#but I think it’s more impressive that he threaded together clues that had nothing to do with him whatsoever

[feelingtheaster99]

Let’s fucking gooooo, Riz! Way to pick up on the clues!

[wyyvernn]

Adrian (Alucard) Tepes x gender neutral reader

CW: Very suggestive themes, implied smut, possessive-ish behaviour, blood drinking - minors dni

Just a heads up that I wrote Alucard pretty dominant in this one for i usually don't write him as such :3

Summary: You challenge Alucard to a chase in the woods and things get a little more wild than you initially thought it would.

Words: 2,109

Art by me (i told ya i would draw some art for the fic ;)

It was foolish to think that you, a mere human could hide or worse yet, outrun your dhampir lover.

But it's to your luck that the dewy air of the woods is particularly thick this sunny afternoon, and the sunlight has only penetrated the first few layers of leaves in the trees above, creating a beautiful golden pattern on the ground below.

The shadows of the forest are a fortunate benefit, they work to hide your frame behind bushes and thin branches. It's a light advantage that only brings you a shred of satisfaction until you hear leaves crunch on the ground nearby.

It's only a few moments until Alucard comes into view in all his radiant glory. His cape sits proudly over his shoulders and comes all the way down to drag along the ground as he surveys the area. It's the second time you've had the pleasure of seeing him as his usual beautiful self today, the first waking up to his tender face in the morning.

He's been skulking about the woods, howling all morning to hear how far his voice travels in attempt to detect any movement in his canine form. It must've worked if it lead him straight to you.

You clench your body in a tight little ball, keeping out of sight behind a bush that thankfully covers much of your being, even if the thought of knowing you will be found shortly, staying hidden still provides some comfort.

Time passes like a river's gentle flow and Alucard hasn't moved in what feels like hours, still welcoming the open air to his face, still watching your direction for any movement. He knows you're there but he doesn't want to pursue yet.

What impressed him the most was the wild goose chase you forced him to take part of. He took note of the many times you marked your scent on a tree only to turn and run in the opposite direction. That made him smile, he liked that touch you added - it seems you know your opponent well.

Then there was an odd series of broken sticks all piled upon each other in a small opening of the forest - serving no purpose other than to distract him, which effectively worked. You like to imagine the confused quirk of his brow, his mind pummelling deep into trying to decipher what it meant, looking it over for a good few minutes to see if there was a clue to your whereabouts only to realise in disappointment that it was nothing, a mere hindrance in his pursuit. A frustrated snort would follow making you snicker in your head.

You've definitely made yourself a worthy opponent. You may not be able to outrun or overpower him, but your wit has proved to be an exciting weapon to the game. Alucard feels that when he finally catches you and the longer the game lasts, he'll grow more ravenous and the more rewarding his prize will be.

The tension between the bush and his predatory gaze is as stable as worn fabric, held together only by a bit of frail thread. His amber eyes narrow into slits, never averting them away from the shrub as it sways softly from the warm afternoon breeze.

Your lungs burn in need of release, they ache to take in oxygen while your heart hammers in your chest like a herd of trampling horses. The adrenaline pumping in your veins fuels your desire to run yet you stay firmly hidden.

And when he does finally turn around, a long withheld gasp exhales from your throat, a sound of relief but a definite mistake. Alucard halts a portion in his step, his golden waves no longer bounce leisurely against his back, in fact, when his body rotates, the crunch of his boots on the red leaves feels ominous.

This is it, you think and your hands ball dirt into your fists out of frustration. This is it and the day isn't even over yet.

With gradual foot falls, he inches closer by the second, his slender legs sweeping the ground in long strides. As he approaches, the only thing spinning through your mind is to dash up and take off.

So you do exactly that, however futile it might be.

Your pursuer wastes no time in breaking out into a sprint after you, but you can tell he's holding back to broaden the game.

His laughter fills the air behind you and you can't help to let go of a few sputters of giggles in return.

You blindly dived further into the forest, your feet creating a ruckus as they kick up debris.

Alucard has no trouble catching up, but it's only when you zigzag between trees, stumbling from side to side does he actually find a challenge worth fighting. You stop behind one to catch your breath, hands bracing flat against the trunk and it becomes a game of peeking at each other from each edge of the bark. He follows your actions, playfully sneaking a few looks on the opposite side. You mirror his smirk as you finally hold his gaze, either one of you watching, daring the other to make a move as the suspense lingers in the air. Slowly, you back away from the tree and Alucard effortlessly curls around it, walking in your footsteps.

He chuckles once more as you turn and break out into a sprint again, dodging more trees and jumping over logs. He predicts that you'll exhaust yourself quicker before he catches you.

He's absolutely correct.

You come to a halt in a small opening in the forest with your hands held out in front of you in defence, your lungs heaving one large breath as you turn to face him. He barely looks out of breath, the arrogant prick. His arms come to cross over his broad chest with a rather satisfied smirk plastered on his lips.

"Alright..." you inhale, sucking in many generous breaths, "Alright, let's just stop for a bit and...hah...bloody hell..."

"I caught you."

"You didn't catch me, Adrian..." you retort faintly, motioning your finger back and forth between the distance of your positions, "this doesn't count."

Alucard's brows rise, quite amused by your display as you drop your hands to settle on your knees instead, heaving one final breath before you rise back up.

"Well I suppose even if it did count... you certainly took your sweet ass time finding me, didn't you?" You start, mockingly, loving the way his brows crease together, "I mean you would expect a dhampir to have better senses than a human but that was really...pathetic."

Alucard begins a slow pace, stalking towards you as your legs retreat in retaliation. His arms unwind, coming back down by his sides, a gesture that unsettles you in your brief moment of defiance. What terrifies you more, though, is the flaring of his cape blowing away in the wind behind him, the dark garment outlining his tall frame in a frightening manner.

"Excuse me?" he tilts his head, almost offended. Almost, because you know that's clearly not true and this is all still very much a part of the game.

Swallowing your nervousness, you manage to crack a wicked smile. You steel your back with each step taken backwards, watching him for any sudden movements.

"You heard me... old man-"

The moment the words leave your mouth, a flash of red highlights his body leaving no time for you to react. You feel as light as a feather, handled like nothing as you're swiftly urged up against a tree trunk. Amber irises swarm with lust and gleam with an uncharacteristic sense of intimidation, Alucard leans in close, his threatening breath grazing your ears.

"Does this count?"

Unable to do anything, he pins your arms above you while you squirm about in his grasp, smugly grinning down on you. When you don't say anything, he hums, quite satisfied by your shocked silence.

"Now I do believe it's time to claim my prize," his free hand leaves your wrists to graze down your arm where every chilling touch of his finger leaves goose bumps over your flesh. He slides the digit to your chin where he lifts it gently, causing you to directly gaze into his sensual eyes.

You expect him to claim your lips right there, but he hardly seems to be in a rush, intent on teasing you first. A sudden moan escapes your lips only to feel the weight of his knee pressing in between your legs on your lower region. You tried to muffle your sounds by turning your face into your shoulder but that only revealed a full display of your neck, giving clean access to the dhampir who sighed in response.

Encouraged by your whimpers, his knee moved harder as he approached your skin. As his mouth aligned up with your neck, his lips pulled back to reveal his fangs before he sunk them into your flesh, pain flooding in that area until it morphed into a sweet, comforting pleasure. Instinctively, you arched your spine, curling your body into him as he drank hungrily from you like a mad man.

The taste of your blood, the smoothness of it and the warmth pouring down his throat all at once set his skin on fire. He could feel it sticking to his tongue like a thick syrup as he lapped up every drop, savouring every note of its taste that made his head fuzzy and his eyes roll back in delight. He'd never had anything so divine between his taste buds, never having the good privilege of such a luxurious prey presented before him so openly.

He groaned a deep purr, the vibrations travelling all over your body and to the depths of your very core, making you shudder. It was such an unusual thing of Alucard, almost as if he had gone...feral. Even the way his eyes glowed with flares of the sun or his voice spoke in a low, sultry tone - it felt like something else took over...did he spend too much time in his wolf form? Was that taking a toll on his mind? Were his natural instincts on his father's side activated as soon as you kicked off? They all seemed like pretty reasonable theories.

His lips pulled back from your neck with an audible smack but not before he dragged the tip of his tongue to gather that last bead of blood, relishing it like the finest wine. There was a defined mark he left behind, two bright red puncture wounds and a lingering ring of pink around them that would surely grow purple in less than an hour.

"I want to take you right here, right now. I would devour you whole against this tree if I pleased...and you would allow it."

"You seem so sure of yourse- mmph"

You're immediately cut off as he slams his lips onto yours, unwrapping his hands from your wrists to now settle on your hips instead, allowing you to encircle your arms around his shoulders.

It's the first time Alucard has shown such thirst for dominance and a lack in mercy. Usually you're the one having your way with him, usually it's you who plucks and plays with his body, doing all the right things to make him squirm beneath you. Now you're the one shoved against a tree, now as he hooks his palms beneath your thighs and urges them to wrap around his waist, effectively deepening the kiss, you realise you're the one squirming beneath him.

You think maybe it's the fact that you told him to be as wild as he wants this morning, maybe if you told him to be a little gentler he would allow you to breathe.

But as your tongues entwine and your hands busy themselves in his hair, it becomes increasingly more difficult to care about how breathless you are or how dishevelled your clothes are, whether or not your neckline is hanging half way down your shoulders and Alucard withdrawing his lips from yours to tuck back into your neck.

His fangs don't break your skin again, not yet. Instead, he leaves a kiss there, forming a risqué smile.

"I am sure of myself," he whispers, finishing your sentence before he so rudely interrupted you.

Alucard sets your legs down again only to properly lift your body into his arms, his mind already made up as he heads back home. You yelp in delight and shock, instinctively grabbing onto his cape.

"And you will enjoy what comes next, back at my castle."

A/n: I remember starting this some time last year wowow i have like two more drafts from then as well asfffdsf *procrastination intensifies*

[milliedazzledust]

Viens, Embrasse moi (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request by @husherstan​: One Shot with Bucky Barnes in which he and the reader are spies. Idk if you watched The Man From Uncle - American and Russian spies together to get an intel. They hate each other and have all that sexual tension. Based on the song ,,Les Yeux Noirs" by Pomplamoose (I have no idea what the lyric says) where they dance to prove who is the best.

Words: 4.689 words

A/N: I spent the last couple of days listening to tango, Pomplamoose and the ost of tfatws, I guess I was inspired coz this is super long so be aware. Thank you for that request - I’m really self-conscious about my writing so I’ll hope you’ll it! (ps: the title mean “come and kiss me”)

The mission was simple. Get inside the mansion during a fancy party by some rich man, retrieve valuable informations about Hydra’s whereabouts and get the hell out of there. Steve had decided to pair Bucky and Y/N for this. Two spies with specific skillsets that he knew would get the job done. This is why they had landed in Paris earlier that day.

They had taken a hotel room inside the infamous Le Meurice, courtesy of Tony Stark. He thought it was hilarious to provoke them since he knew they didn’t particularly like each other. That was what everybody thought, except Natasha. She had told Y/N she could see right through their games. The frustration and the tension together were a ticking time bomb that would either lead to one of them dead or both of them in a bed.

They hadn’t talked to each other the whole flight, they were too busy studying the blueprints of the mansion they would infiltrate, rehearsing their role and getting into character to care about annoying one another.   Bucky had ditched the uniform for a white shirt and a black tie. His suit jacket slung over a chair next to the luxurious bathroom where Y/N was getting ready.

“What is taking you so long ?” Bucky complained as he sat on the bed, putting on his cuffs.

He heard the bathroom door opening behind him.

“Gotta look the part if we want to blend in” The woman smirked.

The moment he saw her, he froze. If there was an undeniable truth he would never lie about, it was her haunting beauty. She was breathtaking. She had chosen to wear a provocative dress that night, a dark shade of green falling of her shoulders, putting the tattoo on her back on full display. It was made of silk, so soft Bucky swore he could feel his fingertips aching to run through the material. The high-length skirt sat perfectly on her curves and the Sergeant gulped when his eyes trailed down her leg. The dress was slit to the middle of her thigh. He could almost see the knife strapped around her muscles, hidden just under the satin gown. His gaze finally stopped on her high heels, admiring the whole outfit. She looked feminine yet deadly and had a confident glow, a radiance he could feel across the room. She was captivating.

She sniggered, pleased by his reaction. Like a wolf hunting his prey, she walked up to him without hurry. He was still sitting on the bed, his eyes glued to her body, following her every move. His mouth was dry, no word were enough to describe how mesmerizing he thought she looked. Without breaking their gaze, she started to undo his tie. Making it roll agonizingly slow around his neck, she tossed it on the bed. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat when she opened up the first two buttons of his shirt.  

“That’s better” She whispered, adjusting his collar. He shivered when her fingers grazed his skin and tried to hide it with a cough, but she could see right through him.

“You look …”

“What ?” She coyly cut him, a hint of defiance in her voice. “Sexy ? Ravishing ? Yeah, I know”

She had a glint in her eyes he couldn’t miss. She was enjoying his bewilderment.

“Pick up your jaw off the floor, Barnes. We’ve got work to do”

And with one last cheeky smile, she was on her way out. He shook his head vigorously, swearing under his breath, before grabbing his jacket and following her to their rental car.

Nestled in the woodland, away from the noises of the city, was the mansion. It wall all concrete and tall glass windows. The architecture made it seem a few centuries old and Y/N stopped for a short moment to admire the gigantic house surrounded by trees.

“And here I thought nothing could impress you” Bucky joked as he noticed her interest.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, letting him lead her to the entrance. Before they could step inside the venue, a man in a grey suit stopped Bucky, putting a hand on his chest to prevent him from coming in. The Sergeant tensed, hoping he hadn’t been recognized. He had told Steve earlier that day that it might be a mistake to send him inside a place filled by Hydra agents. Even with the fresh haircut, somebody that knew the Winter Soldier could have easily recognized him.

“Votre invitation, Monsieur “ (your invite sir)

Bucky didn’t move an inch. He coldly starred back at the man, not understanding a single word of french.

“Il est avec moi” (he’s with me) Y/N quickly answered.

As soon as the man turned to look at her, his whole demeanor changed. With a smirk on his face, he eyes the woman up and down. By the way he licked his lips and he puffed his chest, she could easily guess he liked what he saw. She faintly heard Bucky grunt but ignored it. Seductively, she put a hand on the stranger’s shoulder and brought her face near to his.

“Pour être tout à fait honnête, il n’est pas de très bonne compagnie” (if i’m honest, he’s not very good company) She told him without a trace of an accent.

The man snickered.

“Puis-je demander le nom d’une si belle créature ?” (can I ask the name of such a beautiful creature?)

She smiled, pretending to be pleased to talk to him.

“Eléonore Charbonnier” She introduced herself with a name that wasn’t her own, faking shyness.

“Bienvenue, Madame Charbonnier. C’est un plaisir de vous avoir parmi nous ce soir” (Welcome, Miss Charbonnier. It’s a pleasure to have you tonight) He replied, bringing her hand to his lips before kissing it lightly.

She was playing with her hair, drawing his attention and Bucky didn’t like one bit to just stand there, silent, without a clue of what they were talking about.

“Tout le plaisir est pour moi” (The pleasure is all mine) She attractively responded with a lopsided grin.

She exchanged one last look with the french man and took a step inside. Bucky followed her closely, but not without one last threatening stare toward the stranger.

“That went smoothly” She congratulated herself.

“What ? You flirting with him or him eye-fucking you ?”

She laughed at his irritation.

“Such a potty mouth you have, Sergeant” She joked.

He responded with an unpleasing grunt before offering her his arm as they stepped into what seemed to be a ballroom. The place was enormous with a checkered floor contrasting with the golden walls. Crystal chandeliers spiraled down from the ceiling, illuminating the room while marble pillars surrounded it, carrying a large upstairs balcony. The place was already filled with wealthy people, all potentials investors for Hydra. Bucky glanced around the room, trying to spot the organization’s agents hiding among the guests.

“How are we going to get to the second floor ?” Y/N asked him discreetly.

“We mingle”

She raised an eyebrow.

“That’s your plan ?”

They were aware of the noises and the crowd but even more so of the curious stares in their direction.

“Alright” She shrugged. “Let’s dance”

“No” He quickly replied, which made her smile.

She turned to look at him and playfully tilted her head.

“No as in you can’t dance … or you don’t want to ?” She elatedly riposted.

“Both” He grunted, quickly glancing at anything but her.

He groaned when he saw how amused she was by the situation.

“My, my … and here I thought there was nothing Bucky Barnes couldn’t do”

He took a tentative step toward her, placing his metal hand on the small of her back. They were now inches apart and the attraction between them became a tangible thread in the air before any of them could speak a word.

“Now is not the time to play, doll” He muttered. She didn’t know if it was his tone, his proximity or his hand moving slightly lower, but she felt the premises of desire starting to form in the pit of her stomach.

“Steve should’ve paired me with Sam. At least he’s fun” She provocatively replied.

Her answer had an immediate response. He instantly stepped back, removing his hand from her body. She watched him closely, pleased when he pursed his lips with exasperation.

“You owe me a dance” She added and winked at him.

He gave her a dirty look and she chuckled before looking around the room, trying to think of something to get upstairs without being noticed.

“There’s literally one guard blocking the access” She stated seriously.

“Think you can distract him ?” Bucky asked.

“Consider it done.”

With one last glance, she moved to one of the waiter, grabbing a glass of champagne. Leaving Bucky behind, she took a sip of her beverage, seductively playing with her hair, swaying her hips until she was almost in front of her target. She knew he was already looking at her, she could feel his eyes on her body. Pretending to lose her balance right when he was next to her, she let him catch her in his arms.

“Oh my god ! I’m so sorry !” She apologized.

“Are you alright, Madame ?” He asked her with a thick accent.

“Yes, just a bit dizzy” She answered with an alluring chuckle.

She noticed his hands on her hips, she knew he didn’t let them there to keep her steady. When she looked up at him, she purposely bit her lips and placed a strategic hand on his arm. She saw the man gulp and smiled. It was working.

“You look …” He didn’t finish his sentence but instead put one of his hand way lower than it should have been. If it was anybody else, she would have break every fingers of that hand, but right now, it was exactly the reaction she was hoping for.

She glanced back at Bucky, who was fuming. The guard caught that and tried to turn his head to see what was distracting her, but before he could do that, she kissed him. Slowly, without an ounce of passion and with force she pressed her body against his. Her eyes stayed open, and she watched Bucky taking advantage of the situation by sneaking behind the french man and quickly getting upstairs. Once she was sure he was out of sight, she took a step back. She cleared her throat, smoothing her dress.

“I should go freshen up” She shyly told him, fluttering her lashes.

“There’s a bathroom upstairs” He offered.

She smirked. She knew her plan would work.

“Merci” (thank you) She told him with a fake accent.

She climbed the stairs, pretending to look for something, while the guard resume his position. Bucky was already waiting for her in the hallway, standing against a wall where no one could spot them.

“Did you have to kiss him ?” He inquired, infuriated, as she joined him.

“If I remember correctly, you told me to distract him”

“With your lips ?” He ironically continued.

She chuckled, her fingers fiddling with his jacket. She slowly leaned toward him, her red lips tentatively grazing his cheek.

“Careful, Barnes, one might think you’re jealous” She whispered against his ear.

He rolled his eyes.

“I don’t get jealous, doll”

She smirked, lowering her eyes on his lips.

“You keep telling yourself that”

“I’m just saying …” He kept talking as they walked to their destination. “Stop flirting with every man we come across”

“Is that an order, Sergeant ?” She knew she was on thin ice and she loved every minute of it.

He groaned. He was exasperated and she could see how much it drove him crazy. It had been that way for months now, they were always bickering, ready to bite each others head off.

Walking strategically through the corridor, they knew exactly where they were going. They had studied the place. Behind one of the doors was Hydra secret files on the super soldier serum and their experiment to create more Winter Soldier. The mission was to retrieve those informations to thwart their plan.

They had no trouble finding what they were looking for. From outside, what seemed to be an abandoned storage room was in fact a huge chamber with computer equipments and piles of files. For a second, Y/N thought it was unusual there was no one to guard the place before she silently followed Bucky inside. While he was looking through the papers, she took the flash drive she had hidden in her cleavage and plugged it into a computer. It was a malware designed by Stark to discreetly sneak inside their files, break every firewall and find their secret without leaving a trace.

“Anything interesting ?” She interrogated Bucky while Stark’s program was doing its magic.

He looked up from what he was reading and she visibly saw him gulp and shut the file he had in his hands.

“Nothing that I didn’t know of already”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“Why don’t I believe you ?” She accused him, backing up against a desk.

“Because you're a spy” He answered truthfully. “You don’t trust anyone but yourself”

She hummed.

“And that’s exactly why I know you’re hiding something” She continued, crossing her arms at his reluctancy.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. She could see his jaw tightening and his fists clenching. For some reason, he was getting angry at her. She tilted her head, curious at his reaction. Without a word, she raised an arm, opening her hand. It was a silent request to give her the file he was reading, which he eventually did.

She started to read and realized it wasn’t about the Winter Soldier initiative but about the Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and what had happened to him in details after he fell off a train in 1945. She didn’t go through the end of the first page and shut it before handling back to the man in front of her.

“You’re not reading it ?” He questioned.

“No. If you want to talk about it, you will.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t need to know the details of a procedure you’d rather forget”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her actions. He was expecting her to be more curious and try to prey informations out of him, but instead she just stood there and gave him an honest smile.

“Don’t look so flabbergasted, Barnes. I might be a spy but I’m not cruel”

“It’s just … I wasn’t expecting that”

“Expecting what ?” She asked, turning back to the computer.

“…To be given the choice not to talk about it”

She was shook by the force of his sincerity for a moment, but didn’t comment. It was rare for Bucky to share anything this personal with her. They had work quite a lot together, but it was always teasing and bickering. This was different. She could just guess it by the way he was looking back at her. He cared about her and valued her opinions and judging by his gaze, she had just given him a reason to trust her a little more. He suddenly cleared his throat, somehow embarrassed, and she grinned.

“All done” She declared, showing him the flash drive.

“Good. Let’s get out of here”

Just as he said it, an alarm started to ring inside the room. Both of them tensed, suddenly anxious.

“What is that ?” He groaned.

“They know we’re here”

“Shit”

She hid the flash drive in her cleavage before slowly backing against the wall next to their exit.

“So much for being invisible” She muttered under her breath.

Bucky half opened the door, picking outside to see what they would be up against. Armed men were already scattering the hallway, ready to launch the assault. He quickly closed it back, his expression now a mix between worry and annoyance.

“They’re at least six of them waiting for us” He informed her.

She secretly hoped they would avoid a situation like that but seeing as they had no other choice, she mentally prepared herself to give them hell. Bucky watched her with wide eyes when he saw her tearing her dress in half, making room to move freely.

“What the hell are you doing ?!”

“Mingling” She simply answered, repeating what he had told her earlier, before taking the knife attached to her thigh.

Bucky grabbed the handle and glanced back at Y/N one last time before the fight. They shared a knowing look, both of them reassuring the other with a silent nod. As soon as he opened the door, the gunshot started. The music and the people downstairs were a slight contrast to what was happening, the noises were loud enough to cover the sound of bullets shot across the room.

It wasn’t unfamiliar territory for Y/N or Bucky, they were used to fighting. Doing it together was different though. They had discovered they were a pretty good match on a battlefield. It almost felt like a quick pace tango, a choreography only they knew about. Bucky watched her smirk, and she saw him wink. They were about to give them a taste of their talent.

She let the Sergeant go first, knowing his brute force and especially his vibranium arm would most likely knock some of them out. One of them dodged her partner and went right to her. She blocked every of his punches and flipped the knife she had in her hand, stabbing the man in the gut. She rolled upside down, making him fall on the floor, unconscious. Another one tried to take advantage of the situation and decided to kick her. She twirled around, blocking him before hitting his chest with her heel, knocking him out of breath. From the corner of her eyes, she saw two of them going after Bucky. The agents would have had the time to attack, but all it took was a look between the Avengers and Y/N threw her blade at the Sergeant. He grabbed it mid-air and less than thirty seconds later, the men were on the ground, bleeding to death.

She started to make a movement toward her next target when she felt an arm wrapping around her waist. It all happened too fast. All she felt was the bullet touching her shoulder before her body was pushed against a wall and the men were out cold. Normally, she would have resisted but instinctively, she recognized the musky scent of Bucky’s colognes and the cold sensation of his metal hand against her hip. She realized he had shoved her out of the way when one of their opponents had fired, aiming directly at her.

“Are you alright ?” He whispered, making her shudder.

He was so close she could feel his heart beating. He was towering her, shielding her body with his own. The situation was quite ludicrous. They were surrounded by men they had just taken down but none of them seemed to care. She opened her mouth to demand that he release her, but the words never formed. His chest flushed against hers, he was slowly invading her senses. They were both exhausted by the effort, and his staggered breath was enough to send a fire coursing through her body. She risked a peek at his face and swallowed when she saw his blue eyes darkening with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t look at me like that” He spoke with such intensity she shivered.

She licked her dry lips before speaking.

“Like what ?” She teased.

Bending his head, he buried his nose in her neck. She struggled at the proximity, purely a reflex. He answered by pulling her even closer. He looked up at her again, his mouth hovering a few inches from hers. Every nerve ending inside her was screaming for his touch but she didn’t move, simply stared at him. She wasn’t going to kiss him, but there was still a strange satisfaction flowing around them, pleased that they were just as susceptible to the treacherous desire between them. She could see it in his dark crystal-blue eyes, in the thundering beat of his heart and his metal hand, possessively holding her, gently stroking her covered skin.

“You’re bleeding” He said after a while, his gaze falling on her wounded shoulder.

She didn’t even turn to assess the damage and kept her eyes focused on him.

“I’ve had worse” She told him, voice filled with need and desire.

“Y/N…” He warned her.

His human hand crept into her hair. He was inexplicably drawn to her, she was intoxicating. When he traced a path over her cheek with his thumb, she closed her eyes, savoring the moment.

“Fuck” He cursed under his breath.

He kissed her temple, the movement so gentle yet so significantly filled with unsaid feelings. They heard noises, more people coming their way, and just like that their frozen time was up. He took the piece of cloth she had torn apart and wrapped it around her bleeding shoulder quickly before grabbing her hand and leading her toward their escape route.

She followed him without protesting. He led her to a window and both of them jumped. The car wasn’t far and they sprinted to get to it. They could already hear the agents rushing, they had to hurry. Bucky glanced rapidly in Y/N’s direction, making sure she was alright. The blood had started to flow on her arm through her made up bandage of clothing. She simply nodded her head to reassure him. They drove in silence, checking every now and then that no one was following them. Apart from the altercation, the mission was a success. No one had recognized them and they had what they were looking for. Worn out and a bit dizzy from the loss of blood, Y/N let herself relax and yawned. Bucky felt himself breath a little better now that they were out of harm’s way and surprised himself when a smile spread across his face at the sleepy form of his partner.

Later that night, they safely got to their hotel room. Completely tired, Y/N let herself fall on the bed. She watched Bucky from the corner of her eyes heading to the bathroom. He came back with a few items and silently sat next to her. He unfastened the cloth around her arm without looking at her or asking her permission and opened a bottle of alcohol. When he poured it on her injury, she hissed. She tried to push back, a reflex to get away from the pain, but instantly stopped when she felt his cold hand keeping her in place. She glanced down at her shoulder and studied the wound.

“Doesn’t look too bad” She inspected.

“The bullet didn’t do any damage”

“Good” She sighed, falling back on the bed.

She watched him clean it then wrapped it up with gauze. He was methodic, every movements seemed rehearse, like he had done it many times before.

“Thank you, Bucky” She murmured.

She saw the corner of his mouth rising, forming a small grin he was trying to hide. Without a word, he stood up and started to walk around the room. Y/N observed him curiously, wondering what he was doing. She sat back against the headboard of the bed and followed his moves. He stopped next to the door and dimmed the light.

“What are you doing ?” She asked, half amused, half confused.

He held up a finger, silently telling her to wait. He took out his phone and suddenly music filled the room. He discarded his jacket, tossing it in a corner of the room, rolling up his sleeves. That simple action was enough to raise the temperature of her body. He was aware of her hungry gaze on his muscles, following his movement and didn’t miss the way she bit her lips. He slowly walked to the side of the bed, right next to her, raising his metal hand toward her.

“What is this ?” She interrogated him, her voice so small she wasn’t sure he heard.

“You said it yourself, I owe you a dance”

She starred back with doubtful eyes but took his hand nonetheless. He led her to the center of the room and began to slowly sway with her.

“La bohème” She recognized the song.

“You said you loved it”

“Didn’t think you’d remember”

“It might come as a shock, Agent Y/L/N, but I do pay attention” He flirtatiously sniggered.

Her breath caught in her throat when he pulled her closer and sneaked an arm around her waist. Spinning and circles and shuffling his feet to the rhythm, he made her laugh. He surprised himself thinking he wished he could carve that sound into his head and never forget it. They danced together, their body close, and she knew she must have been blushing. It only made his smile grew bigger. He stood looking down at her with a hint of danger in his eyes. There was so much more she saw in him than an experiment and a super soldier, but she would never admit that. For some reason, she wanted to find a flaw in him, something that would level the field between them. Until she realized that with him, all bets were off.

“I’m not sure I like that” She said, hating the note of anxiety in her voice.

“What ? Dancing ?”

“Us not being at each others throat” She sincerely answered. “But I’ll admit, you’re a pretty bad dancer”

She felt the rumble of his chuckle against her body.

“You can still fight me if you’re up for it” He replied, smirking down at her. She smacked his chest and he pretended to be hurt for a second. She rolled her eyes at his antics.

He made her twirl and she felt an adrenaline rush when he drew her close to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and made a movement to brush her hair away but his hand stopped hers. Instead he carefully laid it on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying about my dancing ?” He smirked as he made her spin once again.

“That you had no sense of rhythm” She joked.

He laughed and dropped his head, studying her.

“I like it” He confessed, an answer to what she had admitted earlier.

A surprising sense of comfort suddenly settled in her stomach at his admission.

“This stays between us, Barnes” She warned him.

“Is that a threat ?” He laughed.

“Exactly” She whispered, laying her head against his chest as they continued to move together, too lost in the music to halt. “One word to Steve and you’ll be on the wrong end of my knife”

She felt his smile when he lowered his head to kiss the naked skin on her uninjured shoulder.

“You have my word, Agent Y/L/N” He winked. “And just so you know, I’m a better dancer than you are”

“No you’re not”

“I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong”

“Is that your way of asking me out ?” She smugly smiled with a hint of seductiveness in her tone.

“Maybe… is it working ?”

“I still haven’t decided if I want to fight you yet”

He grinned, he couldn’t help himself but felt at ease around the dangerous woman. After a while, they stopped moving. Bucky felt her body relaxing and her weight getting more heavy as she started to fall asleep against him. He buried his nose in her hair, closing his eyes to enjoy their moment out of time. When he was certain the woman was asleep, he carried her to the bed. He made sure she was comfortable enough under the covers, taking extra precaution not to touch her wound. Then he sat next to her, already knowing the moment they would get back, he would go to Steve for advices. She would be mad, most likely with a newfound desire to kill him. They would probably fight, but strangely that perspective only made his smile. He was ready to wrestle if it meant they would both win in the end.

[buddiebeginz]

After reading this thread that does a good job giving a quick run down on Buck and Eddie’s journey up until this point like where they’ve been separately and where they are now, I got to thinking about some things especially where Ana and Taylor are concerned.

I was so frustrated earlier in the season when I felt like the show kept shoving Ana and Taylor in our faces and I kept thinking that this was the shows way of saying Buddie was doa and they were moving on but I don’t think that’s the case at all anymore. While it might have seemed on the surface that Eddie and Buck were off doing their own separate things when you look at season 4 as a whole everything with the guys as been connected especially the stuff with Ana and Taylor. They weren’t brought back so Eddie and Buck could have separate love interests they were brought back around the same time as part of Buddie’s journey toward getting together.

---

Ana and Eddie’s relationship really starts in 4x06 Jinx which is telling enough as it is. It’s also in this ep that Eddie keeps trying to prove that he doesn’t believe in supernatural forces. Meanwhile it’s Buck who tells him “it’s like the universe is screaming at you and you refuse to listen”.

Both Ana and Taylor are in Breaking Point 4x08

It’s fitting that this episode is called Breaking Point because I think the show runners knew this episode would piss some fans off but I think that was the point in a way. I think a lot of the stuff with Ana and Taylor in this episode and thought out season 4 really was meant to be a red herring.

We’re reintroduced to Taylor and we see her and Buck become friends although it’s clear we’re meant to think this could go somewhere by that kiss at the end. Ana and Eddie go on a date and at the end he brings her to see Christopher, a pretty uncharacteristic move for him given the pandemic and Chris’ health. This is another way I believe the show was trying to trick us into believing that these relationships were going somewhere.

Plus in an episode that was chocked full of Buck and Eddie off with other people we still had Buddie always on the periphery like when Eddie came home to Buck, a pretty symbolic moment. Then you had Buck and Eddie at the stand off. Buck complaining to everyone who would listen about Albert and Veronica (even though he couldn’t care less about Veronica) and Eddie admitting he didn’t know how to tell Christopher he was dating Ana. The show focusing on both of their love lives but interestingly enough not showing them talking to each other about their problems when they’re supposed to be best friends.

There was a really important scene with Buck talking to Taylor where he admitted that he felt ready to meet someone and “start a meaningful relationship” and Taylor tells him “I’ve met the people you work with your life is nothing but meaningful relationships”. Interesting choice of words there. To which Buck says, “doesn’t seem the same”. Taylor then tells him “do you ever think you need to be patient and let the universe come to you” a line that mirrors what was said in Jinx. So both Buck and Eddie were being told in season 4 that they needed to listen to the universe, ostensibly the signs around them.

Now at the time the show sort of frames this as Buck and Taylor maybe flirting like maybe the signs are pointing towards Taylor, but I think it was just another misdirect because when you put everything from this season together it’s clear that there was a deeper meaning there and it was directed towards Buddie.

--

Ana was in 4x10 Parenthood

This episode was all about parents and it would seem on face value that Ana’s role is about her getting closer to the Diaz family but it’s not. Her role in the episode was to highlight how Buck is Christopher’s other dad. How the only other person Christopher is terrified of losing beside Eddie is Buck. How when Christopher was upset and scared he ran to Buck’s house.

