and illness (also being ignored until he can’t)

His actual like- lore lore is below the break.

Born in the underdark, his mom fucked off with him bc the underdark isn’t a great place to live generally speaking, and she had the means. His dad decided last minute to stay in the underdark.

Taken in by the temple of lathander in elturel bc his mother was chronically ill and not expecting or able to be making this kind of journey on her own with a very small child. Ended up being moved from the temple to a hospital after it was determined that she probably wasn’t getting better.

Charlie ended up being mostly raised by the temple, went to school there and was taught how to read and write + basic math. But spent most of his free time working to pay for his mother’s (and soon his own) medication.

Turns out the of the myriad of issues his mother delt with (migraines, persistent nausea and dizziness, chronic joint issues) were genetic, so by time he hit puberty he was working his ass off to pay for it.

You may ask me “cake, didn’t that aggravate his joint issues?” Yes. Badly. He was not given any other options, the fact that they were alive at all was a godsend (I use the word godsend intentionally, he believes, strongly, that lathander is keeping him alive for some reason beyond his understanding, that is the root of his devotion.)

Did you order mommy issues? Hope so bc he has them in spades. You can only be hear your dying mom say she regrets saving you life as a literal toddler so many times before it starts fucking you up, and she said it (and other delightful(/sarc) things) plenty in the months leading up to when she died.

Shortly after her death, and suddenly needing to work way less (his medication was significantly cheaper than his mothers) he devoted himself to the temple, and was eventually approached bc some kids he went to school with to see if he wanted to join their little class thing. The temple liked to train their folks in groups of 4, in hopes of building strong teams should they choose to stay together.

He agreed, and found out that the temple would pay for his medication in exchange for dedicating himself fully to his training and his studies (and occasionally them using him as a scout, being small, naturally stealthy, and decently quick had its advantages.)

Took his oath with one of the other people he was trained alongside when he was 17, and they were collectively sent to continue their training at the nearby Fort Morninglord.

Things were solid, until he was sent along with a group of seniors to Baldurs Gate as a sort of test to see how he would do on a longer mission before officially joining the Order of the Aster.

He did well, all things considered. Unfortunately between him leaving and returning is when Fort Morninglord got eaten by the shadowfell for some reason. (That’s a canon event btw)

So, with all his friends presumably dead, maybe worse, and all his shit left inside a heavily guarded, very cursed fort. He did the reasonable thing, and fucked right off.

He ended up joining one of the seniors he went to Baldur’s Gate with in going to Waterdeep, while they didn’t particularly need another paladin. The temple of lathander in Waterdeep accepted them both until they were able to find stable employment.

Charlie mainly did small jobs for merchants, working as a guard for high value stuff, moving cargo on/off boats, mostly physical labour. It didn’t pay particularly well, but he could afford a little room above a tavern, and his medication.

That’s where he was, and how he lived for almost 130 years until he got wormed.

May or may not be blindly devoted to Lathander bc of… all that. literally any bad thing to occur to him is swiftly written off as a test of his faith, surprising to damn near everyone he is not one for converting people. (He definitely reads like he would though, it’s the theology special interest, there are few gods he won’t speak extensively on. He just defaults to lathander)

Fr though? Having trouble finding a god to worship? Ask him, he will give you an answer or more accurately- a list.

Yknow when you sprinkle random facts into your characters to make them less flat? Yeah my man collects maps, particularly outdated ones.

The only reason he’s not fucked post-worm is bc it fends off the worst of his usual symptoms. He has conflicted feelings about it (on one hand, being able to put honey in his coffee and not feel like his brain is exploding is nice, on the other, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.)

Post game he is left in a… state. He’s gotten used to life with less pain and is absolutely bedridden for a WHILE bc suddenly he’s being hit with his usual pain n symptoms but he’s not used to it anymore so it’s absolutely destroying him.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi! It's an au twilight question.

What if Edward and Bella did the nasty in early New moon. Then the party happens and the Cullens leave. Bella discovers she's pregnant with Renesmee. What do you think what would happen?

A very interesting question, anon. One that will go very interesting places, I'm sure.

That said, as usual, because I'm a completionist, we have to go through the "why no canon?" routine. Bear with me, I simply must.

Why Didn't Edward and Bella Do the Nasty Pre-Breaking Dawn?

For all that Edward is, for all his... questionable morals and sexual fixations, he does have a moral code he strictly holds himself to.

Edward is adamantly against having sex with Bella in terror of the very real possibility that he will murder her in the act. He's very clear about this, he didn't think he could do it, at all, and only his sheer desperation that Bella never be turned, his desire to marry Bella, as well as Alice's thumbs up convinced him to do it.

If Bella was a reasonable person then she would have agreed as well. Sex with Edward, while she's human, is a bad idea. However, Bella never really seems to clue in on what vampires even are so I think the Man of Steel on Woman of Kleenex aspect is lost on her.

Had Alice not given the green light, I imagine Edward would have gone back to the drawing board and ended up either here or here. Bella turning is the worst possible outcome and Edward will risk almost anything, even Bella's death, to see it avoided.

But that doesn't mean it's an action he takes lightly.

He suggests pimping Bella out to Jake before he suggests sleeping with her himself. For Edward, this is a last resort.

More, Edward is a man of his time.

Edward was from an upper class family and, more to the point, still holds himself to the standards of the society he knew when human (much to Bella's amusement).

Edward wistfully talks about courting Bella, how he would have courted her had he been a true man in the time period he was familiar with, and why marriage to him is so very important.

That Edward doesn't seek out the approval of Charlie, Bella's father, is a hilarious aside to me. Edward's all about chivalry until all those old society standards get in his way.

What do you mean a gentleman doesn't sneak into a lady's apartments in the middle of the night to watch her slumber unawares?!

Regardless, marriage is extremely important to Edward, especially in the context of sex.

Edward will absolutely not have sex with a woman who is not first his wife. He also will not marry a girl that society defines as underage, he will wait until Bella's legal and probably until she finishes her primary schooling.

This means Edward was never likely to have sex with her before graduation and certainly not before her eighteenth birthday.

Which, at the earliest, puts her past the New Moon birthday bash.

Edward and Bella Do the Do Anyway

But let's pretend they do it anyway.

I'd say the most likely scenario is after the birthday disaster. This is it, Edward knows he is leaving Bella forever, if he is truly noble then he will never see her again.

Certainly, he will never interact with her nor hold her in his arms. To Edward, this is essentially his last true night on Earth.

So rather than pull a partial D.E.N.N.I.S. system, Edward pulls the full D.E.N.N.I.S. system, he initiates the "I" he was previously missing, "Inspire Hope". Or, in this case, get laid for the first and only time in his life.

He sneaks in through her window. They make beautiful, passionate, tepid love so Edward does not crush her in the act, and as she sleeps blissfully in the aftermath he sneaks back out the window to never be seen again.

(It takes Bella a week to admit that Edward just hit and run. The Cullens aren't coming back.)

However, because Edward didn't actually point blank tell her what was happening, rather than hit her New Moon stage of depression, Bella's instead in denial.

The Cullens are coming back. What, Carlisle has a new job? No, that can't be right, they're coming back. Alice would never leave her without a word. Edward would never leave her without a word.

Jessica pats Bella on the back consolingly and is secretly glad that it's not her. She might have been dumped by Edward Cullen, but at least he didn't humiliate her the way he did Bella Swan.

Leaving without a single word, yikes.

Two weeks go by then Bella gets the flu.

In a single day, she's unable to keep down anything. Huh, that's weird. Very quickly, Bella has her tampon epiphany. Bella is not a virgin, she had sex with Edward, she's late, and she appears to have a baby bump.

Bella is carrying Edward's child.

There is no question of aborting the child. This is Edward's child, the only piece she has left of him, even without Renesmee's gift it's ride or die. Bella is delivering this child even if it kills her.

However, she has some immediate issues.

First, she's visibly pregnant, it's been only two weeks. That's not supposed to happen. More, Charlie is bound to notice sooner rather than later, Bella would like to avoid that, the stigma of teen pregnancy, as well as the inhuman complications that are sure to come along.

Second, there's inhuman complications. Bella can't just go to an OBGYN, not even a town over. She's carrying something half human, a doctor will poke around and find that out, and then Bella's blowing the secret.

Bella knows vaguely of the Volturi at this point, but not the severity of the law, it's more that she promised Edward she would never tell a soul.

Plus, a human doctor wouldn't be able to help anyway.

That leaves vampires.

Bella tries to call/email the Cullens. However, thanks to Edward, all their numbers are disconnected and all their emails no longer exist. Her "Alice, help, I'm pregannant" messages are sent to a void.

(Alice, meanwhile, thinks she's finally successful in blocking visions of Bella. At least Edward will be off her back. Without the cliff diving and Jake, Alice does not assume Bella has died/committed suicide.)

A brief internet survey also yields Bella no results, but it does get her a lot of vampire porn. Thanks internet.

Bella... starts to get worried.

She's getting more and more pregnant in a matter of days, Charlie is starting to notice that she can't keep anything down, and the Cullens aren't taking her phone calls.

Then, Bella has it, she remembers that weird baroque painting Carlisle had of him and those Italian vampire dudes: the Volturi. Conveniently named after the city they live in, Volterra, Italy.

Bella debates her options.

Edward told her that these are the guys who make sure that humans who know the secret disappear. Well, Bella is a human who knows the secret, that's bad. Also bad is that they eat people, Bella is a person.

On the other hand, Edward implied these guys are civilized and friends of Carlisle. That's... good? Bella isn't sure she's on good terms with the Cullens, given the whole abrupt leaving thing, but maybe they don't have to know that.

Bella debates with herself, tries to look up the Denali, and only finds the National Park. She has no idea where these guys even live, or what they even look like besides "blonde hot vampire", and she's short on time. Plus, they are close with the Cullens, so the Cullens probably did tell them "Ew, Bella, No Gross, Do Not Want".

Because the Cullens all hate her now.

Bella has some money saved up, and this is probably a one way trip, and if she doesn't go then... well, it's not looking good. Bella musters up her courage, tells Charlie some outrageous fib to explain why she's disappearing off the face of the planet, and books a flight to Rome, then Pisa, then a bus ride to Volterra.

Bella subsists completely on blue gateorade, this doesn't go well, and she vomits blue in the parking lot.

Regardless, she makes it, huzzah she is in Volterra. It's sunny out and there are no vampires. Bella wanders around the city and looks for the most vampire building she can find.

Luckily, she happens to be right, and it's the very central castle. Well done, Bella.

Bella walks in and spots a vampire. She also spots a receptionist, Bella is very confused. Never the less, Bella says the magic words, "I'm a... friend of Carlisle Cullen?"

Even though Bella doesn't have Aro's name (or any of the other Volturi for that matter), Carlisle's name does the trick. Anyone who works for Aro knows that name.

Color Aro intrigued, he will meet this pregnant woman! (Caius, meanwhile, votes that they eat her immediately out of spite.)

Well, Aro touches her hand and lo and behold she's scarily gifted. And she knows Carlisle, what a great day to be Aro.

Aro explains that everything's totally fine with her knowing the secret, it just means they have to turn her eventually, after she gives birth of course.

Bella stares at him numbly and wonders why Edward made this such a big deal if it was that easy.

Aro insists Bella start from the beginning, as in the very beginning of her life. This is weird, but Bella complies.

An hour later they get to the interesting part: Bella meets Carlisle (and Edward Cullen, Aro guesses). Aro gets to hear the whole, sordid, ridiculous tale of Bella and Edward's romance including the part where he fucked her and ran off into the night.

Aro is stunned.

He first apologizes for the Cullens behavior, they should absolutely not have abandoned her, and not turning her was completely irresponsible (what the hell was Carlisle thinking?)

He then gives the bad news, he... has never heard of anything like this.

You see, normal vampires don't have sex with humans. It isn't done.

Also, there's this thing called Immortal Children (Edward tell you about that, no? Well, he probably thought it wasn't relevant). That thing your carrying might not be a child capable of growth but an insatiable monster.

Or it could be the alien from Aliens.

There's no way to tell, really.

BUT NO NEED TO WORRY, BELLA, THEY WILL FIGURE THIS OUT.

Aro promises Bella his protection and a period of observation for the child. Bella's not sure she likes that observation part, but this seems like a pretty sweet deal otherwise.

As for what to do, well, Aro has to call in the foremost vampire medical expert. Sorry, Bella, but there's only one man for the job.

Aro sends out Demetri to find Carlisle.

Demetri shows up on Carlisle's doorstep, "Carlisle, old friend, Aro has need of you. Your son knocked up a human girl."

Carlisle blinks, blinks again, then does a thousand yard stare. My God.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Edward is already on Victoria's tail. Carlisle tries to call him, to no avail, Edward isn't taking his phone calls.

Alice and Jasper are already on their trip to hunt down Alice's past. Plus, given the Volturi, they'd be unlikely to come anyway. Carlisle sends them a message.

Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett travel to Volterra to clean up Edward's mess.

And sure enough, there's Bella, very pregnant with a child that is very much not human. Carlisle dies inside, Rosalie's on a warpath that Edward would abandon his pregnant girlfriend to the point where the only place she could turn was human drinking vampires.

Rosalie takes it upon herself to leave Edward the world's angriest voice messages until he returns her phone calls.

Aro's delighted to see Carlisle again. Even if he does have a wife now. Also, Aro claims finders keepers for Bella, Carlisle's not happy about this and less happy that Aro points out that if Edward cared so much he wouldn't be absent right now, would he?

They figure out the blood drinking thing, Carlisle desperately raids a hospital to prevent Bella from being fed the leftovers of the Volturi victims. This likely doesn't work out for him.

At the last possible moment, Edward finally picks up his phone. He learns that all he's tried to accomplish failed spectacularly. Bella is pregnant with his demon child, is literally drinking blood, and is in Vampire HQ with the leader insisting she will be turned immediately after the C-section.

Edward races to Volterra and strides into the room demanding Bella be aborted and remain human.

Aro stares.

Carlisle awkwardly explains that Bella's too far along, it's too late now even if they wanted to, more she adamantly doesn't want to abort and never did.

As for Bella being human... Bella pipes in that she's cool on becoming the vampire part. Aro's a great guy. She then races to embrace Edward, he's come back, after all this time. And he's going to be a father, isn't that wonderful?

Edward loses his mind.

And because this is Edward, I have no idea what he'll do, only it'll be utter madness. This is my best guess.

To be a little more serious, he probably tries to abort the child anyway, he mercy kills Bella and the child, or Renesmee manages to get through to him.

Given canon, it's likely the latter. Bella is convinced that her and Edward's relationship is perfect.

Aro has no idea what to think of any of this.

[n00dl3gal]

Like Old Times (Father-Son Bonding AU)

A direct sequel to the “Expiration Date” fic, which I’ll link in a reblog. I’ve also posted all my fics in this AU to AO3!! Thanks again to @thetriggeredhappy for their help and just generally being a cool dude, and the Scoutsune Discord server for indulging my brainrot

No warnings beyond family schmoop!

Less than an hour after the bread monster incident, the Administrator called for a ceasefire. “Only while your base is repaired,” she said over the TV screen. “BLU is quite disappointed in this negligence- as am I. Regardless, you may use these three days as you see fit. Go home, stay here- whatever you do, no more bread monsters.” The screen turned off with a click. 

Scout exhaled through his nose. He was thankful there was no mention of him or Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

Spy decloaked behind him. “Less time than I wanted, but c’est la vie.” Scout looked at him over his shoulder. “I’m meeting with an old contact during our break,” Spy said in Italian. “Would you like to come along? It’ll be like old times.” 

Scout’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. At least this way, he’d get out of helping Engie and Heavy with repairs. And possibly meeting Miss Pauling’s woodchipper. 

“Excellent. Our flight is at 7 AM tomorrow.” 

“We’re flying commercial?” Scout asked, also in (more hesitant) Italian. 

“Our destination is continental. We’ll leave the base by 5:30.” Scout groaned as Spy started to leave. But- wait, he hadn’t- 

“Oi, where are we going, anyway?” he called back in English. 

Spy paused to look at him and smile. “Boston.” 

“Why do we always get the ass-crack-of-dawn flights?” Jeremy asked groggily, reclining his seat.

“They are the ones with first-class seats available,” Raphael replied. He took a sip from his mimosa. 

“Yeah, cuz God forbid you fly coach for once.” Jeremy shifted, trying to get comfortable. “Hey. Have I ever been to Boston before?”

Raphael didn’t answer immediately. His lip sucked in, as if in thought. “Yes. When you were very, very young. You wouldn’t remember.” 

Jeremy nodded. He wanted to ask more, there was something Raphael wasn’t saying but… well, he was never a morning person. He fell asleep before the plane even took off. 

. . .

It was mid-afternoon by the time they landed in Boston. Jeremy was never fond of long flights; having his legs cramped like that for extended periods of time was murder. He was half tempted to take a jog around Logan International. Raphael, on the other hand, was ushering them both to the car rental. “Can’t even get a stretch in, huh?”

“Unfortunately, we are expected by 4, and I would hate to keep my contact waiting,” Raphael explained in French, accepting the keys from the girl at the counter. “She’s not a very patient woman, in some regards.” 

Jeremy huffed but didn’t argue. He just followed his father to the rental, tossing his suitcase in the backseat. “Y’know, the girl at the counter-” 

“We will not have time for you to go out on a date, Jeremy.” 

“No! No, it was- her accent’s kinda like mine, it’s weird,” Jeremy said. Raphael started the car. “Cuz I’ve only been here as a baby, and I got mine from TV and shit. It’s just… really strange, is all.” 

Raphael made a quiet noise of agreement. “Some of the shows you watched as a child were filmed here. It’s not as complex as you think it is.” 

“Yeah, probably not…” 

The pair lapsed into silence as Raphael drove. Storefronts and high rises morphed into houses. It had been a while since they were in a residential area. RED, for understandable reasons, kept away from civilians. 

Raphael took the roads with practiced experience. Sure, it had been implied he knew the area. If he had a contact here- one with a house, presumably- he must’ve spent time here. But this- this was far too familiar. A bit suspicious, actually. 

Eventually, Raphael slowed in front of a more rundown Brownstone. Still quite nice, just needed a little work. It felt… welcoming, in a way Jeremy couldn’t name.

“Lotta cars,” he observed as Raphael parallel parked. “Must be a party going on somewhere.” 

“Hmm, perhaps,” Raphael said, turning the car off. “Would you mind ringing the doorbell for me? I need to grab something from the trunk. Ask for Sara Jane.” 

OK, now Jeremy knew something was up. He was never the one to make the first contact, that was always Dad’s job. Jeremy might be a full-grown adult, but there were some things that didn’t change. This was one of them. 

Still, he nodded. He climbed up the front steps and ringed the doorbell. He heard- multiple voices from inside, predominantly male, but they quickly silenced themselves. A TV, perhaps? They really ought to get that flower box on the second story window fixed- 

The woman who opened the door was a bit shorter than him, though not by much. She was wearing a simple dress, hoop earrings, and flats. Her hair was dark, curved to her chin. But her nose and earlobes felt… achingly familiar. Like Jeremy saw them all the time. 

“Um, hi, I’m looking for Sara Jane? My name’s-” The rest of his speech was knocked out of him as the woman launched herself at him. Jeremy braced for an attack, but quickly realized she was… hugging him. 

She was hugging him, sobbing, and choked out the word “Jeremy.” 

Wait. He knew that voice. He had only heard it a few times in his life, few enough he could count them on one hand, but he knew it. “M-Ma?” he whispered. 

The woman- Sara Jane- Ma looked up at him, still crying. Her hands found his face as she observed him. “Y-yeah, sweetie, it’s me, it’s-it’s your ma,” she said. 

“Ma!” he laughed, tears of his own dancing down his cheeks. He hugged her back, practically lifting her off her feet. “Oh my God, Ma! I-I never thought I’d-” 

“Oh Jeremy, sweetie, look how tall you’ve gotten! Last I saw you, you fit in my arms! My baby, my handsome baby,” she spoke over him. She rubbed circles into his back as they embraced. It felt so, so right. 

Jeremy laughed even harder. “Are you kiddin’? I got it from you, you’re beautiful, Ma!” He stared at her, trying to commit every mole and wrinkle and perfect flaw to memory. “I can’t believe- oh my God, I’m actually meeting you!” 

“It was long overdue,” another voice said, as Raphael joined them on the front stoop. “I had put it off for safety reasons, but considering our current, ah, situation… I felt it was worth the risk.” 

Sara Jane squealed, pulling Raphael into the hug as well. “You’ve been taking good care of my boy, you promise me, Raphael?” 

“Don’t worry Ma, he’s the best dad I could ask for, considering,” Jeremy teased. 

“Oh, don’t I know it. Called me up last night and told me to get the whole motley crew together. Even managed to get Melvin to bring his twin daughters, bless his wife’s heart,” she explained. 

Jeremy blinked. “Uh- Melvin? Daughters?”

Sara Jane laughed. It sounded so much like Jeremy’s it practically hurt. This was his mother. Lord, he’s finally seeing her. “Melvin’s your older brother, sweetie. Eh, sixth oldest. Bobby’s the oldest.” 

“I have a brother?”

“Oh honey, you’re the youngest of eight,” Sara Jane said plainly. 

“...fuck,” Jeremy whispered. 

. . .

He didn’t just have seven brothers. He had seven brothers, four of which brought their wives, one who brought his boyfriend, and three who brought their kids. And the kids totaled to an additional six, counting the babies. 

It was… an admittedly tight squeeze in the living room. 

Sara Jane introduced Jeremy. Jeremy had been expecting to be treated like a stranger. He had vanished when he was a baby, after all, and his younger-older brothers probably wouldn’t remember him at all. 

And yet, it was like he knew them all his life. 

They teased him and punched him playfully and acted so friendly, so familial it nearly made Jeremy break down. He was still crying from meeting Ma, but being dogpiled with so much affection was suffocating. In a good way. He had seen on sitcoms the intrinsic bond between family, and while he felt it with Dad, they also risked their lives nearly daily. But it was real, it was here, and it was wrapping him in a warm blanket. 

Despite the chaos and the sheer number of people, Jeremy didn’t feel overwhelmed. He laughed and played along with their jokes, cracking some back when he could get a word in. Scott ragged on his dog tags, he countered by pointing out the hole in his pants. Michael told him he was still a shortass, he replied with “it takes one to know one.” Elliot and Ricky were the closest to actually getting hurt, and that was only because Jeremy elbowed them both so hard they nearly fell over. 

For the first time in 25 years, Jeremy understood what “home” meant. 

The kids were especially curious, eager to meet their uncle and step-grandfather. Within seconds, young Rebecca- only four years old- was challenging Jeremy to a race around the house. “I’m the fastest kid in the world,” she bragged, puffing out her chest. 

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy asked. “That a fact?”

“You wanna test me? I beat Johnny Three-Legs at running, and he’s got three legs!” Jeremy laughed and stood from the couch, letting her lead him outside. “On the count of three, OK?”

“You’re on, pipsqueak,” Jeremy teased.

“Onetwothree GO!” Rebecca yelled, taking off in a sprint. Jeremy knew that, by all accounts, he should beat her. His legs were longer, she didn’t have the proper running stance, and it was his job to be fast. That’s what he got paid to do. But some small voice was telling him to let her win, so he did. “Ha! I told ya!” 

“Ya sure did,” he replied, mock panting. “Look at you, a freaking blur on the green. You’re goin’ to the Olympics, kid.” 

Rebecca beamed and hugged his leg. “Promise, Uncle Jeremy?” He nodded because, after that display, there was no way he could speak without squeaking like a chew toy. 

Rebecca skipped back inside, past Raphael, who was watching on the stoop. “You’re a natural with children,” he observed. “I used to do the same thing when you were that age.” 

“Wait- wait, really? You sure fooled me,” Jeremy said. 

Raphael rolled his eyes. “What’s my job again, mon lapin?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jeremy leaned against the railing, watching Raphael’s cigarette smoke in the wind. “Hey. Uh… thanks for arranging all of this. You really didn’t need to.”

“But I did. I meant it when I said this was overdue. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to the rest of the family for a while, but have been unable. Then that whole ordeal with the supposed tumors, and-” Raphael exhaled slowly. “It wouldn’t have been fair to you if you died without knowing them. I would’ve never forgiven myself.” 

Jeremy punched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, pops. It all worked out, we’re still kicking, and that roast chicken Ma’s making smells incredible. Everything’s perfect.” 

Raphael finished his cigarette and smiled. “Oui. It is.” 

. . .

While Sara Jane had been able to get the rest of the family here, it was a school night. Kids needed to be tucked in by 9:30, so most of Jeremy’s brothers were gone by 8. Elliot was staying overnight, as was his boyfriend. Otherwise, the house quickly went from bustling to barren. 

It gave Jeremy a chance to explore his would-be childhood home.

He made his way upstairs, pushing open one of the doors. It led- to little surprise- to a bedroom. It was set up like a nursery, with a crib in one corner and a toddler bed in the other. Toys were scattered about across the floor. 

He heard Sara Jane sigh behind him. “This was your room, you know.” Jeremy turned to look at her as she flipped the light switch. “That crib… I had put you to bed the night your father planned to fake his death. I was in on the whole plan, naturally. He wanted to hold you one last time, so I said OK. When I woke up the next morning… you were both gone.” She exhaled slowly, grabbing onto his shoulder. “I wrote both of you off as dead, but I knew what had happened. Honestly, should’ve figured it out before then. You hadn’t woken me up crying,” she joked. Her eyes were watering. 

Jeremy hugged her, pulling her close. “You never took the crib down?” 

“By the time I was ready, Bobby’s wife was pregnant, so I kept it up for my grandbabies. I knew- I knew you were out there, sweetie. Both of you.” She kissed his cheek, squeezing him.

“I-I never got to be a normal kid, really,” he confessed. “I mean, Dad did his best, gave me comic books and board games and stuff, but-but I never went to school or made friends or anything like that. I-I didn’t even know I had a family. It took me forever to even realize I had a Ma. An-and everything I did-” The tears were flowing again, more freely than earlier. “Ya missed me losing my first tooth, and potty trainin’, and all that stuff parents should know about. I-I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Sara Jane wiped his cheek dry. “Don’t apologize for what your father did, Jeremy. And definitely don’t apologize for me not potty training another kid. Besides… hold on, I’ll be right back.” She made her way down the hallway. Jeremy didn’t follow, instead deciding to examine the crib. This was where he grew up. It was a simple crib, obviously well-used. Not worn-down, mind, just… used. It had a history. A history that Jeremy wanted to decode, but unlike his dad’s ciphers, he didn’t have the key. 

“Took me a second to find it,” Sara Jane said. She handed him what appeared to be a scrapbook. “Raphael- he wrote when he can. Taught me some basic codes, would send out letters whenever you’d leave a town. Never left a return address, but…” Jeremy flipped through the pages, moving to sit on the small bed. The letters were all coded but appeared to be about how much Raphael missed Sara Jane. Updates on Jeremy’s growth. Letters from a father to his lover and son’s mother. 

One page jumped out to him, though. “I remember this,” he said, running his fingers against the paper. It was a simple drawing of a young boy, holding a catcher’s mitt, and a taller man next to him. “I drew this after Dad took me to my first baseball game, for my eighth birthday. I thought I lost the drawing after we skipped town, but- he sent them to you?”

Sara Jane nodded. “And I kept them all. Oh, honey, the day I first heard your voice on the phone- Mikey can tell you, I damn near fell over. You sounded so happy, and even if I couldn’t see you, that’s all a mother wants.” Jeremy leaned against her and she shut the book. “That’s all a mother wants, sweetie. To see her kids be safe and happy.” 

“I am, Ma,” he assured her. “I promise.” 

They sat like that for a while, with Sara Jane commenting on various letters and drawings in the scrapbook. Apparently, Raphael sent her money when he could- more frequently now that Mann Co. paid so well. She also had a rough idea of their current occupations. “I figure, if you and your father are working for the same company- with his skills, there’s gotta be a whole lot of nonsense going on out in that desert.” Jeremy laughed at that because she wasn’t wrong. “But I also figure since he raised you right, he’ll keep the both of you safe.” 

“I keep him safe too, don’t worry,” Jeremy added. “Uh- listen, it’s touching and all you kept the crib, but I don’t have to sleep in it, right?” 

They both had a good chuckle over that. Their laughs were in perfect harmony. 

. . .

The next two days were a mix of learning the family history and exploring Boston. It was the offseason, so there weren’t any games going on at Fenway, but Jeremy still got a picture in front of the park. Sara Jane took the pair to a restaurant that served “the best damn clam chowder in the contiguous United States.” Which, incidentally, led them to discover Jeremy was allergic to clams. Thankfully they didn’t have to go to the hospital- he just sort of immediately got sick before it passed- but it did suck.

It was damn good chowder, though. 

They went down to the harbor where the Boston Tea Party happened. It was crowded with people, resulting in them not staying long. Jeremy was a bit better with crowds than Raphael, but neither was great with them. Came with the job. Getting overpriced memorabilia from a nearby gift shop, though, went over much more smoothly. 

When not out on the town, Sara Jane dug out more scrapbooks and photo albums, catching Raphael up on what his stepsons had been up to. She showed Jeremy pictures from Ricky’s first school play to Scott opening up his butcher shop. Graduation pictures, wedding pictures, baby pictures- it was all there, and Jeremy devoured it. He wanted to know these people. He wanted to know his family. And he did. He learned about Michael’s stint in the Navy, Melvin meeting his wife, how Bobby’s son could dribble a basketball for twenty minutes straight. He learned about how his parents met. How Raphael loved each of Sara Jane’s children, even if they weren’t biologically his. How Jeremy wasn’t planned- few of the kids were - but they were both so, so happy to realize he was coming. 

He also learned that, while diner food would remain the undisputed king, homemade meatloaf came pretty close. 

