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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

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Seasons of PD: Season 1: Lonnie Rodiger (A Jay Halstead + Halstead! Sister Imagine)

Any quotes from season one that I put in here, credit obviously goes to the writers of PD. For the sake of my story, Ben Corson was killed when he was 11 so you would've been 10.

Trigger warning for mentions of rape and murder.

Jay's age: 27

Your age: 13

Jay walked up the steps of the front porch of his childhood home. With how crazy gangs have become the past few weeks, it was hard for him to get a good night's sleep without his phone going off, let alone keep track of what day it was. So, when he walked into the district this morning and learned that it was the day of what would've been Ben Corson's fourteenth birthday, he was crushed. He'd learned how to deal with the pain because it wasn't his best friend, it was the little brother of his ex-girlfriend. But, he was your best friend and, despite the saying that time heals all wounds, this day was still hard on you. It was a bit better than when the night he was killed rolled around each year, but it was hard nonetheless. It was also hard because Jay had to see his dad, even if it was just for a few minutes.

"Hey, Jay. How's work?" Pat Halstead asked as his youngest son entered the house. He was seated in the recliner in the living room, catching the highlights of the Blackhawks game from last night.

"Please don't do that," Jay stated.

"Do what?" Pat asked as he muted the tv.

"Pretend like you care. Pretend like you were there for me when I was Y/N's age because we both know you weren't. Remember that fight I got--"

"Jay? Are we going to the Corsons?" you asked, popping into the living room and stopping your dad and Jay's conversation in its tracks.

"Uh, yeah, c'mon let's go," Jay faltered.

You smiled, but it was more of just tipping one side of your lips upward. Today was a day that didn't warrant full smiles, only half-smiles and maybe a few quiet giggles like when you, Jay, Gail, Danny, and occasionally Allie if she was home, told stories about yours and Ben's escapades when you were younger...when Ben was alive.

"Thanks. I made a card, too." You turned to your dad before you left. "Bye, Dad. See you tonight."

"Bye, don't let her eat too much cake, Jay," your dad replied.

"And just for that, you're getting two pieces," Jay whispered in your ear as soon as you were out on the front porch. You rolled your eyes. "Hey, don't use that teenage sass with me, missy."

"Shut up," you joked. "It's just funny because every time Dad tells you not to do something, you do it anyway. It's probably because it's more fun when you're not allowed to do it."

"Okay, fine, I guess you're right about that."

"Ha, you're wrong about something!"

"Technically, I wasn't wrong. I just said you were right. But, do not tell Will."

"No promises."

You walked up the porch steps and Jay rapped on the door of the Corson's. You took a deep breath, trying to forget the many afternoons after school that you'd do the same exact thing, impatiently waiting for Ben to emerge so that you could both play in the backyard together until one of you got called inside for dinner, not without promises to play with each other the next day.

"You okay?" Jay asked, noticing your change in demeanor from joking with him to solemn in a matter of seconds.

You shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"Jay, Y/N," Gail Corson said as she answered the door after you and Jay had each given her a hug.

You walked inside to the kitchen table, where Ben's dad, Danny, was just sitting, staring into space. "Hey, Danny," Jay said.

"Hi, Jay. Y/N," he replied.

You never knew what to say when it came to this day, so you just handed Danny the envelope. "I, uh, I made a card for Ben," you said. "I don't know if you want to open it and read it or just put it somewhere, I just--"

"I'll open it, sweetheart," Gail interrupted and then took the card from her husband.

You had made the card out of light blue construction paper and had used a navy blue pen to write in your best cursive handwriting, Happy 14th birthday, Ben!, since blue was Ben's favorite color. You hadn't known what else to write, because, what else could you write? Tell him what he was missing out on with being gone and cry so hard while making the card that that marker smudged and bled through the other side of the construction paper? No, you couldn't do that. So, you had resorted to printing out some pictures of you and Ben (some with you, Ben, Jay, Allie, and the occasional one with Will) on computer paper, cut them out, and glued them inside the card. You wanted the card to be filled with happy, funny memories, not sad, sappy writing.

Gail let out a sad laugh. "When was this one taken?"

You looked at the picture she was pointing at. It was a selfie no doubt taken on Allie's old flip phone. In it, Jay and Allie were making funny faces and you and Ben were both smiling proudly because of the work you had done.

Jay was supposed to be babysitting you and Allie was supposed to be babysitting Ben since your parents and his parents had gone out for dinner together. You both should have been in bed in your own separate houses since there was a rule about Allie and Jay not hanging out alone together at home when there were no parents around, but you had lost count of how many times they had broken that rule.

It was around 11 at night when Ben had woken you up with two black, Crayola markers in his hand and had told you that both Jay and Allie were asleep on the couch. So, as quiet as you could, you both tip-toed into the living room, uncapped your markers, and got to work.

You knew they had seen the trouble you two had gotten into when you heard running. You and Ben giggled to yourselves as you heard the water running from the bathroom.

Soon enough, Jay flung your door open. And, you guys just couldn't help yourselves and started to laugh even harder.

Then, to get you back, Jay had tickled you and Allie tickled Ben. Once you had all calmed down, Allie suggested that the four of you take a picture. And, the next time Allie and Ben came over when Jay was babysitting, he was sure to hide all the markers on the top shelf of his bookshelf in his bedroom where there was no way either of you would be able to find them, let alone reach them.

"So, you and Allie did hang out together with no parental supervision," Danny chirped. "Don't do stupid things like your brother here, Y/N."

"Hey," Jay started to defend himself. "We learned our lesson...to hide the markers."

"Do you remember when he got in trouble for pushing some kid on the playground, Gail?" Danny asked his wife.

"Oh, how could I forget that! I got a call from the school saying that Ben was in trouble and I knew on my way over there that he'd be grounded from the tv for weeks. But, then in the car on the ride home, he explained to me that some kid in his grade was telling Y/N she couldn't play with them since she was a grade below them. Then, he pushed him down and said that, yes, she could play."

"You never told me the full story of that, Y/N. What's this kid's name?" Jay asked.

"Jay, it was years ago! Give the overprotective big brother thing a rest, would you?"

"Would you kids like some cake?" Gail asked.

You swallowed. Chocolate on chocolate cake, Ben's favorite and yours. But, now on your birthday, you'd switched to marble just so that you wouldn't be reminded of how Ben would never see you on your birthday again.

Jay noticed your discomfort and how you probably didn't want to start bawling your eyes out just because you didn't want Gail and Danny to start crying, as well. Even though they'd probably done enough crying today as it was.

"Actually, we gotta run. I have to get Y/N home because she has homework to do and I have some police business to tend to," Jay answered, sensing your discomfort as the good detective he was.

"At least let me give you a slice to go," Gail suggested.

Abruptly, Danny stood up and shoved his chair under the table, and left the kitchen. You heard a door slam.

You widened your eyes for a split second and then quickly regained your composure. His son was dead and his killer was still on the loose; he had every right to lash out.

"This is always a tough day for him," Gail started. "He won't eat it. I just end up throwing it out."

Jay nodded. "Small slice." He turned to look at you. "And an even bigger slice for her."

Gail went over to a cupboard and pulled out two Tupperware containers and then two plastic forks from a drawer. Then, she cut two slices of cake and placed them inside the containers, handing you the one that contained the bigger slice.

"Thank you," you said.

"Yes, thank you," Jay agreed. "And, if there's anything either you or Danny need, please don't hesitate to call me."

Gail nodded and the two of you left the Corson's house, cake in hand.

"Happy birthday, Ben," you whispered when you were walking down the steps.

Then, when you got back to your house, Jay pulled out his keys and unlocked his car. "Hop in," he told you.

"Where are we going?" you asked. "I thought you had some police stuff to do?"

"You know how on Mom's birthday, we always go to the cemetery and plant flowers?" he asked. You nodded. That day was always full of crying despite how old you got. Hell, even Jay cried. It was one of the only times that he'd let his guard down and let his emotions take over in full force. "Look in the backseat."

There, sitting on the backseat on a towel so that dirt wouldn't get everywhere, was a carton full of Morning Glories. "Blue. Ben's favorite color."

"Yeah," Jay said, the volume of his voice almost a whisper. "We just have to make a quick pitstop first and then we'll go and plant them." You both buckled up and then Jay actually realized that he might have overlooked something. "You don't actually have a ton of homework to get done, do you?"

"No, even if I did, I wouldn't be able to focus on it." You took a bite of the birthday cake. "Does it get any easier?"

"Does what get any easier?" he asked, while still keeping his eyes on the road, his cake forgotten.