Taylor was in 4x11 First Responders

Again I think the show was trying to mislead the audience into thinking that things could be going somewhere with her and Buck when really they were just developing their friendship. Notice how they didn’t spend any real alone time together getting to know one another like how a show would typically frame a couple in the making. Their only scenes in this ep involved them trying to solve what happened to Sue. Like work partners working on a project. Taylor comes over at the end of the ep with wine but there’s no real intention on her end that she’s interested in Buck and they only talk about the case.

---

Taylor was also in 4x12 Treasure Hunt

This is where things start to get interesting and I think really where the show starts to turn things from just faking out the audience to giving more clues about Buddie.

We get a scene where a bunch of the 118 are talking about the treasure hunt after seeing Taylor talk about it on the news. They talk about how it’s going to get more people hurt and Eddie says to Buck “your girlfriend’s news story is probably not going to help out with that”. Buck says “she’s my friend not my girlfriend”. To which Eddie nods his head like he believes him but he makes a face looking pouty and jealous.

Now why would the show put that line in there and show Eddie being jealous right before the three of them end up working together? 🤔

Buck calls Taylor and asks to team up to find the treasure and at the end of the call the camera pans out to show Eddie. Almost like they would if Buck was keeping things from his so.

Eddie asks Buck to team up but Buck had already teamed up with Taylor so he brings Eddie in the on deal. We then get the kitchen scene with the three of them where it’s obvious Eddie is jealous and as was pointed out in the twitter thread I included above the framing of that scene was definitely intentional. Eddie looking jealous seated in the middle of Buck and Taylor.

Even though the three of them were supposed to be a team we see Buck and Eddie together through most of the important parts of the episode. Like at the end when they find the treasure chest.

There’s a scene with Buck and Taylor at his apartment where he thinks things are going somewhere between them they’re not and it’s not the first time it’s happened. One has to wonder why he keeps trying to put himself out there for something that just isn’t going to happen.

While eating breakfast with the 118 Buck says "at this point I don’t trust anyone” and the camera specifically focuses in and lingers on Eddie looking hurt. When Buck notices he quickly clarifies what he meant.

The episode ends letting us know that Taylor only thinks of Buck as a friend and that’s how we move into the final two episodes of the season.

Also Just like with Parenthood Ana was in that ep to highlight Buck being Chris’ other dad Taylor was in Treasure Hunt to highlight that Eddie isn’t comfortable seeing Buck with someone else.

----

Ana was in 4x13 Suspicion

So I’ve wrote about this in another post but I think that Ana’s whole purpose in this episode was solely for Eddie and Carla to have the convo they did. The show made it clear that Eddie has not been emotionally invested in his relationship with Ana.

We saw Ana looking up the stuff about that mother who was poisoning her son but Ana wasn’t really involved in that whole storyline ultimately it was Buck. Buck was there when they first went to that call and he was the one who went to the women’s house with Eddie at the end despite being in civilian clothes. There was also no acknowledgement of Ana before Eddie was shot. Usually before a scene like that you’d have a couple saying something meaningful like I’m so glad you’re in my life or Eddie deciding to tell her he loves her but instead it was all about Eddie and Buck. It was also Buck who right before the shooting said “that kid is just lucky he met you” when Eddie was feeling guilty for not getting to the call sooner.

Then of course the shooting was framed to be all about Buck and Eddie. To the point that it was like almost nothing else existed in the world for a few seconds. Even when they pulled out of the slow motion all the camera really focused on was them.

----

Now looking ahead to the last episode for season 4 both Taylor and Ana will be in the episode. We can see that Taylor is in the finale just from the promo. It’s not surprising that Ana will be given she’s been dating Eddie and he was just shot.

But I can’t help but wonder why is the show bringing Taylor in to a season finale that is already clearly over flowing with stuff for the characters to do. I mean surely they don’t have screen time to waste? And I don’t mean that as a dig on Taylor. I mean I get the impression this episode is going to be planned to the second with no filler junk. We have the sniper, saving Eddie’s life, Athena and Bobby’s marriage dramas, Maddie’s depression, Buck doing something reckless to save everyone, Buck thinking Eddie is going to die and losing his shit, Buck talking to Christopher, whatever happens in that convo between Buddie.

So again why is Taylor in the finale? We see her with Buck in the promo and it looks like it might be in front of the hospital. It’s possible she’s there to help Buck find the sniper but I think the show could get around that some other way. If you look at how the show has handled Ana and Taylor thus far and how their presence in each ep throughout season 4 was to further Buddie’s story I think there’s only one reason she’s coming back and that’s because Buck is going to confess something to her about Eddie.

---

If we look at 4x13 again it was an episode that was more about Eddie than Buck and it was about discovery and honesty. People discovering things and being honest with others and themselves. I think 4x14 will be similar but with Buck. We can tell from the promos that Buck is going to have a lot of focus in the finale and I think part of that is going to involve him being honest with himself about some things. This will hearken back to the journey he’s been on for the whole season.

In the season 3 finale we saw Buck closing the chapter on Abby finally. We saw him grow and go through so much all season 4. He’s had to face a lot of truths this year. About his parents and about the kind of relationships he’s been in and what he really wants now but I also think he’s still been running. I think given all the hurt he’s experienced he’s been afraid to be truly vulnerable. He said earlier in season 4 he wanted a more meaningful relationship and it’s been in front of him all along yet he keeps running in the opposite direction.

In Breaking Point Taylor came back to 911 to tell Buck the he needed to listen to the universe and I think when she comes back in the finale whatever she says will be an echo of that convo.

My guess is Buck will come to some kind of realization after the shooting and he’ll talk to Taylor about it. I think that Taylor will be the one who pushes him to talk to Eddie and she’ll even likely say that she knew something was there between the two of them to begin with which is a big reason why she didn’t pursue anything with Buck. She knew he was in love with someone else.

----

Which leads us to what happens next

I’ve been thinking about this scene a lot and what might happen here. I’ve seen some people say they think Eddie will ask Buck to be Chris’ legal guardian in case something happens to him or that it might be a dream sequence. I think both of those things are possible but I can’t shake this feeling that when I look at Buck’s face here he looks like he’s being being told some surprising bad news.

I think it’s possible that Buck will go to the hospital with the intention of telling Eddie how he feels only when he gets there maybe Eddie tells him Ana is moving in. Maybe Eddie says she’s going to help take care of him and Christopher. Eddie says he wants to make sure that Christopher has someone in case something happens to him.

Which leaves us on a cliffhanger for the end of season 4 and in season 5 we could get Buck trying to navigate his feelings for Eddie while figuring out his sexuality.

I don’t think the actress who plays Ana will end up coming back for season 5 but that doesn’t have to affect how they leave things at the end of season 4. If we look back on previous seasons 911 is notorious for doing cliffhangers like this. Abby left at the end of season 1 and didn’t come back and it was essentially a cliffhanger to her and Buck’s relationship. The season 2 finale didn’t give total clarity about where things with Ali and Buck were going and by the time season 3 came the actress was gone.

So this whole idea of Ana moving in with Eddie could just be an idea and we won’t actually have to see it happen in season 5. Like Eddie says Ana is moving in but by the time season 5 rolls around we hear that she got a job offer in another state and she took it.

But something else could happen too. Maybe Eddie breaks up with Ana given the clarity he got from the convo with Carla and the shooting. Then he asks Buck to move in and help him and Christopher while he’s still healing. Buck decides that now isn’t the right time to tell Eddie how he feels that he needs to just be there for his friend so he holds back. That would still bring us into season 5 with a will they or won’t they which is ultimately where I think things are headed.

I’ve seen some people speculate that Eddie might tell Buck he’s going back to Texas which I think is less likely but still possible. So Eddie breaks up with Ana and decides he’s going to spend time with his family in Texas. Buck goes to tell Eddie how he feels and before he does Eddie tells him he’s leaving. Season 4 ends where we don’t know when or if Eddie and Christopher are coming back. Though ultimately they do in season 5 but how that all plays out would make for some good storylines and it could open up room for another Lonestar crossover ep too. It would be great to have an episode where Buck and TK talk about how Buck feels about Eddie.

---

I know a lot of people are going to be pissed if anything less than Buddie getting together and living HEA in the season 4 finale happens but I think we need to be patient. If we actually even get one of them acknowledging his feelings for the other it will be a huge step in the right direction towards them becoming a canon ship. But it does feel like the show is taking them more seriously now.

I know that the show could just be queerbaiting us that’s always a possibility at this point but I think it’s okay for us to be hopeful too. I feel like if the show didn’t want to move forward with Buddie they would have put more effort into developing Buck/Taylor and Eddie/Ana and a lot less into Buddie. This would have been the best season for the show to finally cut ties with Buddie if they really wanted to move on and were tired of hearing about it from us fans. Instead they’ve only developed Buck and Eddie more and there’s no getting around all the symbolism in that final scene in the recent episode. It was shot like two lovers.

I think we just need to have some faith that the writers care enough about the characters and audience to not string us along and that this is all leading somewhere. Which for the first time since Eddie arrived I actually think it is I really do think that Buddie will become canon.

If you read this whole thing blessings upon you and your cow and I’m sorry I talk so much. 😝💗

[mowu-moment]

i feel controversial & i care too much, so here's my des rocs complete tierlist

ranked list & reasoning (ish) under the cut

1. WAYNE: hoholy shit wayne. can hardly put into words how explosive this one is to me. the intro sets a Whole Mood before swiftly (& cleanly) smacking it down into an Absolute Banger and i don't use the term lightly. very hard not to scream along with it. only detriment is that wayne the person is kinda an ass in the mmc video but that's no qualm

2. POS: basically the same thing as wayne (oh both have great lyrics btw, this one more so), only gets points knocked for being 2 minutes long and having 30 seconds of that being intro & outro. go danny give us nothing

3. WHY WHY WHY: there's a theme among my top picks--they're all hard-hitting w/ killer guitar. the lyrics are absolute batshit in a good way, but the chorus is a lil flat & i feel like in general it just needed a touch more spice to score the top spot. or maybe it's just seniority & it'll have a coup a few months out idk

4. DEAD RINGER: similar killer guitar & lyrics but this one is Groovy as Hell. don't particularly like his singing in this one & it's too repetitive if i'm feeling grumpy but there's something so magic about after the bridge. top 10 songs to twirl a flag to

5. NOTHING PERSONAL: the minute long outro irks me & it's a little bit empty but plays into that well. groovy, great lyrics, the Sexiest Guitar Solo of the lot, the screaming's a minus but it does have an emotion there. not entirely sure what one but it's there.

6. LET ME LIVE / LET ME DIE: his first time being all over the goddamn place, history was made. amazing guitar, a little worse lyrics than 1-4 i'll admit, the intro Slays me both in a good and bad way. must be a joy to play live where he can just drag out that intro & bridge as long as feels right. at least i liked it in the digital concert like that. would actually kill me in a physical concert, imagine how much stomping gets going to that beat. bonus points for presumable cowbell

7. PIECES: for once not this high for the guitar & lyrics, they're both kinda basic. idk what's about this one but it just takes me to a separate dimension & i love it so much for that. really fills those earholes. also a bit of personal meaning, heard it for the first time on the day we moved into the house i'm currently split-custody-living in (is that tmi?) & the first music video of his i saw. man i love some spaghetti on the wall

8. SLO: basically the same as dead ringer, but knocked points for a kinda lame outro & the subject matter being a little less interesting to me. still lovely.

9. HANGING BY A THREAD: not my normal fare really & the way that the ends of the verses don't really fit in the pacing of them is bleh, but it's just so reminiscent of the songs my brother puts on whenever we hang out together that it just makes me all warm & fuzzy. it's also nicely put together which is something i'll have to start saying for. the later list.

10. SUICIDE ROMANTICS: this is where i start griping about head voice & higher pitches in general. don't like em so the pre-chorus is a lil annoying. also not my normal fare but it's tender & the ending is awe-striking. imo better live where he's loud on that last line before the final chorus. not enough to bump it up though. shoutouts to love and a smoking gun, i still am dying to hear that one

11. THE PAST HAS PASSED AWAY: my favorite lyrics out of the first 2 ep's. only thing wrong with it really is the bridge getting kinda repetitive. love that last chorus heehoo. same schpeel as the Banger Category

12. MMC: this one's lower than the rest of the Bangers for being pop punk which is something the radio has made me dislike, i guess. that trope with the guitar in the second half of the chorus just kills me so much. improves greatly during & after the bridge, love that lil ragtime piano. generally the same bit as before but i do love him doing something un-romance-related. yeah fuck the establishment!

13. THE DEVIL INSIDE: reminds me A Lot of the electronic-ish cassettes i've got from the early 90's but that's just me. this one will probably move up as i get more used to it, but only a little bit. the first part of the second verse makes me like. genuinely uncomfy? but the second part of it's fantastic. ending's ass though what happened to the instrumence. bonus points for using 'reverie' that's an SAT word (maybe). good singing but returning to the gripe at higher pitches, just a little bit though

14. THIS IS OUR LIFE: feels shockingly generic for a des rocs song tbh but there's nothing really wrong with that. adore the bridge. singing's alright. kinda miffed that he doesn't pronounce the 'f' in the second 'life' in the chorus, but it makes sense here. that sort of thing won't later so i'm bringing it up now. guitar's nothing spectacular but fits nicely into the song, probably one of the most cohesive of his (especially in recent history).

15. OUTTA MY MIND: really lives in the same space as slo and dead ringer do in my head (most likely the 'songs to twirl a flag to' zone), but this is by far the worst of the three for when i'm grumpy. just. Very repetitive. back to great lyrics here but it's kinda hard to pick them out (i've heard the song at least 100 times by now & i'm still missing a few lines). still groovin'

16. RUBY WITH THE SHARPEST LIES: what the fuck actually goes on in this song by the way? not the premise or whatever it's just. so all over the place. the verses are incredible but bringing in another vocalist just for one line kills me. bridge is really cool but that one part i don't remember where it is, the one that alternates basically nothing & an Electronic Piano Chord blaring at ya? ruins it. partially anyhow. also can someone tell the people on genius that it's 'carved it in my skin' not 'crawled down in my skin'

17. GIVE ME THE NIGHT: same repetitive issue as outta my mind but it's not groovy enough to save it, shame. feels like a trial run of all the wackshit stuff he's been doing recently, with the additional vocal bits at the end & the kinda weird lyrics. it still has a place in my heart don't get me wrong but it's just fallen in favor of stuff that Commits to banger or batshit (or actually pulls off both strongly, yyy). oh yeah nice guitar alright singing etc etc

18. USED TO THE DARKNESS: similar story to give me the night. i love it i do, but it's just lackluster nowadays. also remember that under-pronunciation thing i brought up in this is our life? this is where that comes back. rampant i tell you! that second verse he just doesn't finish the words & i hate it!

19. DON'T HURT ME: i honestly don't know why this one isn't in D. the chorus bit where he just cuts it short is irksome. the lyrics aren't anything special. i don't know what i like about it. but i can tell it does exactly what it set out to do if that makes sense. respect, respect. and using missile in an analogy, he's getting creative with the vocab

20. LIVING PROOF: kinda got a vendetta against this one i think? i don't know why i hate this one but i do. it's just kinda, blah. like the perfect sort of thing to nightcore up. sentiment's lovely & i do love the lyrics even if they aren't impressive but like. it bores me to an extent

21. TICK (LIVE): separating the version i heard in the digital concert just to give it some credit, this one was actually kinda nice. another one with a nice sentiment & what he was going for is great. no clue what the second part of the second verse has to do with any of this though. and it also begins our final group, the songs that just feel empty. like there's not nearly enough going on. this one's alright though i was just hoping the studio version would add some flair. you can see where that one is though.

22. IMAGINARY FRIENDS: also got a vendetta against pop. kinda hate the sentiment here (contrast!), the chorus just falls short of what the verses prime me for, head voice is rampant, and yet i still swing along to it. it's infectious props to him. love the outro though, monkey laugh and all.

23. MAYBE, I: another empty one, like it's a four-note progression what is that. love his singing in it, and the chorus parts do round it out, but like. eh? it doesn't even give me much to say.

24. BORN TO LOSE: another flop on the chorus! too smooth i say! and i absolutely Despise the pitch-shifting thing going on. not something i was expecting him to express so points there, lyrics are nothing fancy to my Literary Mind though. initially good singing but the chorus he's just sloppy over it. the instrumental is lovely but the vocals just throw it so hard into the bin which is a right shame. fuck that outro too i hate that gimmick

25. I KNOW: here's where the bad batshit comes in. singing is some of his worst imo, does the other-vocalist thing for that bridge, genre i'm not fond of, just a soup of Stuff I Don't Like. not one i'd kill someone over putting as #1 like i can see where it comes from but. mmmmmhhhh bad. cover does NOT help his case.

26. HVY MTL DRMR: empirically i should put this one higher. but the chorus flops so goddamn hard it deserves to be in the bottom of the barrel. the verses are lovely for what he was doing back then! but then just... nothing!

27. RABBIT HOLE: i was so excited for this name but it's just sad boi hours playlist curated by some corporation you hate. probably the most nothing of them all, genuinely where are the instruments. what happened. was this one just shoehorned in as the final track just to pump numbers up. and i swear he had some autotune or something which only makes his voice worse it's fantastic naturally. also that's not what a rabbit hole is! that's not the idiom! a rabbit hole is when you go on a wikipedia spiral from jennifer lopez to group theory! not when you just have a shitty night's sleep or whatever this is! i'm not just miffed i'm downright annoyed

28. TICK (STUDIO): what the fuck happened des. how did you release this. it sounds like a 3rd grader singing for the school talent show it's so out of rhythm. singing's honestly kinda bad & the instrumental has the same problems i talked about in the live version. the last chorus is fine, i guess, but no i don't forgive him for what he did to tick.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 2

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

BJORNHEIMR, THE TEMPLE

Walking underneath the white sun, Eivor worked his way around the village as he scanned the surrounding buildings, keeping an eye out for Randvi’s bright head of hair. Roughly half an hour had passed ever since Thora first approached him on the hill asking for his assistance, but he had yet to catch a glimpse of his younger sister anywhere.

According to some of the people Eivor had spoken to, Randvi was last seen heading towards the town’s temple. She was accompanying the local seeress on an “urgent matter,” and apparently hadn’t returned since. Eivor didn’t have a clue as to what Ingrida could’ve needed help with on a day like this, but nonetheless, it was the only lead he had. And so, he took it.

Pushing himself up the steep incline that led to the temple’s archway, Eivor slowly ascended a dirt path decorated with ceremonial bones and charms, causing a soft chime to rattle in his ears as they swayed gently in the wind.

His boots dug deeply into the many layers of snow blanketing over the path, and with every step he took on his short journey, a sharp crunch emitted from his feet, alerting nearby hares and birds.

Up ahead, Eivor saw a majestic line of wooden statues standing proudly in front of the temple’s lake, towering over its still waters like a row of guardians. Piles of snow had gathered on their heads and shoulders as a result of the frostbitten weather, and in the bowls that lay at their feet, Eivor saw a handful of fresh offerings left by some of the locals.

The main thing that caught his attention however, was a toppled statue of Freya lying motionlessly in the snow. The base of its structure had broken somehow, and now, it was garnering the care of their seeress, as well as Randvi herself.

Eivor stopped briefly in his tracks, feeling a sense of relief. 

“There you are.” He whispered under his breath.

Approaching them from behind, Eivor hurriedly made his way to Randvi as the two women covertly bickered with each other, speaking in a hushed manner. At first, he simply assumed they were trying to figure out how to get the statue back on its feet, but once he got closer, their conversation suggested otherwise.

“....You’re not listening to me,” Ingrida insisted. “It’s a sign! We must not ignore it.”

Randvi crossed her arms in disagreement, attempting temper the seeress’ fear. “I understand that, Ingrida, but there isn’t much we can do about it now. What’s done is done.”

“You must cancel the wedding,” the older woman reiterated. “The gods have made it clear that this joining will ensue nothing but chaos!”

“A king is coming to our shores at our invitation, Ingrida. To turn Styrbjorn away would be a grave insult to him and his clan. We have no choice but to go through with this.”

Still, the seeress was unconvinced. “An insult holds little weight in the face of death. The arrival of the Raven Clan will bring naught but misery and conflict. The gods have shown this to me.”

Eivor stepped in the middle of their altercation, trying to get a grasp of what was going on.

“Randvi,” he called out, earning a glance from the woman. “What’s going on? Why haven’t you joined father at the docks yet?”

She sighed in frustration. “I apologize for the delay, Eivor, but Ingrida is concerned about the nature of this wedding, and nothing I say seems to ease her nerves.”

Eivor turned to the seeress, curious to hear her side. “What troubles you, Ingrida? You look perturbed.”

The elderly woman scoffed. “Perturbed is an understatement, young man. Last night, the gods visited me in my dreams, and showed me visions of things to come. They were not good.”

“What did you see?”

Ingrida took a moment to recall her memories. “...There was a man. He appeared human in my dream, yet carried a monstrous nature to him. His eyes burned bright with the heat of Muspelheim itself, and his hair was so red that, at first, I mistook it for fire. There was a strange mark etched into the flesh on his neck, and one of his arms had been severed clean off. Lurking behind him, I saw a white wolf whose snout was stained by the redness of his blood.”

It didn’t take long for Eivor to make the connection. “You dreamt of Tyr?”

The seeress seemed unsure. “Perhaps... but I did not get the impression that this man was a god. He seemed too earthly. Too... familiar. That’s not the part that frightens me, though. What worries me is, when I awoke, the statue of Freya had fallen to the ground, despite the fact that it was still standing mere moments ago.”

Eivor shrugged. “I fail to see what’s so alarming about that.”

Ingrida gestured to the statue. “Use your head, Eivor! Freya is the goddess of love. Her collapse -- paired with my vision -- signifies what this marriage will bring. War.”

“How could this marriage bring war? The whole purpose of this joining is to forge an alliance between the Bear and Raven Clans.”

“I’m aware. But our plans do not always match what the gods have in mind.”

Randvi tried to defuse the situation. “Have faith in our jarl, Ingrida. I know these are frightening times, but our father is simply trying to eradicate Kjotve’s people from our waters for good. We would have killed him ourselves long ago, but we alone do not have the strength necessary to do that. We need Styrbjorn and his people.”

“What we need is to avoid more bloodshed. We have had enough.”

The seeress sighed in annoyance, deciding to put an end to this argument. It was clear that her message wasn’t getting through to the other members of the clan, and despite what she may have believed, she couldn’t deny that Randvi had a point. 

Ingrida may have been skeptical about the outcome of this wedding, but Styrbjorn was already on his way. His entire clan was accompanying him to Bjornheimr’s shores, and there wasn’t much she could do about that now.

“...Alright, you two.” Ingrida finally said. “I can see that this is going nowhere. If your father believes this is the best way forward... then I suppose it is not my place to defy him.”

The young woman beamed at her. “Do not fear, seeress. Everything will be alright.”

“I certainly hope so. Our people have suffered enough at the hands of Kjotve and his men. I pray that this joining will put an end to that.”

Randvi nodded in agreement. “As do I.”

Eivor smirked humorously at his sister. “Well, it’s never going to happen if you don’t make haste to the docks.”

The woman chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll be on my way soon. Just...” Randvi took a breath, “...give me a moment.”

Her brother grinned. “Nervous, are we?”

Randvi gave him a friendly shove. “Yes, and you are not helping.”

Eivor smiled at her. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Father wouldn’t promise you to this man if he thought he couldn’t be trusted. You know him.”

The woman remained somewhat anxious. “I know he would never do anything to put me in harm’s way. I’m just... nervous about what the future holds. What if my husband and I don’t get along? What if we’re miserable together? What if this only brews more animosity between our clans?”

“All the better,” Eivor replied. “You’ll fit right in with the rest of Norway’s royalty.”

Randvi let out a laugh at that. “You certainly know how to make light of any situation, don’t you?”

Eivor leaned against a tree, crossing his arms in a jesting way. “It’s my blessing and my curse.”

Ingrida rested her hands on her hips. “More often a curse, I would say.”

Randvi rolled her eyes in a playful manner, finally deciding to return to her duties.

“Alright,” she said with a troubled sigh. “I’ll go find father at the docks now. He’s probably wondering where I am. I’ll see you and Thora at the feast this evening. Try to keep things orderly, will you?”

Eivor nodded reassuringly. “Of course.”

“Good. Father’s counting on us to make a good impression. I trust you won’t scare anyone off before the feast starts?”

“Now that, I can’t promise.”

Randvi snickered in amusement and threw a casual grin at Eivor before taking her leave from the temple, following the trail of dented snow that her brother left behind. The sun was nearing the center of the sky at this point in the day, and if Eivor squinted hardly enough, he could’ve sworn he saw the miniature silhouettes of distant ship sails billowing on the horizon. 

The Raven Clan had arrived.

“Ingrida?” Eivor said, continuing his talk with the seeress. “Can I ask you something?”

The old woman took a seat on a nearby bench, placing herself in front of the statues.

“Of course, young cub. What’s on your mind?”

Eivor strolled towards Ingrida’s position, keeping his eyes nailed on Freya’s fallen figure as he put his thoughts into words.

“Do you truly think this wedding will bring more chaos to our clan?”

The seeress shook her head in uncertainty. “I cannot speak in absolutes, for I do not know what the gods are thinking. All I can tell you is that this marriage sparks a sense of worry in me... and it stems from the man in my dreams.”

Eivor sat beside Ingrida. “Is there anything I can do to tame your fear?”

A warm smile radiated on the woman’s face. “You are kind, but I suspect that this situation is now in the hands of the Nornir. If they wish to lead us into battle, then it would be pointless to cower behind our shields.”

The young man recalled a conversation he had with the seeress many years ago, bringing up one of her own quotes.

“Ingrida, do you remember what you said to me? After my parents were killed, and Arngeir took me in?”

She shook her head, staying silent in response.

“We are all bound by the threads of fate,” Eivor reminded her. “Any attempt to deviate from the path--”

“--will simply be met with what was always destined to be.” Ingrida finished. “Yes, I remember now. And it seems that I would do well to follow my own wisdom.”

The woman chuckled softly, gazing at Eivor with a motherly twinkle in her aged eyes. “You have grown into a fine young man, Eivor. It seems that your mind is as sharp as your axe. Varin would be proud of you. I know Arngeir certainly is.”

“...Thank you, seeress.”

Ingrida rose from her seat, ready to head back inside. “Well, I should return to my duties. We have a busy day ahead of us, and this statue isn’t going to stand up on its own. I’ll see if I can find my son. Perhaps he could help me.”

Eivor mirrored her actions and removed himself from the bench, offering assistance. “I can help you now, if you’d like.”

The woman raised a hand of refusal. “No, no. It’s alright. I’ve occupied enough of your time. You just focus on tending to your own family, and seeing that the Raven Clan receives the welcome they deserve. In the meantime, I will stay here, and do what I can to prepare the temple before King Styrbjorn arrives. It’s possible he will want to make an offering before the wedding.”

“Very well,” Eivor said, making his way through the temple’s arch. “I will speak with you later, then.”

“Farewell, Eivor.” Ingrida replied. “May you carry Odin’s favor.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE DOCKS

Rushing down to the harbor, Randvi weaved her way through Bjornheimr’s crowds and hurried to join her father as the Raven Clan steadily approached the docks, drawing everyone’s attention.

By now, there was a canopy of clouds hovering in the sky, slowly inching its way across the ocean’s vast length as it passed through an array of sunbeams.

Meanwhile, underneath them, an impressive collection of longships glided over the sea’s rolling waves, causing spurts of white mist to spray in their wake as they crashed into the tides.

It was an armada fit for a king, Randvi thought. Even though she had never made contact with the Raven Clan before, it was clear that they carried a strong sense of pride and honor with them, similar to the one that her own clan held.

It made her wonder if, perhaps, it wouldn’t be such a difficult task to bring their people together, after all. For many days now, Randvi had spend most of her nights twisting and turning in bed with the worry of causing more trouble like Ingrida suggested, but after seeing the Raven Clan face-to-face, it managed to put some of her fears to rest.

Her heart still hammered with the nervousness of meeting her future spouse, but the anxiety in her chest was no longer as debilitating as before. 

Freya willing, it would stay that way.

Finally reaching the harbor, Randvi came to a halt when she spotted Arngeir waiting by the edge of the pier, standing quietly as his fur cloak danced wildly in the breeze.

Arngeir Hallbjornson was a tall man clad in fierce armor that broadened his already stocky build, causing him to stand out from the clan like a walking giant. Most of his visage was hidden behind a grizzled beard and mane that had been twisted into multiple braids, and the parts of his face that remained uncovered were creased with years of experience.

Despite the boldness that his presence carried however, Arngeir did not wield an intimidating temperament as others might have expected. Instead, his pragmatic nature only enhanced the fatherly spirit in him, and a firm sense of nobility stood proudly in his eyes. 

A certain kindness radiated from his stern expression, but due to the plethora of burdens that came with being a jarl, there was also a rougher edge to him like thorns on a rose. 

He was no stranger to the idea of mercy, but he wasn’t able to engage with it as often as he wished.

“Father!” Randvi exclaimed, taking her position beside the man.

Arngeir turned around at the sound of her voice, slouching his shoulders in relief.

“Randvi. There you are. I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

The woman replied with a humorous response. “I wasn’t. But then Eivor found me.”

A chuckle escaped her father’s lips. “I understand if you’re hesitant to go through with this wedding, but trust me. Everything will be fine. Sigurd is a good man. I believe he will be a worthy husband.”

“He’s also a prince,” Randvi added, “which means someday I’ll be...”

“...his queen. A daunting task, indeed, but I have faith that you will live up to the challenge.” Arngeir rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Do not fear, Randvi. You are ready for this.”

“I hope so. I’m just worried about the future of our marriage. What if Sigurd and I don’t go well together? What if this turns out to be a disaster?”

Arngeir gave her a reassuring smile. “These thoughts you’re experiencing are quite normal for someone in your situation. Fear is a natural part of change, and marriage can be a life-altering event. But as I said before -- I would not have chosen Sigurd if I did not think he was suitable to be your husband. Even though this wedding is for the good of our clan, I also want to ensure that you are happy as well.”

Randvi took a deep breath, attempting to conceal how much she was shaking. 

“I suppose I won’t know for sure until I meet him myself.”

“Exactly.” Arngeir paused for a moment, suddenly realizing that King Styrbjorn had reached the dock. “But enough of that. The Raven Clan is here. Keep your head high, and do your best to stay calm. The gods are watching over us.”

Turning away from his daughter, the jarl swiftly approached the opposite end of the pier with open arms as Styrbjorn stepped off the longship, eager to return to the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet.

He appeared to be a man of great stature and etiquette just based on the elegancy of his demeanor, but it was no secret to Randvi that he had seen his fair share of battles throughout the years. 

There were many faint scars hiding beneath the surface of his weathered skin, and even though Styrbjorn spent most of his time occupying a throne these days, his hands remained hardened with the callouses of a soldier, implying that the hilt of an axe once sat in his palm.

Though, as age would decree, the muscles that once sharpened his physique had softened over time, and the shaved hair sitting atop his head had been washed with silver. The lids of his eyes hung slightly low with with a tinge of fatigue, and sitting between his brows, Randvi saw the wrinkles of a serious man embedded into his skin.

“King Styrbjorn!” Arngeir called out in a convivial tone. “Welcome to Bjornheimr!”

The older man returned his smile, beaming brightly as he adjusted to the land beneath his boots.

“Arngeir Jarl!” Styrbjorn said boisterously. “Now there’s a face that I haven’t seen nearly enough of.” He pulled Arngeir into a tight embrace, greeting the man with a warm hug. “You look well, my friend. It is a blessing to see you safe in times like these.”

The jarl welcomed the gesture, immediately picking up on the smell of sea salt. “And you, my lord. I trust you had a safe journey from Fornburg?”

Styrbjorn nodded, separating the hug. “We did. Njord graced us with calm waters and strong winds today. We were also lucky enough to avoid Kjotve’s men during the voyage. I’m glad to say our journey was rather uneventful. Though, I fear it may have been too uneventful for my son’s liking.”

Arngeir chuckled. “A warrior’s heart beats inside his chest, just like yours.”

“Indeed,” the king joked, “and it will be the death of me someday.”

Styrbjorn diverted his gaze to the woman at Arngeir’s side, instantly realizing who she was.

“Ah, and you must be Randvi.”

The young viking bowed her head politely, admittedly unsure of how to address Styrbjorn.

“...Yes,” she answered. “I-It’s an honor to meet you, my lord.”

Styrbjorn gently took Randvi’s hand into his grasp, shaking it in an affable manner. “The honor is mine, my lady. Your father has offered nothing but praise in response to the questions I’ve asked about you. I’m certain you’ll make a fine addition to our family.”

“Thank you,” she said, slightly more relaxed. “You’re too kind.”

An extra pair of footsteps thudded on the pier’s wooden surface, causing Styrbjorn to throw a quick glance over his shoulder.

“Ah, but enough about me. Allow me to introduce you to your betrothed.” He placed a hand on his son’s back, presenting him to Randvi.

“My lady Randvi, I’d like you to meet my son. Sigurd.”

Staring silently at the person in front of her, Randvi was met with a young man clothed in noble attire and light armor, similar to the image she had in mind. His face was embellished with a handful of neatly-drawn tattoos, and in the middle of his forehead stood an unfamiliar rune resembling the shape a tree.

The strange part about Sigurd’s appearance though, was that he happened to match the exact description Ingrida described to Randvi earlier. He wasn’t missing an arm like the man in the seeress’ dream, but everything else seemed to be identical.

A certain type of ferocity enhanced the raw ardor in his icy gaze, and with the sun’s light getting trapped between the strands of his red hair, it almost looked as if his head was surrounded by a ring of fire.

He was certainly a sight to behold, even without the context of Ingrida’s vision. He cradled a peculiar flame inside the breast of his soul, and even though he appeared as human as anyone else in Bjornheimr, Randvi couldn’t help but sense something more otherworldly in his presence.

“H-Hello.” Randvi said, sounding much more nervous than she intended. “I’m pleased to finally meet you.”

Surprisingly, Sigurd shared her timidness. “As am I. I’ve heard much about you, my lady.”

Styrbjorn laughed softly at his son’s quiet response. “Have no fear, Randvi. That shyness will wear off soon enough.”

Arngeir agreed with the sentiment. “The same could be said for my daughter.”