. . .

The only problem came when it was time to leave. It wasn’t that Jeremy didn’t want to return to work, or leave his Ma behind. Sara Jane wasn’t even torn up over losing her son and lover again. It just felt like there was so much left to say, to do. There was uncertainty as to when they’d be able to return. “We get time off for Smissmas, I know that’s months away but I’ll be here, I promise,” Jeremy swore, hugging Sara Jane for the eighth time. 

“You better,” she said, squeezing him tightly. “You have 25 years worth of gifts to catch up on, not to mention birthday gifts-”

“Ma, you don’t have to go that far,” he whined. He was touched, sure, but the thought of that much luggage was truly frightening. Oh God, he was going to have to get gifts for everybody, wasn’t he? What do kids even want for Smissmas? 

“Hush, let me spoil my baby,” Sara Jane told him, kissing his cheek. “Oh, Jeremy…” 

Jeremy nodded. “I know, but I’ll call. I’ll write, too. Send pictures if I can.” 

“I’ll make sure he does,” Raphael assured her. Sara Jane stood to kiss his lips, with Jeremy looking away pointedly. “You have my word, ma petite chou-fleur.” 

“Alright, alright- now get going, I don’t want you two missing your flight. That boss of yours sounds like she’ll tear you both a new one if you’re late,” Sara Jane said, shooing them away. “Love you boys!” 

“I love you too, Ma!” Jeremy shouted back, for the very first time. 

The drive back to the airport was quiet. Jeremy stared out the window, watching his hometown- he had a hometown- pass by. “Hey, dad?” he asked, still looking outside. Raphael grunted to acknowledge he was listening. “One of these days, our contracts with Mann Co. are gonna expire. We’re gonna have to find new jobs.” 

“Yes, that’s correct,” Raphael said. He tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel. 

“And-and I was thinking when that time comes… maybe we could come back to Boston. Find some gigs out here,” Jeremy suggested. 

Raphael sighed. “Unfortunately, being a spy means that you don’t have the option of retiring, Jeremy. Not until you’re unable to complete your job. At that point, though, you’ve probably died a dozen times over,” he explained. “Even if I could retire, settling down somewhere so close to people I care about- I would still have enemies.” 

“Right. ‘Course,” Jeremy said. “It’s OK.” 

“That being said,” Raphael continued, “you have the luxury of youth and not being tied down to such a career. If you want to find a job in Boston after we finish with RED, there’s nothing stopping you.” 

“But people will still be after me, since I’m your son. And you wouldn’t be around.”

“Every child leaves their parents someday. And you’re strong, Jeremy. You can protect yourself and your family.” Raphael smiled. “I don’t believe Sara Jane needs much protecting, but I do worry.” 

Jeremy laughed. “I mean, did ya see the muscles on Scott and Michael? Guys can probably bench press a tractor!” 

They both chuckled before settling into quietude. Eventually, though, Jeremy had to break the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, mon lapin.”

“...so your nickname for Ma is fucking ‘little cauliflower?’ What the hell, Dad?” 

[nat-20s]

Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad. 

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show  applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of  a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon:  No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true.  Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look. 

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

[rein4r1]

Portrait

Wc: 1.9k

Warning/s: Homophobia, Signs of Mental Illness, Mentions of Mental and Physical Abuse, Mentions of sexual activity, Dark Content

Pairing: [Modern AU] Mikasa x F!Reader (They/Them)

Genre: Fluff if you squint, Angst

Synopsis: On which Mikasa offers them a solution to their problems

or

They couldn't help but create a different reality

MINORS READ WITH DISCRETION

“So tell us Y/n L/n”

“Tell you what? I have nothing to tell you!”

“Tell us why you killed your parents.”

They pulled her knees to their chests, tightening their hold. The air from the AC doing nothing but worsen the already dreadful atmosphere. With shaking hands, they touched the side of their face, feeling the sting from where their father slapped them from hours ago. It wasn’t his aggressiveness that hurt them nor was it the shattered frame of a portrait that stood proudly on top of the island table, but it was their mother’s words; “I can’t believe we have a homosexual under our roof!”

Their parents were always conservative, believing that people who like the same sex are nothing but sinful. In all honesty, they believed every word they fed growing up. At least until they met her. Maybe deep down, they were already different from what their parents fear, just hiding in the closet. The first time they saw her was in the middle of the hallway, junior year in high school. To be honest, they didn’t have friends, them having friends is far-fetched anyway.

Not only did they hate their situation at home, but they also hate their situation at school. It’s not like they’re physically troubled by other kids, but they can always hear their murmurings, clearly them being the subject of their gossip.

“For someone with a pretty appearance, they sure are crazy.”

“Shut up! They might hear.”

School was already hell for them; just in the middle of the hallway stood a girl with short black hair, there she stood in the sea of despondence. They always had a downcast look, when was the last time they stared at anything but their feet. They can’t help but be drawn to her dark orbs, something about her enigmatic look draws them to her. The felt their body move automatically towards her, but in the heap of the crowd, she was gone. Their eyes searched any nook and cranny for her, hoping that there’s something she left by. And they felt it, the erratic beating of their hearts, as if nothing will help to calm it.

The next time they saw her was at the school’s courtyard, sitting at one of the benches looking like she’s lost in her own thoughts. They slowly approached her, sitting just at the other end of the bench. As if sensing their presence, her head turns towards them. Her face shows aloofness, but their eyes bore in theirs with curiosity. She turned her head back to the horizon, clearly not minding their presence.

“You look sad.” ‘What?’

“You look like… you’ve been failed by the people around you…” she continues as they look at her with sadness in their eyes.

“Wha- What are you talking about?...” And out of the blue, she pulled them towards her, letting their head rest on her shoulder. She brought her hand to caress their hair, and all they could do is cry. It’s been so long since they became vulnerable, looking no different than a walking corpse. “Don’t worry Y/n, I’m here now.” ‘Huh but how does she know my name?’

“Wait how did you-“

“I’ve always been watching you Y/n, I’m sorry it took me a long time.” They look at her face and saw genuine repentance. “But I haven’t- I don’t know who you are.” As if sensing their growing confusion, she smiled; “Mikasa, my name’s Mikasa.”

Mikasa is their first friend and the first person they talked outside of their family. They didn’t feel alone anymore with the girl beside them. The once suffocating halls didn’t feel smothering anymore. Their eyes didn’t look downcast, it slowly began to look less dull and look more with vigor. But that didn’t do anything to lessen the outlandish look their schoolmates gave them, their mumblings only continue to worsen. It didn’t matter anymore, since Mikasa is by their side, and she didn’t feel alone anymore.

Mikasa slept over at their house, this was something they’ve been looking forward the whole weekends. Lying together in their bed as they faced each other, Mikasa brought her nimble finger to draw in their features as she reached stay strand of their hair and placed it behind their eye. As if there was an unknown force that compels them to each other, they felt her lips brush against theirs in a gently manner. Feeling the way their lips moved in sync with each other, Mikasa’s kisses were steady, gentle, and slow

She looks at them as if she revers them with her whole entirety. They felt her hands drag across their skin like an adagio. Mikasa looked at their eyes for any signs of discomfort, but they only brought themselves closer as an answer. And that night, they made love under the light emanating from the moon.

A few days later, Y/n sat at the dining area with their parents for dinner. Their mother was babbling about how charming their neighbor’s son is. It fell into deaf ears of course, only having Mikasa in their thoughts.

“Y/n you should meet Mr. Grice’s son, I heard he’s about your age.” They snapped their head towards their father, they could not believe the words that came out of his mouth. Never in her life did he appreciate them having any malefriends. “You ought to have friends at your age, create a network with people.”

“I already have a friend ‘pa” he could only dismiss their reply. Their mother clearly being insistent on bringing the Grice boy and them together. “I know both of you are taking your exams for university, it doesn’t hurt having room for more people in your life.”

“I thought you never wanted me to have any guy friends.”

“But it’s the Grices we’re talking about.” They came to understand their mother’s intentions. The Grice family were considered wealthy and influential, who doesn’t want to marry into a rich family anyway? Obviously, Y/n L/n who only has Mikasa in their heart. Plus, the Grice boy already had an army of girls (and boys) willing to be his significant other. It was supposed to be a normal dinner, with them minding their business, leaving their parents to whatever chit chat they’re engrossed in. That is until, their father said something that triggered more on her already displeased mood.

“God, those sinners, parading around for some rights when they clearly don’t deserve any.” Her father muttered in disgust. The television was on, displaying news about a protest done by the LGBTQ+ community in accordance with the rights of their transgender brothers and sisters, considering that there is a rise of crimes towards the group. “If only they weren’t that then people wouldn’t-“

“I’m gay.” Their parents snapped their heads towards her, their expressions full of vexation.

“Y/n come again? What did you-“

“I’m fucking gay ‘ma, and I appreciate that the both of you stop asking those people for liability for something they clearly didn’t do, especially that they- we, are discriminated by people like –“ SLAP

They looked at their horrific faces, hand on their cheek. They expected this, they knew they were like this, but they couldn’t stand them any longer. They couldn’t help but think of Mikasa, the fact that they have this kind of mindset already means that after learning Mikasa’s existence, they’ll get in between them.

“I can’t believe we have a homosexual under our roof!” Their mother cried and their father’s face full of furry. “Go inside your room! We’ll deal with you later. FuckI can’t look at you right now without having the urge to murder you! And I don’t want to commit a sin like you!” Their father’s voice echoes around the room, as they quickly left her unfinished dinner, seeking solace inside their room. Sitting at the innermost corner of their bed, they leaned against the wall and brought their knees towards their chest. They expected them to be like this, but deep down they were hoping that they’d understand, that they’d accept them for who they are.

They felt their phone ring as they moved towards the bedside table and saw a text from Mikasa.

They immediately dashed towards their mini balcony, and there she is, Mikasa in all her glory. Seeing her made them break down, they found solace with this woman. To them, Mikasa is their sanctuary. Mikasa held them tight under the dark sky and the cold wind of the early hours of morning. She listened to them as they bawl their eyes out, pressing kisses on their face in hopes that this will make them feel better.

“I have something for you.” Mikasa reached something in her pocket to reveal a necklace with a vial as its pendant. They looked at the necklace with an astonished look, Mikasa then proceeds to wear the necklace on their neck. “You know you can do this Y/n” Mikasa smiled at them as she pressed another kiss on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around them. “I know you can”

Their parents woke up at the delightful smell of breakfast. They were bemused at the food that is already prepared on the table.

“Oh, both of you are awake, I prepared breakfast.” Their father looked at them suspiciously, but she only smiled cheerfully.

“What is this? Didn’t we tell you to-“

“I would like to apologize for yesterday, I was clearly stressed because of my exams. I was probably just confused… Yeah just stressed” they chuckled, they felt a bit unsure of their words, but they only brushed it off, content that their child finally came into their senses. They took a sip of their tea, as they began to converse with their parents. “You know about Grice, maybe I’ll approach him later at school.”

“Really? That’s great Y/n!” Her mother chimes.

“Yes ‘ma” They continue to look at their parents. Minutes pass as something went eerie that they could not explain. ‘Something’s weird’ their father glanced at their grinning face. They suddenly lack the ability to speak. As they slowly grow limp from their chairs. They could only stare at their child’s retreating form as the light in their gets swallowed by darkness.

“Tell us why you killed your parents.” Are they out of their mind? Kill? Why would Y/n kill their parents? They may have hurt them too many times, but they could never hurt their parents.

“Kill? I did not kill them!”

“The autopsy showed signs of poisoning, and the investigating team found its connection with the tea they drank. In addition, you were the last person they were last seen with.” They were confused, the tea?... The tea!

“It wasn’t me… It was… It was Mikasa!” Their eyes widen in confusion. “She gave me a vial. It was her!” They wrote their claim down on a piece of paper.

“Mikasa?... I need her last name.” He probes. ‘Wait, she never did give me her last name.’ The officer slid a small envelope. The opened it to reveal a portrait that looks oh so familiar. It’s one of the portraits her father flounced in the heat of anger. A portrait of a young woman with a baby in her hands. ‘No this can’t be… this is just a coincidence. This woman-‘

“-is Mikasa Ackerman, the one who gave birth to your mother.”

That night, they never received a text from her. It was only their alarm setting off.

An: I feel like this is badly written so bsoibhaoibh

I apologize for any grammatical errors and improper use of punctuation marks.

[peeterparkr]

perfidy;tom holland|13

chapter 13: the love interest

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: to fall down an abyss. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings:  swearing, fluff, didn’t proof read, smut: (mile high club), unprotected, public sex (skip the * if you don’t want to read it. 

word count: 7.6k

here’s a playlist

and here’s another one

and here’s another one inspired by 1D

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : 

part one:Harry is suspicious, James regrets telling something to Tom, Y/N is smitten

part two:Haz and Sam get updated, Tom and Y/N are still figuring out how to flirt,

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Love is irrational. Stupid. You were stupid. Or at least you were trying to convince yourself you were. Love is such a complicated feeling. Because it feels like a song, a good one. One you can’t stop playing. But what happens when someone breaks your heart? The song fades away.  You don’t want to listen to it anymore. You can’t live in the past. 

Because when they speak of love, they speak of illusion. You could think of a bright sun and a blue sky, or a pink… and foggy dawn. Illusion breaks. 

Did you love him? Did you want to go again to that chaotic feeling? That constant sorrow of waiting for rain to come down while it’s a bright and sunny day. That feeling of everyone speaking and bustling through the crowd, but you’re silent. That feeling that when everything seems to explode… he finally shows up. 

Because love is… what even is love, after all? Forgiveness? 

Love is being stupid. 

Love is being irrational. 

Love is… butterflies. 

Butterflies. You hadn’t felt those in a while. But there you were, smiling like an idiot to the bright screen. Your stomach jolted as soon as he texted back. Like a teenager. 

Who were you kidding? You were a fool for him, but he… seemed to be in this, too. 

There was something different about all of this. Tom seemed different. Of course you still had to build up your walls but you had to admit that you were really falling for him. There was no way of denying it. And he seemed to like you, too. But did he? 

But of course, there was that particular thought in your head, reminding you of how it feels to get your heartbroken. Reminding you that Tom wouldn’t hesitate on breaking your heart. He hadn’t before. 

He’d proven that to you, several times.

How come were you so stupid? Charlie was right, Tom would most likely commit perfidy. That’s all he was. 

And honestly, what wrong were you doing by writing your story? Sure, it had begun like something to get revenge for, but right now it really was… just a portrayal of your feelings. And it wasn’t hurting anybody. You really weren’t hurting anybody, it was just taking inspiration from real life. A script of an 80’s rock n’ roll love. Of a guy who was supposed to hate someone but ended up falling in love with her.

But was he in love? He couldn’t be. 

Because he’d said it again, and again. You were not his type and he’d rather eat a frog than kiss you. 

Yet you’ve kissed, and his lips were so damn addictive, because they asked for more and more, and they were soft but steady. All you could think about were his eyes, the way he would gently stare at you. 

The way he watched you, god, the way his eyes brightened up and made you feel like there was a single spotlight on you.The way that his smile told you that no matter the rain, he’d make you feel like the sun will come out anyway. The way that he’d turn to listen to you in the crowded room even if you were silent. The way that even with the chaos, he’d be there. 

But he was most likely only charmed with lust. He wouldn’t be able to love you. He never had. 

But…could he?

Love is being a fool, but not caring about being one. But you did care about it, you didn’t want to be a fool. 

That damn thought had you thinking for a few nights. And you’d walk right in front of that bright screen waiting to understand where you wanted to go with this. Re-reading the first dialogues, so full of rage and pettiness. Anger. 

You had your reasons. And though he seemed different…You still feared him. And right now, he had more weapons to hold up against you. He had your heart on his hand and he could crush it. But you wouldn’t let him, and he was well aware of it, you knew. Because even if you were giving in to his touch and his flirting, you never really… gave in. You were cold and you were frigid.

Could you ever open your heart again? Could you ever give in to him? 

But you had. Who were you trying to fool? You’d given him everything you could think of. Why did he even want a relationship? And did he really want it? 

It could be another prank, another complicated way to tumble you down to your knees. Another way to mess up with your heart until he squeezed out every single tear from you. 

You thought of the yellow flowers you’d burned. You hadn’t kept them, but you should’ve as a reminder of it. And your mind, god your mind couldn’t shut up. But your heart was being louder. Your heart was yelling at you, asking you to let yourself love him. You were smarter. 

Because Tom Holland had taught you one thing, to doubt yourself. 

Although, the questions had changed. Now they were wondering why you out of everyone? Was it your hair? Was it your makeup? Your perfume? 

Was it his way to once again fool you? 

A day before the flight, you opened up two boxes. Timmy’s and Tom’s. 

And when you opened Timmy’s… it felt like an old song. It smelled of lavender. You’d once sprayed it with perfume. 

There are people who are tailor-made for each other. You know the ones. You see them act so perfectly, so coordinated. They finish each other's sentences and they, without noticing, end up with coordinated outfits. That’s the story that the box with Timmy told, someone who you should be in love with. 

Someone who was practically crafted for you. Timmy was in all ways the person you were expected to fall in love with. The perfect guy.

You stared at the canister, a friendly reminder that Timmy probably should’ve been and would be your endgame. 

You opened up the canister, and then slid down the bright ring that you’d kept for months now. How long had it been? 6 months now? You couldn’t remember. 

“Keep it, wear it if you want to. But don’t give it back, it’s yours.” Those words had stayed long enough in the air for you to still be able to hear them. 

You placed it on your finger. You hadn’t worn it. Not really. Because it didn’t feel like it belonged to you. Even now that you were staring at it, and though it adorned your hand beautifully… it didn’t feel right.

Was it your own fear? You’d talked about it once with Harry, how you didn’t believe in the one.

Only two people in this world knew about this ring. Well, four if you counted you and Tim. 

Harry and James. Because the first person you’d reached was Harry. 

“If you don’t think he’s the one,”Harry said. 

“There’s no such thing as the one,” you’d said. 

“Well, if you don’t want to marry him then it’s okay if you said no,” Harry said.

“There’s a part of me that thinks I should’ve said yes,” you admitted. “Everyone thinks so.” 

“But you’re not ready.” 

“I think he is perfect for me,” you explained. 

Harry watched you. “Then what’s the problem?” 

“Love is not about someone being perfect for each other, love is wanting to be with someone despite them not being perfect.” 

That’s love. Despite all, you are still the one who I want. 

Was Tom that? Your… “despite”? 

But you didn’t want to love him. Not yet. But then the box proved that to you. Even after everything, even after all the bad things, you were there. Because somehow you were stupid. Yes, that’s what love is. Being stupid. 

And being in love or not, you were already stupid. So you might as well give in. Slowly. And carefully. 

You’d packed the film canister, you had to give it back. And you knew that you couldn’t wait even more, you’d find time to give it back. You couldn’t sleep thinking there was a ring always waiting to be worn when it probably would never be. 

Tom had opened the door the very next morning, you’d meet at his place and you’d then head to the airport.  “Morning!” He welcomed you and then kissed your cheek. The stupid butterflies to make its way back in.

You only smiled at him, as he rushed you to the kitchen. He immediately let go of your hand as he saw Harrison with a bowl of cereal staring at you both with a smirk. 

You walked further apart from Tom. “Harrison hello, nice to see you,” you said with formality. 

Haz only smiled at you, too busy with his cereal. Tom pulled out a chair for you, and then approached you a cup. 

“So, okay there’s your tea and—“

“My  tea?” You questioned. 

Tom grinned. “Yeah… And I made you breakfast, I’ll be right back I need to finish-“

“Are you not done packing?”

He stuck his tongue out. “Nope.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Thomas oh my god.”

“Sorry,” he blushed. “but hey, Tess is here!” He then called the pup, as she rushed over to you. 

You were certainly happy by the news. “Hi baby,” you grinned as Tessa had jumped to your lap, you had forgotten about everything as you hugged the dog, but then you looked up. “How come you’re not done packing?”

He was too busy pettingTess, too. “Huh?” He looked up. “Oh, we...I was busy thinking—“

You scoffed. “ah takes you too much time huh?”

He nudged you. “Shut up,” he laughed, “do you have a checklist I could use? I know you’re a checklist and color coding freak.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not.” 

“Do you or do you not have a checklist?” He smirked. 

You didn’t answer. 

His smirk widened. 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, okay I do but—“

He snickered. “But?”

You blushed, he was right. “Let me—okay,” you sighed as you took out your phone, “just ignore everything that doesn’t apply to you and… sent.” 

“What wouldn’t—“his eyes scanned the list. “Oh!” His eyes widened. “Oh?” He stared at you. “Oh…” he smirked. 

“What?” You lifted your eyebrows, as you then proceeded to scan your list. It was normal until you saw that particular checkbox. The lingerie one, where you had placed a very nice question mark after it. 

“Tell me you checked that box,” he approached you. 

“Shut up,” you pushed him away. 

“Did you?” He grinned as he lifted your chin. 

“No,” you rolled your eyes. “That's an old checklist,” you lied coldy. “Let me help you out with packing.” 

“No, you’re going to stay here with Tess,” he winked. 

“Tom—“ but then Tessa had gained your attention back. “Hi baby, you’re the only Holland who matters.” 

Tom watched you with pride. “Rude...Stay here, it won’t take long and—,” he watched you. “okay, I’ll be quick, Sam is up there he’ll help me out and—“ you didn’t let him finish as you’d already planted a kiss on his cheek. “Okay, I can… okay, that… okay, yeah,” he kissed your forehead before heading up to his room. 

You grinned watching him go. But you had forgotten something, Harrison was still there and he made you acknowledge his presence by clearing his throat. 

Fuck, you thought. Or said? Maybe you’d said it out loud.

“That’s not… what it looks like, I Uh—“ you blushed and tried to come up with excuses. Any excuse could work. 

Haz smirked and then let out a loud laugh. “It wasn’t you kissing his cheek and then him kissing your forehead?”

“No, no… it’s not that.” But it was. 

He smirked. “what exactly was it y/n?”

You cleared your throat, and played dumb. “what was what? I’m … Tess?” You turned your attention back to the dog. 

Haz cackled. “Tess?”

“What were you saying?” You looked up. 

Haz grinned. “ y/n, I know.” 

“what?” You looked up with fear. 

“I know you guys have… something going on,” Harrison laughed. “You guys weren’t subtle, and I know he asked you out.” 

You cleared your throat. “you see that’s where you’re kind of wrong because we don’t have something going on—he barely just asked me out and at this point I don’t think he meant it because there’s no date plan yet—“ you looked away. Another thing that bothered you, he’d asked you out and there was no date in sight.

Haz frowned. “wait, did he not tell you.” 

“what?”

“What your date will be?”

You scowled. “No.” 

Haz scoffed. “He’s very dumb.” 

You grinned. “We can agree on that, but what is it?” You bit your lip. 

“Nothing.” Haz watched you. “He really likes you, you know,” he commented..

You laughed. “He does?”

“Very much.”

“I…” you frowned, staring into Tessa's eyes. “No.” 

Haz snorted. “No?”

You but your lip. “I’m sorry, I have a hard time believing it.” 

The blonde guy watched you. “He’s been that big of an asshole to you, right?” 

He had been, but despite all of that. There was your body butterflying over a stupid kiss on the forehead. “yeah, so… I have to be careful or… otherwise he’ll break my heart again and… we don’t want that, do we Tess?” You asked the puppy, who only licked your cheek. 

“I don’t know what happened before but right now, he’s head over heels for you,” Harrison admitted. 

You watched him skeptically. “we’ll see.” 

“seriously,” Haz stated. “he won’t shut up.” 

You chuckled. “But he never does, about anything,” you pointed out and Haz nodded in agreement. “who else… knows about this?”

Haz cleared his throat. “no, uh only me.” 

Sam had walked into the kitchen. “Only you what? Oh, hi my lovely y/n,” he grinned at you with complicity. 

“Sam, hi.” 

Sam seemed suspicious too. “You know what I’ve been thinking y/n,” he watched you. “Have you lost your sanity, yet? Spending that much time with Tom?” 

You laughed. “I lost it, yes,” you admitted. 

Sam chuckled. “And will you be able to spend 8 hours on a plane with him?” 

You hadn’t thought about it. You had been too busy thinking and deciding your feelings for that idiot that you forgot you were about to spend 7–almost 8 very risky hours with said idiot. Which could either go very wrong or… no, this could only go wrong. You’d either fight or you wouldn’t. And the second one was worse, because you already were on the edge of the abyss, one little push and you’d fall for him. 

It would only take one more kiss to actually make you lose your sanity. 

The heart wants what it wants.

“Okay so I was going to buy you flowers,” Tom said as you’d arrived at the airport. Both of you taking out your bags. Security had met you there.

“Flowers?” You questioned. 

“Yes but I realized you wouldn’t be able to keep them because of airport rules or whatever,” he said 

You frowned watching him. “Why would you buy me flowers?” 

He paused and then smiled at you.  “Because it’s our date, silly.” 

“Our—what?” 

Tom grinned. “Our date, dumbass.” 

You didn’t say anything. 

And you barely had said anything. Some fans had recognized Tom and he’d taken some pictures with him. The whole world was so in love with him, you knew that. You were nothing special for being one more. 

There has always been something magical about airports for you. There were a lot of stories to be told and different personalities that could be seen at the airport. You’d always found it so interesting, a chance to leave or a chance to come back home. Airports were always a mystery to you, you never knew why people were traveling. Could be holidays,  a breakup, business. People trying to find themselves, people who’ve lost themselves. 

“I figured it out,” Tom said the moment you’d both sat at the lounge. Him with a beer, you with a glass of champagne. 

“Figured what out?” 

“That it should be here, our first date,” he grinned. 

You chuckled. “Forcing me to spend 8 hours with you without a possibility of running away?” You mocked. “Clever.” 

“Yeah, that mainly,” he admitted with a laugh. “But—also, because you’ve always been a fan of airports and planes.” 

You took a sip. “I am.” 

“The stories you said?” He asked. 

You shrugged. “The possibility of going elsewhere, everyone here is for a different reason,” you explained. “Airports are full of stories waiting to be told.” 

He grinned.  “And What will ours be?” 

“Time will tell,” you smirked. 

“I know you y/n, this is… the perfect first date,” he grinned. 

You chuckled. “Is it?” You watched him. “Haven’t been in one for a while, what are you supposed to do on a first date?” 

His fingers hovered over your hand. “Supposed to be making good impressions.”

“Hm, but we already have impressions of each other,” you sassed, lifting your own fingers to brush his. “And not really the best ones.” 

He raised his brows. “Well.” 

“Besides, I don’t want anything that a first date is supposed to be ,” you chuckled. “We can't have a normal first date.” 

“We can’t?” 

“We know each other’s worst side,” you explained.

“But we don’t know the best.” He smirked. 

You laughed. “This is stupid, Tom,” you blushed looking away. 

“Why?” He frowned. “I think we’ve always wanted this.” 

You looked into his eyes. “Well.” 

“I’ve always wanted this,” he finally rested his hand on yours, intertwining his fingers. 

“That’s so cliche, Tommy.” 

“Well didn’t you?” He grinned. 

You coughed. “I thought we hated each other.” 

“And I think we were always keeping up an act,” he shrugged. “Ever since we were kids”

“Ew  no I really thought you were a very annoying kid,” you admitted. “And dumb” 

“But think about it, think about all the moments we’ve had,” he pushed. 

You had been thinking about them lately. “What about them?” 

“We’ve been alone, seems like every time that someone is around we transform but when we see nobody’s around we can be like this,” he brought your hand to his lips. 

You cleared your throat nervously. 

“Did you blush, idiot ?” He teased. 

“It’s the champagne, dumbass,” you took your hand back. 

He laughed, as he pulled the chair closer. “Is it?” 

“You told Harrison,” you tried to change the subject. 

He sipped of his beer. “He figured it out—The horn.” 

You laughed. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” 

“But nobody else knows right?” You questioned.

“You told James!” He frowned. 

“He told you?” You coughed. “I—didn’t tell him. He figured it out.” 

“We’ve been bad at keeping this a secret, huh?” He grinned.

“But nobody else can know, can you imagine what their reactions would be?” You chuckled.

Tom reached back for your hand. “We don’t have to tell them.” 

“I  guess.”

“Not until we figure it out,” he said as he then shifted his chair to be closer. 

You stared at both his eyes, with a grin. “You won’t freak out then?”

“Freak out?” He leaned over.

“Dunno, every time we’ve been close to catching feelings you pull a stunt,” you brushed his lips with your hand.

“Have I backed away this time?” He questioned, pressing his lips against your finger. 

“Hm. guess not, and maybe that’s what scares me,” you pulled back your hand.

“You’re scared?” He took your Chin in his hand. 

You bit  your lip. “A bit, yeah, but I like you too much to care.” 

A smirk appeared on his face. “You like me?”

You closed your eyes and then tried to stand up but he pulled you back to him, over to sit on his lap. 

“You like me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. You tried getting out of his grip but he only pulled you closer. 

“No,” you covered his face with your hand, he licked your hand. “Thomas!” 

He laughed.  “You can’t back up now.” 

“I can,” you said smearing his own saliva on his face. 

“Y/N!” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Disgusting.” 

“Your tongue was on my hand,” you complained. 

“It’s been on other parts of your body and you didn’t mind back then,” he sassed with a smug smirk on his face. 

You blushed and nudged him. “Dickhead.” 

“Am I wrong?” He teased again, laughing. 

You smirked, pushing his face away. 

“Am I?” 

You stood up, walking away. 

“Y/N, no! come back,” he sighed. “I was joking.” 

“Getting snacks—“

“I’m the snack here,” he laughed, watching you. 

You walked back to him and pecked his lips, now it was his time to blush. “Real airport snacks, idiot,” you claimed. 