"You know, losing people. I know it'll be hard every year for Mom because she was our mom--"

"First of all, she's still our mom, Y/N. No one is going to replace her. Second of all, continue."

"Sorry, I know you got more time with her and knew her better than I did--"

"Listen, if you ever want to hear stories about Mom or Mom and Dad or anything like that, just ask me. I know you were just a kid, hell you are still just a kid, but you can always ask me about her. Always, okay?"

You nodded, feeling grateful that you at least had one brother who looked out for you. Lord knows Will didn't since he was barely home. You didn't hold a grudge against him or anything like Jay did, you just felt like he wasn't there. And, you knew that him not being there had hurt Jay, so it was hard for the three of you to all act like siblings when you felt like you'd need to jump in and stop a fight between your brothers at any moment. If it was just you and Will or just you and Jay, your relationship was great. But, when it was the three of you together, you could practically feel the tension between Will and Jay.

"So, does it get easier? Losing friends I mean. Like, when their birthdays come around or the day they died, does your heart feel like it isn't being ripped out of your chest every second of those days?"

You assumed that Jay had lost friends when he was overseas, which was why he came home from his second tour a year earlier than scheduled. That and your mom was sick.

"That's how you're feeling with Ben? Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"I knew you had your own stuff going on with being a detective and all and I know you think you know who did it and I don't want you going to prison."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. My job will never be more important than you." It might be more important than Will, he thought to himself. But, you didn't need to know that piece of information. "But, to answer your question, no it doesn't get any easier. I mean it kinda does, because the pain of losing them isn't as fresh as the years go by, but the day still sucks no matter how many years it's been."

"Then how do you deal with? When those days of the year roll around?"

"Distract yourself to try and forget. But, pretend I didn't tell you that. Go talk to someone instead."

"That's not what you do though, is it? Talk to someone?"

"Do as I say, kid. Do as I say, not as I do."

"Will you ever stop calling me kid? I'm thirteen, Jay!"

"Nope, in my head you're still that four-year-old with the Build-A-Bear."

He pulled the car up to the curb. You looked up as Jay put it in the park. "Why are we here?"

"Just, stay in the car, okay? I'm gonna be right outside, but I just have something I need to take care of."

"Okay."

You knew this house. You weren't going to tell Jay, but you walked past it every day when going to school because it was shorter than taking the route your parents had taught you to take. Jay was the one who actually taught you to take this route three years ago when he had walked you to school after Ben's death. But, he told you never to take this way to or from school when you were alone. But, seeing as it was five minutes faster and you were a teenager and cherished every second of sleep, you didn't listen and took this way every single school day.

Jay got out of the car and leaned up against it. Then, he opened his container of chocolate on chocolate birthday cake and began to eat it. You knew what he was doing. It was the reason he had taken this route to school with you. He told you it was because it was faster, but you knew it was because he wanted to tail Lonnie Rodiger...which you assumed was the reason why he didn't want you walking here alone. Because a pedophile lived here. Well, technically he wasn't a pedophile yet because he wasn't convicted, but you had heard enough conversations between Jay, Gail, and Danny when they all thought you were out of earshot to know that Lonnie was the one who killed your childhood best friend.

You saw Lonnie peak out through the curtains of one of the windows. And, if it weren't for Jay's water bottle that was sitting in the cupholder that you quickly took a swig of, you would've choked on your bite of cake.

A patrol car pulled up across the street and a uniformed cop came out. It was the same kind of uniform that Jay had been wearing the night you ran over to the Corson's house when it became a crime scene. You quickly wiped the few tears away at the memory of that night. If Jay got arrested, you knew you'd have to go with him because you couldn't drive. And, you didn't want to be crying in the back of a cop car while Jay was trying to talk his way out of an arrest.

Jay resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, they called the cops! Of course, they did! They'd call the cops and arrest him for harassing a pedophile and a killer, but they wouldn't arrest Lonnie for being a pedophile and a killer.

"Can I see your driver's license?" the patrolman asked.

Jay lifted his shirt, revealing his badge and gun. Despite being off duty, he had it. He always had it when he came around the Rodiger house. If Lonnie struck first, then he'd have him on assaulting an officer...and have an excuse to kill the son of a bitch. It would be in self-defense after all. He feared serious bodily harm.

But, of course, that wasn't going to happen, not today anyway.

"Halstead. Intelligence," Jay answered.

"This is harassment!" Phil Rodiger yelled as marched outside and pointed at Jay, Lonnie right behind him.

"Just eating some birthday cake," Jay said, poking the cake with his plastic fork. "Today would've been a birthday."

You felt your lip begin to tremble.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you kept telling yourself.

But, it was no use. It was just those three words: would have been.

It would have been Ben's fourteenth birthday if he was still here and if he wasn't buried in the ground in the cemetery, a high collared shirt on to hide the strangulation marks that Lonnie gave him when he wrapped a rope around his neck and pulled, choking him to death.

If he were still here, he would've had a birthday party. It might have been small with only a few people. You might not even have been invited because you're in middle school and middle schoolers like to talk. And, maybe, if you had been invited, people would have said that he had a crush on you and teased him about it.

Maybe, the early stages of puberty would have hit Ben by now and he would have become what you deemed to be cute. Maybe, he would've had a crush on you and you would've had a crush on him if he was still around. But, he would forever be stuck in your head as your best friend, no romantic feelings whatsoever, since he only lived to be eleven years old.

"Arrest him!" Phil Rodiger yelled, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Get him out of here!"

This was it. Maybe the patrolman wouldn't notice you were in the car and you could sneak back home in a few minutes and call Erin, get her to talk to Voight about getting your brother out of lockup. (Yes, you had Erin's number because you needed questions answered that would make your dad and Jay uncomfortable. Even though Will was a doctor, there was no way you would ask him about girl stuff, even though you were pretty sure he had heard and seen it all in New York.)

"Sorry, pal," the patrolman said.

Okay, so you wouldn't be dragged into the back of a patrol car and also wouldn't have to help Jay beat a charge. Thank god your brother was a part of Chicago's famous Intelligence Unit.

You set your cake on the dashboard. You couldn't take it anymore. If Jay wasn't going to say it, you would.

Jay heard the passenger side door open and whipped his head around. "Y/N," he warned. "Get back in the car."

"He killed my best friend, Jay!" you yelled, tears running down your cheeks. "What do you want me to do? Sit in the car and watch him just get away with it?"

The patrolman's eyes grew wide. Seeing that made you realize what you had just said.

You just accused Lonnie of murder.

"Y/N!" Jay yelled. You looked up to see that he had thrown his cake on the ground. "Get back in the car!"

Okay, so Jay's scary when he's angry, noted.

You made your way around the car and into the passenger seat. Then, you just watched as Jay talked to the patrolman, trying to sort this all out.

You didn't mean to do it. It just came out.

You fucked up. Maybe you were going to be the one arrested this time. And, since you weren't a cop, there'd be no way to easily get out of those handcuffs.

You put your head in your hands and changed the radio station, trying your best to make sure you didn't hear the conversation between Jay and the patrolman.

Soon, the patrolman sped off. You were safe. But, Lonnie and Phil were still standing across the street, outside, watching Jay, watching you.

"Get outta here!" Phil yelled.

Jay was almost to the car when he turned around, rage painted on his freckled face. "Three years ago today, Lonnie! Three years! He would've been fourteen! Fourteen!"

"I'm gonna call my lawyer! I'm getting a restraining order!" Phil promised.

"Yeah? Well, I'm gonna give you a reason to need one someday! You and your sick-ass son!"

He slammed the door shut, but you didn't look at him, just kept your gaze on the world outside the passenger side. Jay turned the key and his car roared to life. You heard him sigh, but didn't say a word.

"Look, I'm sorry," he began as he started driving.

"So you get to confront him but when I try it's all get back in the car, Y/N?" you quoted his words from earlier using a mocking tone.

"Lonnie's fu- he's messed up in the head, okay? I don't want him to have any reason to come after you. We both know what he did to Ben and I wish we could nail him on that, but right now, with the evidence that there is, it just can't happen. I'm sorry, I just wanted to keep you safe. I couldn't live with myself if that psycho did anything to you."

"I guess you have a point."

"I always have a point."

Ten minutes later you pulled up to the cemetery. Jay grabbed the small bag of tools and you carried the flowers, not without being warned every thirty seconds not to tip them at all so that they didn't fall out. It was the same thing as when you'd plant them at your mom's grave: you'd always be the one to carry the flowers, but they'd always warn you to be careful with them and then say that you weren't carrying them next year...and then they'd forget they'd said that and the process would repeat itself.