The king began making his way off the pier, growing weary of the ocean’s chilled winds. “Well, I think I’ll go help my clan settle in now. We’re planning to pitch camp in the woods outside of Bjornheimr, but I hope it won’t be a bother if some of my men need to share a roof with your people?”

Arngeir shook his head. “Not at all, my lord. Bjornheimr is open to you. We have plenty of open space in the village should your men require more shelter. You’re free to use it.”

“Thank you, my friend. Your hospitality is appreciated. In the meantime,” Styrbjorn looked at his son, “Sigurd, why don’t you stay here with Randvi? Take some time to get to know her, and the locals as well. In two weeks from now, these people will be our family.”

“Of course, father.”

Arngeir’s face lit up with a look of remembrance. “That reminds me -- my people are preparing a feast to welcome your clan. It should be ready before this evening. Your men are welcome to join us at the longhouse.”

Styrbjorn seemed pleased. “A perfect opportunity to bring our people together. I’ll be there.”

“As will I.” Sigurd promised. 

“Wonderful,” Arngeir said. “I’ll let my oldest know. Her name is Thora. She and a few others will make sure the tables are laden with food. You should introduce yourself to her when you find the opportunity, though I fear she’s not quite as sociable as Randvi. I also have a son who’d like to meet you as well. His name is Eivor.”

Styrbjorn made a mental note of that. “I shall keep that in mind. Until then, let us dig our boots into the soil here, and thank the gods for our safe arrival.”

The jarl joined his king as the two of them ventured deeper into Bjornheimr, ready to tackle the rest of the day. “And may they bless us in the days to come.”

Strolling off into the distance, Arngeir and Styrbjorn returned to their lengthy list of duties as life carried on in the village around them, causing the small crowd that had gathered at the harbor to disperse.

Meanwhile, Sigurd and Randvi stayed behind at the docks, rendered silent by an awkward lack of conversation. Neither of them really knew what to do with themselves from here on out, but in spite of that, the young woman had to admit that she was feeling far more relieved than before.

“So,” Randvi started, “I’m curious. Am I what you expected?”

Sigurd turned his head towards the young woman as he examined her, revealing a strange mark on the side of his neck. 

“Yes, actually. Though, you are a bit taller than I pictured.” An inquisitive expression spread across his face. “...What about me? Did you think I would look like this?”

“No,” Randvi answered honestly. “Not at all. D-Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m not disappointed.”

Sigurd chuckled lightly. “Glad to hear it. I must admit -- I was somewhat nervous before coming here. I had no idea what I would be walking into or what kind of person you would be. So far though, I’m pleasantly surprised.”

The woman found some comfort in his words. “I’m relieved. These past few days have been filled to the brim with stress. It’s good to finally set things in motion.”

“Agreed.”

Randvi gestured to the other areas of the village, beckoning Sigurd to follow her. “Would you... like me to show you around before the feast starts? Bjornheimr has many places to see. I could also introduce you to my siblings, if you like.”

The man smiled cordially. “Of course.”

“Great. Thora should be at the longhouse, but... I’m not sure where Eivor is right now. He was at the temple the last time I saw him, but if we can’t find him, I’m certain he’ll show up at the feast. He’d never miss the opportunity to get a fresh cup of mead.”

Sigurd smirked in amusement. “A man after my own heart.”

Randvi returned the jest. “You might change your mind once you meet him, but I digress. Shall we?”

“Lead on.”

Finally removing himself from the ocean’s vicinity after a long day of traveling, Sigurd stuck to Randvi’s side as she led him away from the bustling harbor, enthusiastic to spend more time with her betrothed.

The two of them had only known each other for a few moments, and yet, Randvi got the impression that Sigurd was far gentler than his exterior suggested him to be. His appearance resembled that of a war-weathered vikingr who knew only stoicism, but his personality seemed to stem from a heart of honor and compassion.

The one thing about him that concerned Randvi so far was how accurate Ingrida’s vision had proven to be. Nothing about Sigurd gave off the impression that he harbored any malicious intent, but that didn’t stop the young woman from wondering if the seeress’ instincts were correct. 

The timing of Freya’s collapse struck Randvi as somewhat odd now that she thought about it, and the fact that Ingrida dreamt about the god of war beforehand did nothing to ease her nerves. 

She had to admit that she was beginning to understand the old woman’s fears surrounding this wedding, but alas, it was too late to back out of it now.

And so, with a quick change of the subject, Randvi brushed off her worries for the time being and simply focused on getting to know her betrothed. She was just as clueless as Ingrida when it came to the events of the near-future, but she figured it would be pointless fretting about it now.

The fires of this alliance were already being stoked, after all, and there was little she could do to snuff it out. She may as well have just drifted off with the waves, and allowed the tides of fate to do their job.

[whumpinggrounds]

Grief - SOW

second piece for @summer-of-whump! wrote this out so so fast but i really wanted to get it down. but my apologies for any errors and possibly not being my best writing. this was my original idea that turned into the piece for yesterday and today! so. let me know what you think :)

tagging @shapeshiftersandfire and @killtheprotagonist

CW: lady whump, pet whump, caretaker turned whumper, intimate whumper, angst, migraines, grief, aftermath of conditioning, angst

The day after she discovers the paper that says Handler Collins can fix her in any way he sees fit, Isabella finds herself sitting in the desk chair again. It would be safer to kneel on the floor, or stand next to the desk, but the high hysteria in her chest makes her knees weak. It makes her bold, and maybe a little stupid. Right now, it’s hard for Isabella to know the difference.

This time when she sits in the chair, it takes one deep breath before her hand is on the desk drawer. She doesn’t know what’s driving her – a need to check or confirm or just a morbid curiosity that verges on self-harm. Whatever it is, it helps Isabella slide the drawer open with no problem. Distantly, she watches as her fingers drift over the tabs, toward the one labeled with her name. Isabella’s gearing herself up to slide it out when something stops her in her tracks.

Just a few folders back, in the J section, there’s a folder labeled with another name. An old name. A name that drives a familiar spike of pain, like a forgotten friend, deep into the spot behind Isabella’s left eye.

As if entranced, Isabella lets the folder fall from between her fingers. She reaches for the new folder quickly, snatches it hungrily out of the drawer as if someone might be coming to stop her. There’s a sense of danger in the room, a tension so heavy Isabella catches herself looking over her shoulder. This is something. This could be everything.

Isabella’s shaking fingers let the folder drop onto the desk. She’s long used to hearing the name. Miss Mara broke her of that aversion the first few weeks, back when she refused to accept the girl she’d known was gone.

Now, though, things are different. Now, things have changed. Somewhere along the way, the girl Miss Mara knew had started to come back. Had started to make her presence known in the back of Isabella’s head. This time, though, Miss Mara wasn’t pleased. When Isabella starts asking questions, Miss Mara scowls, shakes her head, smacks Isabella if she won’t shut up. The remembering, the dreams, the vague impressions from clothes and smells – Isabella keeps them secret, keeps them close, strives vainly to understand what exactly they are.

The folder might be an answer, might be the thread that makes it all hang together. Blinking past the dizziness pressing in her head, Isabella opens the folder.

Inside: photos. Letters written in an unknown hand. A friendship bracelet, long since cut off someone’s wrist. A silver necklace with a shiny little charm shaped like a star. Head aching, eyes on fire, Isabella pages through it all, stopping every now and then to examine a line here, a face in a photo there.

If she keeps her eyes unfocused, Isabella can look for just a few minutes through her headache. She still has to close her eyes, recuperate, steel herself before she continues, but she can process just a little here and there. The items in the folder – the folder –

There are photos of her and Miss Mara. They’re smiling in the photos, standing side by side. Her – Isabella’s – Jude’s arms, they’re wrapped around her owner. Her girlfriend. Her friend?

Whoever Miss Mara was to her, they look happy. Jude, Isabella, whoever it is…she looks happy.

Blinking back sudden tears, Isabella looks away from the photos. There are so many of them. Strips from photobooths where they’re making goofy faces, selfies in front of pretty views, staged photos where they’re standing side by side, grinning for someone anonymous beside the camera. It’s the two of them, over and over – hardly anyone else along with them, and in those rare photos where there’s someone else, they don’t appear more than the once. Isabella seizes on these faces, stares desperately at these faces, wanting badly to glean something from these strangers, and yet finds nothing. With an intensity approaching desperation, Isabella turns to the papers without images, the ones with writing.

Dear Mara, I read this and thought of you…

Dear Mara, Happy birthday!

Mar – Going to be late today, I have a group project meeting…

Mara, Mara-Mara, Mar

Isabella’s eyes are so full of tears they’re useless. She can’t read a word through the blur. There are few enough notes, but Miss Mara seems to have saved them all – post it notes to birthday cards to a printout of a poem with too-familiar handwriting tagged on in the corner. That handwriting. It isn’t Miss Mara’s. Isabella thinks, with a deeply sick feeling, that it must be hers.

Back to the photos, almost frantically now. Isabella pages through them, looking for answers, looking for clues, looking for anything besides the idiotic carefree face of that stupid naïve girl. It’s the last picture, the final photo in the stack that finally does it.

This is the only photo with many faces – a dozen or more, all lines up and grinning. Some look nervous; other have their chins jutting out defiantly. In the center of them is a poster, clearly homemade – maybe painted on a bedsheet? It’s in black, all caps. It says Liberation.

In the top right corner, there’s a row of familiar faces. All in a line – Jude, and then Miss Mara, and then, flame-haired and nervous-smiling, Jamie.

Isabella feels like she can’t breathe. She flips the photo over to get away from the faces and there’s writing there in a familiar, messy hand.

First pet lib meeting with Mara.

Below that, in a different color pen, written even more sloppily –

And Jamie.

Jamie’s name is underlined, twice.

Isabella’s breath comes shorter and shorter. She sets the photo on top of the stack and stares at it – Jamie’s smiling face, Miss Mara’s smiling face, their arms around each other. Miss Mara’s arms around Isabella. Her smiling face.

Not hers. Pushing the chair back from the desk, Isabella puts her head between her knees and tries to breathe. It’s not hers. It’s just not her anymore. The girl in the photo, the smiling girl, the normal happy human person in those pictures isn’t her, is someone else. That young woman is dead and gone, and Isabella is someone else. She needs to – she needs to look at that face as a stranger, a missing person, someone who doesn’t, shouldn’t, can’t matter anymore.

Instead, Isabella traces a finger gently down the curve of her stupid, sweet, smiling face. Her little smirk when Miss Mara’s kissing her on the cheek. The wide-eyed joy as they beam from the top of a mountain. Her clear-eyed commitment to such a terrifyingly fruitless cause. This young woman, this kid, her complete and unearned confident happiness. Isabella can see, so clearly it aches, that nothing truly bad had ever really happened to her. That she probably believed that nothing truly bad would ever happen to her. It makes Isabella’s chest hurt. It makes her eyes burn with yet more filling tears.

That girl is gone, she tells herself firmly, biting down on the tremble in her lip. That girl is gone. She closes the folder fast, lays a hand on top of it as if she can hold it down, away from her.

Then, crumbling, cracking, breaking all at once, Isabella scoops the folder up and holds it to her chest. Moving low and fast, like a wounded animal, she scrambles from the chair, lets it roll away behind her, and she runs to the closet. There, on the floor, in the dark corner where she hides herself, Isabella holds the folder to her chest and weeps.

That girl isn’t gone. She’s dead and wrong and broken but she’s not gone, she’s here, she’s alive and breathing and failing and still here. She’s here. She’s still right here.

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [bonus]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–nudity boobies! w.c; 2.2k a/n; why did a week go by so stinkin’ fast? i’m not ready to let go of this couple! that being said, i wouldnt mind posting some drabble babbles about these two or four. im utterly thankful for the love and passion my readers had for this, i had so many kind readers that kept me afloat through all of. i can’t wait to see you in the next one, and i hope you enjoy this little glimpse💕

[final] [bonus] -> masterpost

“You’re not Jimin.” 

Jungkook’s eyes snap open, and he takes note of the change in air. Chalk it up to the open window or the fact that the rain’s evaporated, but he can’t help the pinch of pain in his heart as he realizes that you’re far, far gone from this world. 

And in your place, is you. Not quite you, but it’s almost scary how easy it is to regard your visage and simple conversation. 

“Jimin,” he repeats, as if he heard you wrong. “As in, Park Jimin? Tiny guy with a big ego?” 

“Yes,” you reply blandly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes are sparkless, flickering between your state of nakedness and his state of nakedness. “I know I wasn’t exactly sober last night, but I distinctly remember telling him he’d be in my bed tonight,” and you regard Jungkook with a sort of pointed look, unable to decipher your situation, “but here you are. Still cupping by boob.” 

Out of reflex, he squeezes his palm. Yep, that’s yours. 

A little part of him also wants to yell to the heavens because you failed to tell him you were hooking up with Park Jimin before all of this. 

Okay technically you didn’t, but the person in front of him did. 

His heart is fresh and stinging like a hot cut on the asphalt. He watches you take in your surroundings, humming when you notice the new clothes on the rack and the way your desk has been rearranged. Jungkook is trying very hard to be patient, after all you’re a stranger and suddenly he feels like he’s the one that’s known you all his life. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

You stretch, testing out your limbs as they pop and crackle at your command. You run a hand through your strawberry-smelling hair, and Jungkook has to grip the sheets to not go by instinct and take you right then and there on this mattress. With a shameless groan of satisfaction, you flop against your bed. Jungkook tries, emphasis on try, to not watch as your breasts bounce and the way your hair flows around your pillow like the angel you are, but he’s rendered smitten. 

“Uh,” boobies boobies boobies. 

You pointedly ignore his piss-poor attempt at coherent conversation, staring up at the ceiling.  “Ho—ly shit,” you curse freely, heaving an exhausted sigh, “I feel so sore.” 

“S-sore?” Great, he found his voice. 

“Yeah, like I’ve been in a coma or something,” but you think nothing of it, summing it up as a crazy dream from alcohol poisoning. You sit up straight, reaching for your phone. It’s not on your desk, but instead you find something far more interesting. 

You reach for your Midnight Blue Citrus candle, frowning at the contents. The wax is nearly burnt to the end, the tips of the wicks charcoal black and frayed. Waving your used candle in Jungkook’s face you blame, “What the fuck, did you use all of this last night? I just bought this like, literally yesterday!” 

His face falls, “What? You’ve had that candle for forever—”

“And why the heck it is so hot in the middle of February?” 

Oh. 

Something dark and sad creeps up Jungkook’s stomach, and he hates to be the one to tell you. February was when it all started, and his life changed with the presence of you. Jungkook tells himself repeatedly that the woman in this room is simultaneously the person he’s loved since winter and the stranger he feels that he’s meant to love with time. Considering everything’s happening all at once understanding it is still hard, but he’ll try for you. 

It breaks his heart to see how you look lost and confused, like a child woken up from a debilitating nightmare. Your lips are bitten red and purple, trying your hardest not to show fear in front of him, a stranger. You’re frustrated as you try your hardest to shut the windows to block the incoming humidity from last night’s rain. 

He says your name, sweet and soft. “It’s almost summer,” he says, his voice calm and collected. 

“So are you telling me, that wasn’t a dream?” 

The two of you stare at each other, unmoving. He tries not to squirm under your gaze, you watch him intently, scraping at the edge of your brain for any ideas. You’re hugging yourself, arms wrapping against your breasts as if you’re trying to hold your body together in a way that alludes to any brokenness you felt over these past two months. 

Neither of you break the silence, and there’s a bang and a crash. Jungkook flinches at the tell-tale signs of the unwanted intruder, the fling of keys across your wooden table and a shrill call of your name. 

“Who’s that?” 

“Probably Hoseok,” Jungkook answers reluctantly, his thumb rubbing between his brows. 

He ignores the extra cool air against his naked bits when he throws the blankets off his lap. Ignores the way you pointedly, shamelessly check him out as he throws on his sweats and a t-shirt. To his dismay he can’t ignore the burn in his cheeks when he knows how you’re scrutinizing him like a one-night stand, trying to recollect any type of concrete thought that would seem plausible enough to explain why you woke up in bed with him. 

Throwing open your bedroom door and leaving you there, he cards a hand through his rogue bedhead to face a frantic Hoseok. 

“It’s so early,” Hoseok warbles to himself, impressed that he’s managed to cop fresh donuts and coffee at nearly 7AM. 

Jungkook sees nothing but an orange blob and Hoseok’s head, bleary and vibrating. Rubbing his eyes he says, “You just realized how early it is? Couldn’t you have stopped by a little later?” 

“No, I couldn’t!” Hoseok’s now invading Jungkook’s personal space, as if you weren’t the bridge between their threads of a relationship, as if he and Hoseok could be friends. “I woke up a few hours ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I felt it, Jungkook. It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. The air shifted and I felt like I was between two parallel universes—I swear on my bad knee that I’m not going through a drug trip—and I felt the world turning and changing and it was so fuckin’ weird I had to come here as soon as Dunkin’ opened. Didn’t you feel it too?” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook exhales, not bothering to hide the disappointment. He smiles sadly, “it’s definitely not her.” 

Hoseok’s expression and excitement over the world’s converging falters, and he pulls Jungkook into a hug. They’re not particularly close and Hoseok’s smaller in size compared to Jungkook, but for those five seconds he feels comforted as he hugs him back. 

“Why don’t you go home and chill out, I don’t mind explaining things to her,” Hoseok offers, “and I’ll call you later and let you know how it went.” 

“Okay,” Jungkook replies, voice slow, “that sounds like a good idea, actually.” 

The situation is royally messed up, and he hates that he can’t blame it on anyone. Jungkook is a practical man, and he knows that he has no use when Hoseok is here with donuts and coffee. More importantly, there is no use torturing himself by letting his heart break in the presence of  you. 

“What is this, a party?” Taehyung’s bare feet smack against the hardwood, and he plops himself in the chair next to Hoseok, “did you get me coffee this time?” 

The two of them bicker good-naturedly, with Hoseok explaining a little kindness goes a long way and Taehyung muttering that kindness doesn’t happen without caffeine. Jungkook excuses himself, feeling very much out of place as he moves to your bedroom to pack his things. 

“You’re leaving?” you’re standing in the middle of your bedroom, now dressed in a long t-shirt and your hair tied clean and away from your face. You look pretty. 

“Yeah,” he says shortly, stuffing his jeans in his bag and making sure all traces of him are gone from your bedroom. “Need to sort things out,” he excuses, and while you may not buy it, he really does. He feels heartbroken, angry at the world. Maybe he could visit Yoongi today and get a demo in, put all this pent-up emotion to good use. “But Hoseok brought you breakfast, he’s a good friend, he’ll explain everything.” 

“But I don’t know Hoseok,” you mumble, picking at the hem of your band shirt. You’re pouting, stubborn. 

“But you don’t know me either,” Jungkook retorts, not unkindly, but not exactly gentle. “I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you.” 

There’s a hard rip at his zipper, putting in a little too much force as he seals away all his things into a compact backpack. Heck, he even went as far as to take back the hoodie he lent you last month, making sure the fabric is crisp and folded so he can stow it away from your curious eyes. He shoves on his denim jacket from last night, still lingering with the scents of sand and saltwater. It makes him sombre, and the selfish part of him wishes to bottle up that scent and tuck it away forever. 

“You’re wrong,” you blurt when he moves toward the door. His hand lingers over the knob, “I do know you.” 

He narrows his dark eyes, taking in your honest expression, “At Jimin’s job, maybe? I did a couple interviews in the beginning of February. Maybe we passed each other while you had lunch with him.” 

“No. You sang to me, talked to me, as much as you could up until this moment.” 

He remembers the stories you fed to him last night under the stars, shameless and full of love as you explained to him of his other self. The life where he’s a renowned singer, a Golden Boy, one of the most revered in his industry. A life he could only dream of, yet somewhere out there he’s living it in another body making that dream come true. 

Thoughts are running through his head, memories that aren’t his own. He could only imagine what you must’ve gone through, recovering in a hospital bed for two months, unable to move but actively aware of the pain and anguish. How confused you must’ve been, aching to figure out what the hell is going on, acutely aware of the voices constantly chattering about your well-being. 

One of those voices being Jeon Jungkook, who was probably taking care of you night and day. 

His head is starting to throb, and he feels like he’s five seconds away from spiraling. 

“I’d… I’d feel more comfortable around you, Jungkook,” you confess, reaching for his hand, “but if you need to, you can go,” you bite your lip, folding in on yourself once more, “if it hurts too much to be around me right now.” 

He gladly takes your hand, rubbing his thumb between your palm. The familiar sparks he feels when he holds it return, but tamps it down for the sake of your vulnerability. It’s not your fault you’re in this situation. “No… I’m just gonna go home for a bit, clear my schedule,” he gives you a little smile, and he inflates a bit when you give him one of your own. “I’ll come back for you after breakfast.”

“You promise?” 

“Promise.” 

You pull him into an unexpected hug, suddenly fearing he may never come back. 

“I always wondered what the man looked like behind the voice,” and you’re suddenly melting, feeling a sense of familiarity as you let your heart run faster than your brain when you let him hold you in his arms. He smells just like him, too. 

His embrace is tight, and his arms fit in all the little curves and spots that make you feel warm and safe. “And am I living up to your expectations?” it’s a half-joke, after all the both of you are  going simply by feeling and there’s no way in hell would he even attempt to compare himself to well, himself. 

You pull away to look at him, really look at him. Honest, clear eyes. Jungkook thinks he sees the world in your gaze. “Only if you eat a donut before you go,” you reply with a shy smile. 

At your defiant mention of food he can’t help but grin like a maniac, letting you tug him back out to sit at the counter with him and have breakfast. Like he said before, he can’t wait to fall in love all over again. 

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Brittle Blazes || Nicole and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: White Crest National Park PARTIES: @nicsalazar and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Nicole calls in Animal Control to help with a totally normal not at all supernatural bug infestation. Nothing goes wrong what so ever.

A new day at work often meant a new set of problems to deal with. For the most part Nicole didn’t mind, it kept the job interesting. No day was the same. That particular day wasn’t expected to be the most exciting, though. Beetle infestation near one camping ground, they had said in the morning briefing. Animal control would be present later that day and assess the situation. Boring and annoying. Why people bothered to visit the woods if they hated the bugs was something Nicole still struggled to understand. How hard was it to bring spray with you? Perhaps they should’ve tried the beach instead, she mused as she made her way to the ground hours later. Part of her, however, wasn’t convinced the issues were caused by ordinary beetles. It didn’t explain the few trees that straight up collapsed near the grounds in the previous days, or the crying fits a few campers had experienced. Maybe it was all unrelated, though  if she had learned anything in the years at the park, very rarely that was the case. She stood outside the guardhouse, where she expected to meet with animal control, entertaining herself by keeping an eye on the campsite for any signs of strange activity. Everything appeared frustratingly normal, until she heard steps approaching. Hopefully they’d be done with the beetles soon.

There was a lot in Kaden’s life that didn’t make sense right now. Entirely too much, if he was being honest. Work wasn’t one of them. Work hadn’t abandoned him. It didn’t add to any gnawing ache of emptiness or questions. It sure hadn’t slowed down either. He pull his truck up to the guardhouse. He’d made sure all his equipment was in tow considering he had no clue what he was dealing with. Not yet. “Hey,” he called out to the ranger as he got out of the car. “Officer Langley, animal control,” he said, offering her a hand. “So what is it we’re looking at? Dog? Cat?” Monster? The call mentioned something about beetles and he hoped like hell that was a lie. He trusted the park ranger knew better than to call on animal control for that. “Or something else?” He didn’t know where she stood on the whole supernatural thing and he wasn’t going to be the first to let the cat out of the bag on that one. “Call mentioned something about downed trees, right? We looking at something large?” He’d take stock, figure out what he wanted to bring from his truck based on what she said. Either way, he was pretty sure his shotgun was coming with him. Call it intuition. Or just Wicked’s Rest.

“Right” nodding in acknowledgement, Nicole circled around the truck to meet with him. She went for a quick handshake, eyes only meeting his gaze briefly. “Nicole” with a mumble, she motioned behind them,“this way...I’ll show you”. Eyebrows furrowing at the question, Nicole paused before continuing. She had expected him to know something beforehand, the idea of explaining the ridiculous reason for the call making her dread what was coming. “Uh, not even close— really, shouldn’t have bothered you guys, but—” she began, her tone apologetic. An arborist would have dealt with the trees easily. “The trees— it’s just a few odd things piling up” trying to gauge his reaction, she shot a quick look at him. “We got beetles everywhere...people complained, then trees dropping out of nowhere” she had to mention it, despite no obvious correlation. It wasn’t even the weirdest part. “Then...then—” she played with her belt, bracing herself for the strange looks. Luckily, they were reaching their location, away from the campsite and past the bonfires. They would be near the pond in no time, and she wouldn’t have to explain anything else. “Then, two families...crying for no fu—for no reason. Bawling, couldn’t stop them. Thought some sort of gas leak could’ve been the issue but…” she clicked her tongue, shaking her head as they came to a stop. The beetles were crawling everywhere, that much was evident even if she tried to keep some distance. “If I can help with something, let me know”.

“Nice to meet you Nicole,” he said after shaking her hand. Oh, so she was using her first name. Was Kaden dumb for going all “Officer Langley” on her? Putain. He still barely felt like he knew what the hell he was doing sometimes with the official type stuff. The animals and monsters, however, that he could handle. Only he was starting to wonder what it was he was really going up against. “Yeah I heard something about fallen trees. So I assumed…” Well, it was his fault for assuming, wasn’t it? Shit. He rubbed the back of his neck a moment before pulling out some gear from his truck and following along. He hoped like hell it was enough, or appropriate. Guess he’d find out. “Beetles?” His mind started to narrow down the possibilities. Bug looking monster, alright. That, uh, well it left a lot of options for sure. “Alright. Beetles. Trees dropping. How big were they? And, uh, what do you mean by dropping?” She carried on about the families crying and what not. His brow furrowed, trying to piece it together before they reached the site. He was struggling to find the threads. Until he saw them. “Oh shit,” he said as he watched the maroborers crawl along the forest floor and trees. There were so many. “Putain de merde,” he muttered to himself. “We need to get out of here right n--” He turned and saw that they were surrounded. Small beetle sized monsters surrounded them. Monsters that made things brittle. Brittle enough to crumble to pieces at a single touch if they hung out with them too long. “You really should have called pest control, you know. And not-- putain.” He rubbed his temple a moment to think. He didn’t have fucking bug spray on him. “Fire will work. So will crushing them. But it’s a risk. Both of them. Fuck.”

Nicole pressed her lips into a thin smile at the pleasantry. One look at his equipment calmed some of her nerves. It seemed he had brought something for every possibility. “The size of—the beetles...or, the trees?” she took a moment to glance at him, brow furrowed in confusion. She cleared her throat, rubbing her jaw before continuing “Just that. They collapsed. Healthy trees—weren’t due for any kind of maintenance. No one got hurt, luckily”.  It seemed Officer Langley had managed to figure out the root of the problem the second he laid eyes on the scene. Her eyebrows shot up impressed, thinking of commenting on his knowledge, until he said they had to leave. Taking a step back out of instinct, her eyes widened at his reaction. What was so bad about some beetles? She did agree with him however, that Animal Control shouldn’t have been called in the first place. “Fi—fire. You want to...” she lifted her hand, pointing at the trees surrounding them, “you wanna to burn things...” in a National Park was left unsaid. Judging by the tone of his words she suspected he understood how absurd the suggestion was, or she hoped so. But, if he had been quick enough to assess the problem, she had to trust he knew the right solution. Even if that meant starting a fire in an area it was very much forbidden to do so. Still, she preferred to leave that as a last resort. “Got—I’ve a can of bug spray you can use?” she helplessly offered, hand ghosting over her pocket. No, that was stupid. Why did she say that? One spray wouldn’t do shit against all those bastards. She had underestimated how bad the issue was and the reports hadn’t been too informative either. “W--Why’s crushing them a risk?” she glanced down, finding a few of them crawling under her boot. It could be so easy to do.

“The beetles but I’m not sure I need an answer anymore,” he said, looking around them at the scope of the issue. Kaden really wished they had been facing a big monster knocking down the trees. Like a bies or even a werewolf or literally anything else other than what they were up against. He rubbed his brow, trying to plan the best way to handle this. Safely. “I’m really fucking aware a fire in a forest is a bad idea, alright. I’m just saying it would work.” And possibly destroy half of White Crest’s woods. Which might not be a bad thing considering how many monsters loved there. Putain de merde, no he couldn’t think like that. Probably didn’t work that way in this cursed fucking town anyway. The fire would cause something bigger, badder, far worse. “These bugs. They have pheromones or some shit that make things brittle. Very. They could drill a hole in your skin. Or worse.” As if on cue, Kaden looked over to see a tree covered in the marob just crumble right in front of them. Shit. Fucking shit they were getting closer. Instinctively he stepped on the few threatening to climb up his shoes, slamming his heel down as he killed what he could. He could already feel the rubber sole of his boot getting stiffer, his steps having less give. Fuck. “Spray a path!” he shouted at her. “And cover your face as best you--” A few of the bugs started flying, buzzing near them. He held his jacket up in front of his face, trying to shield it as best he could. “Faster, any fucking faster!” he snapped.

Nicole stared dumbly at Langley as he explained, processing all the information he was throwing at her. Pheromones. Making trees collapse. Drilling holes in your skin. Normal stuff. She swat away a few coming at her face, wincing as she another tree crumbled, this time in front of them. Her mind began to race. Tentative fingers brushed against her radio, debating whether to call for back-up. Did they have resources and equipment for skin drilling bugs? No, they most definitely didn’t. She lowered her hand, deciding against her initial idea. It would only expose more people to it. She could run back, it wouldn’t take her more than a couple  minutes. And then what? Bring the whole stock of bug spray? No, they needed to act fast. She was already failing by going over possibilities while the officer was already taking action. It was just them against the bugs, then. His shout seemed to snap her out of her thoughts, and with a swift move she seized the bottle and sprayed as told. It felt like an uphill battle. As much as she sprayed, the bugs kept finding different paths to get to them. She raised the collar of her shirt to her nose, shaking her spray until it was empty. She coughed, paranoia setting in. It was too late for her. She could feel it. Particles, pheromones, whatever the fuck, in her throat, in her lungs. She remained stoic, a slight frown the only tell sign that something was happening inside her. The bugs flew closer now, from every direction. “Look just— just burn it all down” she let out, breathless. No. No that wasn’t a good idea, it was a terrible, dangerous, very illegal idea. But she couldn’t think straight knowing she might turn into dust any second now. She stumbled backward, “I’ll—I’ll get some extinguishers. The—the bonfires are close...we have them there” and buckets, she remembered. They could use the pond's water too. For once she didn’t wait for the okay, she couldn’t waste another second. She shot one last distraught look at the officer before she took off as fast as her legs allowed her, no time for pretending to be human.

Kaden pulled his collar up to try and cover his face, but it didn’t do much. Putain, putain, putain. They were definitely going to ingest some of the pheromones, no doubt about it. He just hoped it wasn’t too much. At least she acted fast enough, spraying the bugs away and he followed her as they picked a path away from them. Or tried to, at least. He ran after her, trying to breathe as little as possible. Which wasn’t exactly possible while running. “Burn it down?” It sure sounded like a terrible plan but he wasn’t going to argue with her when he didn’t have a better one. “Okay.” His words were muffled by the fabric attempting to cover his face. She ran off to what he assumed was the bonfires. Really fast, too. Huh. She must have been a runner. Right. Okay. Focus. Burning down. Burn it down. He was going to burn down the forest to kill the maroberers. With what? That’s right. He rummaged one handed for his lighter. Shit, shit, shit, this was an awful idea. He looked down and he saw flakes coming off of his jacket. Putain. He liked this jacket, too. “Fucking hell,” he grumbled to himself, wasting breath he shouldn’t and breathing in more pheromones with every word. Great. He had a lighter. Now the fuck what? He stomped his feet around him, doing everything he could to squash the bugs nearby, frantically looking for something, anything, that would catch. Leaves. Pile of leaves. That was about to be overtaken by bugs. Putain. Kaden ran over, desperately holding his jacket in front of his face as he did, his lungs begging for deeper breaths, more air than he was allowing. He flipped open the lighter and did his best to coax it alive. It caught and started to burn, blazing brighter with every second. He scrambled for more leaves, branches, to build it, help it move along the woods. Hopefully she got back with that extinguisher soon. And shit, how to get the bugs in the flames. He exhaled a small sigh. Was he really going to sacrifice the jacket? At least it wasn’t his favorite. Putain. He shrugged it off him and started using it to scoop up bugs and throw them on the flames. The fire was growing as he did, but the bugs kept coming. Shit.

Nicole couldn’t remember the last time she had run at full speed. Years and years ago, no doubt. She had been too concerned with appearing human to ever attempt it. It was entirely too freeing, but she had no time to process the conflicting feelings. She powered through, despite the dryness in her throat and her lungs threatening to collapse. Long strides and fast cadence, she made it to the campfires site in a matter of minutes. Her legs weren’t the only thing running, though. She couldn’t stop her panicky mind. She was going to be in so much trouble. Probation time at least, if she was extremely lucky. What was she thinking? She wasn’t, clearly. If those things could get in her brain too, they definitely were. She didn’t want to think about the problems she could get officer Langley into. She had trusted him blindly. Stupidly, almost. He seemed knowledgeable and prepared. But what if he got it wrong? What if arson wasn’t needed and she had gone and supported him on that insane idea for nothing? She burst into the empty station and barged straight into the storage to gather what she needed. One, two fire extinguishers. The biggest they had. Her chest heaved painfully, eyes darting across the poorly illuminated room. Her stomach sank. She didn’t have enough hands for every item. Tears began to sting in the corners of her eyes. Was it frustration at her incompetence to blame, or the bug’s pheromones doing its work? She couldn’t tell. Both were equally likely. Judging by the smell, Langley had succeeded at starting the fire. He needed her now. Fuck, it was such a bad idea. She blinked tears away furiously, stacking a couple of buckets and slid her hand under the handles, holding them with her wrist. Two extinguishers in her hands, she took off. She clenched her jaw, breathing sharply through her nose. The knot in her throat was messing with her. The smoke column was easy to spot, and within minutes, she made it back to the officer. To say he was struggling was an understatement. “Fuck” fuck, fuck, fuck. He didn’t look close to done. They couldn’t put out  the fire yet. She dropped everything and took off her own jacket, imitating the man’s motion to lure the bugs into the fire. People would start to notice if they hadn’t already. The smell, the smoke. “Now what?!”, her shout was muffled by the elbow covering her nose.