You didn’t know how you both ended up on the floor, your head on his lap as you were tossing m&m’s to his mouth, his hand caressing your hair. You both came up with a game, trying to figure out what everyone else was doing at that airport. 

“Probably a businessman,” you said staring at the man. “He’ll go to Wall Street.” 

“Really?” Tom watched him. “ah, yeah, gives the vibe,” Tom chuckled. “Y/N this game is boring.” 

“You’re boring,” you sat up, barely an inch away from his face. “Well, what else could we do?” 

He didn’t answer as he only looked down at your lips. 

“Idiot.” 

He grinned. “I didn’t say anything!” He laughed, as he pulled you close to him. “We could explore the airport but you are scared of losing the flight,” he laughed. 

“I know you, and you tend to dick around long enough to forget everything,” you pointed out. 

He laughed. “Well what do you suggest?” 

You looked down at his lips. 

“I thought that idea didn’t appeal to you,” he laughed. 

“No it doesn’t,” you admitted, cupping his face and placing a kiss on the edge of his lips. “Or does it?”

He grinned, pulling you in to mound his lips with yours. You’d missed the taste of his lips, and the way he danced them with yours. Bittersweet. 

“Harry was always the worst at pranks,”Tom had pointed out after a while. “Sam was okay.” 

“No, but we were the ones who actually won every time,” you agreed. “But I was crowned the queen of pranks.” 

“You were not.” 

“Do you remember that one time with the cups of water?” You reminded him. 

The first prank wars, early teenage years. You’d filled up his room with cups of water while he was sleeping, the entire room was filled up and he couldn’t get off his bed. Of course he had dropped a few, and his whole room had been flooded. 

He laughed. “But mum got so angry at you.” 

“I still won,” you chuckled. 

“You had to help me clean my room up, and your mum grounded you,” he recalled. “you call that winning?” 

“Yes.” 

“That’s not winning!” He frowned. “If anything I won with the toilet paper one.” 

“So original,” you rolled your eyes. 

“You know when we teamed up against Sam and Harry? Those were the pranks,” Tom laughed. 

“The Oreos one,” you laughed, remembering when Tom and you had taken hours of your day to fill Oreos with toothpaste. 

“Dude when we changed the entire bed with that pool,” he laughed. 

You shook your head. “No that was you and Sam against me and Harry, and that was my bed,” you scowled. 

You hadn’t stopped laughing, remembering anecdotes. Mostly fun. Some not as fun. 

“You realize I did everything I did because I wanted attention?”

You frowned. “You always had everyone’s attention. Correction, you always have everyone’s attention.” 

“But I wanted yours,” he chuckled. “You were never impressed, no, you are never impressed by me.” 

You smiled, knowing that was such a big lie. Did he really think that? 

“You always seem to forget,” you looked at him. “I loved you before the whole world did.” 

He hadn’t expected that. “No, you hated me.” 

“Hate isn’t the absence of love, not in our case,” you reminded him. 

And eventually, you were about to board the plane. 

“Weren’t you scared of planes?” He recalled watching you. 

“No,” you rolled your eyes. But you were shaking. You always were nervous around them, even if you loved them. You couldn’t help but get slightly scared. Maybe that’s all it had been for the past week, maybe it wasn’t the fact that you feared falling in love. 

“Oh my god, you were!” Tom smirked. “Yes, you were.” 

“Can you shut up?” You frowned. 

“Nope,” he laughed. “Oh wait, I’m supposed to be nice now,” he cleared his throat. 

“What?” 

Tom took your hand. “Hey, hey, I’ll be here.” 

“That makes it worse,” you said but squeezed his hand anyway. 

Boarding the plane, he stopped you mid-tunnel. “Y/N, it’s okay.” 

You chuckled. “Just like two minutes ago you were making fun of me, dickhead,” you answered pushing him away.

“But, hey, it’s okay,” he placed his hands on your waist, and then pulled you close to connect your lips against his, for a brief but sweet moment. “It’ll be fine, silly.” 

You only smiled against his lips. 

You noticed how both of you toned down any affection towards each other with the silly nicknames, dumbass, idiot, silly, dickhead. As if that cancelled out the strong feelings. 

You were really on the abyss. 

You found your seats, first class of course. and somehow it made you feel… weird. Spending 7 hours—almost 8 with him. Sam did have a point. And this was a date. How the hell were you going to have a date on this? 8 hours. 

“Okay so I brought this thing again,” Tom mentioned as he pulled out the camera once you were settled. 

“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes. “Why did you even buy it?” 

“You inspired me,” he grinned as he brought it up to his face. You covered the lens. “Y/N,” he pouted. 

“You’re taking away the magic of it.” You chuckled. 

“What?” 

“Ugh, take pictures of more interesting moments.” 

“You Can do whatever you want with your camera,” he frowned. “But I want pictures of you.” 

“Why?” You laughed as you covered your face.

“Because you’re pretty, idiot.” 

“I thought I wasn’t your type,” you pointed out. 

He snickered. “You’re not.” 

Suddenly you frowned and looked at him, he smirked as he then started to get comfortable in his seat, looking through the movies, ignoring your sight. With confusion, you kept watching him as he let out a loud laugh. 

“What?” He grinned. 

“Then why the hell are you trying to date me?” You complained. 

“Oh,” he smirked. “Did you expect me to tell you… you’re my type?” 

You frowned. “Well, no… because I’m not.” 

He grinned. “ I’m not yours either  and yet…” he grinned leaning over to kiss you, you stopped him before his lips could touch yours. 

“How do you know you’re not my type?” You questioned, someone from the flight crew walked over to offer you both a glass of champagne, which Tom gladly accepted and then gave you one. 

“Thomas?” You frowned as he gave you one, too. “Tom?”

“I know you enough, y/n, Timmy was your type,” he said with poison. 

You cleared your throat. 

He chuckled. “See? Timmy was your type,” he continued and you ignored him. “Please, every single guy you’ve dated is Timmy but in different fonts.” 

You let out a chuckle. “-okay but .”

“He was, wasn’t he?” He poked your side. “Please I’ve seen all the guys you’ve paraded around with, all have the same aesthetic and do some artsy shit, the painter, the singer, the photographer.” 

You smirked. “Well, you’re an actor.” 

“But I’m not... aesthetically inclined like them,” he chuckled. 

You watched him. “So you’re convinced you’re not my type.” 

“I know I’m not,” he grinned. 

“Well but you’re... you,” you said, expecting some nice response. 

He smirked with pride. “Yeah, I know, I’m gorgeous.” 

You punched his arm. 

“Oi!” He laughed. “I am.” 

“I was trying to be cute, you dumbass,  and you ruined it,” you complained. 

He rolled his eyes with a grin. “I called you pretty first,” he pointed out. “But okay, fine,” he cupped your face and then planted a long kiss to your lips. “Happy?” He asked, leaving you dumbfounded. 

“No.” 

He faked anger but then grinned as he lifted the armrest to pull you close to him. “You’re such an idiot.” 

“And you’re so stupid,” you grinned as you nuzzled against him. Of course, a flight attendant asked you both to use the seatbelts and all that crap. 

But you were too busy cuddling against him, forgetting you were terrified of planes as his hand was playing with your hair as you were trying to decide the movie you’d be watching. Tom had put up the privacy window and he was still stealing from the snacks you’d bought. 

“We are not watching Far From Home, fartface, ” you complained just after you’d taken off. 

“Why not?” He grinned. 

“I already have your dumb face here I don’t need to see it twice, oh my god, Back to the Future,” you grinned. “Yes!” 

Tom kissed the top of your head. “No,” he answered calmly. 

You sat up. “Why not?” 

“Because I know you have a crush on Marty McFly,” he pointed out, “and I want all of your attention on me, darling.”

You blushed, “you do realize why I had a crush on him, right?” 

Tom scrunched his face. “No, and I don’t wanna know, attention on me, darling.” 

“Prick.” 

You pursed your lips and held back a giggle. You’d always had a crush on Marty McFly because he reminded you of Tom. 

He frowned. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you looked away. “Oh, look backyardigans!” 

“We are not watching that,” Tom rolled his eyes. 

“Why not? You look like Pablo.” 

Tom let out a nervous chuckle. “Is it going to be 7 hours of this?” 

“Did you actually plan out this date?” You asked him. 

He chuckled, “no, but that’s the magic of it, and see? You’ll get to see the sky and you love that kind of shit, and we get to cuddle and there’s fancy food… and who else has had their first date on a plane?” 

You grinned. “You want to cuddle me?” 

“I want to kiss all your stupid face,” he admitted, as his fingers lifted your chin to watch him.

“Hm, I brought my laptop,” you mentioned, looking away. 

“What, you’ve got porn in there?” He asked. 

You flicked his nose. “Dumbass, no, I’ve got… tapes, not that kind of tapes, from when we were kids.” 

He grinned. “Like the actual vids?” 

You pulled out your laptop and scrolled through the files. He only nuzzled against your head. 

“Wait, is that your 18th birthday?” He asked. 

“Maybe.” 

“I recorded those,” he pointed out. “You were wasted!” 

“We are not watching those,” you rolled your eyes. 

He chuckled. “C’mon,” he clicked on one. “Was I Spider-?” 

“Yeah, I think you were here for a few days in London, and then you’d gone to film again, Homecoming I think.” 

“Hello everyone, we’re at y/n’s 18th birthday party, she’s… “ 

“Hi!” You had appeared on camera. 

“How are you feeling y/n?” 

You only giggled.

 “Y/N?” 

You only stared at him. “I think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“Okay, that’s it,” you closed the video. 

He laughed. “You flirted with me that whole day.” 

“I was drunk and stupid.” 

“Are you drunk right now?” He smirked. 

“No, but I’m still stupid,” you laughed. “Hey, no, I have this one.” 

His wisdom teeth had just been taken out, and of course, you’d be one of the first ones to show up. 

“Tom, how are you feeling?” 

“Y/N, you look pretty,” he mumbled. 

“And that, folks, is how we know he’s on drugs.” 

Tom laughed watching himself saying nonsense gibberish. “I feel like you have enough videos to blackmail me.” 

“Oh, I do,” you confessed. “And pictures.” 

And you continued watching videos, some were nice, of memories that had you laughing and some others made you both debate on what exactly had happened. But you both were laughing, and genuinely enjoying it. His hands wouldn’t leave your body, he’d squeeze you every now and then and he’d leave small kisses all around your face. He’d apologize sometimes whenever a video show how big of a jerk he was. 

This was going to be a long trip. 

But it didn’t feel like it. At one point you were barely even talking, just staring out the small window. It was… romantic. Sharing your music. 

“Okay, even if you didn’t plan anything this has been nice,” you admitted. 

He chuckled. “I’m sorry if I didn’t plan anything.” 

You grinned looking at him. “No, really I mean it, this has been… Perfect.” And it had been, and though you didn’t want to admit it. That’s all you really needed. 

“So, what’s your impression of me, so far?” 

You walked your fingers across his chest as he watched you carefully. 

“Mmh,” you looked into his eyes. “Pure of heart, dumb of ass.” 

He laughed. “Sounds good.” 

“Yours?” 

“Idiot with a pretty face,” he answered. “And I want to kiss that dumb face, honestly.” 

And that was what he did, kiss your dumb face. And his lips were probably lying, but you didn’t care, because they tasted so good, and they asked for more, and more. Lips so tasty, so soft and silky, and you hummed against him. His thumbs tracing down your hips and sliding them under your t-shirt. 

You pulled back, but his lips landed behind your ear. God, you were getting turned on only by the bristle of his lips, you hated this. How the hell were you so smitten with the guy who had been a nightmare to you his whole life? 

But you shifted to sit on top of his lap, and you could only listen to him catching his breath in between kisses, as your hands were cupping his face and running through his hair. 

But you couldn’t help thinking about how even if the privacy window was closed, anyone could see you. 

“Tom,” you whispered. 

“What?” 

“We can’t do this.” 

But his fingers were still toying with the hem of your shirt. He sighed, but then he smirked. 

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom?” He questioned.

You frowned. “Hm? Not really.” 

He laughed darkly. “Y/N.” 

You watched him with confusion. “What?” You gave it a thought. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” he nodded. 

You cleared your throat. 

“Only if you want to,” he said. 

You bit your lip, and then placed a long kiss, giving him the response he needed. 

“I’ll knock three times,” he whispered. 

You carefully made your way to the restroom, it was bigger than whatever airplane bathroom you’d been in. Of course the first class bathroom had its perks but this was… still exciting. You were excited and scared. The bathroom was big. 

You waited for him and then you heard the three knocks. 

You opened the door, and let him in before making sure nobody had seen you. 

“Are we really doing this?” You questioned as you locked the door, but his lips were already on yours as he pushed you against the wall. The place was reduced but it didn’t matter, he pushed his whole body against you as your hands dug into his hair. 

In your mind, there was slight guilt of doing this but that’s what made it exciting, turning you on even more. 

He squeezed your hips as his mouth travelled down to your neck, leaving small kisses on it. His hot breath fanning against you, you felt him snicker against it. 

“It’s okay if you don’t—“he said suddenly looking up but you shut him up, kissing him, slowly. Your tongue slowly sliding in as he moaned slightly. 

Your hands traced its way down his back, your cold fingers making him shiver as they landed down on his cheeks, pulling him even closer to you, as your pulsating body begged for more movement. 

But you felt nervous, for the first time, you felt nervous. Was it the fact that you were miles up in the air? Or the fact that you were both acknowledging you had feelings? Either way, you couldn’t help but smile between each kiss, as you tasted the remaining sweet chocolate from them. 

You didn’t know what your expectations from this particular experience were, a probably dirty even if it looked impeccable airplane bathroom wasn’t the most romantic thing that you could think of. But if you really squeezed your mind through it, you were about to do it in the sky… that could be romantic. 

But you couldn’t stop giggling between kisses, not when his digits were pressing against your waist. And he couldn’t either. 

“Y/N!” He complained holding back his laughs. “Stop—laughing.” 

You burst into more laughter as your head landed on his shoulder. “Fine, sorry… I’ll be sexy.” 

He scoffed with a cackle. “Don’t—say that,” he couldn’t help but laugh with you. 

You covered his mouth. “Sh, they cant find out I literally think this is a crime!” He licked your hand. “Tom! Not again.”

“What is a crime? Laughing?” He questioned. “Because that’s all we’ve done here, y/n.” 

*

You rolled your eyes and then pulled his head close so you were kissing him again. You bristled down your path with your own digits, sketching each and every muscle on his chest and stomach, he groaned against your lips. 

His own hands explored your body, the pad of his fingers lifting up your t-shirt to coldly rub circles on your belly. 

He cupped your breasts, and slowly massaged them. You moaned against him, but then he pulled them back to travel down your sides, gliding them softly. He then pulled back his wet lips from yours, making you open your eyes abruptly. He was staring at you, in a way that he’d never stared before. Making you forget you were in a first class bathroom. Undressing you with only his eyes as you could only see his eyelashes traveling up and down. And he smiled, in that way that was so him. 

You’d jumped down the abyss now, not fallen, you had purposely jumped down. And you wanted him to touch you, right there and right now, your skin burned at his sight. 

You smiled back, as your hands slid down his pants. You craned your neck back allowing him to suck slightly, ever since you’d first slept with him your neck had been covered with remaining tattoos of his lips. Your fingers brushed against his bulge as he pushed with desperation to grind himself against you. You felt him let out a soft giggle against you as his lips went back to yours, he bit on your bottom lip, as his hands went down to pull down your pants, his digits toying with your core. 

You gasped as soon as he had slid his fingers along your folds, you gripped the back of his t-shirt to gain back your composure, as you spread your thighs open for him. His hands left your core as they travelled to the back cupping your ass, lifting you up, you felt his growing shaft right under your pussy and the only friction was doing its sole job. 

With one hand on his shoulder and the other unbuckling him, you were only letting out deep breaths as his eyes wouldn’t leave yours, driven by lust… but it wasn’t lust, he was entranced by you. His movements were slow as he brought his hands back up to your face, delicate sparks as he pushed your hair back. You could feel your pussy pooling your pants but he wasn’t being rough, he only kept peppering kisses, as if he couldn’t get enough. And you couldn’t either, even when the kisses were getting sloppier and wetter, and at some point, it was only smiling against a smile. The only thing you were both saying between heavy breaths were each other’s names. 

You finally pulled down his pants and underpants to reveal his shaft, dripping already. 

“I didn’t—bring—“

“I’m on the pill,” you quickly snapped. “Need you in me, now,” you ordered as he gave in to your orders, he swiped his tip against your clit and then pushed you against the wall as he thrusted into you in one sole movement, you bit down a moan as you shifted against him, helping him find the spot where you needed him. 

He bit down his lip, as your hands grasped to his back. Between sloppy and messy kisses he started to pump into you at a steady and slow pace, you were digging your nails down his skin as each thrust was getting harder, and deeper. Digging into your body as you tried not to be loud. 

Gentle gasps were leaving your lips as his own lips ere glued to your neck, as he frantically tried to silence himself too. You only felt the cold wall pushing each time against your back. 

One of his hands found your waist while the other rested against the cold wall to steady his rhythm, as you were tightening against him, tiptoeing with one leg as you tried to gain balance. 

The electricity between each thrust and each kiss was summoning you into a deep state of pleasure, as you messily tried to grab onto his whole body, lifting your digits to every possible inch of his body that you could reach. 

This was wrong, right? Then why the hell did it feel so good? At that precise moment you didn’t care if he was planning to break your heart. He could take it and crush it and cut it and you wouldn’t care. 

You rolled back your eyes as you curled your toes as he hit the right spot with every thrust. 

He lifted you and moved you against the sink, he changed his pace as you angled your hips, bucking against him. His lips leaving kisses on your shoulder as you arched your back, him rolling his own hips against yours. 

“Fuck, Tom,” was all you could say.

You panted against him as your eyelids were shutting down. As you tried to shift his hand found your core, circling and toying with your clit, helping you build up the already coming orgasm. 

He surged from your neck to go back to your lips as he knew you were close, you barely could kiss him back as his finger rubbed faster against you. You hang from a built moan that was begging to come out but you had to keep shut. 

“Tom,” was the only thing you could barely chant as you rode down your high, his lips hitting down the bottom of your lip as he was staining his clothes with sweat, pushing against you, each time sloppier, stuttering thrusts. 

“Y/N, fuck—“ was all he could said as he came undone. You felt him filling you, as you pursed your lips, shutting any noise that could come from. 

Between heavy breaths he could only connect your lips with his, barely reciprocated lips as you tried to steady your breath out. 

He pulled out as he kept staring at you, his face glimmering with sweat but a big smile was across his face..

*

You watched him and then couldn’t help but laugh again. 

“Y/N!” He rolled his eyes, but chuckled. 

You smirked. “I can’t believe we just did that.” 

“We just joined the mile high club,” he smirked back as he then pulled you back to him. 

“We should probably go back, they might notice.” 

You both cleaned yourselves up and then you walked back to your seat first of course, not forgetting before giving him one last kiss, feeling like everybody was watching you. They weren’t but of course, your brain was precisely thinking that. 

When he walked back to you, he kissed you again. 

“Easy, I am not doing that again,” you warned him. 

He laughed. “I never thought I’d join that club,” he commented. “At least you’re not scared of planes anymore.” 

You snickered nudging him. “Shut up”

He coughed. “You think anybody noticed?” 

You had pulled up the privacy window yet, as q woman was staring at you. “Yes.” 

He laughed. “Bummer.” 

“I don’t do that on first dates,” you mentioned.

“I know, you do it before even dating,” he teased. 

“Dickhead,” you playfully smacked his arm. 

He took the pillow he had behind him and playfully hit you with it. 

“What is wrong with you!” You laughed and then took your own pillow to use it as a weapon. 

However, the flight attendant had come in, of course, she tried not to make a face at two grown adults having a pillow fight on first-class seats. 

She announced your meals or whatever, you tried not to laugh as Tom was trying to keep a straight face. 

You ate and then ended up cuddling again, you ended up watching Back to the Future, against Tom will, and as you were, both of you were trying to find excuses to kiss in between the scenes. He drifted away, holding you close, and you stared at him, his face being more interesting than the sky that was coming from the window.  You thought about his box. Because you’d already jumped down the abyss.   A box full of secrets and full of memories, a box that told the story of how despite everything, you loved him. And you probably didn’t mind. 

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[shih-coulda-had-it]

37. NanaHiko, please

37. “Because I love you goddammit!”

Consider this my sourdough starter for a Nanahiko Die Hard AU. If it ever comes into a fully-realized oneshot spectacular, well. Maybe for Christmas. Anyways, this is, believe or not, a break-up scene.

//

Fighting with Sorahiko is never pretty.

To clarify, Nana doesn’t mean physical fighting. They’ve honed that particular aspect of their partnership to near-perfection (always room for improvement), and when Nana has extricated herself from a fight, sometimes she has enough time to watch Sorahiko work his brutally efficient magic on loose ends.

That kind of fighting is pretty from a professional point of view.

Anyway, what Nana means is—having an argument with Sorahiko. It’s not the first time they’ve engaged in a war of cold shoulders and barbed words, digging up old insults and humiliating stories, resolved to leave reconciliation to the other party.

Nana has always thought it boded well that it never took a mortal injury to get either her or Sorahiko to apologize. 

She is, however, very close to inflicting a mortal injury.

Sorahiko also looks close to committing partner-cide. They are spending a break from patrol by cooling their heels on a rooftop no employee bothers to spend a cigarette break at, and for the past ten minutes, have been politely exchanging words like, “Please do this,” and, “Fuck doing that.”

A full month has passed since Nana digested the whole conspiracy theory about a supervillain controlling Japan’s underground. En’s transferral of One for All had been traumatic for all parties involved, even if Sorahiko didn’t have to witness the horror that was the shoulder socket gushing blood and the half-buried body. Why? Because the first time Nana tested out her new Quirk, she had broken her notoriously hardy partner’s arm.

… It’s been a scary month all around.

“I’m not,” her partner grits out, “going to just quit being a pro-hero.”

“I didn’t say you should ditch the license,” Nana says reasonably.

“You might as well have!”

She rolls her eyes. “Splitting up for a solo career would probably mean better pay for you,” she reiterates. “Better pay, more taiyaki. You’d be a treat by yourself, Gran Torino. Any high-profile agency would want you on the payroll.”

“The salary isn’t the point,” Sorahiko snaps. 

“And you shouldn’t conflate your position as a pro-hero with your position at the Eyrie! Don’t let the agency limit your ambitions!”

“What ambitions?”

“You know,” says Nana, gesturing aimlessly. She’s trapped herself with that useless encouragement. Sorahiko is so thoroughly unambitious, he would let a pet rock win an election to Prime Minister. “Whatever made you get into heroics.”

He stares at her.

“Get out there,” she adds. “Chase your dreams.”

“You’re being stupid,” he says.

“Don’t start.”

Sorahiko starts. His mouth twists into a snarl, eyebrows drawing together under the mask, frustration creeping into his posture. He is madder than she’s ever seen him, and Nana once witnessed Sorahiko yell bloody murder at his landlord. The landlord had been reduced to tears, and furthermore, had reduced the rent for the entire complex.

Nana does not intend to yield.

“First you inherit a transferable strength Quirk that knocks you out of commission for a week,” he says, “then you get all weird about tanking hits you know I can take, and now you’re advising I leave the Eyrie by myself? For my own good?”

“Yes,” she says, already feeling miserable.

“Are you on some kind of power trip?”

“No!”

His gloved hands curl into fists, mirroring Nana’s, or maybe she is mirroring him. Another side-effect of being friends for so long; she can’t imagine what kind of pro-hero she is without Gran Torino next to her. 

A pro-hero that won’t drag their best friend into the worst conspiracy theory to come true. 

“I won’t quit until you do,” Sorahiko swears. “Are we partners or not?”

“Partnerships dissolve.”

He flinches back for once. “You don’t mean that.”

“People sometimes grow in different ways. It doesn’t mean they’re abandoning their partner, it’s just… You don’t have any obligation to hold my hand for my entire career. If there’s a roadblock ahead, and you see it, you should be able to jump out of the car, right?” 

“Shimura. Shut up.”

“I really mean it,” Nana continues doggedly. “One for All attracts way more attention than we agreed we should aim for, so if we split paths now, you don’t have to suffer all the cameras tracking and recording your moveset. Did I say cameras? I meant henchmen of some evil bastard. You didn’t sign up for this.”

“Don’t tell me what I did or didn’t sign up for,” he hisses.

“Well, I have to guess,” she says, “considering I never saw your origin story, haha!”

His face goes a blotchy pink, starting with his ears. Sorahiko’s jaw visibly clenches. Nana, however, is one-hundred percent serious. Despite being friends with Sorahiko from primary school up till now (excusing the few years of junior high), Nana still has no idea what drives Sorahiko to be Gran Torino.

Reuniting in Class 1-A of U.A. High had felt a bit like fate. 

“You have to guess?” he grits out, sounding slightly incredulous.

“You’re a very private person. Ah, don’t tell me I’ve somehow forgot it.” Nana puts her hands at her hips, trying to drag this fight back into friendly banter. “Not for the applause. Not for the legacy, assuming the Commission ever gets their memorial site set up. Are you sure it wasn’t for the money?”

“Shimura.”

“C’mon,” she says coaxingly. “What’s the dream-goal, Gran Torino? Why heroics?”

“Shimura.”

“Don’t worry about harming my feelings! Oh! It’s for your namesake, huh? Ah, Sorahiko, you really gotta let that one go, I don’t think you’d have any fun driving around these streets. You’ll just scare all the pedestrians into throwing tomatoes at your precious baby—”

“Because I love you goddammit!” Sorahiko shouts, barking it loud enough to frighten some voyeuristic pigeons. 

“What,” Nana says. She has to process his words even though they ring in her ears. His confession is a curse. Typical Sorahiko, Nana thinks hysterically, except this is not typical at all. Torino Sorahiko, admitting to love? 

Torino Sorahiko, not being done yet, rails on. “Because you’re my best friend, and I like myself when I’m with you, so stop trying to cut me out of your life! If you—if you hate me, then just say it! Say I’m annoying! Clingy! Useless! Don’t just tell me to step out the front door and leave you behind!”

Oh, he’s properly mad now.

Thing is, Nana’s mad too.

“Don’t you use that against me,” she says, fury seeping in, because how dare he? Like confessing to loving her settles this argument, some deus ex-machina device that will defuse Nana’s very sincere attempt to prevent Sorahiko from being murdered. She can’t believe the nerve of her partner, trying to manipulate the part of her that’s a hopeless romantic. “Don’t lie.”

“Lie?” Sorahiko echoes, enraged. “You think—?”

“I think you would do a lot of things to win a fight,” Nana seethes.

“You’re impossible.”

She wants to punch his stupid face so badly, but Sorahiko’s hands are already scrabbling at his domino mask, ripping it off. After blinking several times to reorient his senses, he refocuses his glare at her.

“What part of that confession sounded fake?” he demands, crumpling the black silk-composite in one fist.

“The timing. The whole concept. Everything!”

“You don’t think I’m capable of it?”

“I didn’t say that,” Nana objects, but her immediate gut reaction had been to say, I’m not worthy of it. She has a name for Gran Torino’s behavior now—his loyalty, devotion, affection—he tied himself to her so long ago, and Nana never even knew she was holding a leash. How unfair to him, how stupid and shortsighted of her.

Sorahiko takes a step into Nana’s personal bubble. He persists. “Say you hate me.”

She can see where Sorahiko wants to take this.

“Do you hate me, Shimura?”

Nana bites her tongue from its reflexive denial; when she tries to lie, it sticks in her throat.

“Do you really want me to go?” Sorahiko asks, and without his mask, he looks vulnerable. Pale brown eyes catching the sunset, gleaming gold. How much of Sorahiko’s life has been deferring his dreams to follow hers? What has he given up that Nana’s never asked about? Does he have any commitments outside of heroics? 

“I think,” Nana finally forces out, “we need some time apart.”

One beat of silence. Two.

“You’re not joking.”

“No.”

Sorahiko breathes, a steady and barely audible sound, and Nana finds herself mirroring it. She crosses her arms and looks to the horizon. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sorahiko slowly uncrumpling his mask, smoothing out wrinkles with his forefinger and thumb. Methodical for a nervous tic.

“It’s not that you’ve done something wrong.”

“Spare me the bullshit,” he says. The bitter tone sends a chill through Nana’s heart, but she steels herself. “How long?”

“Long as we need,” she deflects.

“What’s the goal here?”

Nana glances at Gran Torino, notes the grim set of his expression, and restrains herself from poking at the down-turned twist to his frown. Instead, she says, “You said you like who you are when you’re with me. I don’t think you’ve ever really been without me, so… Figure yourself out, Gran Torino.”

“And Sky High?”

“We’ll shelve the idea for a later time,” says Nana weakly, as though running an agency together hasn’t been their—her?—dream since high school.

He grunts in acknowledgment.

Together, they survey the cityscape. They will finish the day’s patrol. Gran Torino will, for the first time, clock out early and storm home.

And Nana will quietly file her two-week notice.

There’s an international pro-hero exchange program being organized with the United States, and Nana intends to join. The probation period is a year; if Nana can make it through that, then she can apply to be a mentor to aspiring pro-heroes, all the while cultivating One for All on the side.

(She doesn’t mean to forget the confession. But then again, who knows if that’s really what Sorahiko felt for her?)