"I'll dig up the first bit of dirt and then you can help me. The top part's always the hardest," Jay said once you had made it to Ben's grave and he started rummaging through the tools.

"Okay." You didn't know what else to say. You just stared at the headstone. You wished he'd just come back to as a ghost or spirit or something for a minute--literally just sixty seconds--so that he could tell you that Lonnie did it.

Twenty minutes later, you and Jay stood up and admired your work. There were flowers there already from the Corson family, but the blue gave even more color to the normally dismal place.

"I'm gonna go find a trash can," Jay said as he picked up the empty plastic pots that the flowers came in. "Give you some time alone."

You nodded, not knowing what to say. Even when Jay left you had no idea what to say. It had been three years, so you didn't feel like you needed to talk to Ben. After all, if he was in heaven, he was looking down on you and knew what was going on in your life, so there was no reason to tell him about it. And, he was a kid, so he had to have gone to heaven, right?

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

You heard thunder rumble from above, which drowned out the sound of your choked sobs. The grass beside you started to get wet from the drizzle that had just started, but by how many seconds there were between each clap of thunder, you knew a downpour was just a matter of minutes away.

So many things could have gone differently that night. If Ben had come over to your house to spend the night, he'd still be here. You knew you couldn't change anything. Hell, you didn't even talk about having a sleepover that night, that week, or even that weekend. And, the night he was murdered was a school night, so your dad wouldn't have let Ben spend the night anyway. There was nothing you could have done.

Despite how many years passed, you wondered if you wouldn't have fallen asleep so fast that night if you would have been able to hear screams and called 911 for help. Maybe he'd still be alive if you couldn't fall asleep that night. Maybe, if Jay was off-duty that day and if there was a Blackhawks game on that night, he would've come over and you would've insisted on staying up late and ended up falling asleep on the couch. But, because of Jay being very observant, maybe he would've seen something, heard something, or even just felt that something was very wrong and could've stopped it and arrested Lonnie before it ended tragically.

You felt something wrap around your arms and looked up to see that Jay was back. You felt goosebumps on your body and that's when you realized your hair was sopping wet and water was dripping down the side of your face and was soaking your jeans and shirt.

You heard the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the large umbrella that Jay usually stowed in his trunk and pulled Jay's jean jacket that he just laid over your shoulders tighter around yourself.

He picked up his tools and turned to you. "You ready? Can't have you getting sick."

"How long have I just been crouched here?" you asked. You knew your thoughts sometimes got the best of you and before you knew it, an hour could've passed when your mind was focused on one subject.

"Until I thought you were going to freeze to death and get sick. And, it's only been about fifteen minutes. I ran to the bathroom and then grabbed the umbrella out of the car. You ready?" he repeated.

You wiped your eyes, not knowing if it was dried tears or dried raindrops on your cheeks. "Uh, yeah."

Jay picked up the bag of tools and you walked back to the car, the umbrella being big enough for both of you to fit underneath.

Once in the car, you slipped off Jay's jean jacket and tried to hand it back to him. "No, at least wear it until we get home. Dad'll kill me if he sees that you're sopping wet and then he'll think that I just left you out in the rain."

"Brother of the year." And, despite the circumstances, both of you laughed.

***

Math homework is due tomorrow...why does math have letters anyway? I'm never gonna need this in life. Snap out of it, Y/N. You can focus on that later. Just focus on the walk home. You have to be careful now since you're walking by their house.

You tried to turn your attention to the world ahead of you, or more accurately, the road and houses in front of you. You needed to be on high alert since you were about to walk past the Rodiger house. And, they saw you now...hopefully, they hadn't filed a restraining order against you, too. As far as you knew, it was just Jay, but you didn't need to have Jay get you out of trouble today.

Your eyes darted across the street to the house, while you tried to make sure you didn't cast your glance there too long as to be suspicious. It was Jay's job to be suspicious while walking past this house. It was your job to get to and from school safely when walking past this house. You'd leave the detective/spying/surveillance stuff to Jay.

You tried to focus on the road straight ahead of you, but it was no use when you saw movement out of the left side of your peripheral vision.

You turned and gasped. They turned too, and now you were frozen in place.

He widened his creepy eyes and stared back at you, like a deer caught in the headlights, like a criminal caught in the act because right now, that's what you assumed he was.

You felt your breath catch in your throat, neither of you breaking eye contact.

Then, you took off running. No way in hell were you telling your dad what just happened. One time he caught you walking home this way and said if he found out that you walked to or from school this way again that you'd be grounded for an undisclosed amount of time.

No one needed to know that you had just seen Lonnie Rodiger with duct tape and rope, the two things everyone assumed he had used to kill Ben Corson. No one needed to know. Just shut your mouth and don't tell anyone and everything would be fine. You would be fine.

***

Jay was sitting across from Antonio at Molly's, slowly sipping on the bit of whiskey left in his glass. "You knew the family?" Antonio asked him.

"He's the younger brother of a girl I dated in high school. Was Y/N's best friend, too. And his parents, Danny and Gail, they came to my graduation from the academy." When my dad wouldn't because he hates all my life choices. Probably hates me, too, Jay wanted to add but stopped himself. "I still see 'em on what would be Ben's birthday. Y/N comes too and god, you know what she asked me this year, Antonio?" Antonio shook his head. "She asked me if their birthdays or the day they died gets easier when it rolls around every year. She's thirteen! She shouldn't have to remember his birthday. Ben should be alive and Y/N should be seeing him on his birthday. But now all she probably remembers on his birthday is seeing his lifeless body lying in the grass...that's probably what she remembers." He took another sip of whiskey.

"Wait, you're saying your little sister saw the body at the crime scene?" Antonio asked.

"Uh, yeah. Me and my partner were first on scene. And...I see a shoe. I push the reeds back because Gail used to have this huge garden with really nice grass, reeds, flowers, other things. And, now she doesn't because it reminds her too much of that night.

"But uh, anyway, I pushed those reeds back..." He swallowed and tried to keep the tears at bay. He couldn't cry. Not in front of his mentor; not in front of the detective who got him into Intelligence in the first place, even if it was only because he caught a bullet in the process of trying to help Gabby and everyone's favorite after-shift hangout spot, Molly's. "And there he is. I still see his face."

Antonio took a swig of his beer. "How'd your sister find him?"

"My dad told me later that she had heard and seen the sirens and went to wake him up and then they came over to see what was going on. She was only nine, hell, she even had her teddy bear with her when they came outside. She was small and easy to miss. Before anyone could stop her...she, uh, she ducked under the crime scene tape and she saw him. I will never forget how she screamed out Ben's name.

"Then, I ran over to her and tried to block him from view, but you know as well as I do, Antonio, that seeing a body like that, well the damage is already done. So, then I just took her home and my partner explained the situation to my sergeant so that I didn't get in trouble for just leaving a crime scene. I never told her about the rape, just that he was dead. She probably put the pieces together that he was raped since she's gotten older, but I didn't heave the heart to tell her."

Antonio nodded. If he was in the same position as Jay was and Gabby was in your position, he knew he'd do the same exact thing. "I remember his dad alibied him out," Antonio stated. "But, they never had anything on Lonnie. Nothing?"

"No," Jay scoffed. "They caught him jerkin' it outside an elementary school a week prior to finding Ben. They found fucking kiddie porn on his computer. A-And secret pictures that he'd taken of Ben."

"You gotta be kidding me."

"Nuh-uh. We all knew Lonnie did it. But, you know, his dad lied." Jay shrugged. "And, uh, they got a good lawyer for that sick of a bitch."

Jay took a sip of his whiskey, blinking back tears. Antonio sighed and looked at the young detective. "Hey, be careful. You hear me?"

"I know, I just--" Jay was cut off by his phone ringing. He looked at it. Why's Dad calling at 11 o'clock at night? Why is Dad calling me at all?

He declined the call.

"Who was that?" Antonio asked.

"Not important. Anyway, I'll be care--" His phone started ringing again. "Dammit," he muttered and then pressed the answer icon. "Yeah?"

"J-Jay?"

"Y/N? What are you still doing up? Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"I didn't want to tell you because you and Dad always tell me not to walk there by myself, but I saw him and he saw me and I thought I'd be fine but now I can't sleep and--"

"Whoa, whoa. Take a breath, okay?"

You took a deep, shaky breath as few tears slipped down your face. You tried not to think about your encounter with Lonnie earlier today, but as you tried to sleep and the darkness took over the world, you couldn't stop your thoughts from running rampant. What if he was going to use that duct tape and rope on you now because he had seen you? Kill all the witnesses so that there wouldn't be a trial and he wouldn't get convicted?