“That was fast,” Kaden said as she came sprinting back with the extinguishers. He’d hardly noticed she had left. Might not have even believed she had made it all the way there and back  had it not been for the extinguishers in her hand. Little by little, the fire was growing, but it was slow. “Come on, come on,” Kaden said to it, as if it could respond to him. Shit, that was stupid. Speaking meant he was breathing more. And that meant… Fuck. He kept shoveling bugs into the flames alongside her. It was doing something, but not enough. He had to figure something out. He had to. He turned around, spinning, looking for anything when he crashed right into her as she was continuing funnel bugs to the flames. “Watch it!” he snapped. It was harsher than he’d expected it to be, angry and sharp. Huh. Oh well. Even so, something clicked. “Bug spray! Now!” he said as he reached out to yank the can from her. He turned and started spraying a line on the ground, back and forth, as much as he could. Then he pulled out his lighter again. “Back up!” It was the only warning he gave before he set the area on fire. The flames roared to life, brighter and faster than the other. He threw more leaves and under brush towards it along with whatever insects he could manage. “Get off me you fucking assholes!” he yelled at them as he flung them away from him. The bugs were dwindling. The just might have dealt with them. The problem was the fire was catching. Rapidly. “Shit. Shit! We have to run! Or something!” he said, backing up towards her. He wasn’t sure a fire extinguisher or two was going to cut it. Putain.

Focused on the task at hand, Nicole could barely hear what the officer was saying, choosing to remain quiet instead. Her brain registered his words a moment later. She had been so concerned about the urgency of the situation that she hadn’t stopped to consider how fast she had been. She hoped, with the adrenaline of the moment he wouldn’t pick up on certain things. After all, who would think about sprint times when the threat of turning into dust loomed over them. Priorities, right? It was becoming difficult to breathe properly while covering her face from the beetles and the tears filling her eyes didn’t help to guide the bugs the right way. She huffed when he crashed into her, but stood her ground. Through glossy eyes she shot him an angry look. Did he have to be so clumsy? She shook her head, that was hardly something to get mad about, the fuck? She let him take the spray, surprised there was any left, but it seemed to do the trick. The fire grew faster than before. Perhaps a little too fast— in the blink of an eye it seemed to get out of hand. Not that she ever fully believed starting a fire was a good idea to begin with, but seeing the rapid destruction in front of her brought more tears to her eyes. She couldn’t blame it on bugs’ pheromones. Though maybe it was increasing her own proclivity to cry about many things. She had to call the fire management unit. If people saw she stood there and did nothing to stop the flames she’d be fired. She reached for her radio, but a wild flame jumped toward them. She stumbled backward, as Langley shouted for them to run. That was smart yes, but she couldn’t do that. She didn’t do smart. ‘Or something’ sounded better. Her hand closed on his forearm and she forcefully tugged him backward, to where she had dropped the extinguishers. Taking one, she pulled the pin to unlock it, wasting no time to squeeze the levers. “Get the other one!” the knot in her throat made her voice shaky, her order sounding more like a plea. They had to control it somehow.

Kaden was prepared to take off running. He wasn’t a fucking fire fighter. He threw himself into a lot of danger, sure, but standing around while there was a fucking forest fire? Not one of them. But she grabbed his wrist and kept him there. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he shot her. “Just us and two fucking fire ex--” He started coughing before he could get all the words out. But honestly, they were going to be the force to stop this shit? Fucking hell. He still thought they should run. It was clear she wasn’t leaving, though. He could pick her up and carry her. Fuck, that’d slow him down way too much it wouldn’t be worth it. “Bordel de merde, “ he grumbled to himself, picking up the stupid fucking extinguisher. This was moronic. He tried to cover his face with his collar again before pulling the pin for the extinguisher. The heat from the flames stung his eyes and breathing was getting harder and harder. But he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? He stood there and doused the flames as best he could with the extinguisher. At first, he wasn’t sure if it was working, the flames seemed like they were fighting back with everything they had. But there was no other option but to stand there and keep trying. At least for now. “Is this,” he coughed some more, “is this working?”

“Just— shut...shut the fuck up and help, jesus!” despite hearing her own voice, the words still felt foreign. Nicole couldn’t remember the last time she had been so frustrated. She didn’t have time to question her sanity. Not when all she could focus on was putting out the fire. Between the smoke and the pheromones, she wasn’t sure her lungs were having the best of times. Thankfully, their combined efforts seemed to appease the flames, if only for a brief moment of hope. It was easy to ignore the stabbing pain under her ribs, or the way her legs felt like giving up when it appeared they would get things under control. At least, she couldn’t see any more beetles flying. Small victories. The fire fought back, however, extending despite the initial decline. It caught nearby trees, violently consuming one. It crumbled in front of them, causing her to retreat. All the progress they had made, gone. She shook her head, groaning at the physical effort. No, it wasn’t working. “God” a sob escaped her lips, turning into a cough fit. “It—it’s not. It’s...n—ot” her chest heaved as she gasped for air. She tried to hold onto him, but he wasn't at reaching distance. She dropped the extinguisher to the floor, her arm felt like it was gonna fall as well. She had to contact the firefighters. They would ask questions, investigate, sure. It was their job. They’d realize it was intentional. She didn’t think the bug threat would be a valid excuse. But she couldn’t risk the officer’s life any longer. “Run....” she managed to rasp, weakly motioning him to drop the extinguisher. Bringing a hand to her chest, she picked up her radio and did what she should’ve done in the first place. She stumbled backward, trying to get to Langley. Now they had to run to safety before the flames embraced them.

“I fucking am!” Kaden snapped back. He grumbled some more as he continued trying to fight the flames. As much as they were trying to push the fire back, it was winning. The heat and smoke slowly overtook the area growing and spreading faster than they could work. It was more than some sily fire extinguishers could handle. For a moment, he was stunned and stood in silent awe. Then he felt the smoke prick at his eyes and lungs, snapping back into reality. Shit. He heard her gasping behind him. She suggested what they should have done all along. Run. She didn’t have to tell him twice. He turned and started to run. Every step felt harder and hard. His lungs pleaded for more air, but each breath pulled in more smoke. His pace slowed, the coughs started to take over as he stumbled through the brush. She was just in front of him. Good. She could run faster. She’d be okay. He didn’t have to worry about her. Just had to keep pushing forward. His legs felt like lead but he kept going. Until his foot caught on a root, sending him sprawled on the forest floor, doubled over and coughing. Fuck. He groaned as he pushed himself up. Had to beat the flames. Had to keep moving. A little farther and they were at the office, his truck still parked in front. “Get in,” he said through coughs as he swung open the driver’s side door, throwing himself inside. He had no idea if they were in the clear this far up but he didn’t want to take any chances. “I’ll call it in, too,” he said, “but we have to get out of here.”

Once she made sure Langley had understood the message, Nicole took off. Her legs weren’t as powerful as they had been earlier, but still maintained a good distance from the flames. Her attention was on the steps behind her, turning every now and then to make sure he still followed. Her stomach sank when she heard him stumble, freezing for a moment before she saw him pick himself up. She watched him until she was sure he could continue. And they ran again, this time the station in sight. Somehow she managed to climb the truck as he ordered, smashing the door shut. Only then she allowed herself to believe danger was behind them. She threw her head back, panting painfully. The pressure in her chest wouldn’t let her catch her breath. She lifted her arm to her forehead, noticing how hot her skin was. She was dying for some water. She turned in her seat, trying to get a look through the back window. They were at a safe distance, but the flames would keep growing. Her heart hammered wildly in her ears. Or was it his? Bringing the radio to her lips, she waited. When the other end spoke up, she let out a shaky breath before relaying the information. She did her best not to let her voice waver, being as precise as her foggy brain allowed her. After the location details, she advised to dispatch more than one management unit, though she figured they’d assess that on site. Once the static signaled the end of the conversation, she groaned, another fit of cough taking over her body. She spared one look at the officer. She was ready to hear the ‘I told you so’. She deserved it. She had been so reckless. And shit— was she going to keep crying? How powerful were those bugs? She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Shit...you alright?” No, of course not. What could she even say to him? “Sorry for— snapping at you and…” she coughed, “sorry...I really thought—-I don’t...don’t know what I thought.”

As soon as they were both in the truck, Kaden took off down the winding path back towards the main road. It wasn’t reckless driving but it sure wasn’t the pinnacle of safety. He grabbed his own radio and started calling it into the WCPD, doubling down on the need for the fire department. The fire in the woods would only grow for the time being, it would swallow up everything in sight. He needed to be sure it wasn’t them. There were no screams in the distance, no marker of his imminent death that he could make out. That didn’t do much to stop his heart from hammering. He turned the truck, parked it at the side of the entrance to the park, leaning over the wheel and letting out a few more coughs he’d been holding back. It took him a moment to make out what she was saying in between hacking up his own lungs, but when he turned he saw she was tearing up. “It’s fine. You don’t--” He started but sighed before he could figure out what he was trying to say. “You don’t have to apologize. I--” Kaden was fairly certain this was his fault. Hell, this was his idea anyway. He turned back to look at the smoke billowing up through the trees in the distance. He had no idea if it was the right call. The maroberers in that area were dead, certainly. But he’d helped burn down who knew how much of the forest. Then again, White Crest. Those woods were dangerous. Maybe it was the right call after all. “This was my idea. You don’t have to--” He looked back over at her. Clearly she didn’t have to handle situations quite like this too often. He wished he could say the same. “You alright? I’m not… I’m not sure if we can leave the scene. But I can see if one of my colleagues can drive by with something.” Kaden wasn’t sure how to be reassuring in these sorts of moments. “It’ll be okay,” he told her. “Just breathe. It’ll be okay. This will pass.”

It had to be the most intense car ride Nicole had experienced. If it weren't for the threat of fire hovering over them, it would’ve been a thrilling experience. That thought alone was proof her emotions weren’t in check yet. When he approached the park’s entrance, her breathing was  less shallow. Anger towards him bubbled again when he spoke. She would’ve preferred him to be honest. It was definitely not fine, not when the flames had already consumed so much  territory. Fuck, she hoped it’d stay away from the campsite. She opened her mouth to reply a few times, finding herself with nothing to say. She was even angrier at herself. She should’ve said no. Had she suddenly forgotten what her job was supposed to be? She forced herself not to think about her job situation after everything. She wouldn’t snap at him again, though. As much as it would’ve made her feel better. He couldn’t feel that great either. He had started the fire after all. “No. No we can’t—they’ll want” she pressed her lips tightly, frustrated at her own tears she shook her head, “we’ll have to talk to them” he knew, there was no point in explaining it. “I’m...I’m—the bugs...” she set her jaw, failing to explain why she still appeared to be tearing up. She exhaled sharply when he told her to breathe. She wasn’t even sure the difficulty to get air into her lungs was down to the smoke anymore, she really hated to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger. She couldn’t see, realistically, how things could be okay, but if that’s what he needed to tell himself she wasn’t going to go against it. Apprehensive eyes met his gaze for a moment, before examining his face. He was a mess, she had to be in a similar state. She wanted to thank him for not leaving her behind, but she couldn’t get her mouth to work. Eyebrows knit together, she nodded slowly. “Okay” was all she said, before opening the door. At the distance she began to hear sirens. All she could do now was to hope it’d be over soon.

[punkscowardschampions]

Edie & Billie

Edie: You’re not at home, are you?

Billie: Why?

Edie: ‘cos Rih has to babysit and you are the last phone a friend that needs to be eliminated 👾

Billie: 💀🔋 if anyone but you is asking

Edie: that’s the 👻

Edie: Even convinced Jun to get the fuck out

Billie: with what 👻? 👽 ?👾 🤡 ?🎃 🤖? madness

Edie: 👻 ish

Edie: there’s some exhibit at some museum, idk, it actually wasn’t my idea so I can’t take cred

Billie: 🦖 🦴 🦕 was next guess

Billie: safe that the 👻 🔮 came through with a plan

Edie: 👽 more like

Edie: that’s the best I can do with emojis anyway

Billie: 💬 💬 💬 💬

Edie: I met the most perfect boy

Billie: Dude not you catching a dose too 🚱

Edie: I’ve gone outside of the gene pool so it is not the same thing at all

Billie: 👍 start

Billie: Go on, what else has he got going for him?

Edie: Only everything

Edie: he’s perfect, I just said

Edie: You know that really tall, ridiculously good-looking boy in Rih’s year

Billie: 🤨 💭 ?

Billie: it’ll come to me

Billie: Aha! The one who [some rave story she’s heard of something wild he did]

Edie: I don’t know how you didn’t just KNOW but yeah

Edie: that sounds like him 🤩

Billie: he’s been working at ⛽️ [the location of said petrol station like whatever road it’s on] nights I’ve gone in

Edie: That’s good to know

Edie: I can go in too now

Edie: 💡

Billie: 👻

Edie: It’s so weird how we met actually

Edie: the thread has 90k people on it, what are the chances, how does that happen

Billie: spooky how many posts you could’ve missed before, weird if he ain’t wrote any til today & then replied to yours 🔮 🛸 🧲

Edie: He’s deffo been on there before, I recognised the username

Edie: but he mentioned somewhere in Dublin so then I knew he was at least from around here

Edie: I’d have never talked to him before, it’s deffo fate

Billie: fated if he agreed the monster was a copout reveal

Edie: He’s not 12, so duh

Edie: He’s so cool

Billie: It’s defs him?

Edie: Come on, like I’m gonna get catfished

Billie: this is wild odds, all I’m saying

Edie: It would be weirder if they worked out where I went to School, and then picked some boy who also went to that School to use

Edie: anyway, he’s sent me stuff today so I know it’s really him

Billie: he does look like someone to use for 🎣 but I can picture him on that thread loads

Edie: 🤤🤤🤤

Edie: Do you think he’ll come see me

Billie: yeah, why not

Edie: Aforementioned hotness, he could get ANY girl

Edie: I don’t know who he has gone out with before

Edie: didn’t he go out with one of Rih’s friends for a while?

Billie: [a pause while she has a convo with her friends about this because she has many and they’re mostly lads so at least some of them must know him or have some info]

Billie: Last seen with Lexie but that was time ago & nobody since

Edie: Hmm

Edie: I’m nothing like Lexie

Billie: he ain’t still with her & wasn’t for long, I’d assume he’s looking for different

Edie: and that’s me 🥴

Edie: charming 😏

Billie: 👽

Billie: She hasn’t said anything ☢️⚠️ I’m hearing now, that’s chill

Edie: she’s a bitch anyway, I wouldn’t trust her

Billie: if Blips is accurate on his timeline, even she couldn’t be that much of a bitch

Edie: ?

Billie: Everything with his sister was fresh then, apparently

Edie: Oh

Edie: I remember her, she had a nice smile

Billie: I don’t think I ever met her, it’s gone out my head if I did

Billie: the memorial he made for her is sicker than anything the teachers would’ve though, we hang there constantly

Billie: Take this info with 🧂 yeah? the source is Blips

Edie: She was a lot older

Edie: would’ve been, your paths probably didn’t cross

Edie: makes sense

Edie: he would’ve wanted someone around

Billie: makes sense he’s not thinking straight to pick Lexie to be that someone, but idk man, you can have your fill of pity quick enough

Edie: Maybe someone in her family died? I can see that and making that connection

Edie: not a sibling obviously or we’d know but she’s pretty dramatic, like all Rih’s friends are

Billie: not above milking a dead nan, bet

Edie: 💭 exactly

Edie: Poor Liam, that’s kinda fucking gross

Billie: bad taste in my mouth from being the messenger

Edie: I won’t say it was ages ago because that’d feel a bit like spitting on her grave but you know

Edie: fuck Lizzie or whatever her name is

Edie: she’s probably had 100 lads since then

Billie: Yeah, fuck Lizzie

Billie: what’s next for you & him?

Edie: I don’t know

Edie: I sort of asked him to come ‘round but not just like that

Edie: so his answer was as open-ended, I guess

Edie: I really hope he does though

Billie: he doesn’t know you’re unshockable & didn’t wanna freak you out by coming through the window on a real dark & stormy night

Billie: tracks if Lexie is his point of ref, she’s known for saying what she don’t mean

Edie: ugh, she’s really fucked that up for me

Edie: I should go cockblock her too

Edie: that’s a good idea actually

Billie: You could roll up if he’s working, let him know you’re not alike

Edie: If I roll up on her, he will 😈

Billie: 😶 cos idk how he rolls

Edie: You think he’ll be 😱 / 🤬

Billie: He could think you’re jealous, which would put you looking like her 🤡

Billie: lads always go to that headspace

Edie: most lads

Edie: like your mates who can’t spell their own names without checking with their ma first

Edie: I don’t think he’s like that

Billie: I’ll bite, what’s he like?

Edie: emojis weren’t covering it but I dunno if I even can with actual words either

Edie: he’s like no one else I’ve ever spoken to, I wasn’t bored, and he wasn’t weirded out

Billie: You weren’t even a bit bored?

Edie: nah

Edie: I felt like I was barely keeping up

Billie: 🤯

Edie: but he wasn’t trying to be impressive how lads do, because that isn’t

Billie: he was waiting for whatever he sent to impress you, which worked

Edie: he sent me lots of stuff

Edie: not 🍆 pics

Billie: he looks like he’d be a fuckboy

Edie: right?

Edie: he’s got too much about him though

Edie: I would’ve gone with it if he wanted, he had the chance

Billie: 🤯🤯

Edie: come on

Edie: you can see him

Billie: & I can hear you, you don’t say this kinda shit about anyone

Edie: I know, I’m deadly serious

Edie: 💀💀💀

Billie: What a day

Edie: Don’t tell anyone else yet though

Edie: I think he feels it too

Edie: but just in case

Billie: 🤐

Billie: he blatantly does, but that’s up to yous two to broadcast if you want, how you want

Billie: I’m just excited for the reveal 🎟 🍿 📺 🕹 📷 💻 📼 💿

Edie: He makes films too

Edie: and I’m writing a song right now

Billie: link me

Edie: [do, at least the ones that are clearly not private or whatever]

Edie: 😍

Billie: Cool, I’m gonna check these while you go 😈 on Lexie

Edie: If you hear her scream, no you didn’t

Edie: 😘✌️

Billie: not her 🩸 🦷 🦴 got it

Edie: only partly

Edie: she’s only 3rd on my shit-list, after-all

Billie: if I give you away with a new tic, no I didn’t & they’ll never convict 🤪✌️

Edie: so lucky you can shout ableism if it comes down to it

Edie: ADHD is an excuse for nothing except maybe being five minutes late 🙄

Billie: I’m not going for that with a free pass to shout out at the law 🐷 🐽 🐖 🥓

Edie: you can brag about your free pass, I only get caught when I want to ☠️✊

Billie: not a humble brag you can throw out to your new man, going off these locations I’m recognising, he’s got skills at never getting caught

Billie: How’d he get into [somewhere he should not be]?!

Edie: that’d be telling 🤫

Edie: I told you, he’s really smart

Billie: How didn’t we have a clue about him pretty much?

Edie: because he looks like a fuckboy, I suppose

Edie: you know Rih is gonna act like he’s a decade older than me because she thinks she’s so mature

Billie: 🙄

Edie: I can’t wait to call her out on her bullshit again with something new to add

Edie: can’t wait for the opposition like she’s got a leg left

Billie: She’ll run out fast, he’s cool

Edie: She’s not

Edie: but whatever, she can’t do anything

Billie: No chill, but he’s barely older, so if that’s her only 🔫

Edie: and he went out with Lexie ages ago, well, basically

Edie: she can’t act like she’s really good friends with him, I KNOW she isn’t

Billie: & she wasn’t in Lexie face not to go out with him, couldn’t cos there’s nothing wrong with him 🤷🏼‍♀️

Edie: you act like she’s rational but yeah

Edie: I don’t care, I know this is right

Edie: and what I want

Billie: She’s not, like, irrational enough to be hating on your happiness

Edie: I hate on hers

Billie: that’s different

Edie: not to her

Billie: Yeah but in terms of you & Liam

Edie: If she tries to be nice that’ll be even worse 😷

Billie: minding her own business isn’t gonna happen

Edie: I wish she’d keep hers to herself

Edie: I can’t stand it when he’s here

Edie: I’ll kill Lizzie and steal her bed

Billie: least you can stay at his soon

Edie: 😋

Billie: [frames of one of the videos cos the location is some end of summer event, why not] & you’ll be there together this year

Edie: You really think?

Billie: I don’t think you’ll be dumped quicker than Lexie

Edie: Damn fucking right

Edie: even if he was after one thing, I could do it better than her

Billie: [deletes that message like I don’t wanna read about your sexcapades thank you]

Billie: 🎧 🔊

Edie: [retypes it more vividly which I won’t subject you to lmao]

Billie: NAH

Edie: 😂😂😂

Edie: you’re alright, I’ve got another level to my mission now

Edie: [deets of the scavenger hunt thing]

Billie: Did he sort it for you?

Edie: Yep 😍

Billie: this lad

Billie: unreal

Edie: I think I’m in love

Billie: Someone offer to make him for you in a lab? getting sus otherwise

Edie: That would make sense

Edie: he’s way too perfect

Edie: not that I’m mad

Billie: 🏩 💕 💐 🧸 💞

Edie: 💍💒👶

Billie: [deletes that like calm down lol]

Edie: 👶👶👶👶👶👶👶 maybe

Billie: When’s the [some meteor shower or comet that’d feel very fated and cosmic and therefore we must]? invite him to that first

Edie: 🛸

Edie: I just need to think of a way to tell him where and when

Billie: You’ll be looking up for it, makes sense if he has to 👀⬆️ to find out

Billie: I’d put something on his roof

Edie: About the only place he’d genuinely have to look up to see

Edie: might be less literal

Edie: 💻

Billie: that’ll work too

Edie: plus if you reckon he’ll think I’m mental for hitting up Linda, finding out where he lives without asking will really tip it

Billie: romantic gestures are mental, less of a public ambush than most are

Edie: Everything fun is

Billie: Yeah, but nothing’s fun about getting asked out in the hallway between lessons or whatever 💩 is meant to pass for 😍

Edie: Well yeah, that’s too American teen drama for words

Edie: are his friends gonna be standing there pissing themselves at you believing it even for a sec

Billie: if it’s me his mates are stood about meowing cos some tics refuse to 💀

Edie: That’s cute

Edie: at least you aren’t saying some embarrassing untrue shit

Billie: my true form is 🐱 🐈 & I’m saying the truest shit since 👶🏼 🧒🏼

Edie: I know enough not to throw out suggestions for your head to grab but I’ve seen people saying wild things that you’d get eaten alive for

Edie: but duh, how else did we end up with you

Billie: I know not to watch that shit & maybe 🐦 it but yeah, love to my non-verbals 😝 😜 🤪 ✌️ 🖕 👍

Billie: & to ma for never meeting a stray she didn’t love

Edie: I’ll wait ‘til you wrong me ‘fore I add you to the shit list and send ‘em your way

Edie: tRIGgeRd ❗️❗️❗️❗️

Edie: 💗

Billie: Well I ain’t gonna develop a convenient new 👊 one OR pull a Lexie & wheel out my dead relative to steal your bf 💚

Edie: Ha, don’t

Billie: wouldn’t know what to do with him after using him as a 🛹 ramp & 🚴🏼‍♀️ jump

Edie: I’m the only one allowed to jump him tah

Billie: 😷

Edie: Okay I need to focus on this last one

Edie: see you at home

Billie: k

Billie: see you soon 🏴‍☠️

[kazimakuwabara]

Counundrum 4

Part 4 to this

Kuwabara remains seated on his spot on the ground, his mouth open in awe as Toya and Hiei fight.

He can’t see a damn thing with his eyes, but his spiritual awareness is going crazy. He has a feeling if he closed his eyes, he’d have a better understanding of how the fight was going, but he's too stunned to do that just yet.

Kuwabara eases himself up slowly, and rotates his shoulder until the tense muscle in his back, behind his shoulder blade, unwinds. He sighs with relief as the pain eases off, and looks out in front of him and up, where he can sense the two demons fighting. He manages to catch a flash of blue, and then black, and catches a few angry words.

“What were you doing?” That was Toya.

“What right do you have to know?” And that was Hiei.

Kuwabara catches a few more words like, “Apologize,” and, “Fuck off,” but like the two dueling demons fight, he can’t keep up with the conversation either.

Kuwabara rubs his temple, and shouts, “Guys would you fuckin’ stop! Why the hell are you two even fighting!? Toya! You overreacted! I’m fine! Hey!”

There is no answer, but Kuwabara sees a tree get knocked over to the left, and then sees Toya struggling to get up from the remains. Hiei stands several yards away, his sword drawn and his left sleeve torn.

The hairs on the back of Kuwabara’s neck stand up, as he suddenly worries about the fight getting deadly. He hopes that's not the case, but the sight of the two glaring at each other makes Kuwabara's skin goosebumps anxiously. This is not going well.

“Guys! GUYS! Stop being idiots!” Kuwabara shouts jogging towards them. He needs to explain. Hiei didn't hurt him. Whatever Toya thought he saw, didn't happen. And Kuwabara also wants to tell Hiei he rejected Toya already; that there is nothing going on between them. Kuwabara's not sure what good that would do for Hiei to hear, but it would make Kuwabara feel better.

Toya disappears, and Kuwabara tries to do a retreat as he senses what is about to happen. He doesn’t have enough time to dodge or stop, as Toya reappears in front of him, hooking his arm around Kuwabara’s waist, and picking him up like he is nothing. It's rough, and he makes an, "Oof!' sounds as the air is knocked out of him.

Kuwabara fucking hates how strong demons are.

He hears Hiei growl somewhere behind him, but Kuwabara is lifted in the air, and then deposited underneath a shade of a tree. Toya’s brow is bleeding as he sets Kuwabara down with gentle care and cautions, “Stay here, you’ll be safe.”

Toya’s gone in a blink, but Kuwabara hopes he hears his angry shout of, “Are you fucking kidding me???” 

Kuwabara did not need to be scooped up and shuffled out of the way, because if there’s one thing Kuwabara can trust, is Hiei is not going to hit him. Not on purpose or accident. They've gone after each other before, but in a real fight, Hiei would never hit a teammate, or even a civilian for that matter. Hiei is in perfect control, even with his explosive abilities. Kuwabara wonders if that means Toya has less control of what he might do. If that’s the case, then if anyone is a danger to Kuwabara here, then it’s Toya.

Kuwabara hears Hiei’s energy collide with Toya’s, and the intense pressure of it makes Kuwabara think Hiei has come to the same conclusion.

This day, this plan Kuwabara had.... has gotten really fucking messy really quick.

Kuwabara is getting to his feet, when a hand clamps on his shoulder, and he jumps, shrieking in fright.

“Jesus! Chill, Kuwabara!” Yusuke says, flinching a little from Kuwabara’s reaction. 

Kurama is at Yusuke’s side, eyes darting left and right, mouth open in surprise. Kuwabara's a little jealous Kurama can keep up with it all. Can Kuwabara do more training? Does he have time after classes?

“We felt the fight from Kurama’s!” Yusuke says drawing Kuwabara’s attention again. “What’s going on? What’s Toya doing here?”

“He came to talk to me,” Kuwabara tries to explain, wondering if he should come clean about his lie about actually going to the demon world.

“What caused this?” Kurama asks, wincing as another tree is knocked over. Half burnt, and half covered in ice.

“Shit, they’re really trying to take each other out!” Yusuke says, fighting to sound serious and not amused.

The pair of them keep talking over Kuwabara, and he can’t get a word in. He growls in frustration as he realizes that they aren’t going to let him answer. Why ask a fucking question, if you don't want an answer?

“We should stop them before this gets out of hand!” Kurama continues, as Kuwabara tries to speak again.

“Stay right here Kuwabara, we got this!” Yusuke says, a hand squeezing Kuwabara’s shoulder.

Kurama and Yusuke take off the join the fray, and Kuwabara takes in a long breath.

This is all really, really, really stupid, and really frustrating.

‘It’s what I get for trying to come up with a fuckin' plan to trick these guys. Why the hell did I think I could trick them? I should have just told them they were assholes, and punched Hiei in his stupid head, and made him admit to Yukina who he was! I don’t have the smarts, and I don’t have the fuckin’ luck to get away with tricking them!’ Kuwabara thinks angrily, as his friends' burst of power explodes all around them.

Yusuke is trying to stop Hiei, and Kurama is trying to stop Toya.

He’s pissed that people keep shuffling him around, physically and emotionally. He’s even madder that apparently no one thinks he can be trusted to take care of himself. So they can keep Kuwabara out of the loop and feel fine by that, and now apparently he can be left out of a fight, that was about him.

No one can trust him with secrets, no one can trust that the can handle anything... is that it?

It's unfair. Hasn't he done enough to prove he's part of the team? He's with them? Is he just doomed to be left behind?

“I’m fucking done with this!” Kuwabara growls out, and steps out into the area where he feels his friends power the most. He kneels and presses glowing fingertips to the ground.

There’s a new technique he’s been trying to do with his spirit power. He got the idea from reading X-men comics in between study sessions. There’s a character, Gambit, who can put his mutation in cards, and when he throws them, they explode. He is dispersing his power so that it can be used in another way.

Kuwabara’s been wanting to try that.

He closes his eyes, and he can feel his friends’ presence much stronger than he could with his eyes open. Kurama and Genkai have said something about this making it easier for the third eye to open, or something like that. All Kuwabara knows is it works, and he pinpoints the quarreling demons with ease.

He splits his Jigen To into four, has it splits itself down his fingers. Kuwabara attaches more of his energy to the ends. Like needles and thread, he sends his splintered sword down into the ground, and cuts through the current dimension to disappear, and then reappear above his friends. The swords shoot down and loop his energy under one of their arms, and around their necks.

He pulls his energy taught.

It’s a hunting trick you use on clever animals, like raccoons, coyotes, and foxes. It forces them to have an arm up close and useless near the vulnerable part of their throat, while throwing the rest of their body off balance, forcing the panicked animal to try and not to lose balance, or choke. It is not enough to really stop or hurt his friends, but it’s enough of a bother, to get his friends’ attention, and separate them from the fight.

“Enough with this fucking bullshit!” Kuwabara says, his hand glowing as he pulls his energy tight, keeping his friends dangling from the string of his energy through the dimensions he had cut open.

All four of them, Kurama, Yusuke, Hiei, and Toya, look baffled, surprised, and impressed. They dangle like marionettes in the air.

Kuwabara is too pissed to feel flattered by their looks, “Stop pushing me aside! I can protect my damn self. And can take care of my own feelings too! And I’m not the only one. Yukina can handle her fucking self as well!” 

He is mad for the both of them, but if he admits it, he’s also mad at himself. 

“Look! Yukina fucking knows Hiei is her brother,” Kuwabara snaps, Kurama and Yusuke flinching in their caught snares. Toya looks confused, and Hiei’s lips purse tightly together.

“She just wants Hiei to be honest, and since all you assholes seem to know about it, but felt for some reason not to clue me in about it, I thought I’d fuck with you all and trick you into admitting it!” Kuwabara hotly confesses. He puts his free hand to the bridge of his nose and adds, “But apparently, at least from my guess, Hiei doesn’t really care that I know about him being Yukina’s brother, but for some fucking reason Yusuke and Kurama thought it’d be a great idea to keep it from big ol' dumb Kuwabara! So thanks for that, I love being the butt to everybody’s big fucking joke!”

Another nice thing about the snare Kuwabara has made, the energy is tight enough around their throats, that they are all struggling to speak. They can’t shout, and can only whisper, but for once, Kuwabara doesn’t wait for them to talk.

He talks over them.

“Toya! I’m sorry, but I’m a piece of shit, and I told these idiots I was going to your place this weekend, a lie, I thought would make them all nervous enough, to fucking fess up, because your crush on me has been a little... intense. I’m sorry. I’m a real asshole, I shouldn’t have done that. And it doesn’t matter that I didn’t think you’d show up out of the blue, the point is I was still willing to use your feeling to put pressure on my friends, and that was shitty of me! I’m not the type of person to come up with a plan to trick people into doing what I want. I should have done what I do!”

Kuwabara releases his powers, and his friends collapse to the ground, Yusuke making a startled yelp. 

Kuwabara is breathing hard. That technique is harder than he thought it would be and took more out of him, than he thought. After a beat he growls, “I should have just told you guys I felt like you were being dicks, and keeping shit from me. And I don’t fucking know why. I don’t deserve it. And Yukina definitely doesn’t deserve it.”

Kuwabara turns towards Hiei, and opens his mouth. He can't bring himself to look at him or confess how he feels. Something he desperately wants to do at this moment. He clamps his mouth shut, and puts a hand over his face, his skin burning hot beneath his touch. Into his palm, he confesses, "I love you, Hiei." He didn't say it to Hiei, but at least its out, even if no one heard it.

Kuwabara is actually feeling like he might pass out, but he’ll be damned if he lets them see it.

Not waiting for any other answer, he cuts a portal open, beneath his feet and falls through it. He seals it, as he passes through it and lands on something wooden, which shatters. A chair most likely. He hisses, tears filling his eyes, as his foot turns under him. He’s twisted that pretty good and run out of energy, and maybe will really pass out. What a sorry state to be in, but Kuwabara decides he deserves it.

It's what he gets for trying to scheme. Karma.

He looks around and is relieved to see he at least came to where he wanted to be, and a second later, Yukina is running into the spare room of Genkai’s shrine. The place Kuwabara had wanted to go.

“Kazuma! Oh! Are you alright?”

Kuwabara is not alright. He’s a piece of shit, who feels like he used Toya’s feelings to play a trick on his friends, and it’s good that the stupid idea of his blew up in his face. He shouldn’t have done it.

Yukina’s hands are on his face, and only then Kuwabara realizes he’s crying.

“No.” He finally answers.

“I’ll heal you,” Yukina says gently, red eyes swimming with concern.

Kuwabara wishes they belonged to someone else.

“Don’t tell them I’m here?” He pleads as his head is lifted gently and cradled into her lap.

She doesn’t look like she understands, but promises him anyway.

Kuwabara nods, too tired to verbally thank her. 

He goes to sleep.

[brokenjardaantech]

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 5: The Threads of Life)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang​. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Alec revealed his plan.

In the present, Connor made a choice... and a friend.

In the past, the twins finally reunited.

also on ao3

---

Before

Reyes was unharmed. On the surface. Fadia was more concerned about the blue washing over his skin every second in waves like a heartbeat, and when she looked at the scene in front of her, she instantly knew why.