[softboywriting]

Blonde | Shawn Mendes

Summary: You’re Shawn’s go to person, his confidant, his best friend who he is absolutely in love with but won’t commit to because of his hectic life. When things get too stressful and he feels like he’s completely lost control to his management and label, he comes to you with a bad idea and a tired heart. It’s finally time for things become more between the two of you. [established friendship/relationship] [non-au]

Word Count: 3.1k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Shawn shows up at your apartment at midnight two days before his birthday with a bottle of Jack Daniels and a box of platinum blonde hair color. He was the last person you expected to see when you looked through your peephole, but somehow you weren't too surprised. Shawn always comes to you when he needs someone, when he is sick of being famous and being told what to do and who to be. He comes to you for comfort, for love and affection. The two of you are good friends, very familiar with each other, you've hooked up a few times, it's a special relationship. It's like a no strings attached relationship because Shawn is afraid he can't commit while he's on tour and living his life as a rockstar. It's fine, you don't mind waiting for him because he is absolutely worth it. 

The moment you open the door he barrels in, bag in hand, and sets it on your kitchen island. "Fuck me up," he says, eyes tired. He's got dark circles, like he hasn't slept. He must have just gotten home from tour.

"Excuse me?" You laughs, folding your arms over your chest. "Are you alright?" 

"No. I'm tired of being told what I should do, what I should want. I'm sick of everything being planned. I just want to do something crazy, and I want to do it with you." 

You pull open the plastic bag and see the bottle of whiskey and the hair color. "Oh no, oh my God no." 

"Yes." Shawn runs his hands through his hair. "I want to piss Andrew off. If I go blonde he will be livid. I don't know what else to do that isn't too drastic, I need his attention and now. Things have to change."

"Damn. You've really had it." You turn the box of color over in your hands. It's permanent. "If I do this, I'm going to get chewed out by Andrew too. You know he doesn't like me very much anyway, after I refused to sign his NDA and stole you away from your birthday party last year."

"He won't know. I'll say I did it."

You raise your eyebrows. "Uh huh. Somehow I don't think he will believe you. But I'm not going to tell you no if it's what you want to do." 

Shawn goes to a cabinet and opens it to grab two tumblers. "It's either blonde or I buzz my hair off."

"Blonde it is." You step up behind him while he fills the glasses with ice. You run your hand up the back of his hair and he drops his head to the front of the fridge. He is always putty in your hands. "What about just the tips?" 

"No." 

"Highlights?" 

Shawn turns his head to look at you and you smile pleadingly. "I wanna go full blonde. If I have to I'll dye it back later but I want to give him an ulcer he's so stressed out, give him a taste of his on medicine." 

You back away, fingers sliding from his hair as you go. "What's the whiskey for? Courage?" 

"Fun." He smirks, clinking together the ice filled glasses on the counter before opening the amber bottle. "I haven't had a drink in three months. On tour I can't drink, not more than two beers maybe. It makes me feel like shit and my voice sound like hell." He pours the whiskey slowly. "So I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone. Piss off Andrew, and loosen up a bit."

"I'm always down for both." 

"I know, that's why I came to you."

_____________________

Twenty minutes later and you've got Shawn sat on a dining chair, head full of blonde dye, your hands coated in the mushy foamy substance. It's probably the worst idea he has ever had but the way he smiled when you squeezed the first bit of mixture on his head sold you completely. He is going to look ridiculous, it's going to be awful and you know it. He knows it, but if it helps him get what he wants then so be it.

"Okay, I'll put a shower cap on you and we'll let it set for thirty minutes since you've got dark hair." You peel off the protective gloves the kit came with and toss them in the trash. "I can't believe I actually did this to your hair."

"Nah, come on it's fun." Shawn lifts his phone up to see his soaked hair. "It'll be great."

"Right, sure." You fit a spare shower cap over his head that you use from time to time for oil treatments on your hair. "Thirty minutes. I'll set the stove timer so we don't miss hearing it on our phones."

"Why wouldn't we hear our phones?" 

"Because." You pass him his drink. "You and I drinking together can get loud and or very involved." 

"I didn't come for that." He stands up and moves aside the dining chair. "I mean if it happens then that's fine but I don't want you to think I brought the whiskey for that." 

"I didn't think that. I just know it's a possibility." 

"So what do you want to do for thirty minutes?" 

You grab your glass and head for the living room. "Well, I'm sure there's a movie we could start watching. Or we can just talk for awhile. I could give you a massage?" 

"You'd do that?" He tosses back the rest of his drink and pours a bit more on the remaining ice. "I love massages." 

"I know. Come on, lay on the couch and I'll see what I can do." 

Shawn nods and puts his drink on the coffee table before laying face down on your sofa. You crawl onto his back, sitting on his butt and he groans.

"Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, just wasn't expecting that." 

"What? Me sitting on you?" You grip his waist and he visibly melts. 

Shawn mumbles something but you don't make it out as you go to work kneading his back gently. 

_____________________

Half an hour goes by quickly and Shawn falls asleep. You wonder why he has let his stress build up like this. Why not say something sooner? You crawl off of him and shake his shoulder. 

"Time to wash your hair out," you pat the shower cap and he sits up, a drool mark on the couch and his chin. "Come on big guy. Up and attem." 

Shawn rubs his face and stands up. "I didn't realize I'd passed out. It's already time to shower?” 

"Yep." You pull him up and he heads for the bathroom.

He pauses, looking back at you. "You're the only one who can put me to sleep like that."

You smile and he leans his head on the doorframe. "I'm glad I could help." 

"You always do." 

______________________

"This is awful." 

You look up from your phone where you've been scrolling through pictures of you and Shawn. It's nice to reminisce, to look back on the memories you've made the last few years. You can't wait to add a photo of his blonde hair to your collection. It's gonna be a good one. 

"Is it bad?" You call out, heading for the bathroom door. "Can I come in?" 

Shawn pulls the door open and he's standing there in his jeans, no shirt and his hair is light blonde. It's still soaking wet but it is undeniably blonde. When it dries it's going to be ridiculous. "It's something."

"Yeah, it's different." You stifle a laugh and run your hand through the back. "Looks like I got it all covered though."

"I love it." He grins, grabbing your hair dryer and plugging it in. "It's awful and perfect. Andrew is going to shit his pants."

You take the hair dryer and push him down on the toilet. "Let me do it." You grab the diffuser attachment from a drawer and put it on the end of the dryer. "I want to preserve your curls even if they are blonde."

"You always did love my curls." He smiles, and you tilt his head down. "Do you like the blonde?" 

"Like I said, it's different." 

He wraps his arms around your waist. "Thank you, for doing this for me."

"You know I'm up for anything, well, almost anything." You flip the hair dryer on and the noise fills the small room. "You're lucky I love you so much." 

_____________________

Morning comes and Shawn is curled around you in your bed. At first you're confused. The sun pouring in the thin white curtains casts a glow across your bedding and you see the tousle of blonde hair on the pillow beside you. You're unsure of who is in your bed, panicking for just a split second before you remember that it's actually just Shawn. 

"Good morning," you mutter, hand going through his hair. In the daylight it's so much worse. Blonde is not his color. 

Shawn lifts his head and rubs his eyes. "What time is it?" 

"Just after seven." 

"I have time then." He smiles and looks at you with sleepy soft eyes. "I don't have to be at the studio until nine. Do you want to get breakfast?" 

"Just us?"

"Mmhmm. The diner on fifteenth street has a good breakfast."

You sit up and he follows. "We've never gone out alone, just the two of us. Is it a good idea?" 

Shawn shrugs into a stretch. "I'm full of bad ideas right now. What's another one?"

You laugh softly. "Alright, get your jeans on and we'll get breakfast. But you're paying, since I did your hair for you."

"Deal."

______________________

Sitting in the diner with Shawn, you can't help but stare at his hair. You're obsessed and you can't decide if you truly hate it or not. It's just so different and the contrast between his eyebrows and the blonde hair reminds you of a Pokemon villain. No you don't like it. 

"What're you staring at?" 

"You." You chuckles and stir your straw around in your chocolate shake. Shawn insisted you get it since you said you've never been here and not gotten one. Never mind that it's just after seven thirty in the morning. 

Shawn runs a hand over his curls. "I'm gonna be honest, I avoided the mirror this morning. It's bad huh?" 

"It's not bad but it doesn't suit you. I've always loved your hair, at least you didn't buzz it."

"God no, I'd probably die if I did. I was only joking when I said I considered that."

"Good." You smile softly. "I'd have nothing to run my hands through if you did."

Shawn grins and takes your shake, drinking from your straw, not bothering to open a new one. "You're the only one I like to touch my hair y'know."

"Mmhmm. I'm also the only one who you like to rub your face when you have a headache, and scratch your back when it's itchy. There's a lot of things you only like when I do them."

"Yeah..." He smiles, into the shake and lifts the straw out to lick it. "Do you want to go out with me?" 

"We are out?" 

"No, I mean like out, out. A date."

You pull the shake away from him and he keeps the straw, sucking the chocolate shake off of it like a kid. "I thought you weren't going to date until you were at a slower point in your career."

"Yeah, but that's never going to happen and I'll be old and alone. You know what my life is like, you know how hectic it can be but you put up with it, with me." 

You lean your head on your hand and smile. Before you can say anything, Shawn's phone buzzes on the table. He grabs it and you give him a worried look. Breakfast will probably be cut short. 

"Studio?" You ask. 

Shawn shakes his head as he swipes to hang up on the call. "Nothing important."

"Oh." You push aside your now empty shake glass and sit back on the old red leather booth seat. "Well, I was going to say-"

His phone buzzes again, another call. 

"Just answer it."

"No." Shawn swipes and then does something else, presumably making it silent. "I'm on my time right now and I'm spending it with you."

"It's Andrew isn't it?" 

"Yep." Shawn smirks and pockets the phone. "So, my question?" 

You lean forward and fluff his hair. "Well I was going to say, this blonde hair has made you pretty bold or you're still drunk if you're asking me out." 

"No, I'm just tired of not being myself. I wanna live for me, do what I want, make myself happy. I want to start with you, because you make me so happy."

"You know I've been waiting for you to say the word, but I know you didn't want to date because of your work." You laugh and he threads his fingers between yours on the table, eyes on yours and they're so full of love. "Let's do this."

"Yeah I-" Shawn pulls his phone out and rolls his eyes. "Fuck, Andrew is freaking out. I guess I should answer in case it's an emergency."

"I don't mind, go ahead." You play with his fingers mindlessly, twisting his ring around on his middle finger, one you gave him a few years ago for Christmas. 

He swipes to answer and then looks around the diner. "What do you mean? Are you here?" 

You sit up straight and look around for Andrew. There are very few people in the diner and you definitely don't see his manager anywhere. 

"Yeah, I'm having breakfast. How'd you know where I was?" Shawn looks annoyed. "I'm allowed to have a life. I'm not supposed to be at the studio until nine." 

"Did he track you?" You whisper and he nods. Stupid GPS, it's ridiculous. 

"No I didn't get that message. Well, sorry. I guess my signal was shit last night. I guess we can meet you at the studio." He looks around once more and points to the front doors, behind you. You turn and look to see Andrew standing outside the diner. "Yeah, I'm with a friend and I'm going to bring her with me. Don't worry about who. No I'm not making her sign an NDA. Andrew it's fine." 

You roll your eyes. Andrew and his non disclosure happy ass. The dude didn't trust anyone alone with Shawn who wasn't his team, which have all signed NDAs too. It's annoying. 

"Yeah, we'll meet you outside. Yeah. I see you. Bye." Shawn pockets his phone and stands up, offering you his hand. "Come on, I'll make it up to you later." 

"But we haven't paid." You stand up and Shawn pulls a twenty from his wallet real quick and places it under the milkshake glass. It's more than enough. "Alright then, lead the way, or should I?" 

"You should. He's going to freak out when he sees my hair." 

You grab Shawn's hand and he turns around, facing the front doors of the diner as you head for them. As you approach you can see the color drain from Andrews face as he looks in the window. A wicked smile spreads across your face, ear to ear. It's just the reaction you both wanted. 

The door jingles as it opens and then closes behind you and Shawn. Andrew looks livid. He doesn't even say anything as he tugs a piece of Shawn's hair gently to check if it's a wig. 

"I decided to go for a new look." Shawn says through a shit eating grin. "I think platinum is in right now."

"Definitely." You agree, fixing a stray curl. 

Andrew runs his hand over his head and lets out the angriest sigh you have ever heard. "What do you want? What do you want Shawn? Why? Why?!"

Shawn puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you against his chest. "I want to enjoy my life and have a little more control over what I say and do. I get it I'm restricted in some aspects by the label but I'm sick of being puppeted around." 

"Jesus... fuck- is this...like repressed teenage rebellion?" Andrew dials a number on his phone and holds it up to his ear as it rings. "I guess we can work something out I- yes Sheila?"

Shawn reaches out and takes Andrews phone from his hand. "No, this is what I'm talking about. You're fucking calling a hair stylist to fix my hair. You're literally making a decision for me, right now. Stop."

"Shawn, you're acting like a child." Andrew says, reaching for his phone. "We can discuss this later. In front of a diner is not the best place."

"I didn't want to have to do this, but I won't renew next month when my contract is up." His grip tightens on you and your heart races. 

"What!?" You interject, looking up at Shawn. He can't be serious. He would leave his management team and label over this. Things must be a lot worse than he has let on. 

Andrew's face pales for the second time. "You wouldn't." 

Shawn passes Andrew his phone. "I'm dead serious. I'm not asking for anything unreasonable. I just want to have more say in what I'm doing and where, and who with." 

"Fine. I'll talk to-" 

"No, you'll do this. Don't act like you have to talk to your boss. I know that it's your call to relinquish creative control and executive decision." Shawn leans his head on yours. "And the first thing I'm going to do is date someone, publicly."

Andrew closes his eyes and pockets his phone. "Alright. I'll make some calls, and I'll give you the option to do things or not, and..." He looks at you and you smile, knowing he isn't the biggest fan of you since you're the one who Shawn usually goes to and you're the one who encourages him to ask for more. "I suppose you can date publicly. I guess it's time."

"Thank you." Shawn says softly. 

"I'll meet you at the studio." Andrew says, turning and heading for his car nearby. "Try not to be seen?" 

"No promises," you laugh with a little wave goodbye. 

Shawn looks around at the very open public downtown street. "I'll do my best?" 

"Your gonna give me an ulcer." Andrew groans and gets in his car. 

You turn in Shawn's hold and lay your hand on his cheek. "Alright, you got your reaction. How fast can we dye your hair back?"

"Tonight, please?" 

"We'll stop by the store and get some dye on the way to the studio." 

"Sounds good to me." Shawn grabs your hand. "Do you want to go out afterwards? On an actual date?" 

You thread your fingers between his. "Yes, I'd love to."

He leans down and kisses your temple. "You're the best. Thank you for helping me with my bad ideas." 

You smile and laugh. "You're welcome, let's go." 

"Yeah, let's go, together." 

End

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

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[sleepy-exe]

Shapeshifter AU - 4

Iwaizumi x f!reader

<< Part 3 | Part 5 >>

Summary: Iwaizumi goes stargazing with Y/n at a park in the forest. She tries to find out what he knows. She then stays the night with him for more info, but what’s the plan? Sakusa just wants his friend to be safe.

Word count: 2.8k 

Warnings: y/n makes bad choices, and is kind of a creep but confronts that, poor Sakusa’s driving skills get shit talked and he ain’t even here, murder mentioned (1) one time, I prob got too detailed with the car reveal, sakusa is best boy, iwa’s a total dad 

Genre: sfw (for now, 18+ regardless), shapeshifter au, strangers to potential enemies to friends to lovers

a/n: I probably wrote too much about the car, but I’m a car guy (gal? person?). I hope yall like stars/stargazing. This is like borderline fluff. Also did you like Sakusa’s contact name. Cause I thought it was funnier than it actually is.

Part 4: It Can’t Hurt

Now outside the bar, the two of them headed for her car. There was only street parking when Y/n arrived earlier, so she had to walk down the street for a good 5 minutes or so to get there; all along they chatted about Ikuno. She never really came here except for the dive bar. It was only about a 15 minute drive here from work, so that was a bonus, but otherwise she had no reason to be in Ikuno.

Reaching her black Civic, the doors unlocked. She crawled into the passenger seat herself as Iwaizumi agreed to drive to the park. Being a shifter, she’s not too afraid of being in the car with a stranger. Surely she could defend herself against one guy - she’d be alone with him in the car and at the park. On the other hand, if he thinks there’s something weird up with her, such as being able to turn into a wolf, she wondered why he would even agree to tag along. Wouldn’t he be afraid of her?

Once he was in and shut the door, he was checking out the interior: black with red accents on the dash, doors, and steering wheel. In dash computer, racing style seats and petals. “When you said you drove a Civic, this isn’t what I was expecting.” He found the push start before bothering to ask for the keys.

“She’s cute, huh? ‘17 Type-R. My baby,” she went on, running a hand over the dash affectionately and giving it a little pat.

“’Cute’.. Not sure if that’s the word I’d choose.” He gave her a concerned look, “You really want a stranger driving your.. ‘baby’?”

“What are ya shit at driving?” She teased, “Please. I’m not letting you take off without me.” The memory of Sakusa learning to drive a manual in Type-R when it was new popped in her head. That was a rough day for her poor car. If this guy really knows how to drive a manual, then it can’t be any worse for it than when Sakusa is driving. She chuckled, “A friend I let drive it, I taught him to drive stick in this. He still isn’t great, but he doesn't stall it nearly as much as he used to.” She shrugs and taps on the screen in the dash, setting the GPS for the park.

“You taught your friend to drive in this?” He started the engine, put it in first gear, and pulled out of the parking spot flawlessly.

“To drive a manual,” she corrected, “He could already drive. He just only drives automatics. I tried telling him these are a lot more fun.”

The bar isn’t that far from the highway, so they were on it in no time. Driving down the highway, again he was shifting through gears smoothly. A nice change from the rough shifting she usually experiences while riding passenger. She should really get Sakusa to practice more. Not that he wants to. Deciding to text Sakusa, she pulls out her phone and sends him her GPS location for their little outing. Just to be safe. It’s not even quite 10pm yet, so he shouldn’t care. Though regardless he’d never complain about this sort of text.

More time went by as they traveled down the highway. They sat in silence, other than the engine and various street sounds. It wasn’t too awkward and Iwaizumi has yet to complain like she’s used to. If anything, he might be enjoying the ride.

With a buzz, she checks her texts. Sakusa replied and asked that she check in later so he knows she's safe. As much as she mentally shit talks his driving, she knows he’s an amazing friend and she loves him to death.

Checking his text, she was reminded of Oikawa’s text in the bar essentially asking if she were single. Though he was likely teasing and just trying to text something other than ‘hi’ or his name, but why not have fun with it.

>> To ’Oi-chan‘: “who’s asking?”

“So,” she breaks the silence, “Have you been to this park?”

“What one is it again?” He glanced at the GPS’s listed destination, “No, I haven’t been in that area. At least not that I can’t think of.”

“But you’ve been south of there then?”

He hesitated. “I haven’t been in the forest or surrounding parks. I've just been by them. I have friends that live around there and down the street is a convenience store right by the tree line that I sometimes run to if I’m over there.. But other than that, I don’t know the forest or the area for that matter.”

“I see.. It’s really beautiful out there.”

“Maybe I’ll have to go sometime when the sun’s out then. You’re a regular, right? Maybe you can show me around?”

Well. Sort of.

Not a regular at the trails and parks. Or being there during daylight hours. “I wouldn’t say regular.. I haven’t been to this park in ages.”

He had no response. Only looking out the windshield as he exited the highway. The GPS showed only 8 minutes left. The area ahead full of trees.

Y/n directed Iwaizumi where to park as the gates to the parking lot were closed. All nature parks are closed at night after all. There was even a sign stating that and warning visitors not to enter after dark, but where’s the adventure in following those warnings?

“You.. Sure we should be here?” Iwaizumi asked warily, walking alongside her in the grass. They left the car along the road, but no one should be out here this late so it’s fine.

“Like legally or..?”

“Y/n!”

She laughed and led him to an open field. The trees were far enough from this spot to give a clear view of the sky, stars twinkling, crescent moon shining. This really is the best place to stargaze. She wasn't lying about that.

“Hey! Don’t run!” He yelled as she took off for the middle of the field, giggling in response.

“I’m sure you can catch up, Mr. Athletic Trainer!”

“That’s not-“

But she wasn't listening. Instead she was slowing down as she reached the perfect spot, sitting down in the grass. Very soon he was sitting down too, a couple feet from her.

He wasn’t even in arms reach. “Okay, so what now.”

She smiles at him then looks to the sky. It can be hard to see the stars with how bright the city was, but out here was far enough away from any unnatural light source that she could pick out constellations. Well, the ones she knew anyway.

The both of them sat quietly, looking to the stars, hearing nothing but the nocturnal sounds of the woods surrounding them. Generally such spaces were incredibly calming, but with the anticipated conversation her heart was pounding. She still didn’t know anything for sure and her excuse of too many people around to ask questions, like at the bar, didn’t work here. Alone, far from anyone, in her element - what better time to find her answers.

In a low voice, still admiring the stars, she spoke, “So.. You’ve seen me ‘round before, huh?”

She peeks at him from the corner of her eye. No response, he’s only staring forward. So she continues, “Like at that bar? ..I’m not in Ikuno much, and deeper in the city can be so crowded, I doubt you would have noticed me anywhere there.” She tried not to jump straight to the point. Frightened prey always ran after all.

In a similar tone, he answers, “Maybe the bar.. Maybe we crossed paths elsewhere..”

Still looking up, though not at anything in particular, she hummed. “I think I’ve seen you before too.” She could feel his eyes on her now, but chose to not make eye contact and instead point up to a small constellation she found. She named what she thought it was aloud, pointing it out to Iwaizumi.

“Where?” He squinted at the sky, no idea which stars she was pointing to.

With a snicker she inched closer to him. Tracing a finger in the air, “Look. Right there. A few kinda go in a line and some off the side.”

He keeps staring at the sky, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Pretty sure you’re just crazy.”

The look she threw his way was comical, “No! I’m not!”

“Uh huh.. Definitely crazy.. You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you?” He looked back to her, serious as ever, “..‘Cause Oikawa will be so upset if I don't show up for lunch tomorrow. Seriously. He’ll whine so much, and he has your number now. He’ll absolutely call you and whine, thinking I’m ignoring him. You don't want that, right?”

She stared blankly at him. For a second there she really did think he was serious. “..Yeah. That sounds really annoying. I’d hate to have to deal with a sobbing Oikawa.” She attempted a playful tone that may or may not have failed. She followed up with a chuckle for good measure, “Guess I can’t commit murder then. That’d look bad on my record anyway. Plus, someone as pretty as me in prison? No thanks.”

He laughed and leaned back on his hands, gaze back at the sky. Tension down, she scooted closer. “There really is a constellation there, I swear.”

“Yeah. I see it.” He glanced towards her for a split second, “I was just fucking with you.”

Her jaw dropped. “Rude!”

She returned her attention to the sky, searching for any other constellation she might recognize. He even pointed one out to her, though he couldn’t remember what it was called. Unfortunately, she couldn’t either, but it was definitely a constellation. Had to be.

“..The convenient store you said your friend’s by. I think I’ve seen you there before. Maybe you recognized me from there?” Silence, but she noticed he was looking at her again. Slowly she turned her head to meet his gaze. Keeping calm, she gave him a light smile. He didn’t look all that uneasy, like she felt in her gut. She spoke with warmth, desperate to keep the conversation from getting uncomfortable, “Iwaizumi?”

The corners of his lips ticked up and mischief shined in his eyes. “What are you a stalker or something?” He laughed as she scoffed. “Fine. I've probably been there enough times. Maybe I did see you there before.”

Leaning her head back, she looked at the sky once more, but this time she wasn't searching the stars.

He doesn't seem like he’ll be a problem..

She was sitting much closer now than when they first arrived at the park. Carefully, she leaned her head on his shoulder, inhaling orange and sage and something else. She glances up to him before quickly averting her eyes to the stars one more time.

Soon both of them were walking out of the field. “I can take you home,” she offered.

Iwaizumi was trailing close to her side, heading back to the car that was left forgotten along the small paved road. Luckily, no authorities showed up. “I might take you up on that. It won't be out of the way will it?”

“If you’re in Ikuno, then that’s not too awfully far off from my drive home.” She gave him a teasing look, “Unless you would rather go to my place.. Though Ikuno is closer. Maybe I’ll just stay with you.”

He rolled his eyes and complained, “Are you really inviting yourself to my apartment?” Nudging her arm with his, and teased, “Think I wouldn’t invite you myself?”

She cocked a brow, “Oh?” Car now in sight, she heads for the driver’s door, making the car unlock. “I’ll drive.” Opening the door she added, “Just put your address in the GPS for me.”

Mini mission complete.

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “didn’t die. didn’t go home tho”

Following Iwaizumi into his apartment, Y/n kicked off her shoes by the door and hung up her coat. He had done the same and was headed for the kitchen to the right. “Hungry? Want anything?”

“Nah, thanks though.” She helped herself to the armchair in the corner across the room. His home felt warm and cozy, the sofa now to her right looked just as comfortable as the chair she’s in, coffee table mostly neat with books and a stack of papers. A soft area rug covered the center of the living room, covering a large portion of the wooden floors, the walls were a soft tan and to her surprise not completely bare. An entertainment center sat against the wall opposite of the sofa, a bookcase next to that. And there’s the large window to her left on the wall behind her. It gave that homey vibe. Looking lived in, but not a mess.

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “Do you plan on going home or are you going on one of your late night runs?”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’:“Should I stay up waiting on a I’m home text?”

Iwaizumi walked in from the kitchen with two glasses of water and placed one on the coffee table in front of her.

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “neither and no”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “go to sleep sakusa”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “and thank you”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa)’: “I want to ask but also don't want to know so goodnight Y/n. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Without spilling his water, Iwaizumi fell back on the sofa, watching as she typed away on her phone. “Letting someone know where you are?”

“Maybe,” she mumbles, setting her phone in her lap, she reached for the water.

“I mean, that’s a good habit to have if you are.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure you don't want anything to eat?”

She laughed, “Do you normally parent the people you bring home from bars?”

“I’d hardly say I brought you home when you invited yourself over and then complained about being tired halfway here,” he complained.

“Well, I appreciate that ya offered to take over and aren’t forcing me to drive home tired.” She smiled then looked around again. “Do you have a dog or anything? Anyone live with ya? ..Ah! If you don't mind me asking.”

He shook his head, “No. No pets and it's just me here.”

Finishing her water, she carefully set the glass back on the coffee table. “I’m not hungry, but don't let that stop you from eating if you are.. If you don't mind, I may clean up while ya eat.”

“Of course,” he leaned forward to set his half empty glass down and retrieved hers before standing. “I’ll show you where everything is.”

She followed him down a short hallway as he led her to a bathroom. He pointed out anything she might need and got her a towel, as well as offering her clothes to sleep in to be more comfortable. She sniffed different soaps and such while he stepped out for a moment. Returning quickly with what appeared to be a t-shirt and sweatpants. She thanked him as he left the bathroom once more.

“Oh hey,” he stopped in the doorway and pointed in the opposite direction of the living space, “My room is that way. I’m just going to sleep out here.”

“Oh no no no,” she held a hand up, “You sleep in your bed. I’m fine with taking the sofa. I’m already using your place for tonight, it's no bother.”

“I can’t let-“ With the look she shot him, she cut him off. He lifted his hands, “Okay.. I’ll be in the kitchen for now.”

And with that he was gone, door closing behind him. Flipping the lock, she turned back to the shower. Turning it on, she messed with the temperature until it was just right before stripping and getting in.

After a probably longer than necessary shower, she felt clean and now smelled of sage, orange, and black pepper. Sweeping her damp hair back and out of her face, she got into the clothes he left for her. Which admittedly didn't fit the best, but they’d work. She stared at her dirty clothes for a moment before deciding to just leave them in a neat pile in there and picked up her phone.

Stepping into the hall, she didn't hear anything. Walking around the kitchen and living room, she determined he must be in bed already. Setting her phone aside, she situated the newly found blankets and pillows on the sofa and turned off the lights after opening the curtains to let some light into the room so she could find her way around the unfamiliar space. Crawling into the blankets, she played on her phone quietly, too awake and unsure about the decision she made to stay here. She was supposed to find out what she needed and go home. And yet somehow she was in the home of the very person who kept her up all those nights ago, wondering if he had seen her and what was going to happen if he did.

But nothing has happened. And the last sighting was over a week ago.

And he’s been nice to her even though she’s been a total creep.

What’s the plan?

Part 5 >>

[prince--kiriona]

wip incorrect quotes

yes i AM making a full post of these in chronological order, they’re too good to only be seen by my discord server (also, i am fully willing to post more of my 3am discord ramblings/memes/analyses if y’all are Inch Rested)

(book 1) Marie: It must be nice being rich instead of having to develop a likeable personality. Emilia: Shut up. Marie: Buy my silence.

(book 2) Phoenix: I have a plan! Marie: We are not setting anything on fire. Phoenix: I no longer have a plan.

(book 3) Phoenix: I'm going to change the world. Marie: For the better, right? Phoenix: Marie, narrowing her eyes: For the better, right Phoenix?

(book 4) Serpens: Why is Marie in charge, again? Byron: You stab people for kicks, Virgil can't boil water without setting the kitchen on fire, Phoenix can’t deal with emotions without multiple counts of arson, Needle-and-Thread is a doll, and I don't want to leave my lab enough to deal with your bullshit. Serpens:  Byron: Also, she's the only person here with a moral compass. Serpens:  Byron: I rest my case.

(book 5) Phoenix: My wife is a bitch and I like her SO MUCH Phoenix: She's a dynamite, five-foot-ten brazilian bitch and she's the BEST

(random character moments under the cut because i have too many of these):

Virgil: Byron has these insanely strong opinions on everything. Go on. Ask her a thing no one should have an opinion on. Marie: Hey, Byron, what's the worst possible multiple of four? Byron: Twelve, obviously. Idiot.