"Now, tell me again what happened," Jay said calmly, all his cop instincts taking over and talking to as if you were a victim for the time being. "This time slower."

"I took the way home from school that you taught me to take and tell me to never take alone--"

"Y/N," Jay wiped a hand over his face. "Me and Dad told you not to go that way by yourself."

"I know, but I saw Lonnie and he had supplies and he saw me. I thought it was fine but now I can't sleep and--"

"Y/N," Jay started again. "Slow. Down. You saw Lonnie?"

At the mention of that name, Antonio looked up.

"Yeah," you answered, trying to slow your rate of speaking. "He had- he had rope and duct tape. And- and he saw me. I'm scared. I'm so scared, Jay. What if he comes after me now?" You covered your mouth with your hand to stop your dad from hearing your sobs. You assumed he was sleeping, and if he wasn't you hoped he didn't notice that you were on the phone. All he had to do was pick it up and see line in use and then you'd be in trouble for walking that way.

"Y/N, listen to me. I'm not gonna let that happen. I'm gonna leave Molly's right now and then be over there. Are you in your room?"

"Yeah."

"Is Dad still up?" Jay asked.

"I-I don't know."

"Okay, just stay put and I'll be there as soon as I can. And, we can explain it to Dad together, alright?"

"Okay. You promise you'll be here soon?"

"I promise. I'm leaving Molly's right now."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna hang up now."

"Okay, bye Jay."

Jay ended the call and started putting on his jacket. "What was that all about?" Antonio asked.

"Y/N took the fastest route home from school today, which goes by the Rodiger place. She said she saw Lonnie and he had duct tape and rope with him. He saw her, Antonio."

"Shit." Antonio pulled out his wallet and threw a few bills on the table. "I got it. I'll be right behind you."

"Thanks, man."

***

Jay slowly turned the key in the lock and opened the door, Antonio following him. "Dad?" Jay asked.

"Jay?" he answered from the living room, sounding as if he had just woken up from falling asleep in front of the tv. "What are you doing here?"

"I can explain if you wanna go check on Y/N, Jay," Antonio suggested.

"Yeah, yeah that'd be great. Thanks, man."

You heard knocking at your door, causing you to draw in a deep breath. "Y/N? Open up, it's Jay."

You set Beary down--yes when you were scared you still liked to have your Build-A-Bear in your hand because it gave you comfort--and then stood up from your bed to open the door.

"Jay." You launched yourself into his arms before he could even comprehend what was happening. "I'm so scared. What if he comes after me?"

Jay wrapped his arms around you and ran his hand up and down your back, just like he had done a few years ago when he had brought you back home after you had seen Ben's lifeless body lying in the grass. "Shhh, shhh it's okay. You're okay." Now he was most definitely using the tone he used when talking to child victims.

"What if he- what if he comes after me though, Jay?" you asked, soaking his shirt with tears of fright.

"Hey," he pulled away. "Look at me." You looked up at your older brother. "I will not let that happen. Ever. You understand me?" You nodded. "Now, how about you pack a bag, and then you can stay at my place until this all blows over."

"Why?"

Jay sighed. "Just, please do it."

You pulled out a peach-colored duffle from your closet.

"I'll be right downstairs if you need me."

He walked downstairs to see your dad still sitting on the living room couch with Antonio sitting in the chair across from him. "I'm taking Y/N to my place for a few days until this whole thing gets sorted out," Jay announced.

"She was walking that way because you taught her how to take it!" Pat Halstead bellowed as he stood up off the couch and pointed an accusing finger at his youngest son. "If you had never walked that way when you took her to school, then we would never be in this position!"

"We?" Jay asked rhetorically. "I don't recall Y/N telling me that you were with her when she saw that sick son of bitch walking home with his weapons of choice! It's Y/N that's in this position! Not me, not you, not us, Y/N."

"She's my daughter!"

"Yeah, I gathered that," Jay scoffed. "At least you care about her...unlike how you weren't there for me and Will. Or, if my memory serves me correctly, it was when I was in my early teens when you stopped caring. So, I expect in the next two years that you'll stop taking good care of Y/N and stop showing up to her games, like you did for me and Will. Oh, and you'll start questioning her life choices, just like you did almost every damn day to both me and Will."

"It's not my fault that you made a stupid decision with your life and Will decided to leave and waste all his money and to do what? To go to Sudan and then to New York?"

"There you go again, same old same old. You want us to be here, but whenever we are, we just end up fighting."

"Okay, okay," Antonio butted in. "How about we all take a breath and then talk about what's gonna happen next."

Jay took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. Your dad sat back down on the couch and crossed his arms in front of him.

"Good," Antonio began. "Y/N give you anything else about what she saw upstairs other than what she told you over the phone?"

"No," Jay answered. "She just told me that she's really scared that Lonnie's gonna come after her. Noting more about what she saw."

"Jay?" you asked as you poked your head into the living room, duffle bag slung over your shoulder. "I'm ready."

You said goodbye to your dad and then followed Jay to your car. He explained that Antonio was going to come to his apartment just for a little while so that they could discuss how they were going to proceed with the information you had given them. But, that you should go to sleep when you got to his apartment because it was a school night.

"Do I have to go to school tomorrow?" you whined as you set your bag down next to the couch...which would also be your bed until all this was cleared up.

"I know you're not going to get a lot of sleep, but yeah, as much as it sucks, you have to go to school tomorrow."

It was nearing 12:30 and you had to be up for school at 6:00 since school started before 7:30 in the morning. You'd be lucky if you managed five hours of sleep.

"Please, Jay," you begged. "My first two classes are just choir and gym, so I can miss those. And, I'm pretty sure if you called me in it'd count as an excused absence. Please?"

"Fine," Jay conceded. "But just because I think it's stupid how early school starts."

You heard a knock on the door. "Be right there, Antonio!" Jay said, trying to keep his yelling voice at somewhat of a normal level since people in the other apartments were sleeping.

"I'm gonna go grab a blanket," you told Jay.

You grabbed a blanket and threw it on the couch as Jay went to answer the door and let Antonio inside.

"Jay, I'm stealing one of your pillows," you told him as you entered his bedroom area.

"Actually, you can take my bed for tonight," he suggested.

You cocked an eyebrow at him. In all the nights you had spent at Jay's apartment in the past few years when your dad had to work late or went out, you had always slept on that couch. And, it was because it was actually comfortable. (Jay's reasoning was that he didn't want to get one of his nightmares that happened a handful of times per year and break his hand from hitting the coffee table in his sleep because he was thinking that it was an enemy because he thought he was back in Afghanistan. But, of course, you didn't know that.)

"It's just because I need to talk to Antonio and I don't need you having easy access to the conversation."

You nodded, tiredness overtaking you. "Alright." You yawned. "I'm going to bed. 'Night guys."

Jay and Antonio both said goodnight and then you walked into Jay's bedroom area and slid the sliding doors closed. During that time, the two detectives each took a seat at the kitchen table.

"We can put a patrol car out in front of Lonnie's house," Jay suggested.

"You know we can't do that," Antonio told him.

"Well, why not? You know he's gonna kill again!" Jay resisted the urge to slam his fist down on the table.

"You have no solid proof. I know you believe Y/N, and I do, too, but we don't have proof. If we had cam or pod footage, we might be able to do that. But, as far as we know, we don't have that. Nothing's been reported or called in. Hell, for all we know Lonnie's doing a DIY project."

"So get his credit card records and security footage from the store," Jay growled.

"You know as well as I do Halstead, that we can't do that without a warrant. And for a warrant, we're gonna need sufficient evidence. And, the word of your sister just isn't gonna cut it this time. Sorry, man."

Jay sighed and put his head in his hands, then looked back up at Antonio. "I just can't let him do it. I can't let him kill another kid."

"I know. Believe me, neither you nor me want that, but for now, we just need to wait until the right time. And you, need to get some sleep."

"I guess you're right. Maybe sleep would help me figure out how to solve this thing."

***

Jay had just dropped you off at school--he had called the school and excused your absences from your first two classes--and was walking out of a small coffee shop a few blocks away from the district when his phone rang.

"What do you got, Jin?" Jay asked. Benefits of working in Intelligence and having a tech guy for the unit: getting him to dig into things under the table.

"That Lonnie Rodiger credit card you wanted me to track," Jin started on the other end of the line, "Just got a hit from a toy store downtown."

"Text me the address."

A few seconds later, Jin had texted Jay the address and he jumped in his car and made his way into the heart of downtown Chicago.

Then, he sat in his car and stared at the store, waiting for the scrawny, creepy-ass pedophile slash murderer to make his way out of it.