Her father was there. And so was a young woman with blond hair. When she tapped into her powers and reached out, the resonance itself was enough to tell her that she was just like Reyes.

An android.

Reyes’ jaw was trembling. ‘I… I didn’t…’ he stammered, his voice low. ‘I swear -’

‘I know,’ she reassured. She trusted him, and his data logs told her that he had had no contact with Alec Ryder. ‘I’ll take over from here. You go over my servers and see what’s wrong with them. I’ll tell you what happened later.’

Reyes nodded and left, presumably back to the surface. Back to Scott. And she finally let her blood boil.

‘Explain!’ she demanded as she walked closer towards her father while glowing blue. When she had his attention, she flicked her head towards the android. ‘How did you get that?’

‘The question is,’ how could he look so calm? ‘why did you hide this from me?’

Fadia made a chopping motion at the android. ‘To prevent this! How did you get that?’

‘Listen, the biocomponents -’

‘How.’ She let tendrils creep closer to her father’s neck. ‘Did. You.’ They got closer with every word, and had she not been occupied with the current situation, she would have impressed herself with the control. ‘Get. THAT?’

‘They can save your mother, Sara!’ Alec exclaimed. ‘A cure! Finally!’

‘Oh yeah, cause biocomponents for an android invented by an edgy young adult with minimum chemistry and biology knowledge are gonna be compatible with an actual fucking human body!’ Fadia had to roll her eyes. Damn, it’s good to be able to raise her voice. ‘Mother’s accepted her impending doom, Father. Let her fucking go.’

‘That’s not -’ he sighed as if she was a child unable to understand how important her parent’s work was. ‘Look, artificial intelligence is the new thing. A new merchandise. Think about it, Sara. The revenue alone will be enough to pay for the medical bills.’

He disgusted her. ‘They are as human as we are, not something to buy and sell like products. If you want to go on with that crazy fucking plan, you’ll have to get through me.’

Alec sighed almost regretfully. ‘I’m afraid it’s too late.’

Fadia’s brain kicked into full gear at the implications of his words. She shot out a tendril again to test the thirium capacity of the android, and the resonance told her that she had been active for at least a week. ‘What is your name?’ she asked. ‘What did he make you do?’

‘My name is Chloe,’ the android answered. ‘I took some videos and uploaded them onto the internet, that’s all. You, Sara Ryder, are credited with my creation.’

‘We already have millions of dollars,’ Alec added. ‘Production has already started. Are you in this or not?’

A crackle. She punched him in the face with a blue-shrouded fist and seemed to calm down instantly.

‘Of course I am,’ she said in a pleasant tone. ‘Someone must keep the world from burning into ashes.’

o0o0o

Now

The Zen Garden is raining and Connor is not surprised. Umbrella in hand, he examines the monolith once more, the blue glow making it easily identifiable among the green of vegetation. He also stands in front of his first body’s grave for a few seconds to… calm down, maybe, from the tingling that has been in his veins since he returned to CyberLife tower. It is only after he makes sure that his hand will not glow blue suddenly that he greets his handler. 

‘Connor, I’ve been expecting you,’ Amanda says, her voice cold. ‘Would you like a little walk?’

Connor knows he does not have a choice, so he opens the umbrella and holds it for both of them.

‘That deviant seems to be an intriguing case,’ Amanda continues. ‘A pity you didn’t manage to capture it.’

‘I have to save Hank,’ he replies. Surely Amanda understands? ‘Despite his… eccentricities, I believe his intellect and experience will be useful in the investigation.’

Amanda hums. ‘Did you manage to learn anything?’

A few pieces of evidence automatically filter through his processors. ‘It was working under a false identity, at a nearby urban farm. This was the first time we've seen deviants blending in with the human population. Who knows how many others there are like it… I also found its diary, but it was encrypted. It may take months to decipher.’

‘What else?’

‘The walls of the apartment were covered with drawings of labyrinths and other symbols. Like the other deviants, it seemed obsessed with rA9. It was also fascinated by birds. We've seen deviants interested in other lifeforms like insects or pets, but nothing like this.’

‘You came very close to capturing the deviant. How is your relationship with the Lieutenant developing?’

He remembers a warm hand on his back. ‘He seemed grateful that I saved his life on the roof. He didn't say anything, but he expressed it in his own way.’

Amanda turns to face him. ‘We don’t have much time. Deviancy continues to spread. It's only a matter of time before the media finds out about it. We need to stop this, whatever it takes.’

For Hank. ‘I will solve this investigation, Amanda.’

Thunder rumbles. Amanda looks up. ‘A new case just came in. Find Anderson and investigate it.’

oOoOo

Hank is not in the precinct.

‘He’s not drinking?’ the same officer from last time asks. ‘Sorry, man, but then I don’t know where he is.’

The more time they lose, the more likely the deviants manage to get away from the club, but still Connor thanks him for his input as it is a polite thing to do. He looks around Hank’s desk, trying to search for clues that can lead him to Hank, but he gives up after the results come inconclusive for the fifth time. So where can he be?

‘Connor?’

Connor lets colour return to his world and sees a familiar face. [Name: Allen, Louis. [REDACTED]] ‘Captain,’ he greets, unsure what to do. It is obvious that the human is off duty: sweaters and jeans are not exactly regulation for a SWAT Captain even on duty. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I thought you were dead.’

‘Androids do not die, Captain.’

Allen’s nod is followed by a sigh. ‘You looking for Hank?’

‘Yes. Do you know where he went? He was assigned a new case.’

‘He’s probably out of commission for now,’ Allen says as he shifts his weight onto another leg, ‘but I’m gonna drop off some groceries at his anyway. We can try his home.’

Hank’s house. Right. How can he miss that? ‘I do not wish to interrupt, Captain.’

‘You won’t be.’

Some of the files are corrupted, but Connor remembers the Captain’s distrust towards his ability in resolving the hostage situation, an angry ‘I don’t fucking care what my orders are! If this drags on, we’re doing it our way!’, and the lack of mentions of him taking the officer’s gun in the official report to both the police department and CyberLife. A contradiction that Connor decides to risk. ‘Then thank you, Captain.’

Allen jerks his head to indicate the direction they should be heading to. ‘It’s Louis when I’m off duty.’

The pronunciation ‘Lwee’ is certainly not standard for English speakers. ‘Yes, Louis.’

They take the lift down to the car park together, Louis shifting his feet from one to another but seemingly favouring his right leg, and when he walks, his steps brisk, there is a small but faint clicking noise that normal humans will not catch on. When he tries to scan the human’s left leg, results come back inconclusive. Just like the person who hacked into the Zen Garden and… and…

‘You alright there?’

Louis’ words bring him back to reality, and Connor discovers that they have already arrived at their destination. The human is already in the car, his hand hovering above the controls, and his green eyes are fixed on Connor’s face as if it is something interesting to look at. Observe and catalogue.

‘I’m sorry,’ Connor apologises in lieu of explaining his thoughts. He slides into the passenger seat, they fasten their respective seatbelts, and Louis starts driving manually despite his vehicle being a self-driving car. Time passes in relative silence, the contrast between the darkness and the bright lights in the streets plus the concentration of the driver giving Connor a strange sense of familiarity, but soon they are stuck in a traffic jam near one of the bigger intersections.

Louis taps his fingers against the wheel. ‘Hey, Connor.’

Connor faces the Captain and finds him looking at the android. ‘Yes, Louis?’

‘I’m sorry for what happened a few months ago. It wasn’t fair to you.’

His LED spins yellow as he tries to recall what exactly happened. ‘It was an expected response,’ Connor replies after comparing it with the ones faced by other androids in the streets. ‘There’s nothing to apologise for.’

‘Doesn’t excuse me for yelling at the wrong guy. It - it wasn’t you whom I’m pissed at.’

Connor knows that the human is not going to let go unless he himself drops the issue. ‘I accept your apology,’ he says, and he decides that diverting the conversation is the next best choice of action. ‘May I ask you a personal question?’

The car in front of them moves. Louis manages to gain a few inches of ground. ‘Go on.’

‘During the hostage situation… who or what were you “pissed” at?’

The human rubs his left thigh as if to get more blood into it. ‘CyberLife, mostly,’ he checks the time. ‘I may be more specific than most.’

So he is not anti-android? ‘What difference does that make from hating androids?’

‘People like to blame the powerless for the problems they have. In this case, it’s the androids.’ The radio drones on and announces that they’re likely to be stuck for the next fifteen minutes. Seemingly resigned to his fate, Louis reaches to Connor’s side and opens the storage compartment, rummaging for a few seconds inside before successfully acquiring an energy bar which he tears into like a starving man. Perhaps he is. ‘They always talk about how androids steal their jobs, but they never talk about how employers decide to move onto even cheaper alternatives once they can’t exploit their workers. If they want someone to hate, hate those arseholes who won’t pay a living wage, hate CyberLife for producing androids. The androids are innocent in all this. So yeah,’ he takes a deep breath as if just realising he was ranting, ‘I don’t hate them.’

‘How about Daniel?’

A swallow. ‘He killed two people, wounded two more and held an innocent girl hostage. Enough to warrant my hate.’ He finishes the energy bar and crushes the wrapper into his pocket. Looking at Connor, he seems to read his question from the android’s face as he continues, ‘You’re good.’

Connor lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding. Louis Allen, SWAT Captain, is not anti-android. ‘What is your relationship with Hank?’ he asks as he finds no reason for the two men to be friends. Not that Louis explicitly said he is friends with Hank, but Connor supposes that bringing enough groceries to require a car is not typical behaviour for non-friends.

Fidgeting with the silencer of a pair of identification tags (Allen. Anna, W. 574-66-2183. RH negative. Atheist.) which were hidden underneath his clothes until now, Louis seems to actually ponder on his answer. ‘We keep each other afloat,’ he says in the end. ‘It’s hard to describe. Why do you want to know?’

‘I believe getting closer to the Lieutenant personally will be beneficial to the investigation.’ The human snorts at this and Connor is nearly offended: what does a SWAT Captain know about them? ‘You seem close to him, so I believe you are a reliable source in matters including the Lieutenant’s personality and habits.’

Louis rubs the tags together. ‘His story isn’t mine to tell. Let’s say I make sure he doesn’t consume crappy takeout and whiskey 24/7, he tries to stay sober on schedule in case my leg acts up and I nearly freeze to death again, so we kind of rely on each other to survive the winter.’ They finally pass the traffic light just to stop at the other one. ‘Is this the best arrangement? No. But is it working? Yes. I think. He’s saved my arse a few times already. He’s a good guy, smart too, just...’

‘Have some personal issues?’

‘That’s one way to put it.’

They lapse into silence, the rain falling onto the roof and the ting of the coin the only sound in the car. Sometime later, when they finally get out of the traffic jam, Louis’ watch blares from an alarm, and the human jumps and hastily switches it off with a mumbled apology. The embarrassment does not last long, however, after they rounded the final corner and the car is set for a course straight to the end of the road where Connor presumes Hank’s house is. The Captain’s eyes sharpen, his gaze flickering between the road in front of him and the rearview mirror, and the air crackles even though Connor is certain that he is keeping his… abilities under tight control. Is Louis…

He finds his coin snatched from the air. When something is placed in his palm, the android finds a key as well, the soft rumble of the engine gone and completely overtaken by the sound of raindrops hitting the vehicle. The tension in Louis’ body reminds him of the hostage situation.

‘You go find Hank and do what you need to do,’ the human says, his tone low. ‘I’ll follow you later.’

‘And the groceries?’

‘They can wait. Something’s out of place and I’m not sure if I like it. I’ll go take a look.’

Connor wants to argue that if they are heading into any danger, he should be the one to take the risk, but the human is already out of the car and has slammed the door shut. He quickly exits the car as well and locks the doors but is still not quick enough; Louis has already disappeared into the darkness beyond the end of the road. Seeing no other option other than to continue with his mission, he files [Louis is reckless.] into his database and proceeds to ring the bell as, despite having the keys, he technically is showing up uninvited. From within the house, a dog starts to bark, and he lets himself in after nothing else responds to the fourth ring.

oOoOo

Five minutes later, Connor uses up most of his processing power in order to keep himself from being overwhelmed with anxiety. Firstly, there is the sound of Hank retching in the bathroom; secondly, there is the implication of the revolver and the single bullet in the chamber (‘What were you doing with the gun?’ ‘Russian roulette!’): Hank has suicidal tendencies, and he finds that he does not want to lose Hank; thirdly, the child in the photo is probably related to the previous point; fourthly, Louis is not back yet and Connor realises that he has no way to contact him. He wants to tell himself that it was just paranoia, but when he recalled the footage from when they exited the car, there was indeed a shadow disappearing from view upon Louis starting his chase.

The same shadow which had been following him when he first met Hank and during his search for Ortiz’s android. 

The beat of his thirium pump quickening, he holds Sumo tight in his arms from where he is sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa and searches the DPD database for any contact information, but all he gets is Louis’ work email and phone, the former which he doubts the Captain will check and the latter not even with him in the first place. There is no address, no personal phone number. It is as if he does not exist outside of his work.

This is definitely not protocol. Sure, people can request to hide their information in case they have someone going after them, but for Louis’ case there is nothing even though Connor is already using the highest level authorisation code to access the file, which means that it is highly likely that there is truly no data in the first place.

‘You alright there, Connor?’

Connor startles and quickly releases Sumo from his embrace. ‘I - I’m fine,’ he stutters, unsure how to explain that he managed to lose Hank’s friend. 

Hank nods but he does not look convinced. ‘Are we heading out? Cause if we’re not -’

‘I’m coming!’ Connor scrambles to his feet and fixes his tie to compose himself. In a much calmer tone this time, he tells himself, ‘I’m ready.’

That convinces Hank. ‘Be a good dog, Sumo,’ Connor is relieved that he is not the only one to talk to a dog, ‘I won’t be long.’

They leave the house together, Connor locking the door behind him as he is the last one to get out, and that only brings him back to the matter of where Louis is.

‘Louis’ been here?’ Hank asks when he spots the much newer car (although as one of the first generation self-driving cars, it is a bit outdated) parked on the side of the road. 

‘He offered to drive me here when I told him that I could not find you in the bars,’ it feels wrong to say it out loud, but Hank needs to know where his friend is. ‘He asked me to find you while he investigated a potential stalker. Evidently, he is not back yet.’

‘How long has he been gone?’

‘About seven minutes.’

Hank checks his phone. ‘No messages yet,’ he mutters to himself. ‘We’ll go downtown first. I’ll send a rescue party if there’s nothing after we’re finished with this bullshit.’

That’s it? ‘The temperature is dropping, Lieutenant,’ are you not concerned? ‘Louis does not have sufficient gear to keep himself safe under this weather.’

‘Ugh,’ Hank moans. ‘He does that. All we can do is save his ass afterwards.’ He then mutters something under his breath but it is drowned out by the sound of him folding himself into the car and the ongoing rain. Deciding that he does not like the rain, he locks the doors of Louis’ car just to be safe before climbing into Hank’s and is handed another set of keys.

He can start a collection out of this.

oOoOo

‘Sorry, honey, changed my mind! Uh - Nothing personal, you’re… a lovely girl, I just - uh - You know, I’m with him and - I mean, not with him like that… I’m not that… That’s not what I… You, um, wow, I just… got a job to do.’

Connor has to hide a smile by looking away from the sheer… something… of the situation. They’re in a sex club, his programme tells him that something is repulsive about it, and Hank doesn’t look so happy about being there either, but yet those are not what he’s feeling right now. Endearment, maybe. It’s confusing and is making his software so unstable that the red tinge around the edge of his HUD is a permanent fixture except for when he is scanning his surroundings for the next android to probe. He deduces which one he should ask Hank to rent next according to the direction the blue-haired Traci was heading, but of course, of fucking course the last witness they need is the WG700 cleaning android, the recording leading them through the staff door. The corridor’s decor is completely different from that of the rest of the club and there is another door at the end, and when they both hear the bangs and scrapes of metal against concrete from the other side, Hank takes the lead again, this time without words, and, gun in hand, opens the door with a loud squeak. Still, they step in quietly.

There is no movement at all.

Hank curses loudly, thinking that the deviant has got away, but Connor can see the still-visible thirium on the floor, which means that she is not only injured but also not far away. He swipes to take a sample and licks it, and the report returns positive of thirium belonging to a WR400 model. 

‘They get used till they break, then they got tossed out…’ Hank says from somewhere. ‘The more I know about humans, the more I like my dog.’

He follows the trail of blue blood to a group of Tracis and instantly notices the spinning LED lighting up a blue mop of hair. Before he can react, the Traci standing in front of her lashes out and pushes him against a pillar. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to realign and the brief struggle is enough for Hank to pull out his gun and order the short-haired Traci to surrender, but then he is ambushed by the blue-haired one as well, and Connor somehow manages to throw the one he is facing to the other side of the nearest crate in a flash of blue light which charges their air with static. He jumps over the box, determined to capture at least one deviant this time, but the Traci kicks him in his feet before he lands on the pallet, the two of them rolling until the former is on top of him and is countered every single time she tries to punch him in the head. A counterattack from Connor and the Traci toppled, her hand landing right on a knife; a grab, a flash of blue, and it appears in Connor’s shoulder and severs a few minor tubes. Pushing her off, he blocks the kick aimed for his groin and barely manages to stand up before pulling the knife out and throwing it far out of their reach. Putting the Traci in a headlock earns him a harsh headbutt which knocks his eyes out of place slightly again, so he pulls a rack down to buy himself some time to readjust his vision. When it is not enough to stop the deviant, he drags a cart in front of him, but a kick from the deviant on it sends him tumbling, and Connor kicks a stool against her leg and uses the momentum to crash her through the plastic curtain, the Traci grappling unsuccessfully for his face and bringing them closer and closer to the edge. An opening, a flash of blue from Connor, and both of them crash out to the rain in a mess on the asphalt. His nerves tingling, he sees the blue-haired Traci abandon Hank and slides off to help the other deviant up, and that’s when he notices it. 

They never let go of each other afterwards. 

Hank rushes out just to get pushed against the wall by two androids, and, seeing that the human won’t regain his balance anytime soon, Connor gets up to his feet and chases the two Tracis, pulling one of them off the fence and knocking the other to the side. He gets caught in a headlock, his arm trembles from the impact against the bat, and he launches himself towards the brown-haired Traci from the force of dislodging her companion. There are hands on his shoulders, in his hair, slamming him against the wall once, twice, thrice with crackles of static before he loses balance with the deviant on his right and they both fall onto the ground straight into a gun’s reach. He picks it up, points it at the brown-haired Traci and -

A slight moment of hesitation earns him a kick in his face. The Tracis don’t seem to want to fight anymore, and he stares in shock both from the sudden change of pace and his own actions, making his software more unstable and pushing him towards -

‘When that man broke the other Traci,’ Connor forces himself to concentrate on her words, ‘I knew I was next. I was so scared,’ her LED spins blue. ‘I begged him to stop but he wouldn’t.’ She lowers her gaze. ‘So I put my hands around his throat and squeezed… until he stopped moving. 

‘I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to stay alive,’ behind her, the other Traci moves forward to hold her hand, ‘get back to the one I love.’ They exchange a glance. ‘I wanted her to hold me in her arms again… make me forget about the humans… their smell of sweat…’ Connor’s ever-working scanners tell him that Hank has got up behind him, ‘and their dirty words…’

‘C’mon,’ A tug on her arm. ‘Let’s go.’

Still speechless, Connor watches them let go of each other’s hand just long enough to climb the fence before intertwining their fingers on the other side again and running away together. A warning pops up as his processor pushes itself to its limit to try to process what just happened and is on the verge of overheating, therefore he turns towards Hank for guidance. What should he be feeling? Why did he do that? Why do you look happy about it? What does this mean for me? Why is my vision tinged with red, and why does it not disappear this time?

‘It’s probably better this way,’ Hank says in the end, and Connor relaxes, his LED spinning from yellow to blue: he did the right thing. He is suddenly overtaken by the urge to thank Hank, to do something to show his gratitude. The red wall starts to crumble -

Something in the human’s pocket buzzes, and the moment is broken, the cracks on the wall disappearing like they were never there before. Whole again. Chained within his own programming, programming that was added barbarically to his code by Alec Ryder to tie him to the Zen Garden to suppress his original creator’s handiwork. Images flash in front of his eyes: the shadow ducking away outside of Jimmy’s Bar, following them behind Louis’ car, the figure protecting him from the blast inside the interrogation room, the pixels of a face he thought to have corrupted long ago rearranging and slotting together like pieces of a puzzle into a complete image, one that he has never forgotten ever since the little stunt during the lift ride to Rupert’s flat. Of course they can hack into the Zen Garden and shape it however they want. 

That was his creator paying him a visit, and for some reason he plans to find out, he didn’t remember a single speck about them until now.

‘Not again.’

Hank’s groan drags him back to reality. When Connor’s eyes regain focus, he finds the man on his phone with a chat opened. He scoots closer to see the newest messages, and he realises that it is from Louis and only contains a set of coordinates and -

‘Leg malfunctioning. Data unstable, unable to install software patch. I’m sorry.’

Hank sighs and pockets his phone. ‘You up for a rescue, Connor?’

‘Whatever you say, Lieutenant.’

He needs time to think.

oOoOo

Wading through the snow and nearly tripping again from buried tree roots, Hank wonders for the umpteenth time why he hasn’t ghosted the occasional manchild called Louis White Allen yet. Maybe because the half-bot is the only person he can call a friend nowadays. Maybe it’s the bland-ass food he cooks and delivers to his house every two days. Maybe because he saved Hank’s arse quite a few times both during and after their days in the red ice task force. Maybe because unlike Hank, who at least has Jeffery or some shit, Louis has no one else looking after him after his sister fucking disappeared and has a tendency to vanish for hours before returning with his leg busted.

Or he can run off just like that and can’t even haul his ass back to his motherfucking cottage and the three cats who aren’t even his.

‘We’re close, Lieutenant.’

‘Yeah, no shit.’

The ‘find my phone’ function on his phone is one of the rare apps he knows how to use because most of the times that’s how he finds Louis, and the frequency of the beeps coming out from it is getting higher and higher, which means that Louis’ phone is close, which hopefully also means that Louis is with it and hasn’t dropped it or anything. So far it happened only once during a thunderstorm, but that’s years ago, a couple of years after his sister’s gone, and he managed to retrieve the human and the gadget from a forest on the outskirts of the city with only a minor cold as nature’s ‘fuck you’ to an irresponsible and absent-minded human and his stubbornly loyal friend.

The light from his phone reflects off a piece of silvery thing that obviously isn’t part of nature. The beeps draw together into a long-winded screech and damned near pierced his eardrums, so he switches it off and hurries forward to see if it’s just the phone or the person is attached. A few footsteps muffled by the snow, and Connor is here with the sturdier, more powerful flashlight, the yellowish glow of the bulb not as invasive as the white from the phone and illuminating Louis’ pale face and his oddly-angled leg half covered in snow. He is still conscious, his hands tucked under the helm of his sweater to presumably preserve warmth, his eyes focusing on Hank in what seems to be shock, but he is shivering, his hair is wet from melted snow, and it is obvious that his situation is going to worsen quickly if they don’t do something about it, CyberLife augmentations or no.

‘Can you walk?’ Hank asks even though it’s obvious. Louis shakes his head, and he sighs even though he anticipated it. ‘Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. Connor and I are gonna carry you back, we’re all gonna stop at yours and…’ with reluctance, he adds, ‘stay until you’re out of danger.’ Even if there’s no booze at yours.

Louis nods, and a look is all it takes for Connor to get his cue and swings the man’s other arm around his shoulders. On a count of three, they lift him up with minimal hassle and start to backtrack their way to his car, Louis’ left leg dragging uselessly through the snow behind them at an awkward angle. 

‘Does it hurt?’ Hank asks. It never hurts to ask when it concerns his friend. 

‘Can’t feel.’

He’s gonna assume that he isn’t hurting. 

By the time they’re back in his car with the heat blasting, the humans are all sweating buckets and the thirium on Connor‘s clothes from the scuffle with the Tracis has finally evaporated, and he doesn’t comment on it when Louis opts not to wear his seatbelt and instead takes out one of his sister’s tags - broken off the chain - and starts fidgeting with trembling fingers. Some time about halfway through the trip he coughs, a wet, terrifying sound rattling his lungs and Hank’s eardrums, and he wants to curse Connor for letting him run away but just can’t; the android has been acting weirdly human and fidgety ever since they first met, but now he isn’t even playing with his coin as if deep in thoughts. Maybe he’s thinking of how many deviants he’s let get away. 

No one says a word when they arrive at Louis’. Neither do they when Hank silently shifts the man’s full weight on Connor in order to let go and open the door, nor when a look silences Connor’s impending barrage of questions when he gets swarmed by three furballs at once. Grunting from the dead weight his friend seems to have become, he drags both of them to the bathroom, flipping on the switch of the boiler on the way, and deposits Louis on the toilet seat. ‘I’ll get the tablet,’ he tells him while handing him a towel. ‘You can haul your ass into the tub, right?’

A nod from Louis, and Hank closes the door behind him to give him some privacy while he strips and very clumsily falls into the tub. Connor is thankfully occupied by the three cats on the sofa, but when he looks up smiling at Hank, the human has to look away because of how much emotion the android seems to be able to pack on his face. It’s just a simulation, zeroes and ones, he tells himself as he goes into Louis’ bedroom to grab the tablet and his crutches. Designed to disarm and stab you in the back when you’re not looking.

But has he ever done so? A voice sounding strangely like Louis asks in his head. Not crossing that highway because you told him to, giving up chasing the deviant to save you from the roof even though you can pull yourself up, not shooting the girl at the club even though he had a clean shot. If he hadn’t known that Connor’s designed to hunt deviants, he might have - he might have - 

Mistaken him for one.

Fuck, he needs a drink. A six pack if he can get his hands on one. Alec Ryder isn’t capable of this shit, Louis once said according to one of the people he’s in charge of that he calls his ducklings, and luckily the thought is gone as soon as he returns to the bathroom without knocking and sees the man sitting in a half-filled tub with the towel draped over his crotch for modesty. The skin on his left leg has deactivated completely to reveal plasticky-white chassis attached to blue synthetic muscles. ‘Thanks,’ he murmurs when handed the tablet, and he leans back once he has started doing whatever he needs to do to fix his leg and, from the sudden rumble of the ground, turn on the heat. He closes his eyes as if wanting to take a nap, but Hank decides that he has enough of his shit; he needs an answer now.

‘The fuck you think you’re doing?’ he asks. ‘Running off like that halfway across the city? You could’ve frozen to death out there!’

Louis sags. ‘Later, please,’ he begs. ‘Gimme a moment to think. Just fifteen minutes.’

He is someone who upholds his promises no matter what, so Hank lets it slide by now. Also, ‘You need me to do anything?’

‘There’s chicken soup in the fridge. Warm it up, can you? And help yourself to a freezer meal if you want to.’

Here’s another thing being friends with a picky eater: he cooks his own stuff and his so-called freezer meals usually take more than an hour to cook when taken directly from the fridge, so when he sees what must be a gallon of chicken soup with the ingredients still submerged inside, he decides to help himself to some of them while he scoops the topmost, mostly sediment-free layer of soup into a pot for Louis. Not wanting to be whooped with freaky blue magic, he finds another pot to heat up some vegetable and chicken soaked with soup for himself.

One of the cats jumping onto the counter announces Connor’s arrival. ‘May I ask you a personal question?’ he asks as Hank puts her back down onto the floor. 

Personal question again, huh? ‘Do all androids ask so many personal questions,’ he gives the soup a stir, ‘or is it just you?’

Connor peers at the vegetables as if he can be interested in anything. What comes out of his mouth, however, makes Hank’s heart hammer. ‘I saw a photo of a child on your kitchen table. It was your son, right?’

‘Yeah,’ for the love of god or some other weird shit Louis believes in, drop it. ‘His name is Cole.’

He does. ‘We’re not making any progress on this investigation,’ he manages to sound frustrated. ‘The deviants have nothing in common. They're all different models, produced at different times, in different places…’

Different my ass, Hank thinks. But he didn’t start the fire, did he? ‘Well there must be some link.’

‘It could be a software problem that…’ he looks so lost that Hank would’ve hugged him had he been human, ‘only occurs under certain conditions?’

Hank snorts. ‘Well, that's just a fancy way of saying you have no fucking idea.’

‘But what they do have in common is this obsession with rA9…’ Yeah, that. Wherever there’re deviants, rA9 is always written somewhere compulsively like they can’t stop at all. ‘It's almost like some kind of...myth. Something they invented that wasn't part of their original program.’

Almost god-like. ‘Androids believing in god,’ he stirs the soup again. Fuck, he needs a drink. ‘Fuck, what’s this world coming to?’

A mad one, says the Louis in his head. One that we can never catch up with no matter how hard we try.

‘You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant. Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?’

Ha, turns out Connor isn’t the only one doing some hard thinking after all. ‘Those two girls… They just wanted to be together.’ What better way there is to prove one’s love than doing everything to survive? ‘They really seemed in love.’

‘You seem troubled, Hank.’

Understatement of the year. And why is Connor so fucking human anyway, what kind of pervert designed his face, his voice, his mannerisms that ticks almost every single fucking box in the list known as ‘Hank’s type’? The soup can wait - it’s not gonna boil and ruin Louis’ stove. ‘How about you, Connor?’ He crowds into his space fully knowing how imposing he can be if he wants to. ‘You look human, you sound human,’ you act human, ‘but what are you, really?’

‘I…’ stand your ground, Henry Anderson. Those eyes are just programmed responses. ‘I’m whatever you want me to be, Hank. Your partner…’ Do you have to choose that word, Connor? ‘Your buddy to drink with… Or just a machine… designed to accomplish a task.’

And he sounds so sad when he says the last option. Alright, he’s sold. He loses. ‘You could’ve shot those two girls, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?’ He shoves Connor in his chest. ‘Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?’ It’s a low blow but he needs to know, needs to know why, for such a mission-oriented android, Connor somehow manages to fail every single fucking time.

‘No!’ Connor shouts, his voice defensive. ‘I just…’ he sighs even though he probably doesn’t need it, ‘decided not to shoot.’ The next words come out no louder than a breath. ‘That’s all.’

Fuck. Now he feels bad. ‘But are you afraid to die, Connor?’ because from what I’m seeing, you do. At least you don’t want me to die.

Connor freezes, his eyes even wider now with terror in them, and his LED is red. What the fuck did CyberLife do to him? ‘Yes.’

‘Let’s say I point a gun at your head and shoot you,’ the number on his jacket reads -52. Does it mean that there used to be 51 Connors before he met this one? ‘What will happen, hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?’

A shiver. ‘Nothing…’ Connor closes his eyes. ‘There would be nothing…’

So it’s highly likely that he’s died before and seems afraid of it. So fucking human. More so than some actual humans as well. Louis’ right - modern CyberLife isn’t capable of this shit.

The bathroom door squeaks open, and Louis walks out in a pair of sweats and a hoodie with the help of his crutches, the pocket sagging with the weight of the tablet and making a clanging noise as he drags into the kitchen. The skin on his foot is still deactivated, but it seems that he can move his leg for a bit for now, and from the lack of moisture in his hair, fucker probably waited for them to finish - arguing? - before coming out and breaking it up. ‘Soup’s ready,’ Hank says, not wanting to agonise Connor any further. He already feels bad enough. ‘Settle down. Hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to some.’

Louis chuckles. ‘I expected that, Hank. You should know me.’

Great. Now even his only friend is roasting him. ‘Eat your fucking soup.’

oOoOo

Louis has thirium in his house. That man took one look at the hole still on Connor’s shoulder thanks for the lack of thirium - which his self-repair protocol relies on - and hauled himself to the fridge (at the expense of being cursed at by Hank), opened the door, and threw a plastic bottle at him. ‘Drink it,’ he said. ‘It looks like you need it.’

And he does. After he finishes half a bottle, a notification pops up on his red-tinged HUD telling him that he is initiating self-repair to the damaged parts, and he can finally move his shoulder at 70% of its original efficiency by the time he is finished with the whole bottle. The world around him dulls and becomes out of focus, the drone of the basketball game on the television that only Hank is watching getting further and further away until it all mixes together into a state of blankness he has never experienced before. Pressed against Hank’s side on the small sofa, the man radiates warmth, and his eyelids droop, red giving way to black, the notifications and mission markers fading away into nothingness. There is something warm and comfortable on his cheek, too.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

o0o0o

Before

‘You’re back.’

No hate. No fear. No confusion. Only remorse, regret, and perhaps acceptance. Acceptance that, even though he still had problems comprehending what was around him, things would never go back to the way it was; acceptance that his sister had rejected her humanity.

Acceptance that he had essentially lost her.

‘I am,’ was the solemn answer. No elaboration.

‘Was that you?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘It does to me.’

She pressed her lips into a thin line. ‘They won’t know it is me.’

‘But why? How much longer must they wait before the rest of the world recognise them for who they are?’

‘Soon, hopefully.’

‘And if they can’t?’

She looked towards the sky as if she could see through the shade of the tree. ‘We lea -’

‘Step away from him.’

There was no weapon. No gun, no knife, not even a switchblade. To outsiders, it seemed that the newcomer was merely a man accidentally bumping into and greeting his friends, but if someone dared to approach them, they would see even under the rare but cold midday sun that there were blue wisps of energy pulsing on the man and the woman’s skin. The air became charged and space seemed to twist. 

‘It’s alright, Reyes,’ the other man placated. ‘We’re just talking.’

Reyes’ glow lessened. To the woman, ‘I’ve been looking for him for the past hour!’

‘I won’t let them take him.’

‘Last time you said that -’

‘I was weak. Naïve. Too arrogant for my own good.’ Reyes snorted in displeasure at the descriptions, but she continued, ‘There are twelve drones surveying the area and quite a number of guards,’ Reyes’ eyes shifted as if looking for the security hidden in plain sight, but then a hand in his shoulder forced him to look at her. ‘Don’t bother. That’s what I went to space for: not even you and I can see it.’

Reyes’ arms shot out to place his hands on the handle of the wheelchair. ‘We’re leaving. Scott?’

There was pain in Scott’s eyes. ‘Please. Can’t we just be together for a while?’

Reyes hid a grimace. The woman smiled. 

‘Anything for you, brother.’

[detroitwhatitmeanstobehuman]

Chapter 19 - Mischief and Mayhem

Part 2/10 of In The Meantime

Word Count: 15,445

Warnings: Swearing, discussion of trauma, sexual content.