Phoenix: *pulls up in a random car * get in, darling. Marie: ...who’s car is that? Phoenix: I don’t know. It wasn’t locked.

Virgil: You've been giving Phoenix a lot of attention lately. Marie: He was injured in a mission! Of course I'd give her attention. Serpens: I was injured in that mission too. Marie: Then you should go to a hospital.

Marie: I’m covered in blood for sexy reasons. Marie: Also I got stabbed. Marie: I don't suppose there's anyone here willing to tenderly clean, stitch and bandage my wounds while calling me an idiot in an exasperatedly fond tone of voice. Phoenix, climbing through the window: Hi yes hello-

Virgil, with a large box in his hands: What would you say if I came home one day with 4 puppies? Marie: Marie: What's in the box? Virgil: Marie: Virgil, what's in the box? Virgil: I think you know.

Silver: Who broke the coffee pot? I’m not mad, I just want to know.   Everyone: Needle-and-Thread: I did it, I broke it. Silver: No. No, you didn’t. Virgil? Virgil: Don’t look at me, look at Marie. Marie: What? I didn’t break it. Virgil: Huh, that’s weird. How did you even know it was broken? Marie: Because it’s standing right in front of us and it’s broken! Virgil: Suspicious. Marie: No, it’s not! Phoenix: If it matters, probably not, Serpens was the last person to use it. Serpens: Liar! I don’t even drink that crap. Phoenix: Oh, really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? Serpens: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Phoenix! Needle-and-Thread: Okay, let’s not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Silver. SIlver: No! Who broke it? Virgil: Byron's been awfully quiet… Byron: Really? Really? [everyone arguing] Silver: I broke it. It burned my hand so I punched it. I predict 10 minutes from now they’ll be at each other’s throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Silver: Good. it was getting a little chummy around here. 

Phoenix: Bad News- Virgil locked the keys inside the flat. Phoenix: Good News- We didn’t have to wait around for a locksmith. Phoenix: Bad News- Virgil finds it very concerning that I know how to pick locks, and tried to unlock my Tragic Backstory™. I was too embarrassed to admit that the reason I learned was because, at thirteen, I figured that was the kind of skill that would impress cute girls. Phoenix: Good News- A cute girl saw me do it. Phoenix: Bad News- It was Marie, and since she’s already seen me fall out of several buildings, cry because I saw a fawn that was just too damn small, and knows I can ride a unicycle, she’ll never think I’m cool no matter what I do. It’s too late. She knows.

*modern au* Phoenix texting Byron: i just walked into a party and some girl yelled dibs Marie texting Byron: IM REALLY DRUNK AND A REALLY CUTE GUY WALKED INTO THE PARTY AND I YELLED DIBS

Phoenix: All the hater’s being like “Aren’t you wanted by the state?” Phoenix: And it’s like, I’m wanted by a lot of people, okay? That’s the price of being pretty. Phoenix: Anyways, I did commit a smidge of larceny.

taglist: @starsmememoire @apricotwrites @alternativeforensicscientist @charles-joseph-writes @absolute-nonsense-scribblings @tragedyshow @aelenko @themidnxghtwriter @jukeboxghost @guulabjamuns @wolfport @thatcertainshadeofpurple @eqqautor @ryryvsthepen @iamnotelise @scrawlsandrambles @junebishopwrites @cay-writes @elywritesbydarkness @kure-writes @sprigofbasil @dragonstoravens @cream-and-tea @lexwritesgayshit @the-inkwell-variable @memories-written-in-words 

[moonwaif]

Upon Reflection

Summary: After nearly a year of pining on his lonesome, Wei Wuxian returns to the Cloud Recesses when a suspicious attempt is made on Lan Wangji's life. While keeping his feelings for Lan Wangji a secret, staying out of trouble (mostly) and trying to be a decent teacher (debatable), it doesn't seem like Wei Wuxian's life could get any more difficult.

Then one morning he wakes up in Lan Wangji's body.

Aka, the post-episode 50 CQL body swap AU you need in your life.

Tags: Body Swap AU, Mutual Pining, WWX has one brain cell, instead of OCs I'm borrowing SVSSS characters, CQL Verse, might mess around and resurrect some people

Rating: T

Excerpt:

“Speaking of Hanguang Jun, what’s his opinion on all of this? Does he even know you two are here?”

Jingyi and Sizhui share another look, and this time it’s guilty. Wei Wuxian chuckles softly, a bitter taste in his mouth. As if Lan Wangji would ever send his disciples out to fetch Wei Wuxian and bring him back to the Cloud Recesses, like some lonely prince in a fairytale romance. If he wanted Wei Wuxian’s help, Lan Wangji would have sought him out himself, instead of letting the months slip past by the handful without so much as a word.

“We left without telling him,” Sizhui admits, “but we had to. You see . . .”

“See what?” Wei Wuxian asks, when it becomes apparent he’s not going to finish. Sizhui glances at Jingyi, who after a few seconds rolls his eyes and nods reluctantly. Sizhui swallows, then speaks.

“Three days ago, Hanguang Jun fainted.”

After parting from Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian deliberately avoids the Cloud Recesses. He’s too brash, too lascivious, too everything for that place. Going back would only spell trouble. Apparently the Cloud Recesses don’t feel the same way, however, because eventually the Cloud Recesses go looking for him.

He’s in a little town just outside of Yueling when the voice calls out to him: “Master Wei!”

Wei Wuxian turns, smiling as soon as he sees the face it belongs to. “A-yuan! What are you doing here?”

Lan Sizhui beams. Beside him, a typically sour-faced Lan Jingyi crosses his arms.

“What am I, chopped meat?” he grumbles.

“Oh, sorry! It’s good to see you too, Jingyi.”

“Master Wei,” Sizhui exclaims, approaching, “we’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Is that so? Then you must be tired. Come on--let’s find a place to sit, and you can tell me about everything you’ve been up to.”

They choose a small restaurant close to the town’s entrance--one of the few public places available in the vicinity. Wei Wuxian manages to dodge most of their questions. What has he been doing over the past year? Oh, traveling here or there with Little Apple, going on the occasional night hunt, enjoying his newfound free and easy life. What about them? Have they heard from Wen Ning? How is everyone at the Cloud Recesses? Zewu Jun and the others, are they doing well?

How about Hanguang Jun?

At this question, Jingyi and Sizhui share an uneasy look. Wei Wuxian's gaze sharpens.

"What?" he asks, glancing between them. "Why are you making that face? What's happened?"

"No reason," Jingyi says quickly, and Wei Wuxian could swear that he feels him kick Sizhui under the table. "He's just busy with a lot of new initiatives."

A spot of warmth blossoms in Wei Wuxian’s chest, replacing the momentary anxiety. “Typical Hanguang Jun. What's he got planned?"

"He is opening the Cloud Recesses back up for lecture," Sizhui answers. "In just eight days, all sects will send their disciples to study cultivation methods.”

“Not all the sects,” Jingyi clarifies, and there it is again--the uneasiness. “But most of them, anyway.”

Wei Wuxian nods thoughtfully. “So the sects are willing to send disciples again, huh? That’s good. Hanguang Jun is wise to bring the clans back together that way.”

“Yes,” Sizhui agrees. “But, um . . .”

Wei Wuxian looks at him expectantly. Sizhui takes a deep breath.

“You see, the thing is, Master Wei . . .”

“We think you’d make a great teacher,” Jingyi finishes.

Wei Wuxian’s jaw drops. “Huh?”

Sizhui seems to sense that they’ve caught him in a moment of weakness, because he launches in full force.

“Your knowledge and innovation in talismans could be a great resource for students. Additionally, your experience and methods in deduction could really help the disciples when they are first learning how to do night hunts.”

“And the younger generation likes you,” Jingyi adds. “If you go, you’ll definitely be popular with the students.”

“Er, guys,” Wei Wuxian says weakly. “I’m flattered, but haven’t you heard the stories about when I was in the Cloud Recesses? I was a terrible student. I really don’t fit in there.”

“Your unconventionality is what will make you unique as an instructor,” Sizhui says, and Wei Wuxian can tell that he must have planned that line with Jingyi during the journey from Gusu.

“Maybe, I guess. I don’t really know anything about teaching.”

Besides, how could he teach cultivation when he didn't even have a golden core?

“You were a great teacher before!” Sizhui insists, and for a split-second Wei Wuxian is almost worried he read his thoughts. “Back when we were working together to escape from the Burial Mounds, you explained everything so well. All of the young people really understood and liked you.”

“Yeah but what about their parents?” Wei Wuxian counters. “If you announce that I’m going to be there--which I won’t be, by the way, because I’m not going--no one will want to send their kids to the Cloud Recesses. They’ll think it’s bad luck, or that I’m going to teach something unorthodox. Even worse, what if I attract unsavory disciples who just want to learn about demonic cultivation? That really won’t look good for the Gusu Lan sect."

“You’ll have the approval of his Excellency, Hanguang Jun,” Jingyi says calmly. “His word will be enough.”

Wei Wuxian's eyes narrow. “Speaking of Hanguang Jun, what’s his opinion on all of this? Does he even know you two are here?”

Jingyi and Sizhui share another look, and this time it’s guilty. Wei Wuxian chuckles softly, a bitter taste in his mouth. As if Lan Wangji would ever send his disciples out to fetch Wei Wuxian and bring him back to the Cloud Recesses, like some lonely prince in a fairytale romance. If he wanted Wei Wuxian’s help, Lan Wangji would have sought him out himself, instead of letting the months slip past by the handful without so much as a word.

“We left without telling him,” Sizhui admits, “but we had to. You see . . .”

“See what?” Wei Wuxian asks, when it becomes apparent he’s not going to finish.

Sizhui glances at Jingyi, who after a few seconds rolls his eyes and nods reluctantly. Sizhui swallows, then speaks.

“Three days ago, Hanguang Jun fainted.”

---

They say that time changes everything, so why is it that visiting the Cloud Recesses feels like a journey to the past?

There are some marks of change. The reconstructed buildings, a memorial here and there for those who gave their lives defending the Cloud Recesses from the Wen clan. But it’s the same tranquility, the same warmth and sense of safety, that almost has Wei Wuxian believing that at any moment Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang are going to round the corner laughing, ready to pull him off on another misadventure.

Maybe the Cloud Recesses haven’t changed, but Wei Wuxian has.

The heart inside him is certainly different as he gazes at Lan Wangji's silhouette through the screened window, arms moving gracefully as the gentle tones of the guqin drift on the night breeze. Once upon a time, Wei Wuxian was willing to do anything to catch the eye of the Second Jade of Lan. Whether it was playing the clown, showing-off his martial skills or even risking his own safety, he never once felt shy about it. Now, over a decade later, just thinking about talking to Lan Wangji is making his stomach tie up in knots.

It’s been almost a year since he and Lan Wangji officially parted. During that year, they only met once or twice, when Lan Wangji surprised him with a visit. The visits had been brief, but there was a moment when Lan Wangji looked at him, pinned him with a dark, trembling gaze, and in that instant Wei Wuxian truly believed that he was going to invite him back to the Cloud Recesses. But he hadn't. Lan Wangji merely left with the promise to visit again soon, and then never came back.

Wei Wuxian isn’t bitter. It makes sense that Lan Wangji’s path would lead away from him, to a place of glory and light. A place where he probably doesn’t have time for the troublesome, complicated life of Wei Wuxian.

But now, as he watches Lan Wangji through the screen, head bowed, the familiar melody somewhat lonely and melancholy, Wei Wuxian feels like an ass.

He should have been checking up on Lan Wangji.

“Hanguang Jun was injured several months ago,” Sizhui had explained back in the restaurant at Yueling. "Afterwards, he secluded himself and went to cultivate in Cold Pool Cave. When he returned, he seemed to have healed. But as the leader of the four sects, he has many responsibilities. He was working so much, and going on night hunts, and then preparing for the lectures--he never got time to rest. Finally, just a few days ago, he collapsed. Jingyi and I overheard him talking with Zewu Jun. The doctors want him to rest, but with the lectures starting, there’s no time. He’s already committed to taking on the lion’s share of the classes. We’re worried that with all of his obligations, his condition will only get worse.”

Outside of Lan Wangji’s window, Wei Wuxian sighs. 'Lan Zhan,' he thinks. 'You really never change, huh.'

He watches for a few moments longer, then removes Chenqing from his belt. He raises the flute to his lips, waits for the right opening in the song, then softly blows.

The guqin goes silent.

The silhouette doesn't move once as Wei Wuxian plays. It sits, still as a statue, until the song finishes. Wei Wuxian waits until the last notes dissipate in the air, then lowers the flute.

"Lan Zhan, are you ready to tell me the name of that song?"

"Wei Ying."

The words are quiet, but once uttered send a smile spreading across Wei Wuxian's face. It doesn't last long. The shoulders of that silhouette suddenly tense, then spasm in time with deep, guttural coughs.

Wei Wuxian moves quickly. “Lan Zhan,” he calls, opening the door, “I’m coming in!”

The look Lan Wangji shoots him from across the room is bewildered, but he’s too busy coughing into his sleeve to say anything. Wei Wuxian rushes over, crouching beside him, one hand unconsciously settling on the spot between Lan Wangji's shoulder blades.

He’s beautiful as always, Wei Wuxian thinks, in that heavenly, elegant way that could make one believe he stepped out of a poem or a painting. If it wasn’t for the faint circles beneath his eyes, the sheen on his forehead, or the pallor of his cheeks, Wei Wuxian probably wouldn’t even notice anything off. He reaches for Lan Wangji's wrist, feeling his pulse. His brow furrows. He lets go of the wrist and quickly moves his fingers to the acupoints on Lan Wangji's chest.

He doesn't need to be an expert healer to know that something is wrong with the energy circulating in Lan Wangji's body.

"Lan Zhan," he murmurs, face darkening. "What is this?"

Lan Wangji coughs a few more times, then pauses, catching his breath. At last he lowers his sleeve. His eyes meet Wei Wuxian’s.

“Wei Ying, why are you here?”

He actually has the audacity to sound a little bit worried--as if Wei Wuxian has appeared because he’s gotten caught up in another dangerous situation and needs his help. Wei Wuxian leans back, suddenly angry.

“Because of you, that’s why! You shouldn’t make your disciples worry so much!”

Lan Wangji drops his gaze. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine! Don't you know Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi came all the way to Yueling looking for me? All because of you!"

“They did what ?”

Crap. Wei Wuxian didn’t mean to get them in trouble. He waves it away hurriedly. “Whatever, whatever, never mind that. Anyway, what's going on? How come your energy's so . . . stagnant like this? Is that why you went to cultivate in Cold Pool Cave, to balance things out?"

Lan Wangji’s expression shifts imperceptibly, growing a little sad, a little embarrassed.

"Poison," he says at last.

Understanding creeps over Wei Wuxian like nausea. "You mean that injury you received all those months ago--"

Lan Wangji nods. "Poisoned."

Panic seizes Wei Wuxian like a greedy ghost. “But there’s something we can do, right? What did the doctor say?”

“It’s not lethal,” Lan Wangji replies calmly, and Wei Wuxian’s shoulders relax. “But periodically, the flow of energy is interrupted.”

“Periodically. So like, only sometimes, when you’ve been using a lot of energy, right?”1

“Mhm.”

Wei Wuxian bites his lip thoughtfully. “I see. And the cure?”

"None."1

“Bullshit! There’s gotta be something. Check the Forbidden Library."

“We searched there. So far, nothing.”

“A poison that’s not even in the Forbidden Library? Lan Zhan, no matter how I think about it, this is really just too suspicious. Where were you when it happened?”

“A village, north of Xietang2. Night hunt.”

“Who sent you there?”

“Rumors. A ghost, disappearances on the western bridge. But when we arrived . . .” Lan Wangji looks up. His face is grave. “A demon.”

Every single warning signal in Wei Wuxian’s mind is blaring. A demon in a small village with an extremely rare poison, who Lan Wangji, the newly appointed Chief Cultivator, just happened to encounter?

“How did it poison you?” he asks.

“Its blade.”

Wei Wuxian wants to know more, but Lan Wangji suddenly lets out a stifled, dry cough. The sound shakes Wei Wuxian to the core.

The questions can wait.

“Now that I’m here you should just rest, okay?" he says soothingly. "Focus on getting better. I’ll be here to help out, so don’t worry about anything. Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

The hand on Lan Wangji’s back slips over his shoulder as Wei Wuxian prepares to raise them both up. Lan Wangji, however, remains seated.

“You’re staying?” he asks incredulously.

“Of course I’m staying! You really think I’d let you start that lecture series without me? Someone has to make sure the lessons are at least a little bit interesting, or the Gusu Lan sect will have all of those poor kids bored to death!"

Besides, if there really is someone who has it in for Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian is going to stick around and make sure they don’t get their way.

Lan Wangji straightens. “Then, a room--”

“Zewu Jun already prepared one for me. He set me up in the Silent Room.” Probably because it’s farther away, Wei Wuxian thinks. He’ll cause less problems out at the Shadow Bamboo Pavilion. Not that Wei Wuxian is complaining. The moments he spent in that room were warm and comforting, even if they took place during one of the most difficult times of his life. It has nothing to do with the fact it used to be Lan Wangji's old room, or anything.

The lines around Lan Wangji’s mouth soften. This time, he allows Wei Wuxian to lead him to the bed. Wei Wuxian waits until he’s settled before speaking.

“Do you need anything?”

“No.”

Wei Wuxian clenches and unclenches his fists awkwardly, then straightens. “All right, then. Sleep well, Lan Zhan. We'll talk later."

He turns and is about to step away, when Lan Wangji’s voice stops him.

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian's heart trembles behind a tightening smile. He waits for Lan Wangji to continue, to say, 'I missed you.' 'I missed you like you missed me.' 'Stay with me.' 'Come to bed.'

“Thank you," Lan Wanji says.

Wei Wuxian wants to laugh at himself.

“Lan Wangji, you already know words like ‘thank you’ and ‘I’m sorry’ are unnecessary between us."

Something like a smile crosses Lan Wangji’s face, and he looks away. “Mm."

Wei Wuxian watches him for a moment longer, waits until Lan Wangji's eyes slip shut, and leaves. His stomach is heavy with worry and guilt. To think, this whole time he's been feeling sorry for himself because Lan Wangji hasn't come to visit. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji has been cultivating in isolation, struggling to suppress the poison in his body while still managing his duties as leader of the clans. Now that he knows the truth, Wei Wuxian feels like the biggest jerk alive. He sighs as he shuts the door, and swears a solemn vow.

He’s going to make it up to Lan Wangji. This time, he’s going to be the one doing the protecting, the one doing the aiding. And this time, he definitely, most certainly, absolutely will not cause Lan Zhan any problems.

TBC . . .

Footnotes:

1. This is basically just MXTX's "no cure" poison from SVSSS. (The cure will not necessarily be the same)

2. Xietang is a previous name for Xitang, one of the water towns in Jiashan county. (Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xitang)

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Little Mercury protege; AU Alive!Freddie Mercury x Malek!teen reader

*Author’s note*

Okay well guys I didn’t get inspired till Freddie’s birthday had passed, so I know this is late but here is a request I think should’ve been done. To the anon who gave me this request, I hope this is what you were wanting. And I hope to all of you who read this get a thrill out of this :)

Okay warnings; FLUFF. bit of angst, racial discrimination (I mean NO OFFENSE BY THIS if this makes you uncomfortable just skip ahead and don’t read the one scene in question), and just personal opinions on a certain fact of another casting choice (if you belong to team S.B.C playing Freddie, please don’t start a war with me on this okay.) 

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

@platawnic

@leah-halliwell92

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Being the daughter of Rami Malek sometimes has its perks.  I’ve been going with him to premieres, I’ve seen my dad film some of his shows, but now my dad is about to become a legend as he had just gotten the role of one of my favorite lead singers of Rock and roll.  Freddie Mercury.

For the past eight weeks my dad has been in London practicing his piano skills, because he and the rest of the actors would begin to film the first sequence which was the famous Live Aid performance. And since I had to finish up school, he wouldn’t allow me to come visit the set but now that it’s summertime, my jida (grandma) got me my plane ticket to London so that I could visit my dad on set.

After a long night flight, I finally arrived in London and as soon as I came out of the gate, there I saw my dad holding a sign that said.

“Welcome (y/n)” in full decorated lettering colored in with markers, stickers and glitter.  Dad smiled at me and said.

“There’s my girl.” I raced over to him and hugged him and he hugged me back just as tightly. “How was the rest of your school year?”

“It was fine.”

“How’d you do on your finals?” I shrugged and he said. “Oh no, no c’mon now don’t you lie to me. You know I could call your uncle Sami to tell me how you did.”

“I passed dad, got all A’s and B’s.”

“Ehh that’s my girl.” He ruffled my hair and kissed the top of my head. “Wait, are you getting taller?” I giggled and he wrapped his arm around me and guided me away from the gate to the luggage claim.

“So how’s piano lessons going dad? You up to Freddie Mercury standards?”

“Well let’s face it no one except maybe Elton John could match Freddie’s piano skills, but I’d say I’m up to it darling.” I fangirled a bit and said.

“God you can’t drop the mannerisms can you?”

“Guess even off camera I find myself doing minor Freddie things.”

“But it’s so awesome that they picked you to play Freddie, I can’t wait to see you in full getup. So are the cast friendly?”

“Yeah we’ve really bonded with each other very well. Especially the band and I. It’s like we’re the new generation of Queen.”

“Who all’s playing the rest of the band?”

“Ahh now that is a surprise.” I whined out. “Don’t pout you’ll meet them once we get to set. We’re gonna film Live Aid later today once the weather’s just right.”

“I can’t wait.”

“I know you can’t. You’ve made me watch that footage every Live Aid anniversary since you became a fan of Queen.” We arrived at baggage claim and we waited till my suitcase finally came out.  He grabbed hold of it and guided me out of the airport and the two of us hopped into a car and drove off to set.

Since this was my first time in London, you know as any tourist I had to take pictures of what I could.  The Big Ben clocktower, the London Eye, the many statues, everything and anything in between.

Finally after about a 2 and a half hour drive, we finally arrived at an abandoned lot where I could see hundreds of people running around a mock stadium.

“So this is where you guys are gonna be filming?” I asked.

“Just for Live Aid. The original stadium was torn down so our brilliant set design team found this area and built Wembley stadium from the ground up. You’ll get a better look at it once you see if from the front.” I ahhed in understandment and that’s when our car stopped and he said. “You ready to see everyone?”

“A little nervous too.”

“Don’t worry darling, everything will be alright. You trust me?” he held out his hand for me.

It was a common thing he’s done to help ease my nervousness, and yeah we did kinda steal it from Aladdin but hey it works.

“Yes.” I said as I reached out for his hand and he helped me out of the car.

“Just stay close to me and you won’t get lost among the volunteers and workers.” I held his hand and he guided me towards the stadium.  We went around it and when I finally got a good look at it, I was just in awe.

“Whoa.”

“Pretty cool huh? So does it look like Wembley stadium?”

“It’s…..it’s like we’re actually there. And you said they built it from the ground up?”

“Yeah. Did it all while the guys and I were practicing our instruments. C’mon I need to get to makeup anyways so might as well show you that during our tour.” He then guided me over away from the stadium and we went into this large van-like trailer and there I saw rows of chairs and makeup areas.

“Ahh Rami glad to see you’re back.” A voice said. When I looked up, I thought I was actually looking at Brian May back during the original live aid.  God this guy he—he’s practically Brian.

“Yep, traffic wasn’t too bad getting out of the airport.”

“So is this your daughter?” the Brian look alike asked.

“Yes. (Y/n) this is Gwilym Lee, our actor for Brian May. Gwil this is the light of my life, (Y/n).”

“It’s so good to finally meet you (y/n). Rami would not stop talking about you. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.”

“Really, well here I am. And can I just say that you look—exactly like Brian May.” Both my dad and Gwilym chuckled and he said.

“Thank you, I only hope Brian himself approves. I’m told that Queen’s gonna be coming here to watch us perform.”

“Wait—Queen’s coming here? As in all four members?”

“Yep.” Oh shit. “So I hope we all don’t screw up, that’d be the next big disaster.”

“I’m sure we’ll do fine Gwil.”

“Yeah well see you on set. Nice meeting you (y/n).” He and I shook hands with each other and then he left to probably get into wardrobe and costuming.

“Alright Rami, you’re turn.” One of the makeup artists said.  My dad sat down and he got fitted into his wig and got his makeup done.  It wasn’t until he put the teeth in and the famed mustache, that I swore it was like my father was actually Freddie Mercury and not Rami Malek.  Once he was done he turned around and said.

“Well darling what do you think?”

“You look—amazing dad.”

“Thank you, you lovely darling.” Okay now he was really getting the mannerisms done, god I love it when my dad gets committed to a role.

“Right now I need to get into my costume and then we’ll head out to punch a hole in the sky. What do you say dear?”

“Lead the way, Freddie.” I said.  He wrapped his arm around me and we were now heading to the costume trailer.  He got into the famed Live aid Freddie outfit of the white tank-top, jeans, Adidas black and white sneakers, and the diamond encrusted black armband.

Okay it’s official, I am Freddie Mercury’s daughter.

In full get up my dad had not only acted the part but also looked exactly like Freddie.

We were now heading for the stage where I saw Gwilym talking with another man who wore a should length blonde haired wig and wore the Roger Taylor white shirt and black pants.  He was twirling around some drumsticks and that’s when the two of them turned towards us.

“Wow, you look awesome Rami.” The actor playing Roger said.

“Rami? I’m only Freddie darling.” I playfully giggled and rolled my eyes at him.

“And I assume this is your daughter?” he asked again.

“Yep, that’s (y/n). (Y/n) this is Ben Hardy, he’ll be playing Roger Taylor.” Gwilym introduced us.

“It’s great to meet you at last (y/n).” the actor known as Ben held out his hand and we both shook hands.  Now I’ll admit I don’t know why they gave him the wrong wig but he did sorta resemble Roger to a degree.  I’ll just have to wait and see how he portrays Roger in the film before I make any quick assumptions.

Suddenly I was picked up by the waist and twirled around.  I shrieked and told whomever it was that was spinning me around to put me down.

“Ahh now that’s no fun. Is that anyway to treat your favorite uncle?” Oh my god it—it couldn’t be? I quickly turned around to see a big ball of fluffy brown hair but I knew those eyes and that sunshine smile anywhere.

“Uncle Joey!” I exclaimed as I turned and hugged him. He laughed and embraced me in those big arms of his giving me a big bear hug.  He laughed as he spun me around and pressed a big kiss to my cheek.

See I had known the famed child actor Joe Mazzello since I was 5 years old.  Just shortly after my dad had gotten a role in the HBO series ‘The Pacific’, my mom got into a car accident by a drunk driver and was killed before she even got to the hospital.

I was devastated as was my dad.  Since my uncle Sami was too busy to take care of me at the time and figuring out that I needed my father now more than ever, my grandma and auntie sent me to be with my dad.  

I was so quiet and barely spoke a word, all I did was just sit far away and cry.  It was then I had met Joe, he said he hated seeing kids cry so he tried to make me smile by telling me some jokes of showing me funny cat videos.  Amazingly it did make me feel a bit better, at least got me to smile since the accident happened.

As my dad and Joe became closer with each other and soon became best friends, I got to call Joe Mazzello my uncle Joey. And since we were all in New York, anytime my dad had to go away to film something, nine times out of ten Joe was the one to babysit me until my dad got back.  

Fun little fact, he’s the one who introduced me to Queen during filming of “The Pacific”.  He set me back down and I exclaimed.

“You’re in the film too?!”

“Of course, I thought your dad told you.” I turned to my dad and he briefly broke character as he said.

“I wanted to surprise you. Figured it’d be nice to know that I wasn’t the only one you’d know in this film.”

“So you’re playing John Deacon?”

“Yep, I can’t believe I even made the cut myself, I was stressing out like you wouldn’t believe it. And all they wanted was to hear my accent.”

“God I just gotta say, like Gwilym you—look exactly like John Deacon.”

“I know, so much so that I just had to ask my mom what she was doing in 1983, whether or not she was in London or anything.” I chuckled and hugged him as I said.

“Ahh I’ve missed your dorkiness uncle Joey.”

“Hey it’s not dorkiness, it’s coolness that people wish they could have.” He said as he gave me a playful noogie. “So tell me what’s been up with you in the last two years since I’ve seen you?”

“Well I’m about to go into high school.”

“Get out of town!” he teased.

“No seriously.”

“Oh my god where has the time gone? When I first met you, you were in the middle of kindergarten and now you’re going into big bad high school. Why couldn’t you just stay that adorable little girl that used to hang around my waist and that I could cradle in my arms?” he leaned his forehead against mine and gave me a gentle and loving peck on my nose.

“Sorry uncle Joey, I had to grow up.”

“Noo! I’m Peter Pan and I forbid you from growing up anymore!”

“Alright you big softie layoff her.” Ben said.

“Shut it Benjamin!”

“Okay guys, they’re pulling in now to see the performance. Get into positions.” At this point all four men including my dad were really starting to feel the nerves.

“Who votes for hiding at this point?” asked uncle Joey. All three of them raised their hands and soon we all took off running.

I don’t know how it happened, maybe with a sharp turn or maybe my grip slipped from my uncle Joey’s hand but as we went to hide from the arrival of the band in question, I ended up separated from my dad and his friends.

And since the set was so big, I didn’t know where they could’ve gone.  I kept trying to go down a hallway but it only lead me further and further down more corridors and hallways.  God the production team wasn’t fooling around when they got every single detail down.

That’s when I bump into someone.  I was taken back as I quickly apologized but when I finally looked up to see just who it was that I bumped into, that’s when I just felt the deer in headlights freeze come over me.

For standing there before me was the legend and my number one idol in music, Freddie Mercury.  He may have looked much older than he used to back in the day long before my time, his once raven black hair now greying like snow on the road but he still held that famed spark of a true showman even at the age of 70.