When Lonnie walked out, Jay just stared at him. If he got made, so what? He was in his car. He could say he was doing surveillance for another case that he couldn't talk about right now because it was an open investigation. But, he wouldn't be able to blame surveillance of an ongoing investigation for strangling Lonnie to death, killing him the exact same way as he had killed Ben Corson three years ago.

Lonnie was carrying a bag full of what Jay assumed were toys. The toys, the rope, the duct tape, Lonnie was going to strike again. And, Jay had to act fast to ensure that another kid didn't get their life taken away just because this bastard had sick, twisted fantasies.

Jay was about to call Jin back, see what else he could pull up on him, anything that gave him an excuse to call Atwater and Burgess to arrest him. But, his phone rang.

"Go for Jay," he answered.

"Where you at?" Voight asked on the other end of the line. "I know you came in late because of your sister, but I need you now."

"I'm on my way in," he lied.

"Good. We're in Chinatown. I'll send you the address."

"Oh, Sarge?"

"Yes, Halstead?"

"Do you mind if I leave for a bit around 2:15ish? It's just, Y/N has a doctor's appointment and my dad's working and I don't want her taking the bus--"

"Jay," Voight interrupted, "Take your sister to her appointment. I'll just send the address of where we're gonna be if we aren't at the district. Just, keep your phone on."

"Thanks, Sarge."

Of course, that appointment was a lie; Jay just wanted to pick you up from school and then drop you off at his apartment while he went back to work so that you wouldn't be at home where Lonnie could find you. But, Jay had to push that out of his mind right now because he was on another case with his unit that needed solving, his side case on Lonnie Rodiger needed to be put on the backburner...at least for the next few hours.

***

"Lonnie Rodiger's credit card," Jin said as Jay entered the tech room.

"Yeah, I know, I'm working on a court order so I don't get my ass handed to me by Voight, I know," Jay replied.

"Okay...you deal with that. All I was gonna say was that another hit came up from his card at a Home Depot in Humboldt Park. He bought..." Jin clicked some keys on his computer until the list of things Lonnie purchased popped up. "A two-person tent, a kerosene lamp, and some bug spray. A rapist-murderer planning a camping trip? Not much you can get him on with just that."

"Any chance he purchased rope and duct tape?" Jay asked.

Jin scrolled through the list of items again. "Not that I see here. Why?"

"Not important. Thanks for the help, Jin."

Jay walked back into the bullpen, about to grab his jacket and head into the locker room when Voight emerged from his office at the same time. "Halstead, my office."

"I told you to let the Rodiger thing go months ago," Voight told Jay when the door was securely shut.

"I have...for the most part." I have...until my sister got involved and told me he bought duct tape and rope and now she's staying at my place so that I can protect her from that sick-ass son of a bitch.

"If you're not straight with me, I can't protect you."

"You? Protect me? I don't need protecting, Sarge, but thanks for the offer. I'll keep it in mind if I ever go off the rails and kill someone."

"Jay, listen to me! What the hell is going on with you? You got here later than usual today, which I know you said is because of your sister, but you look exhausted like you haven't slept in days. And don't think I didn't notice that you've been constantly checking your phone when we weren't out in the field."

Jay sighed. "I think Lonnie's gonna kill another kid."

"Jay, I know that kid's family was like your own. But, you gotta be careful. You've got eyes on you. And, it's not just me this time."

"Copy that." Then, Jay exited his sergeant's office, grabbed his jacket off his chair, and headed to the locker room. Damn, did he really want to go home after that conversation with his boss.

"You headin' to Molly's, Jay?" Adam asked as they grabbed their stuff from the locker room.

"Nah, man. I got some stuff I gotta take care of," Jay replied. "Maybe another night."

"If you say so."

***

You were sitting on the couch reading a book when you heard a knock at Jay's apartment door. "Y/N, it's Jay, open up."

You got up and unlocked the door, letting him into his own apartment. "Why didn't you just unlock it yourself? Or, did I get your only key?

"Nope, you got my spare. I have mine." He pulled his keyring out of the front pocket of his jeans and set it down on the counter. "Just didn't want to scare you is all."

"Thanks, greatly appreciated. What are you hiding behind your back? And what smells so good?" you asked, seeing as Jay hadn't moved his left hand from behind his back and was trying really hard to make sure you didn't see what was there. Even when he had walked inside the apartment from the hallway, he still somehow hid it behind his back and out of your view. And, the smell of greasy food was starting to waft around the apartment so you had a pretty good idea what he was hiding.

He pulled a takeout bag from behind his back. "I got us Arby's!"

"Really? Did you get me mozzarella sticks?" you asked trying to grab the bag from him, but he held it out of your reach.

Jay chuckled at your excitement. "Yes, I got you mozzarella sticks. Now, let me get this out of the bag and you can get the game set up?"

"Okay!" You sat on the couch and turned on the Blackhawks game that was going to start in five minutes. "It's ready!"

"Be right there!"

A minute later, Jay passed you a plate which contained an original roast beef and cheddar sandwich and of course, your precious mozzarella sticks and a few packs of Arby's and marinara sauce.

"Uh," Jay groaned as he lowered himself onto the couch.

"You're getting old," you laughed.

"I am not!" he protested.

"Yes, you are! Only old people sigh like that when they go to sit down!"

"Well, excuse me for having to chase psychos around the city for a living." You reached over and grabbed a few curly fries off his plate, hoping he was distracted enough by your old Jay comment that he didn't notice...he did. "Hey!"

"Oops." You squirted some Arby's sauce on your plate and dipped a curly fry in it. "Good." Jay just continued to stare at you. "Fine, here," you said as you handed him a mozzarella stick.

"You're not gonna offer me any marinara?"

You tossed him a pack. "Better?"

"Better." Both he and you turned your attention to the tv. "Remember, end of the second period, it's bedtime."

"Jay," you whined. "Please can I stay up and watch the entire game?"

"No, because I am not calling you in late tomorrow and getting to work later than usual because of it." Luckily today we didn't catch a case until around 10 o'clock this morning, so it didn't matter that I was late and tailing Lonnie anyway. "And, you're gonna be a grouch if you don't enough sleep."

"Jay! I am not grouchy!"

"Yes, Y/N, you are! Whoa, a fight!" And while your attention was quickly focused on the tv, Jay stole some of his curly fries back.

***

Jay walked into the district the next morning to be met with Erin and Alvin. "Did you guys catch the game last night?" he asked them as he slipped off his jacket and slung it over his desk chair. "Eighteen seconds into overtime, Kane scores a backhander. Guy's on fire this season."

Despite Jay telling you that you needed to go to bed after the end of the second period, the game was so good that he let you stay up to watch it all...the one caveat being that you had to get up in the morning with no complaint. And, you didn't complain one single time even though you almost fell asleep with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when you were getting ready this morning.

Neither Erin nor Alvin had said anything, they just stared at Jay with worried looks on both their faces. "What's with you two?" Jay furrowed his eyebrows and walked closer to them.

"Halstead," Voight said after he opened his office door.

Jay's eyes widened. Shit, what'd I do now?

"Commander," Jay said as he saw Commander Perry standing in Voight's office. So, even when I'm a grown man, there's still a version of the principal's office. Who knew? Except, this principal controls my job...which means he controls my money. Whatever he thinks I did, it wasn't me.

"Halstead. Have a seat," Commander Perry told the detective.

"I'll stand." Jay placed his hands on his hips.

"Okay then. Where were you last night after shift?"

"Home. Why?"

"So, you're telling me you didn't go out at all last night?"

"I started to drive home from work, but then I turned around because I thought my little sister might want Arby's for dinner. If you want to count a drive-thru as going out, then yes I went out."

"And after that?" Commander Perry prodded.

"Me and my sister watched the Hawks game and I was in bed by midnight."

Commander Perry picked up some black and white photos that were taken from traffic cam footage and held them out to Jay, pointing at specific a specific car. "This was taken last night, right as you pulled into that Arby's. That's Rodiger and that's you, right behind him."

"Okay, so I happened to be getting my takeout behind a pedophile. Maybe he just wanted some curly fries, Lord knows Y/N did when she stole some of mine last night."

"Halstead!" Voight barked. "This isn't a laughing matter! Now shut up and listen!"

Jay clasped his hands behind his back.

"Well, Detective, your alleged pedophile was found dead this morning."

"What?"

"So until this is straightened out, I suggest you find a better excuse than just watching a hockey game and eating fries with your impressionable little sister. Until then, you are officially stripped. Expect a call from Internal Affairs. They'll want to interview you as soon as possible."

"You mean they'll want to interrogate me as soon as possible."