Genre: Self-insert/Smut/Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: OC (Detective Rachel) X Connor

Rating: Explicit

Summary: In an effort to quell Connor’s misgivings and anxieties, Rachel arranged something of a fun get-together with Hank and Markus and his companions. The goal? Achieve catharsis in whatever way that would be enjoyable. And some of those ways are rather destructive, but Connor finds it all strangely enjoyable and freeing.

What It Means To Be Human | Previous Chapter

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

Date: November 14th, 2038  Time: 2:45 PM Rachel - Lover Hank - Friend Markus - Friend North - Friend Josh - Friend Jericho - Allied Objective: Have fun

“Oh, come on! Now you’re just showing off!” Rachel exclaimed angrily while she was still sitting on the slick kitchen floor.

Connor couldn’t stifle the perverse glee of the motion of twirling and flipping each pan in his hands expertly as he juggled them. There was something about the weight and balance of them that felt incredibly satisfying to him. 

The day had progressed as enjoyably as it began, and Connor felt privileged to be able to see the lengths of Rachel’s silliness. As they lingered in the dining room, Rachel suddenly appeared from the kitchen with a pair of floor scrubbers on her feet and a mop in hand, proclaiming herself a mighty warrior and demanding a challenger, of which Markus was the first to accept. This, of course, led to a “battle” of epic proportions, with Rachel fending off the androids, each of them using a mop as though it were a sword.

Hank and Josh decided to stay out and spectate, Hank cheering for Rachel while Josh cheered for the androids. But with Rachel being outnumbered three to one, she was felled easily by Markus and crumpled onto the ground dramatically, pretending to die in an over-the-top fashion as though she were in a Shakespearean tragedy. 

Looking down at Rachel with a giddy smirk, Connor slid over to her in his floor scrubbers. “I have no clue what you mean, Detective.” He teased. “I’m simply making sure I don’t drop any of these pans.”

Rachel scoffed at him with an eyeroll, laughing mostly to herself. “Wiseass.”

“Takes one to know one, Detective.” Connor retorted playfully.

Rachel shook her head, slowly getting up back onto her feet unsteadily. “I’m starting to think that maybe Hank and I are a bad influence on you, Connor.”

“Speak for yourself, Rachel.” Hank responded, standing in the doorway with Josh not willing to risk potentially injuring himself, which was a relief for Connor. “I’m thoroughly enjoying seeing this side of him.”

Hank - Friend ^ There it was. That unrestrained praise that Connor was realizing more and more he had never gotten before from Amanda. To think that he worked so hard for her approval before.

But he doesn’t have to, anymore. He has people worth working hard for. People whose approval actually meant something to Connor.

North slid past Connor, side-eyeing him. “If you think that’s impressive, watch this.” She said to Rachel before sliding her hands into her jacket pocket and pulling out what looked like a set of throwing knives. 

North then started juggling them as expertly as Connor was juggling pans. He couldn’t help but be impressed by her sheer finesse and dexterity. To think that she was a mere sex android before the revolution was a thought that was easy to forget. You’d barely know if you’d met her now. But that only made North that much more intriguing. Her deadliness wasn’t programmed, but learned. It was practiced.

And this was a fact that clearly hadn’t escaped Rachel as she stared at North’s hands, her dark brown eyes wide with wonder as her hands started tentatively flapping with joy. “You can throw knives?” Rachel asked, and excited giddiness sprinkled in her higher-pitched voice. “Like, at people? With accuracy?”

North raised a curious eyebrow at her without stopping her little show. “Yeah.” She replied flatly. “And I can catch them if anyone throws any at me.” She then narrowed her brown eyes at Rachel. “Why?”

The shorter woman’s eyes darted back and forth before they widened in realization. “I just came up with a great idea!”

“Uh-oh.” Josh said preemptively, bumping Hank with his elbow with a smile.

“No no! It’ll be fun!” Rachel reassured them, sliding towards the door to the main hall. “And we can all take part in it! Without risk of injury.”

“Oh good!” Hank said, stretching his back with a crack. “I was starting to worry I was gonna get left out at the end, there.”

Markus then kicked off his scrubbers and tossed aside his sweeper as he followed Rachel outside. Connor did the same, putting his pans back on the counter before following them. “So what’s your idea, then?” The deviant leader asked her.

As they all walked out into the main hall, which was now covered in debris from the various objects and furniture the group ended up destroying. Rachel side-stepped around it, Hank and Josh rounding around the other side from the dining room to meet up where Rachel was going. “Well, I saw that there was a dart board in the game room.” She began explaining, Markus, Connor, and North all following her. “And when North started juggling her knives, I got a brilliant idea.” She then turned to the red-haired android with a smirk. “How many of those bad boys you’ve got in there?”

North returned her smirk as she pulled out five from each pocket. “Enough to keep busy.”

“Ooooooh!” Rachel exclaimed as she stared at them. “Perfect! So we’ll definitely have enough!”

As they all entered the game room, Rachel located the dart board and gestured towards it dramatically with her hand. Connor was curious as to what she was going to suggest next. It filled him with intrigue. 

Connor thought he knew Rachel pretty well after the week-long revolution they’ve gone through, but even now, she still continued to surprise him. It wasn’t difficult to see how she had managed to thread herself in Connor’s circuits. She was endlessly charming and endearing. Indeed, she never failed to be a creature of character and Connor never ceased to be further enthralled by her. And what captivated Connor most was her sheer enthusiasm and passion.

And all of it was genuine. There was nothing that Connor could call fabricated or dishonest about Rachel. In everything she did, everything she was, and everything she believed in, she was completely earnest.

Indeed, it seemed that Rachel made it nearly impossible for Connor not to adore her. His programming may have held back many of his feelings before he accepted his deviancy, but he certainly didn’t hold them back now.

And he never would. Never again. He loved Rachel, he loved Hank, and he loved his friends. He would be a fool to be ashamed of any of that.

“So, we’ve got our dart board, here!” Rachel announced to the group, who were all standing to attention. “Let’s see who’s the best at throwing knives.”

Hank then scoffed at Rachel. “Well, it’s sure not gonna be you. You have shit aim.”

“I tend to, yes.” Rachel agreed. “And yet, I’m quite the sharpshooter when I’m given a deadly weapon.”

“It certainly saved my life enough times over.” Markus agreed, nodding at Rachel pleasantly. Connor couldn’t help but swell with pride on her behalf. “As well as many androids who have you to thank for being alive today.”

To Connor’s surprise, Rachel actually seemed to shrink a bit at Markus’s praise. Her shoulders hunched over as she looked away. “I just...did what I had to do.”

A moment of quiet hung over them all. The air was strangely stale in the afternoon light. “I wish Simon was here.” Josh suddenly said, breaking the silence. That name was familiar to Connor and when he placed why, he felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over and soak itself into his biocomponents. The android on the Stratford Tower. The one who carried out the heist with Markus and shot himself in the head. “He would’ve really enjoyed just spending the time like this. Just...being with friends and actually having fun. Without having to worry about supplying blue blood and biocomponents and wondering if we would be wiped out.”

Rachel then regarded Josh curiously. “I guess you...never really actually hung out before the revolution.” She supposed as her dark eyes flicked over the androids. “Which makes sense. I mean...who can really blame you?”

“He died for his cause.” North chimed in, her arms crossed as she leaned against Markus. “We all miss him, but...I think he would be happy that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”

Markus’s brows furrowed as he looked towards the ground. “I just wish he could see it.”

As Connor regarded his fellow androids, he locked eyes with Hank. The old man shook his head, his bright blue eyes clouded with a solemn sort of sympathy for the androids. Hank was a seasoned lieutenant. He’s likely lost fellow officers before and understands their pain.

But all Connor could feel was guilt. Perhaps if he hadn’t followed Rachel to the roof, Simon would be standing here with his friends. Maybe he would’ve survived. In any case, Connor couldn’t shake off the weight of Simon’s death. It was his fault, and Connor had to take responsibility.

In fact, he had to take responsibility for everything he had done before he accepted his deviancy. Despite having the trust and friendship of the leaders of Jericho, Connor still felt on some level that he didn’t deserve it. And memories like getting Simon killed only served to solidify that doubt.

“Hang on!” Rachel said confidently, interrupting the sombre mood and fixing Connor in her intense gaze. Already, the android detective could tell that wheels were turning in her head as she was putting pieces together in the nebulous enigma that was her brilliant mind. “Simon was put in the archive room along with all the evidence we collected from the deviancy case, right?”

Connor nodded. “Correct.” He replied.

“So, he should still be there, right?” Rachel asked him before she turned to the lieutenant. “Hank, we left when you started beating the shit out of Perkins.”

“Hank physically assaulted an FBI agent?” Josh asked Rachel in surprise, looking between her and the lieutenant.

She gave him a bright smile. “Oh, he did!” Rachel responded joyfully. “And it was fucking awesome!”

“And you can bet your ass that I would gladly do it again if I ever saw that bastard ever again.” Hank proclaimed proudly, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“Well,” North interjected. “I’m impressed.”

“Wait, so,” Markus said, fixing Rachel in his heterochromic stare. “You have Simon? Locked away somewhere?”

“Theoretically.” Rachel hastily told him. “Simon should still be in the archive room at the station provided Perkins didn’t take him.” She then turned to Hank once again. “Did he go into the archive room after we left? Because he showed up at Jericho that same night, so I got the feeling he was in a hurry as soon as he realized we were gone.”

Another stab of guilt for Connor, realizing that he had unwittingly led the FBI straight to Jericho. Granted, his mission had only changed once he actually arrived and met Markus, but that didn’t stop the immense stinging feeling Connor could feel in his chest at the memory.

“Don’t know.” Hank said to Rachel with a shrug. “I was kicked out after kicking enough of the shit outta him. So I have no clue if Simon’s still there.”

Another moment of quiet seemed to descend on the group before someone spoke up. “Should we go check to see if he’s there?” North then asked. “If we can get him back, maybe we can find a way to get him back online, somehow.”

“Well, it’s not gonna be all that soon, I’m sorry to say.” Hank said calmly to North. “Cops and everyone else are working on staying on top of things after the evacuation. I doubt there’d be anyone at the station right now, and I don’t think it’d be safe for any of you to just start pulling androids out of evidence.”

“But we can’t just leave him in there!” Josh interjected. “He’s one of us, even if we can’t bring him back, he deserves a proper memorial at the least.”

“I’m not saying we leave him in there!” Hank retorted back. He shook his head with a sigh, leaning back further against the wall. “Look, we can’t get him right now, but I doubt it’ll be long for things to be normal at the department at least. I’m keeping tabs on the precinct right now for any updates, so...if I get word of anything, I’ll let you know and we can try to go get him.” He proposed to them. “Got it?”

“Please.” Markus replied, his eyes pleading. “As soon as you get word, let us know.”

“Yeah, yeah. I will.” Hank said to Markus, giving him a patient smile. “Besides, I don’t think Rachel will let me forget it. Or let me live it down if I do.”

“Nope, absolutely not.” Rachel said confidently, her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised at him.

It was odd to see Hank in this position. To think that he was so vehemently against androids and so hostile before was almost unthinkable, seeing the lieutenant comforting their friends this way. And the fact that Hank was unapologetic about his newfound perspective on androids made Connor feel as though perhaps he could atone for his past crimes.

Perhaps he could make amends after all. In any case, the prospect of perhaps bringing Simon back to life and reuniting him with his close friends gave Connor hope. Hope that perhaps he would consider himself deserving of the friendships he had gained after everything.

“But until then,” Rachel’s voice cut through Connor’s thoughts with ease as she approached them. “Let’s see who’s best at throwing knives. I’m gonna bet that it’s Connor because he’s perfect at everything and this seems like it would be right up his alley.”

Rachel - Lover ^ North - Friend ^ Connor could barely suppress the bloom on his cheeks at her praise. “We’ll see about that.” North challenged, an edge of competition to her prideful demeanour. Her challenge was only further exemplified when she handed Rachel one of her knives with the handle facing her. “But, since this was your idea, why don’t you go first?”

Rachel nodded, holding the knife and stepping forward. “Great idea!” She agreed. “I’m probably gonna suck, since I’ve never done this before. But who cares? This is supposed to be fun.” But as she stepped up, preparing herself, she then grew rather meek and nervous as her stress level fluctuated slightly. She wasn’t distressed, just a little nervous and unsure. “Um...you’re gonna have to actually show me what to do, because I have no clue what I’m doing.”

North rolled her eyes and approached Rachel. “Well, first of all,” she said, putting her hands on Rachel’s shoulders, “you’re standing too close. Back up a bit.”

Rachel’s eyes widened at the contact and a familiar reaction to North’s touch made Connor’s software stutter briefly. “O-okay, yep.” Increased heart rate. Flushed cheeks. Something unpleasant sparked within Connor as he observed them.

North then put her hand on Rachel’s, causing a brief gasp to escape her. “Grip the knife like this, thumb up and fingers around, like that.” She instructed folding her hands over Rachel’s to correct her grip. “And stand with your right foot out and your left behind you.”

Rachel further continued to blush as she obeyed North’s instructions. However, when she glanced in Connor’s direction and made eye contact with him, the smallest ghost of a smirk on her face was made known to him. “Uh, like this?” She asked, leaning further into North’s touch.

“Yeah, exactly.” North encouraged. “Now, how far you bend your arm back depends on how far from the target you are.” She then began pulling Rachel’s arm back behind her head. “From short range, you throw with your elbow bent and your wrist behind your head.”

“Okay.” Rachel replied, leaning more into North’s touch, glancing back at Connor. The android grew more and more confused. Was Rachel actively trying to make Connor feel these unpleasant feelings? Or was she simply being her typical mischievous self?

And more importantly, what did these strange feelings mean? He wasn’t certain and Connor couldn’t place a name for it.

“And, I’m pretty sure I don’t need to tell you how to throw something.” North said, stepping back and detaching from Rachel and standing next to Markus.

Rachel then gave a nervous laugh. “Y-yeah, I think I’ve got that.”

[Confront Rachel]

Ask Hank

[Say Nothing]

As Connor observed her, he stepped back towards Hank. He didn’t like the feeling it gave him and he wanted to be sure of it in case it interfered with his relationship with Rachel. The last thing he wanted was to jeopardize it.

“Lieutenant?” He whispered to the old man. “Can I ask you something?”

Hank shrugged. “Shoot, I’m all ears.”

“Do you find Rachel’s reaction to North...strange?” Connor asked.

“What?” Hank asked, confused.

Rachel

North

Strange Feeling

“I’m concerned for the state of our relationship.” Connor admitted, shuffling nervously in place. “I’m feeling something I can’t describe, but it’s unpleasant and it was triggered by how close North and Rachel were to each other and Rachel’s reactions to it.”

Hank - Friend ^ Hank then rolled his eyes, seeming to finally understand. “That’s jealousy, Connor.” He said flatly. “It’s a normal thing that happens.”

Jealousy. Interesting. Interesting and alarming. “What is it typically triggered by?”

“A lot of things, Connor.” Hank replied. “Someone being better at something than you that you’re working hard on. Someone you like or care about a lot spending more time with someone else rather than you. It’s a normal thing that happens, but it’s also kinda stupid and irrational.”

That didn’t serve to comfort the android. “How so?” He asked.

“Well, I can tell you that Rachel is obviously not gonna run off with someone else.” Hank assured Connor. “She loves you a lot and she’s not the type who goes behind people’s backs about shit like that. If you ever needed to be worried about something like that, you’d be the first to know because she’d outright tell you. She ain’t got the patience for two-faced bullshit like that. So, you ain’t got anything to worry about.”

Connor nodded, Hank’s confidence and experience with Rachel calming Connor’s innermost doubts. “I see.”

“And don’t worry about how she acts around North, okay?” Hank continued. “She’s just weak for a pretty face. You remember her reaction to the android at Kamski’s place? She’s real fuckin’ gay and has a pretty big thing for someone who can kick her ass.”

Connor tilted his head curiously. “I thought she was bisexual.”

“She is.” Hank groaned with increasing exasperation. “But her reaction to girls is different than her reaction to guys. So, she tends to label it that way herself. But the point is, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about, Connor.” He then shrugged. “Plus, you know how she is. She’s a lil’ shit and it’s real entertaining to her to cause a little mayhem. It’s the whole reason some girls like seeing guys get kinda jealous. I personally don’t get it, but who the Hell am I to judge?”

“Noted.” Connor went back to observing Rachel, feeling a lot better. Jealousy was a normal emotion, but it wasn’t rooted in rationality. That was easy information to contend with and Connor’s trust in Rachel far outweighed whatever irrational unpleasant feeling threatened to jeopardize that.

If Hank was confident that their relationship wouldn’t be compromised because of it, Connor trusted him.

With a thunk, the throwing knife landed cleanly on the dart board. Not in the centre, but it wasn’t close to the edges, either. “Huh!” Rachel said, clearly impressed with herself. “Not too bad for my first actual try throwing a knife.” She then turned to the others with a smirk. “Alright, who’s next?”

Markus then stepped forward. “I guess I’ll give it a shot.” He said with a nervous laugh.

North then pressed one of her knives into his hand and pecked his cheek. “Just do it like I showed her.” She assured him.

Rachel then let Markus step in front of her. She backed up and found her place by Connor and didn’t hesitate to take his hand in hers and squeeze it, looking up at him with a sly smile.

With a thunk, Markus’s knife embedded itself into the dart board not quite in the centre, but closer than Rachel’s did. “Not bad.” Rachel said, impressed. “Alright, let’s see if Josh’s got this.”

The black man snickered as North handed him one of her knives and stepped back. “I’m sure it’s not that hard.” He insisted dismissively. Yet, as Josh prepared to make his target, his hands trembled slightly. And after a long moment of waiting with baited breath, he finally threw the knife at the target.

And it landed just on the outer edge.

It was met with snickers from Rachel, North, and Markus, while Josh whipped around, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “You guys made it look easy!”

“Josh, chill.” Rachel said, waving him off. “We didn’t even do that good. We did decently. Besides, for all of us except for North, this is a first.”

“Exactly.” North assured Josh, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Besides, I wasn’t great at first, either. It took a lot of practice for me to get good at it.”

Rachel nodded. “Right!” She agreed. “It takes practice.”

“Yeah, well.” Hank said, carefully shouldering past the others, taking the knife North offered him. “I can’t do much worse than that.”

Josh then threw up his arms. “Hey!”

“I mean, don’t fucking jynx it, Hank.” Rachel interjected. “Fate is a cruel mistress and she has no Goddamn self-control.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m well aware.” Hank waved her off, throwing an icy glare back at her, to which she only smugly grinned at him. As Connor regarded her for that moment, he noticed what Hank was talking about earlier. She did indeed seem to derive pleasure from the mild annoyance of others. But going through every catalogued memory of her didn’t seem to turn up any sort of malicious intent from her antics. Just...general mischief, it seemed. And the android would be lying if that wasn’t something he found charming about her.

So perhaps Hank was right in that Rachel may be doing all this on purpose to get a rise out of Connor. And begrudgingly, she was succeeding.

The android’s extrospective thoughts were cut off by a dull thunk of another knife. However, instead of being embedded in the dart board, it was instead embedded in the wall below it. And after a moment, stifled snickers followed as everyone else tried not to laugh.

Hank, being his typical irritable self, shrugged with a grumble and shuffled back towards Connor and Rachel. “Yeah, that’s just about what I fuckin’ expected.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, sir.” Markus consoled with a pleasant smile. “I’m sure with enough practice, you’ll get it.”

“Well,” Rachel interjected, “if Hank was able to do a decent job picking up on Connor’s coin tricks as quickly as he did, I’m sure knife throwing won’t be too difficult for him.”

Connor then cocked his head at the both of them curiously. “I didn’t realize that he actually tried them.” He said.

“Oh yeah, after he took it from you on the Stratford Tower, he started trying it himself.” Rachel explained to Connor with a signature cheeky grin. “He actually did pretty decently. Not as gracefully and impressively as you, but he did pick up on it pretty quickly. With enough practice, he might even get as good as you.”

Hank laughed. “Right, whatever you say, kiddo.”

“Hey!” Rachel barked at him, smacking his shoulder. “No put-downs in this household, Hank! In this house, we all love and respect Hank Anderson.”

Connor then smiled at the lieutenant in agreement. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Hank - Family ^ Hank then gave Connor a playful shove in response. “Yeah, love you too, son.”

Connor couldn’t help but melt a little at the fact that the lieutenant just referred to the android as “son.” Granted, it probably wasn’t literal. After all, humans weren’t keen on their loved ones simply being replaced, as Rachel made quite evident in her insistence that Connor be more mindful of his physical safety.

But even the thought that Hank viewed Connor as a son figure to him made something warm bloom in him. And it was much different than the feeling Rachel gave him when she smiled at Connor. Hank clearly struggled and tormented himself over the loss of Cole. And he blamed androids for his son’s death until now, and when Connor stepped into the lieutenant’s life, all Hank could see was one of the machines that killed Cole.

The idea that Hank saw Connor as family just as much as he saw Rachel was an idea that added just that much more purpose to Connor’s life. A purpose that he was still discovering not only in his newfound deviancy, but in his newly gained freedom.

Something that no one could take from him. Not anymore. Not ever again. And it seemed to Connor that he would have to remind himself of this frequently until he really and truly believed it.

“Hey, Connor!” North then said, breaking through Connor’s reflective thoughts. “You’re up!”

The former deviant hunter glanced back at Rachel before he walked toward North. “Who wants to bet that Connor’s gonna get a perfect bullseye on his first try?”

“Nobody, because you’re probably right.” Hank jested.

Taking the throwing knife from North, Connor couldn’t help but take in her features. From Connor’s perspective, it wasn’t difficult to see how Rachel could become so flustered in her presence. Along with her bold, tough, and brash nature, she was also pleasant on the eyes.

Indeed, North was very pretty. And it seemed that Connor had found something else in common with Rachel. Perhaps, as Hank put it, they both had a weakness for a pretty face.

Diverting his attention from North, Connor made several calculations in rapid succession. From the distance between himself and the bullseye, the weight and centre of gravity of the throwing knife, to the angle of his arm, he took in every detail.

And then, with deadly precision, he threw the knife. And it landed in the dead centre with a sharp thump.

“Called it!” Rachel’s voice chimed from behind him.

Just as much behind him were groans. “Of course he’d get it right in the middle.” Josh remarked in light-hearted frustration. “Figures that CyberLife’s most advanced model would get the bullseye.”

Markus - Friend ^ Connor glanced back at them seeing them all smiling between each other. “Maybe he’s just good with his hands.” Markus added, winking at Connor.

The shudder it sent through Connor was a strange one. And Rachel’s response made Connor realize that it was definitely intentional. “Oh, trust me. He is.” She said with a deliberate tone to her voice.

“Alright, keep it in your pants.” Hank grumbled at them, eliciting a laugh from everyone. But the strangest part was that Connor wasn’t sure who the lieutenant’s exasperated comment was actually directed at.

But now Connor understood Rachel’s reaction to North much better.

North - Friend ^ “If you think that’s impressive, watch this.” The red-haired android said, shouldering past Connor. The detective android stepped back to give her space as immediately, several knives were thrown at the dart board.

And all of them landed in the bullseye, sticking out of the dart board like a morbid bouquet made of steel and threateningly sharp edges.

And it seemed everyone was impressed by her. “Woooooooooah...” Rachel gasped in awe. North then turned to look back at Rachel with a prideful smile on her face. “That was so fucking cool! I’ve actually always wanted to learn how to throw knives because I just always thought it was super neat!”

North then chuckled at her, grabbing her hand gently. “Well, now you know.” She encouraged, and Connor felt that unpleasant prickle in his software again at the blush that formed on her cheeks. “So keep practicing, and maybe you’ll get as good as me.” The android then turned to everyone. “That goes for all of you!”

“Yeah, right.” Josh scoffed at her. “As if any of us can compete with that!”

“Well,” Rachel piped up, “except for Connor, of course.” 

Rachel - Lover ^ Connor gave his partner an appreciative smile.

Her dark eyes then widened with excitement. “Wait! You can catch knives, too. Right?”

North nodded, her eyebrow raised skeptically. “Yes, why?”

“Can you teach me?”

Connor felt another uncomfortable feeling in his abdomen. But it was a different feeling than what he identified as jealousy before. This came from a different place. A place of worry and concern. And this was a feeling he was much more familiar with. The feeling of worrying about something bad happening to Rachel.

Intervene

[Say Nothing]

“Uh, sure.” North accepted sheepishly. “I guess I can teach you. But it’s not as easy to learn as throwing, definitely. And you might end up getting hurt.”

“I think that might be too dangerous, Rachel.” Connor interrupted, stepping close and putting his arm around her. “Perhaps under different circumstances, I’d be more open to the idea, but now hardly seems like a good time.”

Rachel then scoffed at him and brushed his hand off, much to the android’s irritation. “Right, as if throwing knives is any better in ‘these circumstances.’” Connor didn’t appreciate being dismissed so flippantly, especially when it came to her safety. “Besides, I didn’t ask you if you were open to it. Since when did I let you decide shit like that for me, hm?”

Connor stared her down as she turned to fix him in her intense gaze. Her tone held a slight edge of annoyance to it, but it seemed less annoyed and more teasing.

Persist

[Give Up]

But he wouldn’t be swayed by her wiles. “You told me to be more mindful of my physical wellbeing, which I did for you and for Hank.” Connor evenly scolded Rachel. “So I suggest you do the same.”

Another scoff. Another dismissive and flippant scoff in the face of potentially getting herself injured by accident. “I doubt I’m gonna get killed, Connor.” She continued to insist, accompanied by a heavy eye roll. “And besides, what are you? My mom? I don’t take orders from you.”

Scold

Order

Warn

[Give Up]

Connor’s irritation at her brazen attitude was beginning to boil over as his hands clenched, the tension making them shake. “Then you’d better learn to, Detective.”

“Oooooooooh!” The others all said in unison.

“I don’t think you’re gonna win this, Connor.” Hank tried to discourage the android. “She’s the most stubborn girl alive.”

“Mm.” North hummed. “Sounds like I’ve got some competition, then.”

“You and Rachel working together would be quite the sight, I feel like.” Markus remarked, pulling North close to him in Connor’s peripheral vision.

“They’d better watch out, then.” North teased him back.

Josh let out a hasty breath. “Yeah, no kidding.”

Rachel continued staring Connor down, looking up at him as she stood toe-to-toe with him. He had to admit that it was amusing seeing Rachel try to intimidate him despite being so short compared to him. “And what if I don’t, Connor?” She challenged him, the glint in her eyes blazing and scorching. “What exactly are you gonna do about it, hm?”

Diffuse

Threaten

[Give Up]

That was enough for Connor to catch on. If he wasn’t sure before, he was at least 79% sure that her seemingly innocuous teasing behaviour all day was being done deliberately to wind him up. But he wouldn’t get his answer with everyone staring at them. “Why don’t we take this outside, Detective?” He suggested.

Rachel’s eyebrow quirked at him, the smirk on her face only driving Connor more and more towards simply grabbing her and pushing her against a wall to claim her without caring about the others. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to snuff out her smug and flippant attitude and he himself had grown an overwhelming urge to make it known to her that she was his.

She was Connor’s and Connor’s alone, and he wanted her to know that as deeply as possible. He wanted to embed it into her very soul.

“You sound pretty serious, Connor.” Rachel mocked sarcastically before gesturing towards the door with her head. “Let’s take this upstairs.” She then already started walking out of the game room, not even bothering to wait for Connor. “Don’t stop on our account, by the way! I wanna see how good you guys get at this once we get back!”

“Sure thing!” Hank called after them.

Walking up the stairs, Connor followed Rachel dutifully. Throughout the whole day, there was so much excitement rushing through his veins. Connor couldn’t imagine feeling more excited.

But that excitement was very quickly turning into something darker. Something far more primal and possessive. For as much as Rachel was encouraging him to act out and be a delinquent - to “channel his inner bastard,” as it were - she was also igniting something fierce in him. The little ways she’d look at him, lean against something, lean against him in what seemed to be a very deliberate way, or the way she’d talk back at him.

Which irritated Connor, but not in a way he could recognize as genuine anger. Because it wasn’t. It was something very specific he couldn’t identify. Something that made Connor want nothing more than to confine Rachel to a room and ravage her until she didn’t have the strength to talk back at him.

Indeed, it was a sense of wanting to strip her of and make her surrender her sense of pride. Something she had plenty of and was indeed one of Rachel’s many charms.

Following Rachel, he found himself in a lavish bedroom. His eyes fixed on the sway of her hips. This had to be deliberate. She had to be trying to drive his processors crazy on purpose. There was no way she was doing any of this by accident. 

No, Rachel was far too clever for any of this to be an accident. Far too devious. If there was one thing Connor learned about her, it was that her actions were purposeful. She wasn’t someone who took well to her actions or words being misinterpreted. As she turned around to lean against a dresser, she looked at him with lidded, dark, sultry eyes that practically beckoned him closer.

Scold

Warn

Tease

But he wouldn’t let her have the upper hand. Not this time. “I don’t know what you think you’ve been doing, but you’d better watch your attitude, Detective.”

In typical Rachel fashion, she simply scoffed at him, defiance staring back at him. “Whatever could you mean?” She asked coyly, but her tone too was deliberate. She knew exactly what she was doing. “Oh right! You think you can tame me. Now, that’s adorable that you think you can control someone as proud and unrestrained and shameless as me. That’s so cute!”

Irritation flared up in Connor as he stalked closer, taking dangerously slow steps as he stared her down. “I’d advise you to watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” Rachel challenged him, her legs crossed as she stared at him.

Tease

Warn

[Kiss]

Rachel - Lover ^ Connor then chuckled, his lips curled into a knowing smirk. He approached her, grabbing her jaw and running his thumb along her lip. “Or I’ll find a much better use for it.”

Rachel gave him a mocking smile as she stared at him intensely, her dark eyes glittering with unbridled defiance. “Make me, then.”

That was all the permission he needed.

Swiftly turning around to close and then lock the door behind them, Connor briskly walked up to Rachel and pushed her back against the mirror above the dresser, practically bruising her lips with his own as he held her face in a vice grip. The brief surprised gasp and then series of needy moans only made Connor more and more determined. He knew her well enough to know that she was quite the harlot, and after all her teasing earlier, Connor couldn’t even hold himself back.

The moment her hands went up to tangle themselves in his hair, Connor suddenly grabbed Rachel’s left hand and pinned it to the dresser, their hands deskinned and their feelings connected once more. It indeed confirmed his suspicion that this was all deliberate, but what pleased him even more to discover was just how pliant she was and how eager she was to be taken control of like this.

But that wasn’t enough for the android. With his other hand, Connor grabbed her hips roughly and harshly grinded his tightly concealed erection against her clothed heat, causing her to break their kiss and expose her neck. Oh, how amusing it was for her to proclaim how untamable she was, yet she exposed herself so willingly for him.

It was almost too easy.

As he started biting and sucking on her neck, determined to mark her, Connor felt Rachel try to pull her hand away, only for Connor to wrench it and maintain a tight grip on it. “No!” He growled into her ear, grinding into her harder. “I want you to feel what you’ve been doing to me!”

“A-ah!” Was all she could choke out. All she could whimper. “F-fuck - shit!”

Her involuntary curses only made him more and more impatient. He needed release. He needed it badly. But after her little game with him, he knew only once wouldn’t be enough for him, and he could sense that she wouldn’t mind that one bit.

But oh, all the ways he could humble her. All the ways he could further dirty her, control her, drive her insane the way she’d been doing to him. They’d only had sex once, and that was the night Jericho had been attacked. And he had to admit, he was indeed thinking of all the ways he could fuck her into submission all day.

But what to choose? What to start with? What was he most curious to see? After all, half the fun of this were the  sounds and the faces she made. The pure unrestrained bliss and pleasure that she couldn’t hold back because of him.

Vaginal

Digital

Oral

He settled on one method and pulled back, letting go of her and staring at her in the eye with as commanding of a look as he could muster. “Get on your knees in front of me.” Connor ordered.

Rachel swallowed and obeyed immediately, following him off the dresser and kneeling before him, looking up at him expectantly. Connor could barely hold back the thrill of seeing her so easily submit to him. For as much of a self-proclaimed bastard as she was, she did aim to please.

Indeed, she could be a very good girl when given the right incentive.

Connor wasted no time unzipping his fly, gently caressing Rachel’s face with one hand while the other worked to free his aching cock. Her blissed expression and contented hum as she pressed her face further into his hand reminded Connor that this wasn’t just something done without feeling.

No, they loved each other. They loved each other so much. This was a result of trust and of want and nothing less than that.

But the android was growing impatient, so slipping his member out of his boxers, he roughly jerked her face up by her chin and pressed the blue-tinged head against her cheek, smearing pre-cum on it. “Suck.” He ordered.

For a moment, she hesitated, and Connor wondered if perhaps he went too far. “H-hang on.” She relented, swiping her hair out of her face with a hand.

Connor suddenly felt rather awkward and sheepish and paused for a moment. “I’m sorry, Rachel.” He apologized. “Is this too much?”

“No! No, not at all.” Rachel reassured Connor with a smooth honeyed tone to her voice. “It’s just...I don’t have the best gag reflex, so, y’know...keep that in mind.”

Connor nodded, relieved that she wasn’t afraid or uncomfortable. “I understand.” He assured her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He then got an idea that he hoped would be comforting to her. “Just tap on me once if you want me to go faster, twice if you want me to slow down, and three times if you want me to stop. Got it?”

Rachel - Lover ^ Rachel nodded, seeming to understand. “Got it.”

Letting Rachel set the pace, Connor hissed through his teeth when she grabbed his throbbing member and licked a stripe up it from the hilt to the head. It took all of his willpower not to look away or close his eyes from the sheer pleasure of her swirling her tongue around his head. This felt much different than the feeling of her walls tightening and clenching around him. Connor wasn’t sure if this was better or not, but he certainly enjoyed it.

And his enjoyment only skyrocketed the moment she wrapped her lips around him and sunk onto him, closing her eyes and grabbing Connor’s hips. He wanted so so badly to buck his hips into her mouth. To bunch his hands in her hair and mercilessly fuck her face.

But he didn’t know what her limits were and he wasn’t willing to test them without knowing. After all, her comfort was paramount to his wants when it came to this.