“Well hello there darling. A young newbie groupie welcoming committee.” He said with that famed smile of his.  He gently ruffled my hair which made me blush but I couldn’t help but smile.  But it wasn’t until I noticed that he was also referring to my Queen t-shirt that uncle Joey got me as a birthday present last year and I wrapped my arms around the pictured embarrassed.

“Now, now there’s no need to be ashamed love. It just means you’ve got good taste.” Roger spoke up.

“Alright you two no need to embarrass the girl further.” Deacy said.  It was then Brian stepped up and asked me.

“What’s your name love?” Oh my god Brian May just called me love.  Though I’ll never admit it, when I was little I did have a bit of a crush viewing some of Brian’s old videos.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) Malek.” I said shyly.

“Malek? You don’t mean like the same Malek dear that’s playing me would it?” I nodded and he said, “Oh that’s perfect. Have you any idea where your father is (y/n) dear?” I shrugged.

“I—I sorta lost them I guess.”

“They wouldn’t happen to be hiding from us would they?” asked Roger.  I shrugged and remained silent.

“Well I think we’ve got the perfect leverage to get them out, wouldn’t you agree lads?” Deacy said.  Oh I did not like where this was going.

I was then guided by the four senior band members up onto the actual stage where I saw crew members running about and extras getting their markers on where each person should stand.

“So we came across this lovely young lady while getting the layout backstage, and I know she was in proximity to the young actors portraying us.” Freddie exclaimed loud enough so that the people on stage could hear.

“And we did come such a long way it’d be a shame to not see the young men in full shtick after taking such time off our hands.” Brian said.

“So if you young boys would kindly come out we’d greatly appreciate it.” Answered Deacy.

“If not then we’ll just keep the girl hostage until you lot decide to come out.” Roger playfully threatened.

“NO DON’T TAKE HER!! SHE’S JUST A CHILD TAKE ME INSTEAD!!” I heard my uncle Joey proclaim.  It was then coming out from behind the flaps of the stage, were my dad, uncle Joey and Gwilym and Ben.

“Ahh so there they are. Knew using this lovely darling would get you four to come out of hiding.” Freddie teased which caused all the guys to blush or look away.

The four legends of Rock and roll then walked up towards their counterparts and studied them carefully.  Brian looked like he had went through a time relapse as he stared at Gwilym Lee.

“Bloody hell it’s like looking at me former self, but….” He then began adjusting the hairline of the curls slightly as he said, “The curls actually go this way.” I softly giggled and that’s when I noticed John Deacon stand before my uncle.

“Not bad, I must say you—you definitely resemble me to a T.”

“Believe me Mr. John Deacon sir I—I couldn’t even believe it myself, but the second the wig came on it was—mind blowing.” John smiled and said.

“It’s almost like in a way you’re a long lost child of mine.” Right? Roger was looking at Ben and he even agreed there were some critics but he knew it wasn’t Ben’s fault, mostly blame hair and makeup but Roger did give his sign of approval.  But when he said he couldn’t wait to hear Ben play the drums, that’s when I noticed Ben went a bit pale.

And now the moment of truth was when I turned towards my dad to see Freddie circling around him like a lion circling its prey.

“A bit skinner than I was, different eye color but hell I always wanted to have blue eyes. But like Brian and Deacy they chose the right one. At least you’re a lot better than that previous actor they tried to get to play me. God what an arsehole.”

“It’s an honor Freddie Mercury, I know I wasn’t the best choice but—”

“Oh don’t be so humble Rami darling. You already look the part, now I look forward to seeing you act the part. Cause of course no one is as outrageous as me.”

“Alright lads. We’re all set up. We’re ready to film the entire Live Aid sequence from start to finish.” Dexter came up with his cup of coffee.

“Go kill em boys.” Brian wished them all good luck. Dad came up to me and he gave me a hug and a kiss.

“Ready to see Live Aid?”

“I’ve been waiting nine years to see this dad. You guys are gonna kill it out there.” The guys went behind the flaps for their cue to rush on out, but then just before I could step aside in the wings to watch that’s when Freddie said to me.

“Hold on darling, come down and watch it with us. You’ll get a much better angle than from the stage.”

“Ohh I couldn’t impose on you four I—”

“Nonsense love, c’mon I know your dad would want to see you clearly as he performs.” Roger insisted.  Okay who was I to deny them? I then walked down the steps with them and we watched at the lower level of the stage as everyone was getting into their final places.

“Alright guys full run through. No stopping. Extras cue your cheering!” The crowd began to cheer. “Sound! Roll camera. And……action!” Soon my dad and the rest of the band came running out on stage causing the cheering to go louder.  I even cheered along as I took out my phone and couldn’t help but take a few pictures of my dad, uncle and their new friends in full getup.

Then the run through began.  Even with the actual audio from Live Aid rolling since my dad couldn’t sing a tune, it was still amazing to see him actually playing the piano of Bohemian Rhapsody and uncle Joey playing the bass.

I briefly turned to look at the four rock gods and they all looked amazed, it was like they had jumped back in time to see their greatest performance for themselves.  Brian especially couldn’t believe his eyes and same thing with Freddie.

As promised by Dexter it was the full run through of Live Aid.  Once Radio Gaga came on, I couldn’t help but participate in the claps, and I noticed that not only the extras but some of the crew members who were behind the stage or even behind the camera were participating.

The Aye-oh’s, Hammer to fall, Crazy little thing called love, We will rock you, and We are the champions.  And just seeing my dad up there becoming Freddie Mercury, it was unbelievable.  

The dedication he had put in to becoming this legend whom I have always looked up to throughout my whole life.

By the end of the run through, I was cheering so loudly that if I were to turn around along with them applauding for a well performed first take, Queen was smiling at me seeing my excitement and pure joy.

When the guys walked backstage, I immediately raced over once Dexter called cut to find my dad.  Once I spotted him I immediately raced over to him and glomped him in a hug.

“That was amazing daddy! You guys slayed it!”

“Thank you baby girl.”

“You were amazing up there.”

“Well that’s because I knew you were watching.” I giggled and hugged him again.

“Ohh I see go hug your dad but no love for your uncle.” Joe teased.

“Ohh uncle Joey.”

“No, no, no I see how it is. I’ll just continue to go through the film being neglected from my favorite snuggle-cuddle bunny.” He said as he crossed his arms over his chest, turning his back on me.

“Snuggle-cuddle bunny?” Ben and Gwilym gaped.

“Yeah see when she was just five during our filming of the Pacific whenever she got too tired, she’d always cuddle up close to me. And since she always had this pink bunny wherever she went I dubbed her snuggle-cuddle bunny.” I blushed embarrassedly.

“I will cling onto you for the rest of the time I’m here if you take that back.” I pleaded.

“Not a chance kidda-roo.” He pulled me into his arm and playfully gave me a noogie.

“Well done boys, that was phenomenal.” We turned around to see all four members of Queen standing before us.

“They definitely chose the right boys for the job. I can’t wait to see what else we’ve got planned here.” Roger said.

“Seeing that performance brought me back to the real Live Aid concert. Well done lads.” Said John with a warm smile.

“You four lovely darlings. It’s like you four were born for the stage, just like all of us. Work your magic just right and you could be the next generation of Queen. You look the part and now you sound the part. Especially you Rami you beautiful darling.” Freddie then walked up to my dad and gave him two kisses, one on each cheek.

From then on the filming commenced with the final approval of Queen seeing my dad and the rest of the cast in full shtick.

As the weeks went on and they were starting to film the Rockfield farm scenes, I was in the building since everyone was on a break before filming would begin.  I sat down by the piano and lightly stroked the keys.

I then raised my hands and I played the first Queen song I had ever learned “Somebody to love”.  I did a bit of vocalizing before finally singing the song.

Each morning I get up I die a little Can barely stand on my feet Take a look in the mirror and cry Lord, what you're doing to me I’ve spent all my years in believing you But I just can't get no relief, Lord! Somebody (somebody) somebody (somebody) Can anybody find me somebody to love?

“I know you’ve got more soul than that darling.” I ceased my playing to see Freddie standing behind me. He walked over and sat on the piano bench beside me and continued, “Don’t hold back, let it out.” He then picked the song back up and stared at me nodding for me to go on.

I went straight to the bridge where I would usually give the song as much soul as I could.

Got no feel, I got no rhythm I just keep losing my beat I'm OK, I'm alright I ain't gonna face no defeat I just gotta get out of this prison cell One day I'm gonna be free, Lord!

Somebody (somebody) somebody (somebody) Can anybody find me somebody to love?

I guess my nerves made me repeat the last couple lines that really belonged in the first and second verse, but as Freddie nodded along to the song, he looked like a proud teacher watching his student succeed, especially when I made that key change on the ‘love’.

And what was even more amazing; was when Freddie actually joined in singing my favorite Queen song with me.  He first played off of my at the beginning but by around the middle, the two of us blended out voices together in perfect sync, while at the same time the two of us were playing the piano.

(She works hard) Everyday (everyday)

I try and I try and I try But everybody wants to put me down They say I'm going crazy They say I got a lot of water in my brain Ah, got no common sense I got nobody left to believe in Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

As he continued playing the piano I quickly grabbed the first guitar I could and began playing Brian’s solo.  Not only was I good with the piano, I was also fairly decent with the guitar.  I mean I can only play a few songs on guitar but Somebody to love, I could practically play every instrument cause I can just hear the tune in my head.

We then sang the repeated mantra and just to add a little spice I began to vocalize. Going up and sliding perfectly down or going from a low to a high rang. By the end of it, I took over the last two lines.

Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love

Can anybody find me….

*Me*

Somebody to……

Love.

*Both*

Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love

By the end of our playing, all I heard was the sound of an applause.  There standing behind us were some of the crew, the producer Graham, Dexter the director, Brian, Deacy, Roger, my dad and the rest of the cast.

Freddie stood up and gestured towards me and the applause seemed to get louder.  I even heard some whistles that you could only hear at a rock concert.  

That’s when my dad came over to me and embraced me as tight as he could and peppered kisses all over my face, repeatedly telling me he was so proud of me.

Later on that day I was out on the deck sitting on the stoop of the house.

“I was wondering where you had gone off to since our duet. Figured you’d want to be basking in the praises.” I smiled and said.

“I don’t want to get a big head full of ego. I deal with that at school already from those who think they’re richer than me.”

“I understand that well darling. Little children can be bastards can’t they?” I hummed in agreement.  “You really do have an amazing gift (y/n). Why don’t you share it with those who don’t know you?” I looked down solemnly.

“Well Freddie…..how can one share their gift when they look like me?”

“What the fuck are you talking about dear? All I see in front of me is a blossoming young woman who is not only beautiful but talented as well.”

“It’s not about beauty Fred, I know I’m beautiful it’s just….I’m the wrong skin color.” He paused and just stared at me, urging me to go on.  “I—I did try to perform once at my 6th grade talent show. But just before I could play I heard one boy cry out ‘why’s the terrorist playing the piano? I thought they played bombs?’ It…..it was just after the suspected suicide bomber tried to sneak into the New York subway but was detained and stopped. I couldn’t even perform after hearing that. Took me a whole weeks before I had the courage to go back to school.”

I sniffled and tried not to cry in front of the frontman of Queen.  But I felt him rub my back as I continued.

“If middle school was that bad, I can only imagine just how worse high school’s gonna be. My dad was mistreated and bullied during his school year. So that means I will be too, and not just physically but online too possible.” I felt a few tears fall from my face, until a finger wiped them away.

“My darling (y/n). If there’s anything you should listen to me on, it’s this. People can be utter little shits. Some people still stick with the ancient ways of thinking, that if you’re not their skin color then you aren’t worth their time. Believe me, I’ve had racial slurs being shouted at me, both on and off stage. What you can do, is look them in the eye and say fuck you. Because I know who I am. And I don’t let anyone define who I am as a person. Because people who talk down to you like that, have got no future ahead of them. You on the other hand my dear, I could see you getting a gold disk by the time you’re 19 with that voice of yours. Hell you’ll surpass both Elton and I with the way you play the piano.”

“Well I don’t know about that.”

“Of course you will. If Sharon heard you, she’d be begging on her hands and knees to let you perform alongside them.” I looked at him confused.  “Oh that’s our drag queen alter egos to each other. I’m Melina and Elton’s Sharon.” I ahhed in understandment.  “So darling, you can either do two things; One you can take those comments and let them control your life. Or like your father step out there and show the world just who (Y/n) Malek really is. From how your father’s been portraying me in this film, I have no doubt that that lovely darling is going to win so many awards, including the famed Oscar. And soon enough little girls that are Arabic and Egyptian will look up to you and say when you win your first Grammy ‘is she could do it, so could I’.” I smiled at him and said.

“You really think so?”

“I know so darling. I believe you’re going to go far in the music industry one day. Or whatever you choose in life, it don’t have to be music if you don’t want it to be. But if you are ever interested, when you’re a little older the lads and I would love to have you as an opening act for our tours.”

“Wow that’s—it would be an honor Freddie.”

“You deserve it you lovely darling.” He said as he gingerly ruffled my hair.  “Now (y/n) I have to ask you because every fan has expressed this especially through a website called Tumblr.”

“You know Tumblr?”

“Still trying to get a grasp of it, mostly I just look at it for the cat pictures to see if I could get in contact with some good photographers for my lovely children back home.” He fully turned towards me and continued, “Of course you can choose not to answer it. Though I feel like if you don’t answer it though, it’ll only prolong…..”

“What is it Fred?” I laughed out.

“Who amongst us four aging Queens do you favor most?”

“Trying to make me be the bad guy.” I mocked.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well that’s what that question means.”

“No I—just wanted to know if you have a preference.”

“So that you can get a bigger ego if it’s you?”

“So it’s me?”

“No Freddie. You maybe my idol but that doesn’t automatically mean you take the number one spot.”

“So not one of us has that special place in that golden heart of yours?” I lightly scoffed and said.

“Well…..”

“Ah-ha I knew it! So c’mon just tell me. Think of my as one of your little girl friends gossiping in gym class, I won’t squeal I promise.” I groaned as I buried my head into my lap.

He wasn’t gonna let this go, I can feel it. But if I didn’t I knew he’d just keep pestering and pestering until I finally cracked.  I then softly muttered the name of my favorite Queen member.

“Huh?”

“Brian.” I muttered slightly louder.

“I’m sorry love you’re gonna have to speak up. Me old ears aren’t what they used to be.” I smelt bullshit on that statement.

“Brian, okay it’s Brian.” I said to him.  Freddie grinned and said.

“I sorta had a feeling. You always seem a bit more shyer than Deacy whenever our smart animal loving, spaceman guitarist is around.”

“Just promise me you won’t say anything to him!” I pleaded.

“No worries darling, my lips are sealed.” I sighed with relief. “Now how’s about I teach you how to play Bohemian rhapsody? Your uncle Joe told me of how you once tried to play it but couldn’t get the keys right.” He stood up and held his hand out to me.

I took it and he lead me towards the other side house where my dad would be playing the song in question for a brief moment in the film.

I’ll say that never did I imagine that I would get an actual piano lesson from the Queen legend himself.  But here I am at the piano with Freddie Mercury sitting beside me teaching me how to play his famed song, the baby that changed the way music was ever made forever.

However little did I know of the ultimate embarrassment that I would have within the next couple of days.  Right now everyone was filming the guitar solo recording as well as the operatic session of Bohemian Rhapsody.

But what was fun was that we actually got the real Brian May to step in while uncle Gwil stepped aside and we allowed Brian to play his guitar solo in the song, just for the fun of it.

I was in awe as I leaned against the arm of my chair and just let Brian’s red special take me away on a flight across the galaxy.  When the solo ended, uncle Gwil stepped back into the shot and I heard my dad say as Freddie.

“That’s brilliant. I love that.”

“So now what?” asked Gwil as Brian.  My dad took a beat before saying,

“The operatic session.” Both uncle Gwil and Brian May nodded as I could hear Gwil say.

“Ahh the operatic session. Good.”

“Of course.” Brian spoke in the same tone as Gwilym did.

Oh god it was so uncanny of how similar these two were at this point.  They definitely chose the right actor to play my favorite Queen member.

When break time came around and I was getting a snack from the snack table and drinking some water.  I soon heard a voice say.

“Hello (y/n).” I choked briefly on my water as I turned to see Brian standing there. “Sorry love I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay. Just went down the wrong pipe is all. I’m-I’m-I’m-I’m good. What—what are you I mean….” Oh god why am I so starstruck right now in front of him.  You’re making a fool of yourself (y/n)!

“It’s okay (y/n). There’s no need to be shy around me. Beyond the titles and glamour I’m just like every other man my age.” Yeah except the fact that you’re not only a rock god but a brilliant astrophysicist as well as animal organizer.

That’s one of the main reasons why I had followed his Instagram because I loved getting the updates on all the animals he posts up and interacts with.

“So what do you think of the film so far?” he asked me as he took a seat beside me on the empty chair.

“It’s amazing. I mean I’ve been to sets before with my dad like the Mr. Robot, the Pacific where I met uncle Joey over there, but this—this is unlike anything I’ve seen. And just the fact that you guys are allowing young fans like me to see your story from the beginning.”

“Yeah we were on the fence about but we knew that if we all didn’t get involved with the project then it wouldn’t get done right.”

“I’m glad you guys get to come visit whenever you’re not busy doing your concerts.” I shyly admitted.

“Well thank you (y/n), that’s very sweet of you to say.” I lightly blushed and twirled my water bottle around letting the water spin around.  “You know funny thing Fred told me the other day. He said he had talked to you and asked you about who your favorite Queen member was.”

Oh fuck no.

“FREDDIE!!” I screamed as loudly as I could.  It was the both my dad and the real Freddie peeked out from behind the booth saying.

“Yes?”

“I mean the real Freddie dad! Why did you tell him!? You swore you wouldn’t!?”

“Word of the wise darling, never trust me with a juicy secret. Especially when it regards to secret crushes or fancies.” I groaned and felt my face glow red in embarrassment.

“Aww (y/n) look at you, you’re like a little pouty tomato.” Uncle Joey teased in his John Deacon get up.  I turned away and hid my face as the guys all continued to awe at me.  It was then I was brought into a big but gentle bear hug from Brian himself as he said.

“No need to be embarrassed love. I’m flattered.”

“Okay that’s it, this calls for a photo it’s too damn adorable.” Uncle Joey proclaimed.

“Took the words right out of my mouth, Joe.” My dad said.  I was humiliated! Soon enough pretty much everyone of the guys needed a picture of this but that’s when Ben said.

“Wait! I’ve got a better idea. Gwil get in there.”

“Ooo good thinking Benjamin, what’s better than one Brian May?” uncle Joey awed.

“Two Brian Mays!” they both exclaimed.

“I hate you guys!” I whined out.

“Now, now mind your uncles (y/n) they mean well.” Brian said to me.

“Besides, we’re always happy to indulge our number one fan.” Gwil spoke as Brian.

“Great minds think alike.” Praised Brian.  Soon I had uncle Gwil to my left and the real Brian May to my right.  Each of them had their arms wrapped around me and leaned down against me as everyone took out their phones.

Suddenly I felt both of them kiss each side of my cheeks and that’s when my heart really sped up and I felt like I was gonna explode. But of course everyone just awed at how adorable I was.

“Oh my god (n/n) you look so freakin adorable. This is so going on my Instagram.” Uncle Joey said.

“Post that pic and you’re dead Mazzello!” I threatened.  I then chased after him and he took off running. “Give me that phone! You’re dead Mazzello!”

“Jesus someone get this raptor off of me!” I managed to hop onto his back and reach for his phone but he kept drifting left or right trying to avoid my reach as his arm extended as far as he would allow it.

As the summer began to draw to a close, unfortunately I couldn’t stay in England anymore because I was about to go back to school in just four weeks.  

So a week just before open house started, I had gotten my ticket and was ready to take the non-stop flight from London back to New York.

My dad, uncle Joey and newly deemed uncle Gwil and uncle Ben as well as Lucy, my dad’s new girlfriend came to bid me a final farewell till the award seasons would begin come around Winter break.  I was currently hugging uncle Gwil as he said to me.

“Hope to see you for the award shows love. Good luck in high school.”

“Thanks uncle Gwil.” I then turned to uncle Ben and he said.

“You know you don’t need an invitation, come here.” I giggled and he wrapped me up in his strong arms. “Have a safe flight back to the states love.”

“I will uncle Ben. Send me more videos of your drumming, maybe one with you and Rog together.”

“We’ll try and arrange it.” He gave me a kiss on the top of my head and that’s when uncle Joey said.

“I don’t know whether to feel squishy or be jealous.” We both laughed and I said.

“Don’t worry uncle Joey. You’ll always be my favorite uncle.”

“Oh no I was actually referring to Ben.” I faked a gasp and punched him in the arm making him cry out. “I’m kidding squirt! God you’ve got a strong arm, when did you get so strong?” I rolled my eyes at him and hugged him.

“Bye uncle Joey.”

“See yah soon kiddo. I expect a call every single night and a facetime after your first day of high school. I don’t care what time it’ll be, I will freakin answer it and have these three with me to chat with you about your first day.”

“I’ll call and text you, don’t worry.”

“You better.” He bopped my nose before giving me a long, wet kiss right on my cheek.  I groaned and whined out as I wiped away the access spit while he just looked at me all innocently.  I then turned to my dad and Lucy.

“Take care of my dad while I’m gone.” I said to Lucy.

“Don’t worry I’ll make sure he doesn’t work himself too hard. It was great to finally meet you (y/n), and thank you for your approval of us.”

“You’ve made my dad happier than I’ve seen him since mom. It’s…..just like Freddie and Mary were, you are the love of his life. And I can see that.” She smiled and the two of us hugged each other before I turned to my dad.  He brought me into his arms and he said.

“Be sure to text me as soon as you land okay?”

“I will I promise. Thanks for letting me stay the summer dad. I know you’re gonna do great come award season.”

“All I care about is that you’re proud of me and that you’re happy about the project.”

“I am.” He cupped each side of my face and kissed the center of my forehead.

“Last call for flight 5487621 nonstop to New York City.” We heard over the intercom.  I grabbed my bag and bid my family a final farewell and they waved goodbye to me as I handed the gate keeper my ticket and boarding pass.  

He accepted it and allowed me to walk in with the flight attendant who would keep an eye on me throughout the flight since I was an unaccompanied minor.

She lead me to my seat and helped put my luggage up along the ceiling console.

“If you need anything else, just ask for the name Tabitha.”

“Thank you Tabitha.” I thanked her and she smiled as she walked off.  I then went into my purse to take out my phone to turn it off but before I did, I noticed a group chat with four numbers I didn’t recognize.  I unlocked my phone using my passcode and opened up my messages to see the following.

Hello (y/n), this is John Deacon. I hope you have a safe flight. It was wonderful to getting to know you, and you have so much talent to give to the world. Good luck with your final young years of school before you move on to university. I know you’ll soon go far in life if you stay as you are.

And….Always be happy 😊

I smiled as I read the next message under that.

Hey lovie,

It was so great to meet you, you’re sweet, loving, and have an ear for talent. Thank you for being a fan of ours and for always supporting us.  You’re an amazing kid (sometimes I wish my own were like you at your age hehehe) anyways thank you for coming to visit us and see the filming. You made our days brighter whenever you were on set. Good luck with high school and crush all those bastards who think you can’t make it. I’ve got a solo single coming out soon and you shall receive the first copy signed by yours truly.

Rock hard and….havealovely flight, bye 😉 Roger Taylor

He even gave me the drum emoji and I couldn’t help but smile as his final farewell sounded like the old fan club message they gave in 1991.  I scrolled down again and I saw the next message.

Hello (y/n)

I hope you have a safe flight back to the US and that you enjoyed seeing London for the first time.  It was great to meet you and as the previous two have said, you are talented.  I know eventually you’ll make it big in whatever you do.

Also thanks for the lovely support you’ve helped given to some of my animal organizations, I greatly appreciate it. You are a kind soul and I know that you’ll grow up to be an even kinder young woman. Lots of love from me and safe journeys home my number 1 fan.

-Bri.

I blushed.  God I still can’t believe Fred tattled on me about my secret girl crush on Brian.  That was going to loom over me for the rest of my life, especially since he had sent a copy of the picture of him, Gwil and me with that double cheek kiss and my ugly shocked face.  Then finally I read the last message who I already had an idea by now of who it was from.

My little protégé *sparkles emoji*

I had a wonderful time of not only getting to know your lovely father, but his radiant daughter as well.  You Maleks are gonna go far in life. Thank you for gifting us with your sunshine aurora and bubbly personality.

If you keep believing in yourself and face each day with courage and pride about who you are, you’re gonna slay them all and even break some hearts along the way. (And if any break yours first, you just let me know and I’ll sort it out darling)

Have a lovely trip back home and I hope you come to see us at our next concert in Madison Square Garden after all this award seasonal shit is done.

Keep smiling and lots of love and hugs

Freddie Fucking Mercury *heart eyes, kisses emojis*

I smiled and held my phone close to my heart.

“Excuse me Ms. Malek, we’re about to start taking off, may I please ask you to turn off your phone.” I nodded but not before quickly making a screenshot of the messages from each of the band members and saving it to my phone.

Separately labeling it as POSITIVE FEEDBACK.  I then turned off my phone and prepared for a long flight back to the states to meet with uncle Sami since the high school I was going to was the one he teaches at.

As we took off into the air I kept thinking to myself of all the great memories I had with my family and couldn’t believe that even meeting the band that I have loved for almost ten years now.  They treated me like I was part of the cast family.

And I will take that with me to my grave.

*Extended ending*

“And the winner is…..Rami Malek!” I cheered as loudly as I could as tears of happiness came running down my face. Sitting with my uncles Joe, Gwil and Ben as well as other cast and crew members of the film we all stood up and cheered as Allison Janey and Gary Oldman presented my dad with the Oscar for Best Actor for Bohemian Rhapsody.

I hugged my uncle Joey as he lifted me off the ground and I kissed his cheek and he peppered kisses all over me.  Uncle Gwil wrapped me in his arms and uncle Ben hugged me from behind and kissed the back of my head as we all tried to calm down so we could hear my dad’s speech.

God he deserved this. Golden globe, Emmy, BAFTA, SAG, AACTA and now Oscar winner.  Not only was this is first Oscar nomination and award, but he would forever be known as the first ever Arabic actor to win an Academy award.

“And one final shout out to a very special young lady who is out there somewhere with the rest of my cast. This award also goes out to my beautiful daughter who is now starting to figure out her own identity as she marches towards the final steps of life. This award goes out to her, to show her that if I can do it, then so can she. I love you my baby girl, thank you for believing in me. For being my number one fan forever and always. And I love you 3000 my heart.” He blew a kiss towards the camera and I couldn’t help but cry.

I felt uncle Joey wrap his arm around me as he rubbed my arm up and down, leaning his head against mine placing a kiss on top of it.

“I love you 3000 too baba.”

At the afterparty when my dad came in after doing some interviews, we all cheered and the first one to glomp him in a hug was uncle Joey.  They patted each other’s backs in a brotherly manner before Gwil and Ben stepped in and the four of them group hugged with each other.

“Where is she?” asked my dad.

“I’m here baba.” I said.  He smiled widely and came over to me and immediately hugged me.

“You did it dad, you’re a champion.”

“No lovebug, we are the champions.” I smiled and buried my face into his neck as he placed his hand behind my head and he just held onto me.

Being the daughter of Rami Malek would soon change my life after the Oscars.  Now that everyone knew my dad’s name, he was going to go on to do bigger and bigger things. Like just recently he’s been named the James Bond villain.  And now his famed show Mr. Robot is coming to an end.

But even through the bigger fame to his name, he still remained as humble as ever and still managed to make time for me as I continued on throughout my high school years.  

And when the time came for me to graduate I saw all my uncles, my dad, auntie, grandma, on Instagram live (curtest of uncle Joey) I knew Queen was watching from all the way across the sea, and my new stepmom Lucy all cheering for me as I was given my diploma.

Yeah, life was good.  And I sure as hell had a pretty cool dad to be there for me whenever I need him.

[foxtophat]

just so you know this chapter is almost 10k words

SO HEY THERE BUDDY how are you? it’s been a while, huh?  i thought for sure i had this chapter well in hand and then all at once i didn’t, now i’m a week behind my usual posting schedule and all i have to offer you is this fucking MONSTER

i don’t wanna get too into it because it’s pretty straight-forward, but let’s just say that nick and kim have a host of problems in this one bro. good thing that jerome is a guy who likes to be righteously better than everyone else right???

i had a lot of fun writing this despite how much trouble it was. the next chapter is gonna be more fun, with maybe even some alcohol and dare i even suggest it dancing??? perhaps... a good time???? highly unlikely in this day and age

well anyway, don’t wanna keep you any longer. thank you guys so much for reading my incoherent author’s notes and being so chill about this dumb self-indulgent fic of mine. i appreciate every comment, like, reblog, kudos or warm thought thrown my way, so don’t hesitate to lay it on me!!

as usual, the text is under the read-more. keep in mind that this chapter is very long so it might be better to read on ao3, but who am i to boss you around?

Pastor Jerome radios the Rye family late one night, so late that Nick had been just about to turn off the receiver when his voice comes down the line. Exhaustion has left a permanent mark on everybody, and Nick doesn't miss it in Jerome as they connect over the airwaves.

"A caravan is going to be passing through the valley tomorrow," he says grimly, with no preamble. "People heading west. There was talk of stopping by your home."

"What?" Nick asks. "Why?"

"People still look to your family for guidance, Nick. I imagine they want to say goodbye before they leave. Others are looking to trade, or just to reach out. It's been a long time. I suppose they'd want to leave on a positive note."