"Jay!" Voight's voice boomed off the walls of the small office.

"I'm the one who wanted to stop that freak! And now I'm the target? Unbelievable!"

Jay flung open the door and was about to storm out when the Commander stopped him. "Halstead!"

"What? I tried to save my sister from this psycho because she saw him buy duct tape and rope and he knows that she saw him! So, excuse me for trying to make sure that my sister stays safe and doesn't end up like Ben Corson!"

"Y/N saw something?" Voight asked. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you."

"I told Antonio, but that's only because we were at Molly's when Y/N called me freaking out. And that's why she's staying with me because Lonnie knows where we live and I didn't want to get a call saying that my sister was murdered and--"

"Halstead, if that's the truth then this isn't just based on your word. We have a witness now. So, I'll talk to Detective Dawson and you go pick up your sister from school. We need her here for questioning. But, you are still stripped until we get this all sorted out."

***

"Can you please send Y/N Halstead to the office please?" the office secretary's voice came over your classroom intercom. "She'll be leaving for the rest of the day."

You furrowed your eyebrows. Leaving for the rest of the day? What? The last time you had to leave for the rest of the day unexpectedly was when your mom died.

"I'll send her down," your teacher replied.

"Alright, thank you." Then, she turned to you. "I'll have your missed work ready for you on Monday, Y/N, and I can email the other teachers you have today that you'll be missing their classes as well if you'd like?"

"That'd be great. Thank you."

"Have a great weekend, Y/N."

"Thank you. You too."

Then, you grabbed your books and made your way to your locker. Once you put everything you needed into your backpack, you made your way to the office. At least you were missing math and science class...you hated both of those subjects. Will got the brains when it came to those two.

But, your relief was short-lived when you saw Kim Burgess and Kevin Atwater standing in the office. You frantically pulled the door open. "Did something happen to Jay? Is he okay? Did he get hurt?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Kim quickly reassured you. "We just need to bring you down to the district is all."

"Why?" you asked, drawing out the word.

"It's better if your brother and Voight explain this to you. But, you are not in any trouble, Jay's not in any trouble, and he's fine," Kevin answered.

"Okay..."

They quickly signed you out and the three of you made your way to the parking lot where their squad car was parked. "Ever been in a patrol car, Y/N?" Kevin asked.

"No," you answered, opening the door to the backseat and throwing your backpack in.

"Well, today's your lucky day. We'll even let you control the music." The three of you got in and Kevin turned on the car and started fiddling with the controls on the radio. "Just tell me to stop when you hear a song you like."

***

"Jay!" you yelled as you ran up the stairs to Intelligence, your backpack bouncing up and down with every step you took. Jay walked out of the break room. You ran to him, narrowly missing Commander Perry. "What's going on? I didn't know I'd need to leave school and then Kim and Kevin came to pick me up and I thought you might be hurt but they said you weren't and--"

"Whoa, whoa," Jay cut you off. "Y/N, slow down. I'm okay. Everything's okay. Voight and Commander Perry here just need to ask you a couple of questions."

"But, I didn't do anything wrong."

"You're not in trouble, kid," Voight said. "Like your brother said, we just need to ask you a few questions and Jay will be with you the whole time."

Since neither Jay nor Voight could get ahold of your dad to get permission to talk to you, they had allowed Jay to sign off on it. And, since you were a minor, the person who signed that paperwork had to be in the room with you the entire time they were talking to you.

"You hungry?" Commander Perry asked as you sat down and Jay stood behind you. "You can grab a snack from the vending machine before we start if you'd like."

It was only 9:00 am. "No thank you," you replied. "I had breakfast a few hours ago and I'm still full from that. Thank you, though."

"You're welcome." He and Voight sat down across from you. "Now, you're probably wondering why you're here," Commander Perry started. "Your brother mentioned that you saw Lonnie Rodiger buy rope and duct tape?"

Your eyes widened and you drew in a breath. "Is he after me? Did he try and break into mine and Dad's house, Jay, because he was looking for me?"

"No, it's nothing like that," the commander interjected before you got worked up even more. "We just wanted to ask you what you saw is all."

You looked to Jay and he nodded, giving you the go-ahead to tell the two men what you had seen when you were walking home from school a few days ago. So, you did just that. You told them about walking home from school and seeing Lonnie with rope and duct tape and him seeing you.

"And you told your brother this?" Commander Perry asked.

"Uh, yeah, I wasn't going to tell him because I didn't want him to freak out or anything, but he always told me that if I saw anything off with Lonnie to tell him. And, I couldn't sleep that night, so I called him really late and he and Antonio came over."

"And what happened next?"

"Jay said that he wanted me to stay at his house until this all blew over because Lonnie saw me. He saw me. And, he knows where I live."

"So, Jay was trying to keep you safe?"

You nodded. "He's even been picking me up from school because he doesn't want me going home--to mine and my dad's place that is--to wait for him to pick me up after he's done with work. He's worried about me."

"Did he do anything else? Take you anywhere in the two days you've been staying with him?"

"No, nowhere other than school."

"Do anything fun?"

"He brought home Arby's last night and he let me stay up late and finish the Blackhawks game! Dad never lets me do that! And, they even won in overtime! And, I stole some of his curly fries."

"Do you know if he left last night after you went to bed?" Commander Perry asked.

"No, he didn't."

"And how can you be so sure about that? You were sleeping weren't you?"

Jay clenched his fists at his sides. You were a kid and this wasn't a trial, it was just getting a statement from you, not putting you on the witness stand.

"Jay never leaves me when he watches me at night. Never has and probably never will. Even when his girlfriend called when he watched me when I was little, he'd either make her come over to our house or would tell her that he was playing with me."

Voight chuckled at how you were spilling bits and pieces of Jay's life before he became a cop and entered his unit. He knew that Jay would never tell him these things, so it was funny hearing how protective and soft the big-shot detective of one of the most elite units of Chicago was with his little sister.

"Okay, thank you," Commander Perry said. "Do you know why we're asking you these questions?"

You shook your head, no.

"Halstead, you want to explain this. We'll butt in if needed," he said. He didn't know how much you knew about this alleged pedophile and murderer, so he figured it would be best to hand Jay the lead on the explanation portion.

Jay sat down in the chair next to you. "Y/N, you're not in trouble. I promise you that."

"You already told me that," you pointed out.

"I know, but I wanted to tell you again."

You furrowed your eyebrows and cocked your head to the side. "Then, why are they asking me questions about Lonnie and about you? Did he kill someone again? Like he did to Ben?"

Jay swallowed. He wasn't about to tell you the details of how someone murdered Lonnie Rodiger. Despite knowing the details of Ben's murder, you didn't need more gruesome pictures of murder in your teenage mind. "Um, Lonnie was found dead last night."

"And they think you did it, don't they?"

Jay's jaw dropped, all his years of being a stone-faced Army ranger and detective flying out the window as you quickly put the pieces together of why you were being talked to by his sergeant and commander. "What? How- Why would you assume that?"

"Dad's not good with turning his Law and Order down when he watches it at night so sometimes when I can't fall asleep, I'll listen to it and I'll hear the interrogation or trial scenes." You shrugged. Then, you turned your attention to Sergeant Voight and Commander Perry. "If you think my brother did it, I can tell you that he didn't because he was home with me all night. I even woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and he was asleep on the couch with his mouth open and he was drooling." You scrunched up your nose in disgust at Jay's sleeping position last night.

"Alright, Sergeant, your unit can investigate this one. But, Halstead, not that I don't believe your sister, but you're still stripped until this gets all sorted out. Go home."

Jay nodded. "C'mon, Y/N. We can go grab lunch or something."

Jay ushered you out of the break room and you grabbed your backpack. "Halstead, what's going on?" Antonio asked, catching you and Jay on your way down the stairs.

"Just, give this case hell for me, Antonio, will you?"

***

"Is it wrong?" you asked Jay when you were driving away from the district. "That I'm glad Lonnie's dead that is?"

Jay sighed. "Listen, I know we shouldn't be glad about someone being dead, but in all honesty, kid, I'm glad he's dead, too."

"Because the world's a safer place?"

"Yeah." And because justice was served for the Corson family, but I'm not gonna talk to my little sister about killing someone for justice...I don't need her to turn into the female version of Hank Voight in twenty years.

"So, were you and Mouse glad when you killed the bad guys over in Afghanistan?"

Oh no, no, no, no, no. I am not about to have this conversation with her. I'm not about to have this conversation with anyone for that matter, much less with my very impressionable, middle-schooler, little sister. "What do you want for lunch? Mcdonalds? Burger King? Wendy's? Pizza Hut?"

"You never answered my question," you told him.