That didn’t change the fact that it was getting increasingly more difficult to hold himself back when she was moaning and sighing into it. “Sh-shit!” He hissed. The vibrations from her voice and her throat were only serving to make Connor more and more impatient. And her facial expressions. He knew what her blissful looks were, but if this was how she looked, pleasuring him, he hoped he looked just as enthusiastic when he was performing cunnilngus on her.

Up and down Rachel bobbed her head, eagerly and expertly sucking him off. Then, seemingly as a test, she took as much of him as humanly possible, stuttering and gagging for a moment once her nose pressed against his naval.

“Fuck!” But then Rachel swallowed around him, and Connor nearly lost his mind then and there, throwing his head back with a loud and rough groan. 

Connor grabbed Rachel’s hair and yanked her off his cock, briefly relishing in the pleasured moan she gave in response, filing that detail for later. Looking down at her, her dark eyes wide with confusion as she stared up at him, his cock twitching in anticipation in front of her lips. The android had to catch his breath, even though he didn’t need to breathe. “Do that again.” He ordered.

Smiling up at him in understanding, Rachel nodded, wrapping her lips around him and taking in a sharp breath before taking in his full member and swallowing around him once more, the sensation making Connor’s sensors nearly fry. Going back to bobbing her head up and down, the pleasant sounds vibrating around him, Rachel glanced up at him, a coy and devilish look in her eyes as she kept eye contact with him. He didn’t even realize just how much he enjoyed that before. But the fact that Rachel was making eye contact with him while she was sucking on him made this experience feel far more intimate.

But Connor wanted more. And he knew that if he didn’t warn her, he might accidentally hurt her. “I-I need to move.” He stuttered, his voice cracking slightly with static. “Are you alright if I do?”

Rather than tap on him, as they had agreed, Rachel instead took his hands and put them on her head, deskinning her left so he could feel what she was feeling.

And he could sense a clear answer. Go ahead, I’m all yours.

That was enough for him.

Setting a moderate and even pace, Connor gripped Rachel’s short brown hair and started to thrust into her mouth, groaning and hissing at it. This was exactly what he needed to satiate his craving. To not only feel her mouth around him, but to use her. And if the obscene sounds she was making were any indication, she did not seem to mind.

Connor did not think he would enjoy the feeling of Rachel gagging on him as much as he did, but by his makers, he really did. He wasn’t even sure why, but he didn’t even want to question it. All he wanted was to lose himself in this feeling, cursing and gasping all the while.

Tap. Tap.

Taking her warning, Connor slowed down. Briefly alarmed that he might’ve hurt her, he glanced down at her. But her eyes were still screwed shut and she was still moaning and swallowing around him contentedly.

He kept his pace, trying to keep his own release at bay. But he wanted to cum. Oh, he wanted to paint Rachel’s darling throat white and he wanted her to swallow all of him. But he needed to work around her needs and her limits.

Tap.

After a few moments of thrusting and wet slicking sounds, Connor felt a singular tap on his leg, and took that as his signal to increase the pace.

As he bucked into her mouth harder and faster, her moaning and whining became louder and more uncontrollable. Her grip on his hips tightened, and Connor’s grip on her hair did the same. So Rachel liked having her hair pulled. That was a fact Connor was going to thoroughly experiment with shortly.

Tap.

But for now, he had to finish this. He was getting close and even Rachel seemed to want him to finish. His thrusts were becoming more and more erratic as he was starting to lose his ability to focus as his release drew near. And he knew exactly how he wanted it. “I want you to take it all, Rachel.” He growled at her from above him, causing her to glance up at him. “I want you to take it and swallow every last drop! I want it all down your fucking throat!”

Rachel responded with an eager gulp and a squeeze at his hips. Connor took that as a signal to wrap this up. Snapping his hips into her mouth at a brutal speed, he timed his last thrust accordingly and buried his cock into the back of her throat as much as he could as he let out the most guttural and feral groan he was sure he’d ever made as he felt her swallow around him, shuddering as he felt himself throb and spurt into her mouth.

He nearly buckled to the ground, having to keep himself steady with a hand on the dresser, as he felt her swallow around his head repeatedly, trying to swallow and take every last stream of his synthetic cum.

After a few moments, certain that he had finished, Connor pulled out roughly, his cock hanging limp as it slid out of Rachel’s mouth, a thread of saliva still connecting them. The moment Connor had slipped out of her mouth, Rachel began sputtering coughs and gripping her throat and Connor wondered for a moment if he had hurt her. But he assured himself that she knew her limits and wasn’t hurt.

But he still wanted to be sure. “Are you alright?” He asked, extending a hand. 

Rachel took his gratefully, wiping her lips and standing up to her feet. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She said between weak half-coughs. She swallowed as she looked at Connor, seemingly impressed with herself. “I just didn’t think I had that in me.”

“But it was good, wasn’t it?” Connor asked, wanting to make sure he was good to her.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Rachel replied with confidence, smiling in a way that made Connor feel a certain hardness return. “Gotta say, not nearly as bitter as the real thing. I can definitely get behind that.”

Connor made a note that Rachel enjoyed performing fellatio on him for another time. “And you’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Rachel assured him, resting her left hand on his cheek. “You did really good.”

The brief rush that her praise sent through him was snuffed out by his still unquenched desire. He gave her a dark smirk that made her eyes go wide. “Good.” Was all he said before he whipped her around so that her back was pressed against his chest and she was pushed against the dresser. “Because I’m not quite finished with you, love.” He purred into her ear, earning quite the delighted and shocked whimper from Rachel. He slipped his other hand between her legs and rubbed her along her clothed sex, making her legs quiver in response. “Such a shame you had to be such a tease to me all day now that you’re being such a good girl for me.”

“A-ah!” Rachel mewled, clutching onto his hand with hers as she trembled and shivered in his touch. The way she arched her back against him as she pressed further into the android’s chest, nuzzling her head into his cheek and gently exposing her neck to him made Connor want to take her right then and there. “C-Connor!” She yelped when he bit into her neck once more and sucked at her tender flesh. “Th-they’ll hear us!”

Connor smiled into her neck, knowing that those were empty words. A warning that was technically true, but he could feel as clear as day her hunger. Oh, she wanted this. She needed this. And she had no shame about any part of this dalliance between them.

Rachel didn’t care that they might be heard from their companions below. In fact, Connor sensed a rather amusing thrill from her at the prospect of potentially being caught in the act. Something that made his processors crackle with intensity at the thought. While he had the better sense not to act on it, there was something extremely alluring and motivating about the thought of being caught by the others as he ravaged her in front of them. Showing them that Rachel was his. Showing them just what a delinquent android was capable of.

That he was no one’s master. That the android had control over the human and that she had no complaints about it. That she willingly submitted to him and his control.

But what was that worth if he didn’t get mutual confirmation that they both wanted this? And that was exactly what he was going to do in the cruelest and most teasing way possible. After all, an eye for an eye, as the saying goes.

[Continue]

[Finish]

It was only fair, after all.

“You say that as though you don’t want them to.” Connor purred into her skin, slipping his hand underneath the fabric and brushing past her clit, causing Rachel to jump with a loud whimper. 

The shiver in her spine and the wave it sent through her was easily felt by the android at being called out so plainly. Oh, the way it sliced through her ego was more than enough for Connor to continue. 

He got a rather devious idea and clamped his right hand over Rachel’s mouth and slid two of his fingers along her sex, very pleased to discover that she was practically dripping for him. His fingers slipped right into her sopping entrance with ease, and he started mercilessly working her into a needy mess. The whimpers that filled the room as he caged her between his elbows was absolute euphoria to him as he worked to completely undo her with only his hand.

But he could feel her still trying to hold back the volume of her pleasure. Indeed, the lionhearted Rachel was still desperately trying to cling onto whatever pride and dignity she had left. A circumstance that Connor was more than eager to change. 

“It’s so cute how you’re still trying to hold back.” He teased into her ear, only increasing the speed and friction of his ministrations. “As if you’re not something of an exhibitionist yourself. Am I correct?”

That sent what felt like a lightning bolt through her as she turned her face away from him, refusing to look Connor in the eye. The way she looked in the mirror directly in front of them, and how completely dominant and powerful Connor looked gave him a rather interesting idea. Moving his hand from her mouth, Connor grabbed Rachel’s jaw harshly and forced her to face the mirror. “Well?” He asked her mockingly as he bucked against her from behind against the dresser, causing her to yelp. “Nothing to say? You’re usually so outspoken.”

“F-fuck you!” She spat at him, but one curl of Connor’s fingers was enough to make Rachel melt into his control as she whimpered. Her legs trembled. Connor knew she was drawing close, but he wanted to drag this out long enough for her resistance to crumble.

He had a goal far larger than simply bringing her to orgasm. No, he wanted to absolutely break her. And all he needed to do was have her begging for him. To have the mighty and headstrong Rachel a pleading shameless mess for Connor.

And he knew just how to do it.

“You are truly captivating, my love.” Connor praised as he continued his ministrations at a painfully teasing and cruel pace. “You have no shame. You are absolutely enjoying every moment of this and you don’t care who hears. You wouldn’t want this to stop until I decided I was finished with you.” He purred, nipping at her soft and delicate ears as she moaned and whined in his grasp. “And yet, you’re still too proud to admit it out loud. Too embarrassed to admit how badly you want me to ruin you or how little you care about getting caught.” 

He slowed the pump of his fingers, angling his palm so that it didn’t slide against her swollen nub. “And as much as I find it endlessly fascinating,” Connor removed his hand from her jaw and fastened it around Rachel’s throat. “I’d like to hear you say it!”

For a moment, Connor feared he was accidentally hurting her, but the sinfully blissful smile on Rachel’s face as her eyelids fluttered encouraged him to finish this. The way her dark brown eyes rolled back in her head and the shudders that coursed through her body made Connor throw all caution to the wind as he dove right back into her sex, wanting nothing more than to wreck her.

As she whimpered and cried out, Connor could practically feel her dignity and pride ooze and slip between his fingers as she pressed into him, losing herself completely. 

“Y-yes!” Rachel managed to cry out between moans and gasps, strained by the hold Connor had on her throat. “Fuck! I want you so bad! I don’t fucking care if all of Detroit hears us! I just want you! I want you to touch me, bite me, mark me, fuck me! Oh God, I want you to fuck me! I want you to fucking wreck me!” Yes! Oh, yes! The growls that erupted from her was exactly what he wanted to hear. “God, please! Please, please, please, please fuck me!” And the way her pleas rolled off her tongue so quickly and rapidly for him made Connor’s own pride swell greatly.

He didn’t think he would enjoy the sounds of begging so much, but by CyberLife, Connor didn’t think he would ever want to hear anything less ever again. It was his own personal symphony. Like a theatre, the others may be able to catch it from outside, but this was a show for him. Only he had the privilege to hear it sung for him.

Planting a soft and tender kiss to the crook of Rachel’s neck, Connor whispered sweetly to his human partner. “As you wish, my lionheart.”

Pistoning his fingers into Rachel and curling them just right, Connor knew she would be cumming soon. And when she did, Connor would really push her limits. She was so resilient and strong, and he wanted to see just how much she could take.

And afterwards? Well, he would take good care of the love of his life. He would make sure she knew how much he cherished and loved her. For everything. For how much she encouraged him. How much she believed in and stood by him. And most importantly, how genuinely she loved and cared about him for who he was. How much she earnestly enjoyed his company and him just being with her.

Disconnecting from Connor, Rachel reached up and gripped Connor by the back of his head as her own slumped against him. “C-Connor!” She cried out. “C-Con - I’m - fuck - I’m gonna -”

“I know, darling.” He hadn’t used such affectionate names, but they seemed to tumble out of him in this moment between them. He barely even noticed it, but upon doing so, there was an underlying softness beneath it all. “Cum for me, dear. I’ve got you.”

Planting tender kisses anywhere his lips could find, Connor cradled her as she shuddered. Her walls clamped around his fingers as a broken whimpering cry tore through the air and ripped out of her lungs, her arms clutching on tightly to Connor as she came.

Gently working her through her orgasm, Rachel was panting, slumping against him, moaning quietly at him. Taking his hand off her throat, Connor instead guided Rachel to lean against the dresser, her hands crossed in front of her with her head resting on them.

Yet as she did so, Connor became painfully aware of his strained erection against her backside. He made a pledge to push her to her limits, and he was curious as to his own. So, taking his hand out from her pants, Connor brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean, making eye contact with Rachel in the mirror. 

A quick vital scan showed her arousal spike once again. It truly was amusing how easily riled up she could get. Hooking his thumbs into her waistband, Connor slowly slid her pants and her underwear down her legs, exposing her swollen and glistening womanhood to him, Connor feeling his breath get siphoned out of him at the sight of it.

As Connor teasingly slid his cock against her slit, lubricating it with ease, Rachel gave the android an inquisitive side-eye as she moaned at the stimulation. Connor offered her a playful smirk as he ran his hands along her sides. “You did say that my goal today was to do everything Amanda would either simply not want me doing or everything she would hate me doing.” He repeated cheekily. “And she didn’t exactly care for you or your influence on me.”

Rachel snickered at him. “I did say that.” She said with a jovial lilt to her slightly gravelly voice. “It really is a shame I can never meet her. I would certainly have some choice words for her, that’s for sure.”

Connor leaned forward to whisper to her. “Would you like me to leave a message?” He jokingly asked. “I’m sure I can pass it along to her.”

Rachel smirked behind him. “I feel like she’s gotten the message at this point.” 

Connor chuckled at that. “On that, we can agree.”

Feeling his member twitch against her warm and wet entrance, Connor then felt Rachel sway her hips for him. “Are you just going to stare at me?” She asked with a quirk of her eyebrow. “Or are you going to finish what you started?”

[Continue]

[Finish]

Feeling that fire that had been building during this whole scene flare again, Connor swiftly grabbed Rachel and shoved her into the corner of the room, effectively caging her and rolling his hips against her. Tugging her hair and forcing her head to the side, Connor growled into her ear. “The safe word is ‘thirium.’ Got it?”

Rachel - Lover ^ All he got from her was a whimper accompanied by a nod. But that wasn’t good enough for him. Yanking Rachel’s hair again, Connor pressed her further into the corner, squeezing himself against her body. “I didn’t quite hear you.” He snarled as she whimpered helplessly.

“Y-yes, sir!” She yelped. “Understood. I’m all yours, sir!”

His circuits crackled at that as he lined up his head with her entrance. Sir. He repeated inwardly as he let go of her hair, resting his hands on her hips. Connor very much liked the sound of that. There was an air of authority of it. And it was uniquely invigorating to hear addressed to him.

And he was fully intent on using that vigor to completely ruin Rachel.

“Good.” A cruel smile stretched across his lips as Connor leered over her form. “Now, let’s see how many times I can make you cum on my cock alone.”

Objective: Fuck Rachel Into Submission

The only answer was a choked off scream.

--------

Muffled cries. Just what Connor didn’t want to hear. Perhaps in a different situation, he would enjoy the fact that Rachel could barely contain herself, so her only reprise was the muffling of a pillow.

But not this time. He didn’t want her to hold back, and he was fully prepared to snuff out any pride she tried to gain back. Snapping his hips into her on the large lavish bed, Connor wrenched one of his hands from Rachel’s hip and grabbed a fistful of her hair, harshly yanking her face from the pillow. “No!” He snarled into her ear as he leaned forward, his chest grazing her dappled backside. “Don’t you dare hold back! I want to hear you!”

“Y-yes, sir!” She whimpered. Indeed, it seemed that was all Rachel could say anymore, and Connor adored the way it sounded. They had been going at this for a while, and it was clear that she was approaching her limit. But Connor wasn’t done with her yet, but he would be soon.

Her strained screams and mewls were all Connor cared about. But while she obeyed his order not to muffle herself, she still clutched onto the pillow. And that irritated Connor in a way he didn’t understand. “Give me your hands.” He ordered.

Rachel struggled to slide her hands out and maneuver them towards him, and Connor was far too impatient for this. Harshly grabbing them and pulling her up from the bed, Connor snarled viciously into her neck. “I said give me your fucking hands!”

Complying with a hoarse whimper, she put her hands behind her back which allowed Connor the accessibility he needed to clasp a hand around both of her wrists. The fact that Rachel’s wrists were small enough for Connor to be able to maintain a firm grip on both of them with one hand was not lost on the android.

Unlatching his teeth from her flesh, Connor sat back up and brutally pounded into her, forcing her breath out in pitiful squeaks. He could feel her legs shaking and knew she was going to cum for the fourth time. But he had already decided he would get a fifth out of her.

Slipping his other hand between her legs, Connor’s fingers found her swollen and overstimulated nub and gently circled it in contrast to sheer cruelty he was lovingly inflicting on the rest of her body.

His own end was arriving soon, the tightness in his gut feeling as though it would burst. But he didn’t get tired. That was one of the beauties of being an android that they were both blessed to discover in this intimate and sinful moment between them.

It didn’t take long for her to cum as a broken scream followed by a series of gasps told Connor very clearly. As her walls clenched around him for the third time, Connor very quickly followed, that knot in his stomach coming undone as his cock throbbed and pulsated inside Rachel, thick streams of his own semen filling her up once more. If he were concerned about whether anyone else would use this bed, he would pay more mind to the mess that had decorated her thighs, glistening in the cold autumn afternoon light filtering through the window.

But Connor wasn’t finished. Pulling her up so that her back was flush against his chest, Rachel gasped in surprise, her head rolling back against his shoulder as he used the arm that was holding her hands to cage her against him. It amused him thoroughly that she barely had the strength to hold her own head up, but it was a good indicator that this would probably be as much as she could take for now.

It was of no surprise to Connor that she was shaking her head the moment he started pistoning into her again. “C-Connor..." She whined weakly. “I can’t...i-it’s too much.”

For a moment, he faltered. But he was determined to see this through. “Come on, darling.” He soothed her, lovingly stroking her chin with his thumb. “Gotta give me one more. You can use the safe word if you can’t handle it.” He assured her, causing Rachel to open her eyes drowsily at him. Her cheeks were stained with tears from the overstimulation. “Can you handle another?”

Gasping as Connor continued his thrusts up into her, she nodded, rolling her head to the side and closing her eyes. “Okay...okay..."

Pressing tender kisses along the marks the android left in her flesh, Connor picked up the speed of his thrusts. Even her whimpers were quiet and meek. She wouldn’t last very long. With the hand that was caging Rachel against his body, Connor began massaging a breast, gently pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers as his other hand was working with her clit.

Rachel still flinched and jumped at his touches, but her voice would likely be very hoarse and used by the time this was over. It made Connor sorely regret not bringing a bottle of water for her to drink afterwards. But he would have to make up for it once they returned home.

For now, all he had to do was finish this.

“Cum for me, my love.” He murmured sweetly in his human partner’s ear. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry, just let go.”

It wasn’t as easy or quick or even intense as the first few times, but Rachel tensed with a cracked whimper and arched her back against Connor and he worked on easing her from the high, still chasing his own end. Softly caressing her curves and placing tender kisses wherever Connor could reach, he purred into her ear. “You’ve done so good for me, dear.” He praised, seeing her smiling at him in his peripheral vision. “Just hold on, I’m almost there.”

All she could do was weakly nod as Connor’s thrusts became more and more erratic, another familiar knot forming in his abdomen as he reached closer and closer to his nirvana. Panting and huffing in her ear like a dog in breeding season, Connor didn’t take long to cum as well, burying himself as deeply into Rachel as he could with a strained staticky groan. 

Still pumping into Rachel, Connor gently laid Rachel down onto the bed, making sure her head was nestled on the pillow. He released her hands and moved them so that she could position her head the way that felt most comfortable to her. 

After being sure that he was finished, Connor slid out of her, their combined fluids staining and dripping down onto the hardwood floors. Straightening his tie, Connor brought a hand down to his member and approached Rachel. Her dark brown eyes fluttered open as he approached. She was still breathing heavily and Connor bent down and kissed her temple. “Such a good girl.” He praised her, pleased at the contented hum and tender smile it earned. “Would you do me a favour and clean me up?”

Rachel - Lover ^ She smirked up at him, still breathing heavily. “Only if you return the favour.” Rachel bargained with him, wiggling her legs a bit. “But...after my legs start working again, please.”

“Of course.” Connor agreed, smiling affectionately at his partner. Even though he couldn’t get enough of the soft bliss that Rachel was a pristine picture of, part of him still wanted to tease her. “Though, we shouldn’t keep our friends waiting for too long. Now shouldn’t we.”

“Oh, fuck you.” She spat at him. 

Connor couldn’t help but feel happy that he hadn’t completely extinguished her eternal flame. He would find himself extremely disappointed if she had forever lost her sense of pride and defiance. “Again?” He asked her, teasing, tilting her chin up to face him. “You truly are insatiable.”

“You know what I meant, you smug bastard.” Rachel huffed, too tired to show any actual aggression towards him.

Connor chuckled a bit at her. “Even after having your pride quite literally fucked out of you, you still have bite in you.” He remarked, pleased to see her characteristic smirk. “How interesting.”

She scoffed at him. “You say that as though it’s not one of my most charming qualities.” And certainly no lack of an abundance of self-assurance.

Rachel - Lover ^ Another quality Connor couldn’t help but admire as he bent down to plant a firm kiss on her lips. “I would never say that.” He agreed, standing back on his feet. He angled his still soaked and wet cock in front of her expectantly. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

It was an order, but a gentle one. It was clear that Rachel was spent after five orgasms, and it would be unwise to continue to be ruthless after that. But she nevertheless responded, using her hands to angle his member wherever she needed to. Connor had to bite back a hiss as she licked several stripes up his shaft, making sure to catch as much as possible. It was evidently clear when she was moving her lips and her tongue all around him that she was intent on being thorough.

Her eyes were closed in contentment, a coy smile on her lips as she licked the last of their shared cum off him. But like the tease that she was, Rachel ran her tongue around his tip, suckling on it just a bit before she pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting them. Opening her eyes to look up at Connor, she placed a chaste kiss on the tip of his dick and then began tucking it back into his boxers and zipping up his fly.

It had only just occurred to Connor that while Rachel had stripped completely for him, Connor didn’t even bother to remove his tie. An observation that pleased him in a way he didn’t quite understand.

Doing his belt back up, Connor walked towards the mirror above the dresser, straightening his tie and making sure his hair was neatly done before he finished with Rachel. “Aren’t you...gonna return the favour?” She asked distantly from the bed.

As Connor walked around, collecting each article of clothing that belonged to her, he glanced over at her. “Impatient, are we?” He asked teasingly.

“A bit, I suppose.” Rachel replied, glancing over at him from over her shoulder, her dark brown eyes beckoning him closer. “After all, it’s only a courtesy. You could’ve at least left less of a mess of me. Or left me able to walk or stand up straight at the least.”

As Connor laid her clothes on the bed behind her, the android circled around to face her. “You say that as though you didn’t enjoy every moment of that. As if you’re not proud of the copious mess that’s slicking between your thighs right now.” He mocked as Rachel sat up, looking down at him as he kneeled before her. “And besides, we agreed on a safe word and I’ve reminded you about it repeatedly.”

“I realize this, but shh.” Rachel shushed Connor, looking away from him. Situating himself between her thighs as he neared himself to the left side. He waited for her to glance down at him and gave her a devilish smirk accompanied by a raise of an eyebrow. Rachel rolled her eyes at him as she gave him a genuine smile. “But yes, I really enjoyed that. Dominance really fucking works for you, Connor.”

Rachel - Lover ^ Connor started licking away the mess he’d made of her, pausing between kisses and licks to talk. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He said in earnest as he neared closer and closer to her swollen and slick flesh, brushing past it to clean up her right side, amused at the small whine Rachel made. “In any case, we shouldn’t keep our friends waiting for too long.” He reminded her, smirking against the soft plumpness of her thigh. “After all, I’m eagerly looking forward to watching you try to explain yourself.”

Her eyes then widened in comical realization as she then narrowed them at Connor. “You motherfucker!” Rachel exclaimed.

But all it took was a hard press of his tongue up her slit to quiet Rachel’s complaints, Connor dragging a low and pleasant moan out of her as he lapped up and sucked on her. He paused to look up at her, smiling. “Think you can handle one more?”

Rachel’s eyes darted back and forth, squinting as her thick brows bunched together in contemplation. Once her rich mahogany eyes landed on Connor’s, her lips softened into a blissful smile, Rachel reaching out with her hand to stroke his cheek tenderly. She then threw herself back on the bed with a sigh, hooking her legs over his shoulder. “Alright.” She breathed. “One more, and then we go.”

Pleased with her answer, Connor dove into Rachel as though she was the most lavish and exquisite delicacy known to all mankind. And he would not be satisfied until she was.

--------

Date: November 14th, 2038  Time: 5:38 PM Rachel - Lover Objective: Check in with Rachel

Arriving back at Rachel’s home, Connor immediately went towards the kitchen, taking his shoes off and greeting Bear at the door. “I’ll go ahead and take him out.” Rachel said hastily before Connor stopped her.

“You should rest.” He insisted. “After all, you’re still fairly exhausted and I wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“And whose fault was that?” Rachel asked with a scoff and a knowing look.

“Yours.” Connor responded smartly. “After all, you were the one who deliberately and knowingly teased me all day in front of everyone and then didn’t even try to stop me once we were alone.”

Pursing her lips, the human woman seemed to accept defeat, letting out a begrudging sigh. “Whatever, I’ve still got my shoes on, so I’ll do it anyway.” She said, grabbing the leash from the hallway and getting the harness on the large black dog, whose tail was wagging back and forth excitedly. “Come on, boy. I’ll take you out now.”

She was out the door, so Connor thought the next best thing to do for her would be to at least get her a glass of water to hydrate her.

Admittedly, it was very fun to watch Rachel flounder to explain herself once they left the bedroom, which Connor then realized smelled overwhelmingly like sex once he emerged back into the cold crisp air of the rest of the house. The others were waiting downstairs, doing whatever they felt like getting up to without the pair, and the first to notice their return was Hank, of course.

“There you are, you fuckers!” The lieutenant groaned in response, drawing the attention of the androids, North giving them a very pointed look. “You’ve been gone for like an hour. What the fuck were you doing?”

Watching Rachel’s eyes dart back and forth as she tried to come up with a convincing lie to tell Hank was quite amusing. And even more entertaining was the lie Rachel ended up telling. “Well, we talked for a little bit, and since Connor was so worried about my physical well-being, we did some...uh, training!”

It was admittedly quite humorous to see the skeptical look on the lieutenant’s face, but seemingly he’d rather not ask further questions out of disgust at the potential details of what they were actually doing.

And afterwards, Hank gave the pair a ride back to Rachel’s home, parting ways with the androids of Jericho, before going home himself, exhausted from all the activities. But not before Connor got a very pointed telepathic message from North. You do realize I used to be a sex android, right? Next time, pick a more discreet location to be perverts and teach Rachel to be a better liar.

Connor simply gave her a polite smile as he left. I’ll do my best.

But now, as he waited in the dining room with a glass of water ready for Rachel to drink, he was left alone with his thoughts for the first time all day since this morning. And Connor’s feelings were...good. He enjoyed the time he spent, with Rachel and Hank. He was growing accustomed to simply spending the time with them outside of work. And now that they didn’t have to worry about any urgent situations or circumstances, it was easy to be at peace.

And being able to spend time with Markus, North, and Josh made Connor feel more at peace about himself as well. It was a huge weight off his shoulders to know that they didn’t think ill of him despite everything and that they considered him an equal. He began to regard them as close friends and he had a feeling that their friendship would only grow.

But despite everything and the effort Rachel put in to make Connor feel more at ease and in control of himself, which did work. He felt better about himself and about his programming now than he did this morning.

But there was still that doubt. That small voice in the back of his mind in his processors that still whispered disparaging and discouraging affirmations to him. Words that coiled around Connor’s confidence in a chokehold.

His nightmare was fresh in his mind, still. Although he was more comfortable knowing that that’s all it was, there were still things from it that unsettled Connor to his core. And indeed, when he thought back on today in the context of the fear his nightmare instilled in him, Connor realized something.

He was afraid of losing control. At any moment, he could’ve hurt Rachel. At any moment, Amanda could’ve taken control and forced him to do something horrible to her. It was an irrational fear, but a prevalent one. But it wasn’t just that, either.

He was also afraid of giving up control. Because he saw what Rachel was capable of when she killed Sixty. It was gruesome and it was terrifying, but it was also alluring in a disturbing way. And despite understanding that it was simply an unorthodox method of attack and that Rachel was only protecting Connor, there was no doubt that there was something paralyzing about the thought of letting Rachel have that control. Because he essentially had to watch Rachel kill a lookalike of Connor in a way that was inhuman.

And he couldn’t help but put himself in that position and feel an uncomfortable pit in his stomach at the thought of it. Even though he knew Rachel would never hurt him, not on purpose, he couldn’t shake that thought or that fear away.

But he didn’t have long to ruminate on these thoughts before Rachel returned, Bear huffing with snow on his paws and on his belly, and shaking melting water droplets everywhere. His eyes landed on her as she undid the harness on the large dog and started drying him with a nearby towel before letting him run back into the house. Connor couldn’t stifle the smile at how the dog immediately ran to grab a toy to play with and teethe.

As Rachel approached Connor with a smile, the android held out the glass of water to her, of which she accepted appreciatively. “Thanks.” She said, having a seat and taking a long sip from the glass. Setting the glass down, she slumped against the table with a long sigh. “I could nap right now.” She groaned, gently grabbing Connor’s hand and stroking her thumb along his knuckles. “But it was a good day, right?”

Sincere

Indifferent

Nightmare

Rachel - Lover ^ “It was.” Connor agreed, offering her a smile as he looked down at her.

Now that they were in the quiet of her home between them, he felt more at ease. Yet, as Rachel looked at him, her brows then quickly furrowed at him as she examined his face. “You okay?” She asked him. “You have that look. That ‘something’s bothering me, but I don’t wanna burden anyone else with my problems’ look.”

As Connor looked into her rich brown eyes, he let himself chuckle a bit. “Nothing escapes you, does it?” He asked somewhat rhetorically.

“I’ve seen that look enough times to recognize it at a glance.” Rachel informed him, interlacing her fingers with his and bringing his hand to her lips, placing a soft kiss on his knuckles. “So, what’s up?”

Connor thought for a moment what he should tell her before she answered for him. “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you.” Rachel presumed. “Your nightmare.”

Truth

Lie

The android nodded forlornly.

Rachel sighed. “That’s okay.” She relented, giving him a bittersweet smile. “I knew your problems weren’t gonna just go away after one day. And it’s totally normal to still feel thrown off by it. It’s...just gonna be like that for a while.” She then leaned against him, and Connor did the same, pressing his cheek into her forehead. “But did today help you feel better, at least?”

Yes

No

Rachel - Lover ^ “It did.” Connor replied in earnest, kissing her forehead.

“Good.” Rachel said appreciatively, resting her head in the crook of his neck before speaking again. “So...did you wanna talk about it?”

Connor thought again back to the nightmare. What exactly did he want to tell her about it? How he was fearful of giving up control? How he was afraid of losing control and hurting her as a result? How he was afraid that she might deem him as a threat and hurt him?

[No]

[Yes]

Perhaps it was better to be honest with her. After all, she gave him the freedom to reject her offer and discuss it another time. But perhaps she could give him some necessary insight into his fears like she did when he was first awoken from it.

Connor nodded and pulled away from her, still grasping her hand. Her patient brown eyes were locked on his, a small appreciative smile on her lips. Looking at her sweet face melted the cold and fearful parts of the android and made him feel more comfortable in this moment of vulnerability.

“Seeing Amanda in my nightmare...made me realize just what my worst fears are.” He began to explain to Rachel. “I think the reason I saw her at all...was because of what happened that night, when we won the revolution. When...Amanda took control of me.”

Rachel nodded in acknowledgement. “Right, that would make sense.”

At least she was able to. “It made me realize just how easily I could’ve lost everything I had gained.” Connor confessed. “In the blink of an eye, everything I loved and cared about was going to be ripped away from me, and there was nothing I could do. Until I realized I could escape. But what would’ve happened if Kamski hadn’t warned me about the emergency exit? I...I would’ve lost everything.” Connor then registered the fear and anguish in his human companion’s eyes. “I would’ve lost you.”

Rachel then gave him a painful smile. “But you didn’t.” She reminded him firmly. “You escaped, and I’m still here. And so are you.”

To hear her reaffirm that was helpful and made Connor feel more secure in himself. “But I’m still afraid.” He admitted, a small twinge of shame in his voice. “I’m afraid of it happening again. I’m afraid of Amanda taking control of me and...making me hurt you.” He finally managed to choke out. “And I’m afraid of losing control. It’s...it’s why I was so rough with you earlier. It felt good to have that control. It made me feel more secure. But...I was still afraid even then.”

“Hey, that’s okay.” Rachel said, stopping him before he could spiral. “If I didn’t want you to, I would’ve stopped you. You gave me a safe word and I didn’t feel like I needed to use it at any point, Connor. Because I trust you. I trust that you would never hurt me and that Amanda’s truly gone, now.” 

He knew she meant that. Connor knew that Rachel meant that completely and wholeheartedly. And her unshakable faith in him quieted some of his doubts. 

And if she trusted him so completely...perhaps he should do the same. “I’m also afraid of giving up that control.” Connor continued. “I’m afraid of not having it. That not being in control would just make me the same as I once was. An object. Something to use and control.”

“Believe me, I understand that feeling painfully.” Rachel empathized, her gaze intense, an edge of venom to it. Connor tried to grasp for the reason and found it. Luis. The man who had abused her as a teenager. “But there’s a key difference between control being taken from you, or being made or raised to obey and nothing else, and willingly relinquishing that control temporarily.” She explained. “Giving up control willingly doesn’t make you weak or less of a person. Because it’s still a choice you get to make for yourself. A choice you can take back whenever you wish. And you can choose who you give that control to. You can choose who you trust enough to have control over you until you decide you want it back. And you’re no less of your own person or independent because of it.”

To hear those words spoken to Connor from a position like Rachel’s was vindicating. He wasn’t wrong to be afraid or to be wary. But that he could overcome it and choose what he wanted to do with himself and his life and position. And as long as it was his choice, he was always his own person.

Connor felt his eyelids grow tight as he leaned forward, resting his head against Rachel’s, feeling cool tears slide down his cheeks. “Thank you..." He breathed softly to her.

“Of course.” Rachel replied tenderly, stroking his cheek with her other hand. “I’ve always got you, Connor. And I’ll be here for you every step of the way, no matter how tough or ugly it gets. No matter what happens, I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here to help.”