A year ago, Nick would have been excited for the company. Knowing a bunch of friendly settlers were coming around to say hello and help out before heading off on their own would have saved him plenty of pain and trouble in the past. But these days, other people coming around can be... complicated, and for reasons that Nick has trouble explaining even to himself.

That's probably the reason Jerome decided to reach out so late. They only got to talk briefly about it in town, since there were too many people to overhear them and honestly, Jerome hadn't seemed keen on having a conversation about John Seed almost a decade after the fact. But they had talked, enough that Jerome has trusted Nick to do what's best without interference until now.

"What do you think I should do?" Nick asks, sure that Jerome will know what he's talking about.

There's a lot of hissing and popping on the line before Jerome responds. "I don't know," he says. It sounds like an apology. "I can't imagine being in the position you're in."

Nick scrubs at his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He clicks the button to let Jerome know he's still there, but it takes a moment to come up with something to say.

"Do I know anyone coming through?" he asks at last.

"You will," Jerome replies. "If not by name, then by face. Hurk and Sharky have offered to escort them part-way. There are some resistance members who want to leave. A few who look like they might've gotten through baptism before the end."

Nick clicks his tongue against his teeth. That's what he was worried about. A couple of survivors who have let eight years rot their hatred would be okay. Hurk and Sharky aren't even that threatening, lawless raider shit aside. But former cultists are going to clock John immediately, and there's no clean way to explain that it isn't the Ryes who betrayed them, but actually John, who's abandoned the very principles that led him to cause so much suffering. Nick's almost okay with the guy, and even he occasionally feels a twinge of fury when he catches sight of the huge scar over his heart.

"Are you sure you know what doing?" Jerome asks. " Really sure?"

Nick chuckles. "Hell, Jerome, I've never known what I'm doing. But, uh... yeah. More than I was when we talked, anyway."

"Even with Joseph's reappearance?"

"Weirdly enough, especially 'cos of that. I know I'm askin' a lot of you, but you gotta trust me."

There's no chance that Jerome really means it when he says, "I do trust you, Nick," but at least he's committed to the lie. "If I can, I'll join them. Try to help keep the peace, when the time comes."

"If the time comes."

Jerome sounds disappointed. "You said you weren't hiding him."

"And we aren't!"

"You can't honestly expect everyone to take the news well."

"A man can hope, can't he?"

"That's about all he can do," Jerome replies. "I'll pray for you, Nick."

"Gee," Nick sighs, "Thanks. See you tomorrow, hopefully."

Nick turns off the radio. He stretches his arms out, as if maybe relieving his sore back will make him feel less tense and anxious about Jerome's news. Of course, it doesn't really help; there's still a caravan passing through tomorrow, and there's going to be some kind of reckoning when it shows up. Nick doesn't know what kind of fallout is going to come from it, but he knows well enough not to hope for the easiest outcome.

Carmina is already asleep when Nick comes up, sprawled out on the edge of the bed. It's not gonna be long now before she starts kicking them through the night, and then they're going to have to figure out a new sleeping arrangement, but Carmina seems as uninterested in changing things as Nick is.

"Just got off the radio with Jerome," Nick tells Kim, keeping his voice low and level so as not to alert Carmina. "Wanted to tell us about a caravan passing by tomorrow."

Kim frowns. "Oh," she says uneasily. "Have you told John?"

"Nah. Gonna wait until the morning. Don't want him trying to bolt in the night."

Even though neither of them think John is going to try to run away, Kim still nods in agreement. "What are we going to do?" she asks instead. It's funny, because he'd been about to ask her the same thing.

"Hell if I know," Nick sighs. He climbs into bed at last, Kim moving over to take the center of the mattress. "But I'll come up with something."

Nick doesn't come up with anything all night. By the time morning rolls around, he's had more ideas than sleep and none of them are anywhere near perfect. They all come down to deciding whether or not John should face the parade of people about to come to their door or not, and he is evenly split on the matter. After all, it could be fine; there could be some yelling and some drama; or there could be a full-on fire-fight. There's a not-outside chance that someone might shoot John before they have a chance to explain themselves. There's a chance that they might shoot Nick, too, for harboring him this whole time.

He knocks on John's door right around sunrise, waiting long enough that he almost knocks again before John grunts something incoherent from the other side of the door. He looks like Nick just woke him out of a relatively good dream, too, which is particularly bad luck. Well, John wanted to pay some kind of penance for his bullshit, right? Might as well start now.

"Sorry," Nick says, even though he's only sort of apologetic. "We, uh... have a problem."

"Oh, good," John groans, sitting up and putting his feet on the floor. "Just the sort of thing I like to hear."

Normally, Nick would be glad for a distracting snappy argument over John's attitude, but he doesn't know exactly how much time they're going to have to get ready and Nick doesn't know if anyone's going to radio him ahead of time. John being a catty dick first thing in the morning is the least of Nick's problems right now.

"Look, Jerome radioed in last night. A caravan's gonna pass by on their way out of Hope County."

John's bleary irritation evaporates at the words. "Oh," he says.

"Yeah, oh . You still wanna get back to your beauty sleep?"

"What am I going to do?" John exclaims, lurching halfway to his feet before thinking better of it and sitting back down. He looks up at Nick, who isn't prepared to feel like the only responsible adult in the room, and asks helplessly, "What should I do?"

For once, John's stressed-induced obedience seems reasonable, trying to show restraint instead of hoping for Nick to feed him instructions like some kind of machine.

"You... have a plan, don't you?" he asks.

"I have plenty of plans," Nick replies. "Problem is, they all suck. I guess we could set you up somewhere for the night, so nobody finds you... or, well, we don't. The caravan's mostly leaving for good, but not all of 'em are gonna stay gone, and if they find out I lied to their faces..."

Nick chews on his cheek to keep from rambling on, but the truth is that he doesn't want to lie if he can help it. It wouldn't be right.

"If I stay, they'll kill me," John counters, pretty compellingly all things considered.

"That... might happen, yeah," Nick admits reluctantly. "I mean, not if I can help it, but I don't know what kind of people are gonna show up. Maybe they're the reasonable type."

Sighing heavily, John scrubs a hand heavily over his eyes. Nick is weirdly reminded of Kim in the middle of an argument about classic movie plot points. "I think you overestimate the average person."

"Hey, I'm an average person, and I take offense to that."

John scowls at Nick for a moment, and Nick is again reminded of Kim mid-argument. "No, Nick. You're not."

Nick... doesn't know how to respond to that. "Uh, okay, well," he says, stalling out.

John runs his hand from his eyes back through his hair. "Whatever you think is best," John says at last. He almost doesn't seem to realize it when he says, "I trust you."

"Oh," Nick says. He wants to say more, probably should say more, but he can't think of anything to say. "Well, uh, that's good, I guess. I could still use your help, uh, figuring out the logistics." He points his thumb back over his shoulder and asks, "You, uh, want some coffee? 'Cos I need some."

John huffs. "Yeah," he sighs, knowing full well that he doesn't have much of a choice. "Sure."

It's obvious from the beginning that hiding John isn't going to work. Nick word-vomits about how uncomfortable the idea makes him for a solid two minutes, only to receive a few short agreements from John that are barely better than noncommittal grunts. From the start, John is nervous and uncomfortable, the coffee doing nothing to ease his anxious jitters, but at least Nick can talk out a plan with him without feeling like he's hurling words at a brick wall.

By the time the sun has reached vaguely nine-AM, they've decided that they can't simply drop the news like a bomb, and they know that John is going to hide out in the hangar until Nick decides it's time to fess up. It's a bare-bones plan that has no consideration for logistics, but at least when Kim wakes up, they'll have something to offer other than worryingly asking for her help.

Kim comes downstairs without Carmina, who's probably happy to sleep in for another half-hour or so before the sun nails her in the face and forces her out of bed for good. Kim looks like she barely slept, but she smiles warmly at Nick when she sees him, and groans thankfully when he gets up to get her a cup of coffee.

"So," she asks after she gets a cup of coffee, "What's the plan?"

Nick wouldn't call it a "plan" so much as a "vague idea," but he explains the thought-process anyway. John, who has already heard everything Nick has to say about stowing John away until the "right time" occurs, excuses himself with some half-assed excuse about cleaning the fire pit, ducking out back to probably pace around until he collapses under his own discomfort. Nick can't blame him, really; they're hanging his entire life on the end of a branch labeled "going with Nick's gut," after all.

"What exactly is going to make it the right time ?" Kim asks.

"Well... I guess once we know everyone is here. After we figure out just how badly they might react. If they're real aggressive about it, we can always just... wait until Sharky and Hurk come back, and tell them."

"Yeah, I don't think either of them are going to be happy to know we hid John from them." She sighs, adding reluctantly, "I guess it's a good back-up plan. In case things go really badly from the start."

"God," Nick sighs, draining his cup of coffee, "I hope this doesn't blow up in our faces."

There are footsteps on the front porch, followed by a knock on the door. The two of them freeze, staring at the door for a hot minute until a recognizable voice calls from the other side: "Nick? Kim?"

"Jerome?" Nick calls, pushing himself up from his seat and heading to the door.

At first, he only opens the door a crack, enough to check that Jerome is on his own. When he's pretty sure the caravan as a whole hasn't shown up, he opens the door wide enough to block the entrance with his body.

"What are you doing here?" Nick asks. "The caravan can't be coming through already."

"No," Jerome replies. He looks winded, sweaty and dirty from what looks like a long walk. Nick hopes he didn't come all the way from town by himself on foot — that's more risk than it's worth, with all the wild animals out there. "They won't be here for hours yet. But I... I couldn't sleep. I had to get here before them."

"Jesus, why ?"

It takes Jerome a moment to find the words, but as soon as he gathers the strength, he blurts them out before he loses his nerve. "There has to be something I can do to convince you not to throw everything away like this. Your family has been vital to the county, and I cannot let you ruin your lives when we need to stay together the most ! You're going to turn everyone against you! A monster like John Seed as no right , asking you to risk your family like this!"

Jerome looks to Nick for some kind of reaction, deflating when he doesn't see what he wants. "He cannot be worth it," he finishes miserably.

"Hey, now," Nick says, unable to help sounding offended. He hopes Jerome doesn't take it the wrong way, but from the scandalized look on his face, he most certainly has. "I know what I'm doing, okay?" he amends, feeling a little bad for lying.

A hand touches his back, and so Nick opens the door wide to accommodate Kim standing next to him. "Jerome," she says gently, as though she hadn't heard his outburst a moment ago, "Why don't you come in and have some coffee?"

"This isn't a social visit," he says, startled.

"You can still have a cup of coffee," Kim replies, nudging Nick out of the way. "Come in so we can talk."

Kim takes point from there, leaving Nick to shut the door while she brings Jerome to the table and has him sit, coffee already poured for him. With the living room cleaned up and Jerome sitting at close to his usual spot at the table, Nick finds himself transported backward in time. For a second, maybe even less than that, Nick can see the house the way it used to be — the way it might've been, if maybe they had been less wrapped up in the cult bullshit and more worried about the disquieting news coming in from outside their small ecosystem.

The moment passes, and Nick is still in this uncomfortable situation with a house that's falling down around him. Figures that he can't enjoy the fantasy for even a moment.

Nick mostly keeps to himself, hovering near the support beam while Kim does her best to explain the situation with John to an increasingly upset-looking Jerome. She rehashes the stuff he already knows, about how Nick found him, and the ultimatum that's kept him sheltered and fed for more than half a year now. She even mentions some of the work John's done for them, although she doesn't go into much detail. After all, not many people are going to be impressed by John sorting nails and repairing fences.

What she does focus on is John's reaction to their demands. The way he'd agree to anything, working himself well past the point of exhaustion, falling into mute obedience — Kim tells Jerome everything, listing his strange, unsettling habits like a worried mother talking to a pediatrician. He doesn't sleep. He talks to himself, struggles to focus past the things that have consumed his mind. She's worried about it, and what it means about his time underground. She's seen how people break. Despite everything, she thinks he sincerely is trying, but he won't open up and she can't help but worry that it might cause more problems down the line.

Nick doesn't know how comfortable he can be, listening to Kim discuss John's progress like a teacher talking about a troubled student. He manages to stick it out for a few minutes, but when Kim starts talking about Joseph, and the trembling wreck his appearance had turned John into, he finds himself making a measured retreat for the backyard. Somebody ought to tell John that Jerome has come by, right? And that somebody might as well be Nick, who can't stand to hear Kim worry about John goddamn Seed for another minute.

There isn't much to do in the backyard. Most of the fence is in place by now, and the debris has been pulled around back of the hangar, leaving the yard an empty wash of dirt tamped down by their daily movement. Even the fire pit has been cleaned up, thanks to Carmina taking her chores seriously yesterday. If John had come out here to try and find something to distract him, he's going to be hard-pressed.

For his part, John has taken up a spot by the planters. Kim and Carmina have planted some soy beans in the second planter, but they haven't taken off yet and none of them are sure they will. In the meantime, John plucks out some errant weeds, careful not to disturb the few sprouts that seem to have taken root.

"Hey," Nick says.

John barely looks Nick's way at the greeting. "I thought I heard something," he says instead, which at the very least saves Nick an awkward segue.

"Uh, yeah." He scratches the back of his head. "Jerome's just inside. I thought you'd want a head's up. The caravan shouldn't be here for a while, though. A couple of hours, anyway."

John swallows heavily. "That isn't much time."

Nick nods, looking around the backyard to avoid long eye-contact with John. "Not like we'd have anything to do if it were further away," he points out. "Things here are about as good as they're gonna get."

"It won't be enough." John fixes Nick with a dark look, one that reminds Nick that John's list of past transgressions is miles-long. "This isn't going to be enough for them."

"I guess you'd be the expert on repentance, huh?" Nick knows it's kind of a dig, but at least that ugly look on John's face is replaced by one that's more simply offended. "Look, I know you don't think we... punish you enough around here or whatever, but..."

"Don't say it like that ," John groans miserably.

"Hey, the point stands whether or not I say it! Just — trust us, okay?"

John shakes his head. He doesn't seem willing to admit to it again again, but that's okay. Nick knows he's got John's trust, even if it's been given mostly against John's better judgment. Considering this is the same guy who thinks Nick should have left a few prominent scars to convince strangers of his atonement, maybe Nick doesn't care so much about his judgment here.

"They won't be satisfied," John mutters.

"Maybe that's just your dissatisfaction talking. Most everyone around here are good, decent people, even after everything they've been through. Anyone who thinks we didn't beat you enough is better off getting the hell out of my county. We don't have time for that kind of shit around here."

John is quiet for a bit after Nick's outburst. Nick's not surprised, since John seems incapable of understanding Nick's pacifism, but at least he isn't immediately refuting everything on principle alone anymore.

"I need it to be enough," John finally says hoarsely. "I can't have all of this be for nothing. I can't ."

For once, Nick doesn't bother to stop his knee-jerk reassurances — John looks like he could probably use them. "Even if nobody else is convinced, uh... you should know, we do believe you. Sort of," he clarifies hastily as John casts a horrified look at him, "At least, I don't think you're bullshitting me right now."

John swallows thickly and nods. Words don't seem part of his acceptance, but that's all right, Nick doesn't need them.

The back porch creaks unhappily behind Nick, who turns to find Kim and Jerome standing there. John sees them too, half-rising to his feet before seeming to think better of it and sitting heavily back down on the planter.

"John," Jerome says. He doesn't sound happy, but at least he doesn't sound like he's about to chuck a Molotov in John's face.

"...Pastor Jerome," John responds, looking nauseous.

Jerome steps off of the porch. "We have some things to discuss."

Instinctively, John's hand reaches up, as if to stop Nick from abandoning him, but he aborts the gesture quickly, digging his fingers into the tire treads instead.

"...You're right," John admits. Even though he isn't trying to stop Nick from leaving physically, he looks like he absolutely does not want to be alone around Jerome. Unfortunately, Jerome's expression tells Nick that whatever words he has to share with John, they are private, and they're just going to make Nick wish he'd never heard them.

"It's gonna be fine," Nick tells him. He mostly believes it, too.

The front of the house has mostly been left to rot, which had been fine when Nick wasn't expecting a half-dozen cars to show up in his drive. With John and Jerome busy out back and Kim getting Carmina prepared for company, Nick is left alone to clean up the tumbleweeds that have made their home against the dilapidated remains of chain-link fencing. He could probably leave it — after all, nobody is expecting perfection these days — but somehow he can't bring himself to leave a poor first impression. What John said must have gotten to him, because here he is, looking over a patch of dirt and trying to see how he can make it seem like enough . Proof that he knew what he was doing when he saved John, proof that he knows what he's doing now, trusting the guy with his reputation and that of his family.

Unfortunately, there's not much to save in the front yard, and Nick's bottle of weed-killer is six-years expired and empty to boot. They're all just going to have to work with what they've got.

Carmina comes out at some point to help, mostly by distracting Nick with lots of questions. Are there going to be kids coming? Is Grace going to show up too? Can she trade The Wizard of Oz for another book? Will they mind that John is here? Shouldn't he be hiding? What if Grace does show up, too? Is she going to be okay?

"Honey, I don't know," Nick replies to most of it. Thankfully, he taught her early on that adults saying "I don't know" is actually a good thing — mostly because Nick says it too much to have his daughter think he's being dumb.

"All I know is that we're gonna do our best to be hospitable," he clarifies, because that's a lesson Carmina still hasn't learned anything about. "This is the first big caravan of the year. People are gonna be passing through a lot more as things get back to normal, and they'll always be a grab-bag. Uh, that means it'll be a surprise, what kinda people will come through."

"So there could be kids?" Carmina asks hopefully.

"Sure," Nick smiles. "Kids, dogs, friendly old ladies who'll pinch your cheeks too hard. All sorts of people. But this one is... extra important, you know?"

"Because of John?" Carmina asks. "That's what mom said."

Nick sighs. "Yep," he says, "Because of John." Maybe that's a little harsh, but it's true. Still, Nick tries to sound less exasperated when he continues. "Some of the people coming through probably won't be happy to see him. That's why Pastor Jerome is talking to him now — to see if he can help."

"I thought Jerome didn't like John," Carmina replies.

"Nobody likes John," Nick clarifies. "That doesn't mean we aren't gonna try to help him out."

" Why ? If nobody likes him..."

Nick sighs, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Because it's the right thing to do, Carmina. If somebody needs help, you oughta help them if you can. You know, even before the bombs, everyone out here relied on each other when things got tough. It might not be much, but that's one thing I'm not gonna give up on." He looks around the yard, mostly to avoid his daughter's eye-contact, but eventually, he offers her a smile. "You get it, right?"

"Sure," Carmina says, most likely not getting it at all.

It's not that much longer before the first car shows up. The dark blue sedan that rolls down their drive has heavily patched tires and a crack through the windshield, but the engine sounds plenty capable of a long drive. A mattress and a wardrobe box are strapped to the roof of the car with ropes, and the back seat is full of boxes, but Nick sure hopes they have more supplies on hand than what he sees.

"Go tell your mom," Nick tells Carmina, who nods and jogs off to warn everyone that it's show time.

Nick guides the car around a deep crack in the drive, and he's privately relieved to barely recognize either of the people in the car. The couple that climbs out is passingly familiar — Nick has a clear vision of the man at Lorna's, for some reason — and they seem excited to see Nick, but honestly, he couldn't name them if he tried.

"I sure hope Jerome sent word we were coming," the lady driving says after she dusts herself off. She's got her hair shaved up short, and a long welted scar runs from her temple to her nose. Nick remembers her, minus the scar, but he can't remember her name. Joan, maybe? Georgia? Something like that...

"That he did!" Nick offers her a friendly smile, gesturing towards the house. "We got everything all set up if you wanna make yourselves at home. Uh, he didn't tell us how many were coming, so I dunno if we got enough space, but..."

The guy, whose name Nick definitely doesn't remember, waves a hand in an attempt to ease Nick's worries. "Don't worry, it's just a couple of cars. Us, a couple guys who found a working Honda, and the Halls. They've got a big-ass truck, though, and a trailer, so they might need help with that ditch."

Kim comes around from the back before Nick needs to come up with more small talk. Pleasantly surprised as she recognizes their guests, she calls, "Julia, is that you?"

"Kim!" Julia exclaims, going in for a hug that Kim is glad to give. "It's so good to see you again!"

With the ice successfully broken and Kim taking point on hosting duties, Nick slowly feels himself start to relax back into the role himself. Julia and Clark are long-time Hope County residents, and they seem just as happy to have a brief return to normalcy as Nick is to indulge in it, so for the next few minutes, the conversation stays light and upbeat.

Clark can't give them a head-count, but he talks about the Hall family and their plan to head as far west as possible, implying the whole time that most people found the idea to be too risky to actually take on. When Carmina comes downstairs only to be disheartened by the lack of kids around, Julia is quick to reassure her that the Halls have a boy about her age. It's probably that news that keeps Carmina docile as Julia proceeds to fawn over how big she is.

Sure enough, the next car to come in is a large, beat-up F-150, the bed's sideboards painted with faded apple orchard logos. The family Clark and Julia mentioned are sitting up front in the cab, while three more people take up space in the bed. Nick helps them down the drive, careful of the small trailer they've got with them. The whole time, Carmina is waiting behind him impatiently.

Before Nick can join Kim in introducing Carmina to one of the few kids her age in the area, he's distracted by the third car rolling into the yard. The Honda is another four-door, although it looks more comfortable in the back than Julia and Clark's car, with or without the boxes. Nick catches sight of a toddler sitting on a woman's lap, which will probably bum Carmina out, but at least she can get some practice in with babies.

The headcount comes to ten people, minus kids, which is a lot less than Nick's worst fears expected. What's more, they all seem like reasonable people. The problem, though, is that Jerome definitely mentioned Hurk and Sharky tagging along, and Nick doesn't know how many people might be riding with them. Plus, they've been openly experimenting with the Mad Max raider thing, and Nick isn't 100% sure just how hard they're leaning into it. Escorting a caravan full of families with minimal weapons doesn't exactly scream cutthroat bastards , but the worry sticks to the back of Nick's mind.

Things are calm for the next hour or two. The three people who came with the truck all seem eager to keep moving at first, but they slowly relax once they're seated inside at the dinner table. With a couple of the windows unboarded and the back porch fully open, the inside of the house is filled with light. They had to get rid of the couch when they unburied it, but now Nick wishes they had more seating in here.

"The place looks great, right?" Julia asks one of the girls at the table. Neither of them have ever been here, Nick doesn't think, but they play along.

"Most of the houses collapsed," Katrina comments. She's the most jittery out of the three sitting at the table, and so far Nick only knows that she's from California and has been wanting to get back there since the bombs fell. "You guys got lucky."

"Things are way better once you get out of close-range areas like this," the girl sitting beside Katrina says. She calls herself Merit, and it's clear from her worn-out gear and her heavy goggle-lines that she's been traveling for a while. Nick wonders if she just happened upon the caravan, or if she helped put it together. "Some towns barely look any different."

"It took a lot of hard work to clean it up," Nick offers awkwardly. "You should've seen how much dirt we had to move."

It's weird, taking credit for John's work. Nick takes an immediate dislike to it. He would look to the third person at the table, a gruff and quiet man named Everett, for some kind of distraction, but the guy doesn't seem interested in conversation.

"You think Helena is going to be better than this?" Katrina asks Merit.

"Oh, hell yeah," she says.

As soon as Merit launches into hypothesizing what the next towns might be like, Nick makes a quick exit for the back porch. Carmina and the Hall kid — Liam, Nick's pretty sure — are drawing big shapes out in the dirt with sticks, gossiping as best they can without any daycare socialization to help them. Kim seems satisfied with it, anyway — enough that she can dedicate most of her focus on trading gardening tips and general life-hacks with the two other mothers in the group. Jerome rejoins the group for a few minutes, but after he drifts briefly through the conversations, he seems to disappear again. Nick isn't sure if that's a good sign or not, but he's gonna have to trust himself while he flies blind for a bit.

Nick doesn't know which is louder on Hurk's arrival: the three roaring motorcycle engines, or the cacophony of black metal that comes with them. It's a whole lot of presentation for three guys on some busted old Harleys, but it sure does the trick of drawing everyone's attention. By the time they rumble down the drive, everyone has congregated to the front of the house, just in time to witness an almost coordinated stop beside the truck.

The music blares from an old stereo on the back of one of the bikes, so killing the engines doesn't do anything to stop it. He doesn't take off his helmet, but Nick recognizes Hurk swearing a blue-streak as he tries to shut the music off with as little noticeable fanfare as possible.

"Party train's in town, bitches!" he hollers, as if they aren't watching him beat up a cassette player in real-time.

The two guys with Hurk take off their helmets, and Nick immediately pegs them for ex-cultists. There's something about the way they look at the house, as if the last time they saw it they were busting in the doors at John's command. One of them, nearly as big as Hurk, the only hair on his head his long, untamed beard, looks like he never quite came off the Bliss, his eyes glassy and vacant. The other fills out their stereotypical raiders unit with his wild locs and big, unhinged smile, giving off real wild-card vibes in a pack already chock full of Jokers.

Neither of them are Sharky, which is... weird. Truthfully, seeing Hurk without his cousin is a little jarring — after all, they've been together since the world ended.

Hurk must notice him looking around because he's quick to put any worries to rest. "Sharky's gonna show eventually," he says. "Likes taking the road less traveled, y'know? Since all the roads these days aren't traveled, though, he's gotta get real weird with it." He waves a hand as though swatting away a troublesome fly. "You'll hear him before you see him."

It doesn't take long for that to backfire spectacularly in Nick's face. Not three minutes later, Nick catches the distant roar of an ATV somewhere out in the trees. He isn't the only one; pretty much everybody else swivels to nervously eye the woods until Sharky's caterwauling eases their deeply ingrained flight instincts. Like before, the entire crowd migrates towards the noise, following it into the backyard.

Nick tries not to worry about it as Sharky comes up from the wrong side of the hangar. After all, Sharky's probably gonna drive right by the hangar without so much as a second glance, and anyway, Jerome is there to run interference if things go south. Sharky's mellowed out since the apocalypse — surely he'd listen to reason. Right?

It's all Nick can think about while he and Sonny Hall talk about the potential hazards on their way out. He almost convinces himself that things are going to be fine by the time the ATV engine cuts off, writing it off as nothing more than a random habit of Sharky's to park in the most inconvenient places.

There's no way to rationalize the terrible crash from the hangar, followed by Sharky's blood-curdling holler of, " What the fuck !"

Sharky himself rushes from the hanger via the utility door, practically spilling out into the dirt wash between the two buildings. He rushes towards them with his mouth agape and his face pale from shock; he pulls up short as he catches Nick visibly flailing from his discovery.

"You wanna tell me what the fuck John Seed is doing in your fucking hangar ?" he asks, voice cracking as it fails to contain all of his outrage.

Nick opens his mouth to say something, anything to ease the blow that's coming, but Hurk cuts him off at the head. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he scoffs loudly, waving a dismissive middle finger in Sharky's direction. "Do you know how fuckin' nuts you sound right now?"

Sharky's face turns beet red, fists clenching as he locks eyes with Nick for a brief, furious second before about-facing for the hangar. His betrayal and fury sting like a bitch.

"Sharky," Nick calls, but the guy is definitely not listening to him right now. He looks where Kim is standing, her hand tight on Carmina's shoulder, but she's just as lost as he is. They'd planned to segue into this, for God's sake! This isn't anywhere near what they planned!

Shit. Nick can't let Sharky be the first one to reach the hangar. He needs to get in front of this, before everyone swings into mob mentality and tears John to pieces. As he jogs in Sharky's furious wake, he can feel the group closing in behind him, fear and curiosity and utter disbelief drawing the whole goddamn posse down at once.

Sharky flings open the door and disappears into the hangar. Jerome tries to calm him down, urging him to hold on, but it does nothing to slow the guy down. Nick reaches the hangar in time for Sharky to shove John through the door, knocking him to the dirt in front of Nick's feet.

"Jesus Christ !" someone shouts from behind him. Nick just knew that haircut was going to get them into trouble — as if John's tattooed arms aren't bare and visible to the crowd.

"What the fuck is this shit!" Sharky shouts as he clears the door.

John remains on his knees, keeping his eyes fixed on the dirt beneath him. A flurry of anxious chatter goes up around Nick, who finds himself suddenly standing in a strange no man's land between John and the crowd he'd been part of just a minute before. It's a terrible feeling, watching everyone pull back from him like he's got some kind of disease or something.

Nick fumbles with the words that he wants to say, unable to have practiced for this awful scenario. "I, uh, can explain," he says.

"You'd better ," one of Hurk's riders shouts.

"Look, okay, so..."

Nick is positive they aren't going to like the truth, but it's all he has to offer them. They never got a chance to see John lying in the brush like a wasted corpse — all they see now is the end result of all of Nick and Kim's hard goddamn work, trying to find some kind of real human being under all of the rot. He never should have kept John a secret — he should have forced everybody else to look at the work the three of them have had cut out for them, and then maybe they wouldn't be looking at him like he's some kind of monster for admitting that John had just been too sick, too close to death already, for Nick to bring himself to pull the trigger.

"It wouldn't have been right to leave him there," he sighs.

"You should have put a bullet between his eyes!" Katrina shouts at him.

"Don't you think I considered that?" Nick snaps. "It was the first thing I thought!"

"Then why the fuck didn't you?"

He throws his hands up, feeling crazy for having to shout, "Because I didn't want to !" He's been thrown into some horrible alternate universe where people don't think twice about shooting first and never asking questions. "I've never wanted to kill anybody ! I didn't want to back then, and I sure as hell don't want to start murdering people now ! And I couldn't just — I needed to know how he'd survived, if maybe Dep had..."

"Don't finish that sentence," Sharky warns.