"And you never answered mine. So, what do you want for lunch?"

"Hmmm...I really like the chicken alfredo from Pizza Hut, so can we go there?"

"Pizza Hut it is."

"What are you gonna get? Wait, lemme guess...meat lover's pizza?"

"And, you would be correct."

You arrived at Pizza Hut, which was only half a block away from the Corson's. And, since it was also so close to your school, some high school seniors would come here for lunch...not that you had an open campus at school, but they'd dip out for lunch and then get back unnoticed before their next class. You wondered if you'd be brave enough to do that in high school. You didn't know and you had a few more years until you got to that grade anyway.

"Hey Detective Halstead," a woman greeted Jay.

"Oh, hey Rachelle," Jay said as you both walked up to the counter at Pizza Hut. "How's school going?"

"It's going great actually. And who's this?" she asked, motioning to you.

"This is my little sister, Y/N. Y/N, this is one of my best CIs, Rachelle."

"You're a CI? That's so cool! So you help my brother solve cases? He never tells me about anything he does, so what do you help him with?"

Jay placed a hand on your shoulder. "That's confidential information, kiddo. And don't go blabbing about her being a CI either, because she could get in trouble."

"Got it. She's just someone I know from coming here so much. I have no idea what you're talking about, Jay."

Jay laughed. "Alright, what can I get started for you two?" Rachelle asked.

"Actually, since you're here, I have a quick question for you."

"Okay, let's go around back," she replied, thinking he was going to ask her if she knew anything that might help them with a case.

"No, it's nothing like that. I was just wondering if you'd watch Y/N for a bit while I go run a quick errand? It'd be for twenty, thirty minutes tops."

She looked around the restaurant, it was practically empty. "Yeah, no problem. I can keep an eye on her."

"Awesome thanks. And, uh, she'll have the chicken alfredo and I'll have the meat lover's pizza."

Rachelle rang it up and then told Jay the total. He pulled out his wallet and paid for their food, not without placing a ten-dollar bill in the tip jar. "You didn't have to do that," Rachelle said.

"You're watching Trouble here for a bit, so yeah, I do."

"I am not trouble!" you protested. "Where are you going anyway?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll be back soon."

"But--"

"Hey, Y/N. You want a chocolate chip cookie? I think they just came out of the oven." You frantically nodded your head up and down. "Well, c'mon back here and I'll grab it for you."

She opened the piece of the counter that flipped up and you walked through. Then, she motioned for Jay to leave before you pressed him for more answers on where he was going.

***

"To be honest, I don't feel any sympathy," Danny Corson told Jay as he sat at the kitchen table next to his wife with Jay across from him. "Do the police have any idea who did it?"

Jay had come to the Corson household to tell them the news that Lonnie Rodiger was dead...and to ask Danny some questions that would not go on record.

"We're still trying to piece that together." Jay turned to the red-haired woman. "Gail, do you have ay milk for this?" he asked, holding out his coffee cup."

"Oh, yeah. Let me get it for you," Gail answered.

"Thank you," Jay said to Gail's retreating back as she left the table. Jay turned back to Danny. "They suspended me. They think I did it. So, if you did something, Danny, I need you to tell me now so that we can figure this out together."

"Jay, I have been fantasizing about it for years, but I didn't do it. After all you've done for this family though, if you need me to confess, then I will."

"No, no you will not. I will not let you, or me for that matter, go down for something neither of us did."

"So, you have no idea who did it?"

"At the moment, no."

Jay's phone rang and he held up a finger to tell Danny he'd just be a second. But, then he looked at who was calling him and he practically froze.

"Jay, you okay?" Danny asked.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He accepted the call and placed his phone to his ear. "Rachelle? What's going on? Is Y/N okay?"

"Physically she's fine," she answered. "But, there's this guy yelling at her asking where you are and--"

"Tell me where he is! Your brother! My son is dead because of him!" Jay heard through the phone.

Phil Rodiger.

Jay drew in a breath. "I'm on my way."

He hung up and then turned to Danny and Gail. "I gotta go, I'm sorry. If I find out anything, you'll be the first to know." And then he ran out the door and ran as fast as he ever has to the Pizza Hut half a block away.

***

"He didn't do it!" you yelled. "He was home with me all night!"

"Yeah right! He probably told you to say that!"

"Y/N! Don't say another word!" Jay sprinted over to the booth where you were sitting, your pasta halfway eaten.

"You! You killed him!"

"Phil, we're in a public place. The cops can get called for a disturbance." Jay flicked his eyes to Rachelle and she nodded, picking up her phone.

"Fine! Then let them call the cops! I'll tell them that you killed him! You killed my son!"

He took a step closer to the side of the booth that you were sitting in and Jay quickly placed himself between you and Lonnie Rodiger's father. "You know what? I may have not killed him, but whoever did, did everyone in this world a real favor! Killing a pedophile and a murderer? I'd like to give the guy who killed your sick-ass bastard of a son a medal when they find him!"

"Jay!" you yelled, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging it so that he would turn his attention back to you.

"Y/N, this is grown-up stuff. Butt out!" He turned back to Phil. "Lonnie brought this on himself and you know it!"

You saw a few people from the Intelligence Unit walking up to the building out of the corner of your eye. "Jay, shut the hell up!"

"You killed him!"

"For the last time, I didn't kill your sorry excuse for a son!"

"Police! Break it up!"

Jay was yanked away from you by none other than Antonio Dawson. Adam and Voight had each grabbed one of Phil's shoulders to keep him at bay. Erin knelt in front of you.

"Are you alright, Y/N?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"What the hell, Halstead?" Antonio yelled.

"Wre're taking you in," Voight told Phil Rodiger.

"Am I under arrest?"

"No, we just have some questions about last night we want to ask you is all. Why? Should you be under arrest?"

"No, but he should! I know you did it--"

"We'll talk to him," Voight said. "Don't you worry about that." He turned to Antonio. "You and Lindsay got this, bro?"

"Yeah, we got this," Antonio answered.

Voight nodded and then he and Ruzek escorted Phil Rodiger out of the building.

Antonio waited until Voight's car was safely out of the parking lot, before trying to lead Jay out of the building.

"Dude, I don't need a police escort. I can drive my car back home just fine," Jay protested.

"Jay, just come on. Or do I need to put you in cuffs?" He pulled his handcuffs out of his pocket and allowed them to dangle off his pointer finger.

"Tony, not here," Erin warned. "Not with Y/N watching."

You gasped. They weren't going to arrest Jay, were they? No, they wouldn't. They couldn't.

"Let's just go out to the car," Antonio said.

Once you were all in the car, Antonio driving, Erin in the passenger seat, and you and Jay in the back, did Jay finally address the elephant in the room...or, well, the elephant in the car. "Just so we're clear, I didn't kill Lonnie Rodiger. If I was gonna kill him, I would've done it the night he raped and murdered an eleven-year-old Ben Corson! I was this close, too!"

Your breath caught in your throat. You had assumed he had been raped, hell you had heard Jay talk about it with Gail and Danny, once with your dad, when they thought you were too far out of earshot to hear or thought that you were asleep. But, hearing Jay say it out loud, right in front of you, made it more real than hearing it when you weren't supposed to. And, hearing Jay say that had thoughts about killing Lonnie before...you didn't know how to feel about that. You had wanted him dead, just like Jay had (and how the Corson's probably did as well) but you never thought Jay would actually admit to wanting to kill him, much less say that he had been close to doing it.

"Shit, Y/N, I'm sorry I never told you about that," Jay said, his voice much quieter now. "I just, I didn't know how to tell you and you were ten, so you shouldn't have even known what rape was and I didn't want to explain it to you under those circumstances--"

"I knew," you told him.

"What?" he gasped as he furrowed his eyebrows. "How?"

"I heard you talking to the Corson's once when you thought I couldn't hear you and once when you were talking to Dad when you both thought that I was asleep."

"Well, either way, I'm sorry you had to hear it from me like this. And, I'm sorry he had to go through that."

"Me too," you whispered.

Erin leaned back and handed Jay a file folder. He raised an eyebrow.

"Lonnie Rodiger's homicide file," Antonio told him. "If anyone asks, no ones knows how you got that."

"That goes for you, too, Y/N. As far as you're concerned, you don't know what a homicide file is."

"What's homicide?" you joked. "I don't even know what that is."

"Works for me," Erin said as Jay flipped open the file.

***

"What'd he say? Jay asked, cornering Antonio in the locker room.

"Not here," Antonio told him and led him to the basement.

Once the two detectives were safely in the basement, Antonio let Jay in on the statement that Phil Rodiger had just given the Intelligence Unit about Lonnie Rodiger's murder.