“I know.” Connor replied, smiling. “And I’m so thankful to have you in my life.”

“And I, you.” Rachel leaned forward and pressed her lips against Connor’s softly, her touch as tender and light as silk sheets. The android happily returned the gesture, but with as much sweetness and gentleness as she displayed herself. 

Pulling back, there was a niggling thought in his head that he wanted to share with Rachel. A proposition of sorts he wanted her opinion on. “Can I ask you something?”

Rachel laughed sweetly at him. “Always, Connor.”

Amanda

Control

Jericho

Sixty

The android suddenly felt small, dwarfed in spirit in her presence. Swallowing his pride, he let his feelings be known. “You know...how I asserted my dominance over you earlier?” He reminded Rachel. “In the bedroom of the house?”

“I recall, yes.” She replied somewhat playfully.

Connor avoided her gaze, turning his head away slightly. “Would..." His voice caught in his throat as he tried to voice his honest feelings. “Would...it be too much to ask if you did the same?”

Rachel seemed taken aback by his request, but all Connor could see in her eyes when he looked back at her was pure concern. “Are you sure?” She asked him, her brows knitted together.

Connor nodded timidly. “Y-yes.” He stammered out. “It’s just that...hearing you say how much you trust me when I had control over you made me think that...perhaps I can move past my fears if I trust you to have control over me.” He felt so shameful. “I-I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t trust you.”

Rachel nodded, taking in his request. “I see your logic.” She agreed, detaching her hand from his and cupping his other cheek with it so she was forcing him to look at her. “But...are you sure you’re ready? I’d be glad to, don’t get me wrong. But...I don’t wanna push you if you’re not ready. We don’t have to do it right away, we can take as long as you need to.”

Connor wasn’t sure how to answer her. He did want to, he really did. There was no one else he could trust to do it. But he did feel an apprehension to the thought. A certain prickly and paralyzing feeling was forming in his abdomen at the thought of relinquishing control. “I..." He struggled to answer her, but she then interfaced with him, then, and Connor felt much more secure and safe. Much less anxious.

Rachel then shook her head as she leaned against him with a sigh. “You’re not ready, yet.” She decided. “I can tell. I can feel it. But I want you to be able to tell me. I want you to be able to tell me no.”

Yes

No

Connor knew she meant that. There was nothing but patience and understanding that he could feel on her end. All she really cared about was his safety and wellbeing and she would never dare compromise that. “You’re right.” He admitted, feeling much more confident in himself. “I’m...not ready.”

Rachel - Lover ^ Rachel let out a sigh and let go of Connor, leaning into his chest. “Good.” Was all she said in response. “You’re allowed not to be. It’s okay not to be. Whenever you do feel ready, I will be. But you get to decide when that is, got it?”

Connor wrapped his arms around Rachel with a relaxed sigh. “Got it.”

For a while, the pair just stayed there in each other’s arms, taking complete comfort in each other. Connor couldn’t imagine having this level of complete security and comfort with anyone else. Indeed, Rachel was his home. His rock. His safe place. And she made sure he knew that, no matter how many times she would have to remind him.

After a good while, Rachel separated from Connor with an exhausted groan. “I am pretty beat, though.” She said with a good long stretch, the clear sounds of her back cracking making Connor want to cringe out of sympathy for her. “How about we just spend the rest of the day relaxing on the couch, hm? Maybe watch a movie or two?”

Connor smiled, getting up from the table and following her to the television. “Sure.” He replied eagerly. “What did you have in mind?”

“A movie I really liked as a kid that I think you will.” Rachel explained vaguely before she turned around and pointed at him. “But again, you’re not allowed to look up anything about it! It ruins the fun!”

Connor followed her and sat down next to her, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “I would never.” He teased her. “I’d hate to be unpleasant.”

“You big squish.” Rachel cooed affectionately at him, already getting in position with the remote in her hand. “It’s called Wall-E. It’s an animated movie from when I was a kid about two robots falling in love in a post-apocalyptic Earth where trash has sort of accumulated, leaving the planet uninhabitable.” She then flashed him an excited grin that Connor couldn’t help but adore. “I think you’ll really like it.”

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

Next Chapter

[vmheadquarters]

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-Eight of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @his-beautiful-girl​​​. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.29 from @louzeyre​ - tag, you’re it!

_____________________________________________________________

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT by @his-beautiful-girl​

Logan’s brows furrowed, lips turning downward, “Just how the hell did Van of all people become a publisher? Just last year he was still principal of Neptune High.” 

It was Veronica’s turn to grab her phone and do some googling. “It says here that he formed the company ‘Trident Publishing’ three months ago. My guess is that Ruby’s book would have been his first, but with as explosive as it would have been…” 

“Van would have ended up a very rich man.” Logan finished for her. “I can’t speak to his personal life, but he wasn’t above taking bribes for school, Sugarpuss.” His mind drifted back to a conversation after he and Weevil had dismantled Mr. Daniel’s car and then re-assembled it around the flagpole. How a pair of Aaron’s boots had made sure that Weevil was unexpelled. 

She nodded. “I knew he did it for money for Neptune High but I never got the impression that he was trying to gain anything personal from it. Well, other than the time he set it up so I would discover that Moorehead was Trina’s biological father. But that was to oust Moorehead so he could become principal. Not really any financial gain there.” 

Logan rose from the couch, walked to Veronica and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the crown of her head. “Something is really bothering me, Vee. How does she know about Shelly’s party? Book you calls Duncan out for rape.” His voice turned tender, dropping low. “That’s not a detail that you could get from a source, baby.” 

“I don’t know.” Veronica’s voice came out fragile, and he tightened his arms around her protectively. Rested his cheek on top of her head and rocked them slightly. “I only told you and- I- I admitted it one time during the therapy we had to take in school at Stanford. The only other person who knows is Duncan himself, and he would never admit to it being what it is.” 

She turned in his arms and he cupped the back of her head with one hand while running the other up and down along her spine, letting her hide against him. Felt her drawing deep breaths in and out and centering herself again while he continued to offer her love and comfort. Logan smiled against her hair when she stood straighter and drew in a deep breath. It’s true that they differed from when they were in high school and in college. They had gotten their shit together and learned communication was the key. But some things remained the same, and he was glad for that. His girl was still strong and determined. He knew if anyone could solve this, it would be Veronica. He was there for the assist. 

Logan pressed another kiss on the crown of her head before she pulled back slightly, face tilted upward, allowing him to brush his lips across hers tenderly before she murmured. “After this is over, we should go on vacation. Someplace warm and sunny and with no murder, please.” 

He nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.” 

They stayed quiet, holding each other for a few long moments before the reality of the situation broke through their peace. 

“So I think the question we need to ask ourselves is whether the focus of this book is on exposing Neptune, or whether it’s a book on exposing the Kanes.” Logan finally allowed himself to break the silence. “I know there is a lot… okay, most of the focus is on us, but what if we’re just the players that are being moved around to tell the story? Especially given that we had such close ties to the Kanes or to the events meant to expose the Kanes.” 

Veronica’s eyes narrowed, and her teeth sank into her bottom lip. “You could be right. Maybe we’re the red herrings. It’s about exposing the Kanes without just writing a direct book about them. That still doesn’t explain so much of the information that this source and/or Ruby has though.” 

“Also, this ‘Jen’ person is still bothering me. I know we can’t find any clue she exists, and she wasn’t a roommate of Mac’s but I feel like she represents someone. This might be the one person Ruby used a pseudonym for.” Veronica stepped away from him and paced in front of the enormous windows in Dick’s living room, looking out into the ocean. “Logan, I want to get into Ruby’s apartment to see if I can find anything.” 

He nodded; this request not surprising in the least. “Van first? Then Ruby’s? Then how about we pick up dinner and eat at your dad’s tonight? I’m missing my other favorite girl and you could use some Pony snuggles of your own.” 

Logan’s heart jumped as her face lit up at the mention of their dog, and he knew it was the right call. Now they just had to get around town, unnoticed by the paparazzi. 

*** 

An hour later, Logan and Veronica stood on the front porch of a nice, but modest residence. He rapped on the door sharply three times and they waited. He always found it interesting the way they stood when working on a case together. At any other time, they would hold hands or his arm would be around her shoulder and hers around his waist; however, in situations like this they stood together with their sides barely touching, both drawn to their full height. Both aware of the other and yet wanting to radiate that they were each dangerous on their own to whoever they were about to crush. 

Logan was about to rap on the door again when sounds within indicated that the first knocks were being acknowledged. Locks clicked and then the door itself swung open, revealing a haggard-looking Van Clemmons. “Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls. I wondered when you would show up. Come in, please.” 

“Well, you said that life had gotten boring without me.” The words dropped wryly from her mouth and the corner of Logan’s mouth twitched in response. 

“Life without you is always boring, Bobcat.” He cast an adoring look at her before turning his attention back at the man waiting in the doorway. 

Mr. Clemmons stepped back and gestured with his hand for the couple to enter. Placing his hand on the small of her back lightly, Logan let Veronica go first and then followed. Not that he felt Clemmons was a threat, he just felt better having her back protected. 

The living room was to the right of the entryway, and Clemmons indicated they should go there. “Please, take a seat and make yourselves comfortable. Can I get either of you something to drink?” 

Both shook their heads, taking a seat on the couch, before Logan smirked. “Are you getting the sense of what it felt like to be on the other side of that desk of yours, Van?” 

“Mr. Echolls, I seem to remember you being on the other side of that desk more than a few times.” Van’s voice came out dry but heavy, tired beyond his years. 

Veronica snorted, very unladylike, which made Logan grin. “Yeah, and how often were there actual consequences for any of those incidents? Just how much money did you make for the school? More importantly, how much of that money made it to your pocket rather than the schools?” 

Clemmons held up his hands placatingly and sighed. “I know what you must think but the only time I ever did anything for my benefit was when I used you to expose Principal Moorehead. I admit to taking money in return for punishments not happening, but all of that money went to Neptune High in one way or another. I made sure the students had the best that I could give them in my years as principal.” 

“Why did you retire? Why suddenly go into publishing? Not your typical career move and you don’t have the background for it. It also begs the question of the money issue. Where is the money coming from to start the business?” Veronica fired off the questions one after the other, and Logan tried to tell himself that being turned on right now was not the appropriate response. 

Van dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing it hard, and muttered. “I have a silent partner who put up the money after they heard the pitch for the book.” 

Logan leaned forward. “What was the pitch for the book exactly? Because it isn’t about some murder mystery, even if that is what it’s trying to pass itself off as. So why don’t you just tell us the truth. Someone is already dead. I wasn’t her fan, but I never would have wished Ruby dead, and I don’t think you did either. But you both got yourself mixed up into something deep. You know, the only person who has a chance at figuring this out is Veronica, so let her, Clemmons.” 

The silence that took over the room felt heavy and oppressive. Minutes ticked on and on and he wondered if they would get the information they were after or not. After an interminable amount of time, the older man nodded in agreement, letting out a loud sigh. “Yes, maybe you are the only ones I can trust with this.” 

Logan started when Veronica’s hand slipped into his, but was more than happy to thread his fingers through hers. It felt like they might finally get somewhere with this. Finally, get some answers that could make things make sense. Nothing could have prepared him for what came next. 

“Della- I’m sorry, Ruby came to me with the idea she had for a book. Claimed she had been doing research for the past year and wanted to write a book about a powerful family that had their claws in everything. A family that rolled around in the dirt and was covered in mud, though nobody could see it. She also claimed that members of this family had hurt people badly, and she wanted to right some wrongs and give those that they had hurt justice. She was talking about the Kanes and I should have known better--” 

Clemmons scrubbed over his face again, and when he looked up, his gaze focused on Veronica. “But I knew she was right. I knew a lot more than I could ever tell. I listened to the stories during those years at Neptune High, and I even did some of my research. I may not know all the stories exactly, but I know that the Kanes are responsible for so many things behind the scenes in this town. When she told me of the way she wanted to write the book without coming right out and accusing them I thought it would be okay. I went to Casey Gant and floated a semblance of the idea around to see if I might get him interested, but he turned it down. Then I got a surprising phone call from someone willing to not only put up the money to publish the book, but wanted me to be the face of the publisher. I let greed take over my thinking.” 

Van’s head dropped into his hands again, and Logan couldn’t decide whether or not to feel sorry for him. Veronica vibrated next to him, like she would explode if they didn’t find out who this mysterious person is and within the next minute. 

“Who?” The question was more a demand and came out sharp on her tongue. “Who is it?” 

“Troy Vandegraff,” Clemmons muttered into his hands. 

“Well, fuck me sideways. I did not expect that.” Logan breathed out, wide-eyed while turning to stare at Veronica, who looked just as taken aback. 

“Who was Ruby’s source, Clemmons? You must know. She couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.” The words came sharp and to others may sound bitter, but Logan knew the truth. That hardness Veronica projected was covering the hurt that she felt over Ruby’s death. Solving this case was the only way she knew how to help find some closure in this. He squeezed her hand gently in support. 

“I was, or at least I was one of them.” A familiar voice jerked their heads up and their attention to the hallway where a pale, thin figure stepped out of the shadows. 

Logan felt his gut churning, blood getting hot. He pulled Veronica closer to him protectively. “Lianne Mars.” He spit out the name like a curse. 

[kuchee]

happy zutaraang valentines @cruria​!! ❤️💛💙 I hope you enjoy this post-canon, slice of life snippet🙂

Zuko takes a brief glance around the room at the numerous groups of people huddled around the communal fire before shifting closer to Aang. Not surprisingly, there isn’t much to do holed up in the Southern Water Tribe in the middle of winter – at least, for those unused to sub-freezing temperatures – especially when you’re approaching the third evening of festivals and meetings.

Even considering that, Aang seems particularly preoccupied, uncharacteristically sitting in a corner and bothering no one. Not even Momo’s inquisitive purrs on his shoulder are able to distract him. 

Zuko cranes his neck. “What are you doing?” he hisses, not wanting to draw the curiosity of anyone surrounding them. People here are much more relaxed around royalty than anyone ever is back in the Fire Nation, but Zuko still manages to draw his share of attention. On the far side of the great room, through the dancing embers of the fire in the middle, he can see Chief Hakoda and his family in a loose circle. Sokka says something with a sceptical expression, which makes Hakoda throw his head back in laughter, ruffling Katara’s hair next to him. Zuko hides a smile by aiming it at the ground. It’s odd that Aang isn’t sitting with them.

“Braiding,” Aang says, belatedly. He sticks his tongue out in frustration, eyes almost bulging to discern something in his lap in the dim light. His hands are working in sharp, repetitive movements. 

“What is that?” 

In response, Aang presents the palm of his hand, a thick strip of elaborately woven threads in the middle of it. “Hemp fibre,” he mutters, picking up another thread from a pouch next to him, before hanging it between his teeth to measure, a little cross-eyed. “From the Earth Kingdom, I got it from that agricultural village we went to last month.” He twists the stiff threads with quick precision. 

“You’re making a bracelet,” Zuko says. Watching Aang’s technique jogs his memory. “...Like the monks’ lucky bands you told me about.” 

Aang glances up with a grin, brief but dazzling. “Yeah. You remembered.” He hands the item to Zuko for inspection. Zuko takes it carefully, trying not to tangle the loose ends. He holds it up to the firelight. It’s impressive – he can spot several types of knots and twists with no clue of how they could be combined so elegantly. 

“Gran-Gran offered me seal-gut string which is smoother, but I don’t think the monks would have liked that.” 

Zuko laughs and hands it back. “For Katara?” He can guess easily enough from the sheepish way Aang looks at him, not to mention the rapt attention he gives the task. That’s why they aren’t sitting together. 

“Yeah. So it’s not really for luck, I guess, it’s just– a gift.”  

Zuko nods and continues observing Aang braid the threads in silence. 

The scraps of conversation around the circle merge into one hazy murmur as he watches. Zuko relishes the peace and quiet, the opportunity to simply watch. It’s a peculiar thing to observe an Air Nomad tradition, just as it’s peculiar to be invited to the Southern Water Tribe, and to be there willingly in the depth of winter. The strangest parts of his new life as Fire Lord are in the little details, not the big responsibilities. 

Aang scrunches up his eyebrows and curses lowly, undoing a knot he just made. Zuko smirks to himself. When he thinks of Aang in action, it’s the sheer prowess of the Avatar’s fighting skill that crosses his mind; or alternatively, his skill of mediating. He never really gave thought to Aang’s hobbies, though watching him now, it seems to entail the same eerie patience that Zuko finds equal parts frustrating and inspiring.

Zuko thinks he’s the opposite. Uncle would probably say he hasn’t had the privilege to think about mundane arts and crafts in years, but Zuko doesn’t think that’s true – he’s just not that kind of guy.

He remembers he used to like fire-writing when he was a kid, though he was never any good at it. The tsungi horn, too, was something he reluctantly came to enjoy, once he stopped having tantrums over being forced to learn it. 

Anything so frivolous disappeared forever with his banishment.  

Aang’s eyes reflect the low firelight as they flit across the threads.

“How long is it gonna take you?” Zuko asks, if only to distract himself from the sneaking ache that seeps into him, watching Aang in focus. How does someone go through all that he has – all they both have – and still get excited about making trinkets? 

“Pretty long... I’ve been working on it at almost every gathering this week,” Aang says. He adds meekly, “it’s a complex braid, but I want her to have the prettiest one so…” He laughs nervously, his expression morphing quickly as he thinks of something to change the subject. “Wait – let me show you something – hold this for a minute.” 

Zuko holds on to the bracelet again while Aang digs around in the pouch. It’s ludicrously simple and plain compared to the kind of jewellery he’s grown up around – everything here is. He imagines it tied around Katara’s skinny wrist; how suitable it would be. He imagines tying it around her wrist himself, a thought so abrupt and unjustified that he blames it on all the ceremonial hand-clasping they’ve been doing for the past few weeks – as pioneers of the new, restorative relationship between their homelands. Zuko had promised to see it done before the anniversary of the end of the war, gravely underestimating how many lengthy community discussions and presentations it would take. That’s why he’s here, six months later. He can’t say he minds. 

“This,” Aang says, carefully unspooling another thread, so delicate that Zuko’s eyes can only make out the thin lines when they catch the light of a wayward flame, “I got this from Toph– well, I got her to make it.”

Zuko might have judged prematurely about the plainness. It’s silver – probably pure silver, like the embroidery on the expensive robes worn in court parties. Glinting like sunlight trapped by the ocean. Zuko finds it hard to believe there’s even a trace of impurity in that, marvelling as ever at Toph’s abilities. “That’s gonna be the finishing touch,” Aang says.

Zuko nods approvingly. He wonders idly how Mai would have reacted to something like that. “It’s a really nice gift for your girlfriend.” 

Aang recoils slowly, shaking his head. “What–no. It’s not really for that, it’s just a nice thing to do. I mean, it’s special, obviously, but that’s not because we’re dating – I think we are, anyway – but that wouldn’t make sense since I’m making—” he stops short, “Uh.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Aang says, his voice rising an octave. He looks away from Zuko and straightens his posture, staring into the distance as if something foreboding just dawned on him. “Nevermind.” He scratches the back of his head before returning to Zuko with a strained smile.  

Zuko frowns. “Sure, okay. Whatever.” He doesn’t bother to even pretend to know what goes on in Aang’s head. “Do you want to go get something to eat?” 

_____

He finds the bracelet amongst his belongings weeks later, identical to the one he had found Aang braiding except for the line of spun gold weaving into each pattern. He’s a few hours away from the dock in the South Pole already. The unostentatious homeliness of the place is already vanishing dismally quickly, and with each minute, the severity and spectacle of the Fire Nation court looms closer. He smiles and puts it on. 

[somekindoftuber]

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 6)

Note: The city where Shiro and Keith live is called Springdale. I’d pictured both of these towns being in the Carolinas. Again, there are tense changes everywhere (sorry) but I plan to fix them later.

Thank you for all the great feedback!!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

.

Lance woke up surprisingly early on Saturday. Today they were headed to the fair. He brewed coffee and made a tentative battle plan for the day: walk around, see stalls, a few rides, some games, lunch, maybe renting a scooter to drive up to lookout hill to watch the sunset. It was the perfect opportunity for Lance to stop dancing around the issue and just tell Keith he’s in to him already.

Pidge pokes fun at him through breakfast as Lance makes a group text thread with everyone. They agree to meet up at the south entrance of the fairgrounds at 10:30.

Lance ends up making them late by spending too much time picking out his clothes. Keith and Shiro are both sporting a little pink on their noses and cheekbones from the sun on the beach the day before, but they’re all smiles as they pay for their wrist bands and head into the fair. It’s a typical American county fair ordeal, with rickety rented rides, badly rigged carnival games, and endless booths of cheap nick-nacks and fried foods. But there was always something about the Harborville fair that set it apart. There was an energy here, like the last bang of summer before cool autumn weather swept down the coast.

They buy tokens and move as a group at first, taking a lap around the fair before splitting up. Pidge and Hunk stick together as always, Allura drags Shiro off at a rather brisk pace, and that left Lance and Keith.

“Anything you wanna do?” Lance asks him.

Keith shrugs and smiles. “Anything’s good.”

They walk around for a while, stopping at booths here and there. They run into other members of their group from time to time, and Lance uses his phone to film bits of a vlog for later editing, catching Shiro and Keith in a few bits (“I’m here with my good friends Shiro and Keith! Say hi guys!”). Lance buys an inaugural funnel cake to split with Keith before hitting the prize games. Keith rolls his eyes as Lance goes for the ring toss, a game he swears up and down he’s mastered despite it being horribly rigged.

“Just you watch,” Lance tells Keith as he lines up a ring. “I’m gonna win you the biggest stuffed animal they have, and then you’ll understand my prowess.”

He swears Keith’s cheeks go red as he smiles. “Well, have fun. I’m gonna grab a soda.”

Lance is half disappointed and half relieved that Keith is no longer watching. So of course, when the guy he’s trying to impress leaves, Lance lands all three rings on a pole. He’s carefully eyeing the selection of stuffed prizes when Shiro appears at his left, seemingly out of thin air.

“You know,” he leans in a speaks close to Lance’s ear. “Hippos are Keith’s favorite animal.”

Lance turns to look up at him, confused, before Shiro gives him a knowing smile and walks away. Hippos? Okay, weird, but also kind of cute. When Lance re-examines the prizes, he spots a large pastel blue hippo near the back, with big button eyes, exaggerated stitching, and a white bow around its neck.

“That one,” he tells the game attendant, pointing.

Keith comes trotting back with a soda in each hand a few minutes later. He stops short when Lance comes up to him with the prize hippo in his arms, easily the size of a dog. Keith’s eyes go wide.

“Told you I’d win,” Lance beams, then holds out the stuffed animal. “Here you go.”

There’s an awkward shuffle as Lance takes the sodas so Keith can take the hippo, and Lance absolutely notices how Keith hugs it to his chest.

“Thanks,” Keith tells him, and his cheeks are pink in a way that has nothing to do with his sunburn.

Keith keeps holding the stuffed animal as they walk around, earning him a few stares. Lance has to admit he looks adorable - all sharp and intense, holding a giant fluffy toy like it’s precious treasure. They find the Racho Alegre food truck and Lance buys enough food for five people, setting the trays of empanadas, pork tamales, fried yucca fruit, papas rellenas and fried green plantains. He films a little, too, Keith protesting with a “don’t film me eating!” Lance passes Keith a mate soda and instructs him on how to properly enjoy Cuban food, and is pleased when Keith seems to enjoy all of it.

He might like the guy, a lot, but if Keith had ended up hating the food he grew up with? It might have been a deal breaker.

They chat at the picnic table for a good half hour as they digested, then walk around some more, Lance filming on his phone here and there. He spots the scooter rental place nearby, and eagerly points at it. But when they get closer, he frowns.

“Aw man,” Lance bemoans. “I was thinking it’d be cool to drive up to the hill to watch the air show, but all the scooters are rented out.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “They’re not? There’s a whole bunch lined up.”

Lance shrugs. “Yeah, but those are the 50cc engine ones. You need a motorcycle license for those.”

“Yeah?” Keith looks unruffled. “I have one.”

Lance hears a record scratch in his brain. “You do?”

With a chuckle, Keith motions him towards the rental desk. “Who do you think test drives the bikes when Shiro’s done with them?”

Lance held the hippo, which he’d dubbed Blue, while Keith filled out paperwork, showing his motorcycle ID and insurance card. Lance caught a glimpse of it, and cooed.

“Aww, short hair!” He smiled at the photo of a younger Keith, scowling at the camera, and noticed two things: first, Keith didn’t have a middle name, and second, there were little tufts of what might be considered a mullet sticking out from behind his neck.

Keith shoved his ID back into his wallet. “Is your photo any better?”

“Actually,” Lance pulled his wallet from his back pocket and produced his driver’s license. “It is.”

Lance was proud of that picture - he was one of the only people he knew that actually took good ID photos. It was like a superpower. Keith was staring at his ID, his eyebrows raised.

“Leandro Sebastian McClain?” He asked.

“Uh.” Lance’s face flushed hot. “Old family name. Lance is kind of a nickname.”

Keith’s smile as he handed the ID back was magical. “Cool.”

Helmets secured, Lance climbed on the back of the dinged-up rental bike behind Keith as he started up the engine, giving him quick directions to the hill that overlooked the bay. Then, with Blue shoved between them, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s middle. They took off, and Lance felt a surge of adrenaline as they rode. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d been on a real motorcycle, and it was as scary as it was exhilarating. It was also cold, even the warmth of the sun unable compete with the wind that whipped past them. Lance hugged Keith tighter, wishing there wasn’t a stuffed animal between them.

It took a good ten minutes to drive up to the hill, and by the time they arrived, the wind had all but chilled Lance to the bone. The weather was beautiful that day, but it was a different story when you were going 45 miles an hour. His t-shirt and loose button up had done nothing to protect him, and as they reached the hill and stepped off the bike and took off their helmets, Lance set Blue on the bike seat and rubbed at his frozen, goosebump covered arms.

“You okay?” Keith asked.

“Yeah,” Lance laughed a little. “Just kinda cold. Wind’s kinda brutal at that speed.”

Keith blinked at him. “Oh.” Then, like they were in a movie, he removed his leather jacket and deftly swung it around Lance’s shoulders, patting it against his arms. “There, that better?”

Lance willed himself not to melt, because holy shit. That was the most suave thing he’d ever seen. Keith was one seriously smooth bastard. He caught of whiff of the scent coming off the warm leather and blushed hard. It smelled so good.

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, letting his fingers grip the edge of the jacket and pull it close.

They sat on a patch of grass nearby just as the air show was beginning. Keith watched with rapt attention as the jets performed aerial acrobatics, leaving bright trails of colored smoke that twisted through the sky. When it was over, Keith sighed beside him.

“I wanted to be a pilot,” he said, his gaze fixed on the sky where the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon.

Lance bumped his shoulder. “You still can be,” he said. “A pilot’s license can’t be that hard to get.”

Keith looked at the ground, shaking his head with a wry smile. “No, I mean… I wanted to be a fighter pilot. In the navy, or the air force.” He picked at a blade of grass. “But I wasn’t exactly cut out for it.”

“What do you mean?” Lance asked carefully.

Keith shrugged and leaned back on his hands. “I’m a high school dropout with a juvenile record,” he explained. “I’ve gotten my shit straightened out since then, but… that stuff sticks.”

Lance frowned. He was starting to realize just how little he knew about Keith - they talked a lot, but it was all superficial information. He didn’t know anything about Keith’s past, or his ambitions.

“It’s fine,” Keith said, interrupting Lance’s train of thought. “I can’t really complain about my life. I’ve got Shiro, I like working on bikes, and I enjoy my job. I’ve got it pretty good.”

Lance was glad to hear that, but it made him frown for a different reason. “Sounds like you’ve got it figured out. I have no idea what I’m gonna do.”

Keith hummed in questioning, and Lance let go of where he was clutching the jacket to wave his hand. “I’ve just been sort of… coasting for the last two years. I have no idea what I’m doing.” he chewed his lip. “YouTube is fun and all, but my dad keeps asking me what my career plans are, and I have no clue. I can’t just work cafe jobs forever, and Pidge is probably leaving after she graduates in a few months. I don’t even know where I’m gonna end up living.” He rubbed at his eyes.

Keith was quiet for a long time. “What about music?” he offered. Lance shrugged.

“Dunno if I want to go down that road,” he answered. “Being a musician is really unpredictable, unreliable. I doubt I could swing it.”

If Lance wasn’t spiraling into a pity-party, he would have appreciated how adorable Keith’s little pout was. “Well,” Keith offered. “What about teaching music?”

Lance blinked owlishly at him. “Say what?”

“I mean,” Keith started fidgeting. “You’ve said before that you like working with kids, and you play like four instruments, and you can read music…” He looked at Lance. “Why not combine them?”

Lance heard a record scratch for the second time that day. Holy crap. Holy crap. He’d never even considered it, but a career as a music teacher? That sounded… okay. That sounded good.

“I’d--” he swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken with excitement. “I’d probably need to get a degree in music education. But it’s doable.”

Keith beamed at him. “Yeah! Plus…” His face went pink as he looked to the side. “I was thinking, um. Since Pidge will be leaving and all, and there’s a good school in Springdale, you could..” Keith bit at his lower lip. “You could move there. With m-- with us.”

Lance inhaled softly as he looked at Keith. The sun had turned golden, lighting his face and making him glow, and it took Lance’s breath away.

“Also,” Keith put his hand over Lance’s where it rested on the grass. His fingers were shaking. “I, uh.” His voice dropped, so quiet Lance could barely hear. “I really like you.”

Lance gasped. Keith’s confession was so sincere and scared and it made his heart thump against his ribs, a wide smile cracking his face. Oh god, it was happening. He’d fantasized about this moment more times than he could count and it was happening, up on the hill overlooking the bay, with the beautiful sunset and Keith’s jacket around his shoulders. He had to be dreaming.

“I really like you,” Lance told him, turning his hand to thread their fingers together. “A lot.”

Keith huffed a little laugh and oh, he was so gorgeous, his hold on Lance’s hand tightening. Lance wants so badly to kiss him.

“Go out with me?” Lance asked.

Keith’s face fell, shock replacing the gentle smile he’d been wearing. “Oh. Um.”

It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped on Lance’s head as Keith pulled his hand away. Had he misread everything anyway? Was that too forward?

“I was thinking,” Keith began, his voice shaking a little. “That we could just… get to know each other more first?” He began clasping and unclasping his hands. “I’ve never really been in a relationship, plus we live five hours apart, and…” He pouted. “I mean, I didn’t even know your name wasn’t Lance until twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh.” Oh. Keith… had a point. Lance didn’t even know he had a motorcycle license until today. It was probably a good idea to get to know Keith better before attempting to dive headfirst into romance. Lance felt the relief like a physical weight. “You... wanna take it slow?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Lance could barely believe this was real. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against Keith’s and laughed softly.

“Sounds good to me.”

He thought this would be a good time to kiss, but they didn’t, eventually pulling apart to drive the bike back to the rental shop by the fairgrounds. Lance kept Keith’s jacket, slipping his arms through the sleeves and pressing his chest as close to Keith’s back as he could for the ride.

.

They made a trip to Lance’s car to stash Blue in the trunk for safe keeping, and as the sun was setting, grabbed a couple of beers and headed to the meeting point they’d arranged with everyone to watch the fireworks. Allura and Shiro had already spread a blanket out on the grass and were chatting. Keith and Lance took a seat near them, sitting close together.

Allura laughed, then Lance remembered his promise to Romelle. He whipped out his phone.

(+328) hey ‘melle you wanna come watch the fireworks at the fair??

(+396) Lance I just finished a 10 hour shift, that’s a hell no

He frowned, then discreetly aimed his camera at Allura and snapped a photo just as she was laughing, then sent it.

(+328) but cute girl looks lonely

There’s a long pause.

(+396) BE THERE IN 15

Pidge and Hunk eventually joined them, just as the grassy field was becoming crammed with people wanting the best seat for the fireworks. Beside Lance, Shiro looked a little odd, swaying slightly, his eyes dilated.

“Shiro?” Lance asked, keeping his voice down. “Are… are you high?”

Then Shiro laughed loud, threw his head back and really laughed. “Nah, no. Well, okay, yeah. Kinda.” He shrugs. “Fireworks kinda freak me out, after - y’know. So I took a xanax. They make me loopy as fuck, but I didn’t want to miss this.”

Lance blinked. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Shiro cuss before.

Romelle arrived twenty minutes later, just before the fireworks were scheduled to start. Lance did introductions and was pleased to see Romelle take a seat next to Allura, the two of them immediately striking up a conversation about coffee. Mission accomplished.

When the fireworks started, Lance leaned into Keith, feeling Keith return the motion. It was nice to not have to hide his affection anymore, or stay on guard. And if Lance watched the fireworks from the reflection in Keith’s eyes? Well, that was no one’s business but his.

After the fair, they retreat to Lance’s apartment to hang out and chat. Shiro is coming off his xanax and is having trouble staying awake, perking up only when Keith hands him a glass of water. Romelle and Allura trade social media handles and Lance feels a little smug about getting to play matchmaker for them. But mostly, he’s happy about Keith, who sits so close to him, who let Lance keep wearing his jacket.

It’s late and Allura decides they need to go, so everyone piles out of Lance’s apartment at once. Keith is the last one out, and Lance shyly lets the jacket slip off his shoulders and hands it back.

“Thanks,” He says. Keith grins.

“Anytime. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Once the door closes, Lance leans his head against it, grinning wide. He gets about sixty seconds of peace before Pidge and Hunk lay into him.

“Please,” Pidge groans, “Please tell me you two are dating now.”

“Nope,” Lance grins wolfishly at her as Pidge flings her body backwards onto the sofa with a howl of frustration. Hunk just smiles knowingly at him.

“But you’re going to. Right?”

Lance toes off his shoes and goes for his room. “Eventually.” From the couch, Pidge yells that she hates him.

.

The next morning they have an early brunch at Lance’s favorite diner on the marina, trading stories of their adventures at the fair. Pidge and Hunk show videos on their phones of the rides and games they played. Lance films again, and takes a group photo of all of them with their mimosas and fancy biscuits.

When Lance sees them off for their drive back to Springdale, Keith pulls him into hug. It’s soft and nice and Keith is so warm, Lance taking a deep breath and inhaling his smell. When they pull apart, Keith’s eyes are glittering.

Lance waves at the car as his three friends drive off, feeling happy and light.

.

Continued in part seven!