"Or what ? You think that they would've done it differently?" Nick points at John, who sits with his head bowed. "I found this sorry bastard struggling to breathe in the dirt! You tell me what Rook would've done differently if John hadn't given them a good damn reason to pull the trigger!"

"A reason ?" Sharky spits in disbelief.

" Yeah , a fucking reason! I'm not a goddamn murderer, Sharky, and that's what it would've been!" He takes a breath, desperate to keep his cool. "We gave him an ultimatum," he continues. "He could stay with us if he did everything we said, if he swore off of the cult — and he did. He has, I mean. He isn't with the Peggies, he isn't with Joseph —"

"Yeah, until that sonuvabitch shows up and takes him back!"

"Joseph can try ." Nick scowls, glancing briefly down at John, who still hasn't moved, not even to look his accusers in the eye. "C'mon, John. Tell them."

"Like I'm gonna believe a word that fucking maniac says!"

John swallows. But for whatever reason, he manages to find enough words to begin defending himself. "The Project was a mistake," he rasps. "It was a pointless endeavor from the start and somewhere inside I knew that."

Katrina surges forward as though she might burst through the crowd and personally beat John to a pulp. Merit's hand on her arm is the only thing that keeps her from doing it. "You fucking monster!" she howls.

"Yes," John replies. He doesn't look up, too scared to, but Nick knows he means it when he says, "I'm sorry."

"Fuck your apologies!"

Jerome, standing quietly in the doorway until now, steps forward. He doesn't quite kneel, but he reaches down to put a firm hand on John's shoulder. It's not a comforting gesture — if anything, Jerome is holding him in place.

"I know," John rasps. He lifts his head at last, revealing a fresh black-eye, which is no doubt Sharky's doing. It takes him a moment to find the words, but he's resigned himself to the mercy of the crowd, and he doesn't try to plead with them.

"There's no forgiveness for the things I've done. There's no... fixing it. I should have died. When Nick found me, I should have forced his hand, but I... couldn't."

"You had eight years to kill yourself," Everett points out grimly. "You should have done it then."

John swallows. "Yes," he says. "I really should have."

Nick can't help muttering an uncomfortable, " Hey ," but Jerome cuts him off just by looking at him. There's plenty of time to freak out about the suicide talk later, hopefully once John avoids being executed entirely.

"I was a coward," John says. The words come out with the force of a long-held confession. "I've always been a coward. It's why I joined Joseph when he found me and followed every word. It's why I listened to Nick when he told me to choose between being shot in the head or helping him. Everything I've ever done has been — just mindless self-preservation."

John swallows. Nick isn't sure who he's looking to, exactly, but he speaks to one person in particular as he says, "I tried to tear my sins out of you to save myself. Manual labor, mending fences — it's never going to be enough to make up for that."

"You bet it isn't," Everett says.

"You probably have enough skin for us to return the favor," Katrina says. Nick doesn't know if she's carrying a weapon or not, but he's pretty sure he'll be the only one to object if she pulls one on John now.

"Hey, now," Nick interjects, unable to help himself and absolutely unwilling to stop himself this time around. "We're better than that."

"Fuck you! You keep him around like a pet farm-hand on land that could keep us all safe and fed, forcing us to go fend for ourselves while you harbor a goddamn monster under your roof!" She points accusingly at the house. "Yeah, real nice place, you fucking traitor !"

"Who do you think we made fix everything !" Nick exclaims, throwing his arms wide. "The only reason we've got all this usable land is because of John, goddamn it! And you all want to leave. You said so yourself, you're not even from here! If you think you can just roll onto my property and act entitled to it, I'll teach you the same goddamn lesson I taught those Peggies nine years ago!"

"More like cult property," some jackass says, as though shouting something loudly enough makes it true. Nick scans the crowd for the culprit, but there are honestly too many guilty faces to choose from.

"Eden's Gate is dead," John says, as if somehow he's the person to bring reason and civility back into the conversation. "Whatever Joseph thinks he's doing now, it's a crippled organization of people more desperate than you. There aren't enough believers left to allow the Project to become a threat. Even if he wanted it, he could never take this property."

"As if I would believe you ."

"You don't have to believe me," John replies, shrugging off the disbelief. "It's true either way. I know what the Deputy did to the bunkers. The most faithful were being held there — if they weren't destroyed with the gates, then the Collapse would have left them feeling like sinners. And I know what eight years of isolation away from Joseph can do to a person's faith. He'll never have the numbers he wanted, much less the numbers he had before the Collapse."

Nick knows that most of the people standing here are never going to forgive him. They're never going to forgive John, either, and one day they might come back expecting the worst from Nick's bad decision. But at least for now, John's honesty seems true enough to reassure the best of them. Everett hasn't left to get his gun yet, anyway, and Katrina hasn't tried to burst through the crowd and flay John alive. That's something, anyway, right?

"What if you're wrong?" Sharky asks. He still looks pissed, but his arms are crossed defensively over his chest and he doesn't look willing to start a fight right now. "Not saying I believe you," he adds, just in case anyone had any doubts. "But if I did ."

John doesn't hesitate. "If I am, kill him. Of course, his followers will martyr him, so you'll have to kill them as well." He clenches his jaw for a moment, as though he doesn't want to say it, and then admits, "Anyone who would follow Joseph now has to be completely devoted to him. They'll take any outside aggression as a reason to attack. If you move on Joseph, you'll have to be willing to exterminate the whole group."

"That sounds like a whole lotta work," Hurk points out pragmatically.

"Sure sounds like you're telling us to let Joseph do whatever he wants," one of his biker pals adds. It's also a pragmatic observation, but Nick has no doubt it's meant as an accusation. "We show up here and find out John Seed is still alive, and he's telling us to just leave it alone , and you want us to believe you're not part of all of it?"

Nick doesn't realize at first that the guy is talking to him . "Are you kidding me?" Nick asks. "Are you forgetting who shot this sorry fuck out of the sky? He tried to rip the pride right outta me —"

"And yet here you are, defending him!"

"Of course I'm defending him! Nobody else is gonna do it!"

With his blood about ready to boil, it's a good thing that Kim arrives before Nick says something stupid. He's not sure when she rejoined the group, but now she cuts in front of the strangers in their home, resting a hand on his shoulder as she steps up beside him. He grabs it immediately, maybe a little too tightly, but he can't afford to lose his cool any more than he already has.

"I know, it's a lot to handle," she says. "It's been a lot for us, too. But Nick is telling you all the truth. It has nothing to do with the cult. We aren't being manipulated, and we aren't trying to betray anyone. Nick found him when he needed help, and we helped him. It's as simple as that."

She offers them an apologetic smile. "Things after the bombs have been hard on all of us. But the past still haunts me. It's been almost ten years and I still have nightmares about it. I want this world to be better than the last one, but there's still so much of me left back there. When Nick found John, I thought — I thought we might not be done, honestly. I felt the same way you all feel now. But then I thought, maybe if somebody like John could change, then maybe that meant better for me. For all of us."

Hurk, frowning heavily, crosses his arms over his chest as Sharky slowly uncrosses his. "You really wanna put that much hope on that guy?" he asks.

"Well — yes," Kim admits. "I know that maybe it doesn't seem like enough — I know it doesn't seem like enough to him — but John has been trying. And I can't afford to give up on anybody who wants to be better than the person they were."

Nick realizes that Clark has disappeared from the group. The family from the Honda is nowhere to be seen either; Mary Hall is standing at the back porch with her hands on her son's shoulders while Carmina stands next to them.

For a moment, the silence between the two sides seems insurmountable, and Nick worries that they might have to be ready to move or otherwise defend their home from an angry mob. But eventually, after a few tortuously long seconds have gone by, Sonny Hall comes to a decision.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter what happens in Hope County anymore," he says, scratching his chin. "Only time will tell if we'll have to deal with Eden's Gate in California. Still... Might be best if we get moving sooner, all things considered."

"Guess we're getting out while the getting's good," Merit tells Katrina, who looks like she still wants to pick a fight, even with a wide-open escape at her back. "Don't worry, nothing from this podunk piece of shit is gonna affect anything, ever!"

Katrina stares at John like she's memorizing a mortal enemy. "You better hope not," she tells him, although she looks at Nick when she says it.

Sharky doesn't move as the group begins to retreat, leaving Hurk to awkwardly stop some feet behind and wait for him. He stares at Nick like he doesn't recognize the ugly thing he sees standing there.

"It was a real low blow, bringing the deputy into this," he says. "You know that."

For the first time today, Nick feels truly guilty. True or not, throwing anything Rook-related in Sharky's face is definitely a low blow. "Yeah," he says. "I shouldn't have done that."

Deflating at Nick's apology, Sharky scowls in John's direction before eyeballing the Ryes. "Lucky for you, I like Kim," he says at last, sniffing dismissively. "Otherwise, we'd have a real problem here."

"Thank you, Sharky," Kim replies. "Be safe, okay?"

Nodding reluctantly, Sharky turns to join his and Hurk's small gang. Nick watches them all go, unable to decide whether or not that was the best possible outcome, or simply the least bloodthirsty. He can't help but worry who they're going to tell what , but at this point, it's out of his hands.

"I'll go get Carmina," Kim says after a brief silence. "It might be better if they don't see us before they leave."

"I'll do it," Jerome says. He breaks away somewhat guiltily, but Nick can tell that he wishes he could join the caravan right now and get as far away from this mess as possible. Hell, after the way things went today, he still might try.

It's only once Jerome is gone that John speaks, struggling to keep his voice from shaking. "It's not really over," he says, "It can't be."

"Well, we'll have to go through that a couple hundred more times," Nick points out, "But... I mean, yeah. It's over. Sorry I wouldn't let them flog you or anything."

It's probably too early to joke, but he manages to draw a sigh from John, which is better than nothing. He's saved from having to respond as Carmina jogs across the yard, bouncing from foot to foot once she comes to an antsy stop in front of them.

"Is everything okay?" she asks. "They're all leaving!"

"Everything is fine," Kim tells her. "They want to get some distance before night-fall, that's all. Did you have any luck trading with Liam?"

Kim distracts Carmina from the escaping caravan by talking about her new book, as well as some potential ways to find new reading material. Nick and John both remain in the same spots that they'd defended themselves from, until the last car rumbles out of the drive and Jerome reappears on the back porch.

"What now?" John asks.

"I dunno," Nick replies. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

[vaguely-concerned]

TEMERAIRE LET’S READ: BLOOD OF TYRANTS, THE WILLIAM LAURENCE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT NG+ SPEEDRUN

- oh NO LAURENCE D:D:D:

I do love that one of his first realizations is that he’s definitely not dutch tho lol this dumbass remembered that he was english before he remembered his own name

- caught between OH NO TEMERAIRE (and it’s only page 9 it’s going to be one of those books huh) and laughing my ass off at the thought of him swooping into notoriously isolationist japan and yelling ‘HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN MY DAD???’

- “Yes,” [Laurence] said, unyielding, as he could not be otherwise. ahahahahaha way to summarize the entirety of old school!laurence with one fucking sentence

(I am very much enjoying this uh. ‘setback’ of his character actually? novik really did just roll him back to factory settings and went ‘now... from the top again, let’s see if you’ve been paying attention these last seven books’ haha. no one told me there’d be a test!!!!!!!!!!)

- Kaneko really has the patience and graciousness of a saint, @ laurence please... please try to be marginally less sketchy hm? (I guess his sheer obliviousness to how direly he comes across here must be why kaneko hasn’t dismissed him out of hand)

- y’know... at least laurence is in no position to have to worry about all this shit temeraire and the others are pulling. when people start talking about black-scaled celestials shaking the country to its very foundations he’ll be blissfully, innocently unaware. that’s something, I suppose... well who am I kidding we’ll 100% get a couple of paragraphs of him convincing himself this is all his fault somehow anyway

- . . . and His Majesty’s Government does not behave in such an underhanded a manner as to attack another nation with no warning or quarrel. aha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha oh what a strange beautiful fantasy land you’ve been residing in for most of your life william laurence, hang on tight for the opium wars

- hahaha oh my god this is like a platonic version of that text post

temeraire: have you guys seen my dad??!?!

them: what does he look like?

temeraire, crying: beautiful and human and has gold buttons

- I take it all back old school laurence is such a tremendous idiot. just PRETEND you’re willing to cooperate at least you huge fuckign dummy, all you’d have to do was say something vague about how the ship can’t get too close to shore; it won’t actually help them and they’ll know it but you won’t make yourself look so unspeakably willfully suspicious

-  :( making me read things where temeraire is just hurting should be ILLEGAL actually

- NO LAURENCE STOP TRYING TO KICK LITERALLY EVERY POLITICAL HORNET’S NEST WITHIN REACH BAD BOY he is... a disaster but I love him and fear for him as a son so here I am anyway

- hahahahaha yeah wow laurence it sure would suck if you ever had to commit treason huh death probably would be preferable indeed

b o i

- i like that it took him like a week to even give a single thought to edith lol at least he remains aggressively himself

- I think temeraire basically just invented dragon baby photos and I can’t even think for how darling it is

also every dragon physician is delightful; they fear neither god, man nor huge ass patients who could swallow them in a bite

aw man I love gong su

- ahahahahahahah kiyo is the actual best I can’t breathe

KANPAI INDEED, MY LADY, MY LIEGE, I DON’T CARE WHAT ELSE HAPPENS I WOULD FOLLOW YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH

Laurence was forced to at least moisten his lips in a show of accompaniment, and hope that he had indeed buried Caesar and not praised him, or for that matter raised him from the dead one act too soon; he was not perfectly sure. He did not think he had been this appallingly drunk since he had been a boy of twelve, trying to make good on every toast at his captain’s table. I. am. dying

thank you thank you thank you for the mental image of laurence drunkenly trying to stumble through the ‘friends, romans, countrymen’ speech as well as the entire rest of the play in a one-man performance

- oh no... I would die for junichiro, baby boy who loves his teacher SO MUCH ;____________; aaaaand there are laurence’s adoption instincts, I see, right on time <3 I like how they have had one actual conversation now and laurence is like ‘ah well nothing for it then guess you’ll have to stay on my ship and I’ll have to be your dad now, brash 16 year old child’

junichiro is being Full Teenager about laurence not knowing ~*obvious*~ things and it’s a delight

- y’know this period of japanese history is always portrayed in the west as paranoia and it could probably only be done because the country was a strict military dictatorship at the time... but having read oh, any history book ever, deciding that nope nah don’t think so no europeans ever is the greatest ‘fair enough’ in human history.  (...I guess this series is sort of AU fix it fic of the period in the first place haha)

- seeing temeraire this level of straight out angry is very interesting and also very unsettling

- ooooof whenever laurence almost-remembers temeraire... stab me in the heart why don’t you

- man churki really is the mom friend of these dragons she’s the only one who has a lick of sense

- *laurence, upon clobbering several men with an oar* “Ma’am, I beg your pardon,” Laurence said to the old woman, who was still sitting ramrod-straight in the ferry over the side from him and regarding him with a flat expression of utter disapproval and not the least evidence of fear; he put out a boot over the side and shoved the ferry off with a heave

god this book is just a continual parade of glorious mental images, just this old woman glaring at him like ‘RUDE’ and “Ma’am, I beg your pardon” fdslfhsdlkjh

- I have a lot of sympathy for hammond. imagine having to navigate the extremely delicate diplomatic situation between europe and japan, with the real prospect of a war breaking out over it, while temeraire is looking over your shoulder... real dragon in the glassware shop vibe going on here, i’m sorry about your life hammond

- AUGH laurence just sort-of-remembered emily he just half-remembered he basically has a daughter someone hold me (...junichiro is so so sweet ;___;)

- bwahahaha yeah I’m sure the only reason this impressionable young kid who’s slowly becoming very impressed by you has for sneaking glances at your bare chest is manly appreciation of your battle scars laurence, well done (I mean a supremely understandable innocent teen crush to develop but stay safely out of that, kid; I trust tharkay to survive the sheer field of mayhem around this man only because he’s got like 20 years, extreme competency and a world of cynicism on you)

- aw junichiro :(:(:(

- ...laurence you need to stop making your dragon boi think you’re dead because this is hurting me. my heart lies in sad little pieces on the ground right now. you are stepping on them with tapdancing shoes.

- “I am under an obligation to Junichiro,” [Laurence] said, quietly, “who you must know has aided me for love of you. If I surrender myself and am made prisoner in this way, will your honor be satisfied?”

fdsfhsdkfsdja  *ELMO SURROUNDED BY FLAMES GIF* this is all awful they’re all such good people why must this happen why this  

(what a way to remind me why I love this stupid wonderful man so much tho uuuuuugh)

- “He is a prince of China, and my captain.” “The devil I am,” said Laurence. This might be the funniest heartbreak I have ever experienced

- good job making me cry whenever I read the words ‘principia mathematica’ naomi novik that was real nice of you

- maximus is such a solid bro. not the brightest, but by god a good 80% of that boy’s gigantic body mass is pure heart

- I love the sheer trollishness of just dropping all these hints about whatever’s going on in the US and then moving on like nothing has happened lol at least it’s deeply implied that hamilton squandered his chances at the presidency by pulling his dumb hoe act in this universe too... constants and variables friends constants and variables

- bOY for a moment there I really did wonder if junichiro was going to die, thank god for a quick google to stop my heart from leaping up my throat and out into thin air to shatter yet again on the flagstones beneath

- in unrelated news I recently found out a bit more about the whole historical Situation in Australia at the beginning of Tongues of Serpents (incidentally, by reading Mark Forsyth’s ‘A Short History of Drunkenness’, which is very funny and quite interesting although I can personally testify that the chapter about vikings at least is completely riddled with misunderstandings or straight out factual errors about the mythology, the role of women in society and uh the entirety of how poetry worked so maybe take him with a pinch of salt lol), and now, in retrospect, I have to say Novik does a poor job conveying the sheer hilarity and madness going on at that time. Like. I was quite bored in those first few chapters, whenever Tharkay didn’t have page time. how could you make this incredible spectacular shitshow boring. it should have been easy comedy gold and not just like. misery. oh well great times, let’s return to the book at hand

- I remain utterly devoted to Lady Kiyo. livin’ life, drinking sake, giving no fucks, absentmindedly scoping out the western style ships and starting an entire modern navy for her country, getting some Theater up in here.... truly I would follow her into the jaws of hell itself, safely in the knowledge that she’d find some way to have a good time down there

- kaneko tearing up at laurence promising he’ll take care of junichiro 😭 this is so cruel to me, personally, specifically against my person, I am undone

- I like how the incan dragons are told like ‘don’t pick just one special person; you can love all your humans equally’ while the poor japanese ones are told ‘actually don’t love any of your humans very much at least not more than Honour’ lol they must have so many neurotic dragons running about b/c that when that attachment happens it seems extremely central to their psychology (and considering lady arikawa it’s not like they’re exempt from it, they’re just supposed to repress it to conform)

- laurence desperately trying to work out whether emily’s his daughter without actually asking anyone... delicious

the descriptions of roland’s letters: even more delicious

- temeraire sees the sad remnants of laurence’s robes and ‘hello darkness my old frieeeeend’ starts playing in his head... too bad laurence isn’t really in a position to experience the relief

- He is very much a one-note character, but O’Dea’s resolute dedicated fatalism is extremely funny

- hahaha poor temeraire... when you try to introduce bae to the family and they insist on being TOTALLY EMBARRASSING god

- The guilt of having caused pain to one deserving only consideration at his hand mingled with unanswered disquiet. I’m bawling laurence’s dad instincts are so pure and good even tho everything’s a bit messed up right now. like this whole paragraph is so powerful b/c you can see laurence’s natural loving impulse at war with his dad’s cold authoritarian parenting style and because his lived experience is removed he doesn’t know what is right.............. oh b o y

- oh okay I see my earlier comment about the opium wars proves unexpectedly prophetic

- it cannot be overstated how much I love junichiro or how happy I am that laurence is being so soft and patient with him. this kid has Been Through some shit

- emily roland shoulder to shoulder with laurence killing fools and he never doubts her for a moment... *chef kiss emoji*  

- the problem with these books is that there are just so many good characters and so many of them don’t get any real page time in any given one -- I’m sitting here plaintively like ‘I realize this is not the most pressing issue right now but how is demane and sipho doing. are they okay. does sipho have enough books’

- ouch memory loss isn’t stopping laurence from flashing back to victory of eagles :(

there’s something so disconcerting about knowing why laurence reacts to things the way he does when he doesn’t; novik is using that very efficiently, this is a very satisfying use of amnesia just from a writer’s POV haha

- I like how none of these suckers really have the tools (or in some cases even inclination) to understand how messed up junichiro’s political situation is in all this

they just expect him to come home to britain with them and meanwhile he’s just found out that The greatest threat to his nation (from his POV I mean china/japan relations irl seem uh complicated) has more dragons in one field than he’s ever seen in his life. it’s a rough and lonely deal being this kid in this book

- oh ouch yes hey there laurence there might have been... a little bit of treason. true. extremely justified treason tho. I mean. oh dear

we don’t have tharkay and his unique mix of deep cynicism, incisive sarcasm and surprising depth of concise moral clarity here to assist with the aftermath so this could get  u g l y

- listen what did I SAY about making me read about temeraire being miserable     :(((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

- SIPHO!! hey baby boy pls have some thought for your brother’s cardiac health tho

- aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw the fact that laurence is getting out of this crisis so much quicker this time because of his bone-deep instinctual knowledge of how much he loves temeraire, which doesn’t need specific memories to be true and felt. god. jesus. stars above

- laurence: approaches little

little: gay panic

- [Laurence] groped after the truth of himself like a prisoner in Plato’s cave, watching shadows. *clenches fist with great emotion* fuck naomi novik why must you be such an excellent goddamn writer im in pain

- oh hay arkady

poor poor temeraire feeling like a failure in every way is so awful but also kind of funny. ‘oh shit arkady’s egg oh fuck oh crap’

- I LOVE that hammond is so clearly and repeatedly shown to be a very astute political thinker and working shit out before everyone else! he may be a dumbass and a bit of a weasel but by god he’s great at what he does!

- laurence wouldn’t have changed anything if he could u guise. I . that. hm. oh

- thARKAY

.........arkady I am only a human and a small one at that but I will find some way to climb up there and wring your neck

(how cute is it that apparently jane roland realized she needed someone to find laurence and was like ‘well I need someone who can take care of themselves and knows the area and speaks dragon and Understands the chaotic ways of william laurence and also has looked uncharacteristically like a kicked puppy at the very mention of his name ever since being forced to leave him behind in australia.... hey tharkay you want a job’ fhkjshdfkalhsd)

- I’m very glad I googled ahead and spoiled myself a bit on this, because if I just read this part fresh I would have expired on the spot

- MISSION GET MY BOY BACK SAFE FOR GOD’S SAKE is a go

- general chu is pretty cool for an old dude you feel me

- . . . and Laurence knew him; knew him and knew himself.

ahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha

hahahahahahahhahahahaha

hahahahhha

haha

what... what pure undiluted soulmate nonsense is this. what. how. WHY would you do this

- I think I said something offhandedly in my victory of eagles reactions about how tharkay makes laurence remember who he is. I. thought I was exaggerating slightly for dramatic effect at the time. um wow

- I am having the sort of feelings about I need to write fiction about because my ability to express it any other way is failing me. That’s just about the highest praise I could give, really, Novik sure knows how to plant interesting seeds in her stories lol

- for the record this is not how I wanted him to end up in laurence’s bed

(im not thinking too much about how he got hurt b/c if I do I’ll start crying and that’ll just be embarrassing for everyone)

- “I hope you will forgive my mentioning it, Will,” Tharkay said, eventually, rousing Laurence from his reverie. “ -- I recognize there is a certain pot-calling quality to my doing so under the circumstances, but have you noticed that the top of your head appears likely to come off?”

a) my love for him is just. so pure. so complete. so deep b) consistent first name basis; the one sure way to make me swoon c) the implication that he’s just been quietly watching laurence while he was lost in thought... im so soft

- oh god laurence very gently helping out demane and roland because he remembers now....... i cry and my tears are blood welcome back buddy

- “I am of the opinion,” Tharkay said, “that you ought not assign to free will something more likely the consequence of a sharp blow to the skull.”

he truly is the gift that keeps giving. an endless cornucopia of sarcasm and delight. we do not deserve him.  

- [The man he was eight years ago] would not have valued his own feelings, on such a matter, higher than the law and the discipline of the service. *AIRHORN AIRHORN AIRHORN* there we have it folks that’s literally his character arc spelled out, he would have done SO MUCH BAD SHIT because he thought his own feelings didn’t matter and yet he chose another direction, stupendous, brilliant, revolutionary

also him trying to get his support across to both of them in as roundabout and discreet way as possible... laurence you beautiful disaster

- im just so happ. so happy. so happy temeraire has his dumb dad back

- oh so the russians think the BRITISH, of all people, are too soft on their dragons... ruh-roh

- sdfskadlfj yes good tharkay the ROBES (also the implied depth of fond schadenfreude-tinged amusement contained in that ‘those particularly magnificent robes’.... *prayer hands emoji*)

laurence is like ET TU BABE?????

I think this is very delicate gong su speak for ‘please do not be a dumb bitch your majesty’

hahaha chu knows what’s up -- I am growing desperately fond of him, please don’t have him suffer any cop-one-day-from-retirement style accident

- “If I may cut your Gordian knot,” Tharkay said, with a glint in his eye. fdsklfhsdkflhdsakjfhdskjh remember back in black powder war when he was all closed off and phlegmatic and purposefully distant... and here he is... with a glint in his eye and a crazy ass plan that requires other people and that he actually shares before pulling it off and calling laurence by first name in public......... we’ve come so far

- Also this means he’s close enough to Laurence’s height and build that he can wear his clothes without it looking weird, which is nice to know because Laurence is sometimes more preoccupied with describing what men are wearing than, y’know, what they look like lol. (probably not quite as broad in the shoulders, tho, since it’s pointed out every time laurence is described that he has shoulders like a linebacker)

- temeraire: eXCUSE me god didn’t do this the emperor of china did???!?! rude???

- pffffffffff tharkay and chu being jaded world-weary bros for a second there... this is what I read these books for folks

- NOOOOOOOOOOO chu this is the one thing I asked you NOT to do D: temeraire being sad and scared about it is slowly murdering me, thank god laurence is back online for him

- dunno this napoleon dude sounds pretty great and all but this also sounds suspiciously... like trying to invade russia in the winter time. immovable force and unstoppable object or something. I mean I don’t read history so I don’t know. might be a great idea. who’s to say.

- I see that tharkay and laurence have reached the ‘communicating complex information solely through eyebrow movements’ stage of their relationship. *drinks this excellent excellent OTP juice with both hands*

- god I love how cool temeraire!napoleon is, in a strangely believable way. he’s just so weirdly charismatic and novik is SO GOOD at setting up a situation so you understand just how brilliant a move he’s made whenever he seems to be backed into a corner and turns it all around. I kind of want him to win at this point (though tbf all of europe fucking sucked at this time so like he doesn’t have to doll it up TOO much to look better by comparison haha)

- boooyyyy Laurence is P I S S E D (also him being like ??? :D that the general basically agreed with him lol)

ALSO also the fact that laurence does not realize that he’s like the fucking horror story all the major authorities around the globe tell each other at night... fjksdfhsdkjlhf

ah russia. truly consistently one of the most shit places to be a peasant or apparently a dragon through so much of history.

- junichiro Y__________Y no wonder laurence is so protective of him, he’s finally met someone as stubbornly stupidly ~*honorable*~ as himself. godspeed bb boy I wish you only the best even though I know your story line is never properly brought up again

- I ship... roland and demane... so much. like with my heart. she’s so young and earnest and curious and misses him so much and casually scandalizes alice about it fsjdakfjhds

- well I mean. dragons eating people is clearly not  g r e a t  but also... karma. y’know?

- this is a lot of words to use to convey the sentiment ‘oh they are all so fuuuuuuuuuuuuucked’ naomi novik

(feels a little like she wrote herself into a corner here tho -- she’s set up such an impossible situation, in RUSSIA in the WINTERTIME, that I’d need a hell of a lot of convincing to believe they get out of it)

- aaaah okay I really enjoyed this one too, especially the first half! I feel like this series is often at its most inspired when it sticks to a tighter character focus (for example I still vividly recall the part in the first book where Laurence stays in his father’s house and it’s Bad. relatedly........ F U C K lord allendale), and this brought that in spades. I love this series so much, it’s shamefully underappreciated in the speculative fiction world.

also it brought *me* to my knees with a simple “Tenzing,” [Laurence] said, which... holy shit. fuck. damn. that’s my personal recommendation of this book, tbh, even beyond my wish for this series to be more appreciated within the genre: Tharkay was there and it was very gay and non-obnoxious soulmate vibes???? I never even thought it could be done but here we are

This is probably going to be my last reaction thingy for the foreseeable future, since my local library doesn’t have book 9 and honestly... having read a few summaries of what happens in it I’m not that keen on reading it? That’s not the ending to this story I want, so I’ll just live over here in denialville, I-realize-the-author-made-the-choice-to-not-make-further-use-of-Lien-AKA-THE-coolest-antagonist-in-this-series-and-indeed-did-not-wrap-up-numerous-character-arcs-or-plot-lines-but-I-don’t-like-this-choice-so-I’ll-ignore-it

(actually I do sort of appreciate the idea of not having one grand final duel or something, because that’s not how it usually works in real life, but that she’d just shrug and not mercilessly hunt for the revenge she’s so clearly motivated by when everything she loves is falling apart around her again... that’s too much of a letdown to bear, really)

let me just... live in willful ignorance and pretend anything could happen from this point onward haha.

- let me give a final shout out to my boy gong su, who’s been hanging around since book 2 (!) and yet we do not know One Single personal detail about him for certain except that he sure knows how to handle knives. that’s some good spy shit right there, he knows what he’s about