"Can I run something by you?" Jay asked.

"Shoot."

"So, Phil Rodiger gives his statement, and he says...that his son never came home that night," Jay took a deep breath, hoping he wasn't going to get in trouble for saying this. "But I know he did. I may have not gone straight to my apartment after I got takeout for me and Y/N before we watched the Hawks game together."

"I'll talk to Voight. But, I think Y/N needs some help with homework, so go be the good big brother and do that." Antonio clapped Jay on the back and then started up the stairs.

***

"We're good to go," Antonio told him. "But, we got a problem."

"Which is?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They kicked him."

"The hell do you mean they kicked him?"

"I mean, they don't think he did it. But, Jin's getting a location on him." Antonio's phone binged. "And here is that location. Erin, you riding with me? Halstead will follow. I got the photos."

Erin picked up her coat. "Ruzek, watch the kid, okay?"

"You got it," he answered, walking over to the break room.

"Ruz, please do not corrupt my sister."

"I'm hurt Jay, really. That hurt, man," he joked.

The three detectives left the district and made their way to a bar where Phil Rodiger was sitting and drinking alone. The three had agreed that only Jay should go in so that he wouldn't get spooked and try to run off.

Jay entered the bar and took a seat next to Phil. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but started Jay on his reasoning anyway. "In the statement you gave the detectives, you said that you didn't see Lonnie after 10:00 pm, that he went for a drive and he never came back." Jay placed a photo on the bar in front of Phil. "I was following Lonnie that night, and not long after these pictures were taken, I watched him walk into your house. Lonnie got tired of hunting, so he went home. And according to the time of death, he was killed an hour after I took this photo." Phil Rodiger just stared at the photo as Jay turned his attention away from it and onto Phil. "Your son wasn't killed in the park, was he?"

Phil stood up and brought his face close to Jay's. "You got no idea what you're talking about."

Then, he started to walk away, but Jay got up and followed him. Jay was pretty sure his cop instincts were right once again. "Phil, where you going?" Jay paused and looked at him. Phil was looking at the floor and avoiding eye contact the way only a guilty man would. "You killed him."

"He was sick."

Yeah, we all knew that. Took you long enough, Jay thought to himself.

Then, Erin and Antonio rushed in and put Phil in cuffs.

***

Half an hour later, Jay was standing in front of the one-way window with Voight, watching Erin do her thing in the interrogation room.

"I found some pictures on his computer," Phil told Erin. "Boys, same age as the Corson kid. Then I- I confronted him."

"How did you kill Lonnie?" Erin asked, straight to the point. The faster this got straightened out, the faster Jay'd get his badge and gun back.

"We fought. I picked up a belt, and I just- I just kept choking him." Phil tried to keep the tears back, but he couldn't. What kind of father would kill their own son? But then again, most fathers didn't have sons who were monsters.

"And then you dropped his body in the park?"

"Yes."

Jay walked out of the interrogation room the minute he heard those words. He knew Voight had heard the same things he had. So, when Voight motioned for Jay to step into his office, this time, Jay didn't hesitate.

Voight pulled open a drawer and grabbed Jay's badge and gun. "Good to have you back."

"Thanks, Sarge."

"Now, go and get your sister out of here. I think she's bored out of her mind."

Jay chuckled and clipped his badge onto his jeans and holstered his gun. "His dad did it?" you asked, exiting the break room.

"How did you know that?"

"Ruzek told me!"

"Dude! I told you not to corrupt her!"

"Technically, I didn't corrupt her. I told her the truth," he defended.

"Fine, whatever. Mind giving us a ride so we can go get my car back from Pizza Hut?"

"Yeah, no problem."

"I call shotgun!" you yelled and started to race down the stairs.

"No fair!" Jay exclaimed as he chased after you.

***

You and Jay were crouched in front of Ben's grave, the flowers you had planted four days ago brightening the dismal place up a bit. "They got him, Ben, they got him," you explained. "Jay almost got in trouble for it, but it turns out that Lonnie's dad did it." You paused as if waiting for Ben's reaction. You knew he would be saying something along the lines of no way where he was. "I know, no way, right?"

"You okay?" Jay asked as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

You had stopped talking after you asked that rhetorical question. You had no idea what to say now. Ben was still gone.

"I guess it doesn't feel as good as I thought it would," you said, turning your attention to Jay. "It's as if I thought that finding who did this would bring Ben back. I feel relief, but that's it."

"Hey, no matter what you're feeling, it's okay. The way this went down today and the past few days don't matter. We got justice for Ben and that's all that matters. You got justice for Ben. You were the one who saw Lonnie with that rope and duct tape and told me. You were the reason this entire case got off the ground."

"Really?"

"Really," Jay confirmed.

"Well, at least it's justice."

"At least it's justice," Jay echoed.

A/N: Thank you for the amazing feedback on the first installment of this series I posted a few days ago! Your comments really got me motivated to write this one! But, I have some bad news, which is that since I have exams in a week and a half, I won't be posting for at least two weeks, probably closer to two and a half.

Anyway, thank you for reading, and please vote and comment! Reading your comments really gets me motivated to write...even though the next chapter will have to wait a while since I have exams.

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07

#jay halstead #will halstead #chicago pd #jay halstead imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #halstead sister #halstead sister imagine #Halstead brothers #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #imagine

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

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

~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

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

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

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

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

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

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

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

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

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

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

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

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

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

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

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

Martin: Tofu!

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

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

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

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

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

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

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

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

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

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

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

Jon: What?!

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

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

Martin [only laughs harder]

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

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

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

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

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

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

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

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

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

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

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

Martin: Okay? And?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jon, soft: I know, love.

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

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

[Martin sighs]

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

Jon: Please.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#wonderful! au #jonmartin #tma #jon sims #martin blackwood #my fic #thank you to everyone that submitted!!!#also; i am offically out of ideas for installments #more may come later but i make no promises!

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logically-asexual · 3 years

Note

DUDE I’M ABSOLUTELY HOOKED

i would very much love to read more if you’re willing to share :)

dzsfdxgfgh hell yeah

ART/original idea

Previous ramble

My inspiration juices aren’t flowing like last night after 12 but i’ll see if i can remember what i had thought lol. [EDIT im 5 or 6 paragraphs into this post and i can say the inspiration juices flowed again]

First of ALL Janus owns like a million turtlenecks and blazers and coats and he always wears some combination on them, with fashion and color coordination always On Point.

(people get worried for him because sometimes it’s sometimes a little too hot for that, but Janus is always cold lol. its a cold city, anyway, so no big deal)

Logan never misses a day to dress up, either, because he always wears his buttoned shirts and (also color coordinated) ties. i don’t have references but you can imagine, white and light blue shirts with indigo tie and black vest, or black shirt and light blue tie, or maybe even add some purple when he’s feeling colorful. he also isn’t afraid to wear an oversized sweater in the colder months.

the students actually admire both of them for their fashion, different but equally nice to look at.

Now teaching styles ♡ ♡ ♡

Logan is very good at explaining math functions and equations and everything because he is very structured and comes prepared with markers of all sorts of colors that always paint well (he never brings an old, worn out marker to class) and loves explain with arrows, diagrams, pictures, etc. his students eventually memorize his color code because he’s always consistent. some of them think it’s too much but the majority are very grateful.

(kind of like the guys from ASAPScience but without the silly drawings lol) ((these are my own notes lol, i couldn’t find a better example))

Janus on the other hand, is just.. too fond of chalkboards. He doesn’t write down more than a few keywords or important quotes, but his handwritting is unbelievably neat. -both of theirs, except Janus writes in cursive, of couse-. Logan is impressed, because he couldn’t imagine living without colors and diagrams to put his thoughts into writing, and he wouldn’t like the innefficiency of erasing white chalk. Janus doesn’t mind because his lectures are mostly him talking and pointing at the notes he already has written, which he erases until the end of the class. It’s fine, though, because Janus is very good at public speaking, he has you captivated for however long he wants (Logan learns that first-hand).

i like to imagine Logan getting ready to explain something very counterintuitive in his physics class, maybe the relativity of time or the curving of space. he knows his students have seen many sci-fi movies and must have all kind of misconceptions, so he has to be very very clear. Logan goes to Janus when he needs help explaining these more abstract concepts without losing his students’ attention and Janus thinks he is very good at it already, but gives him a few tips nonetheless.

omg now i imagine Janus getting Logan a small blackboard and a box of chalk of different colors for him to carry in his bag, particularly for their conversations, so Logan has an easier time explaining whatever he’s talking about 💕

ANYWAY they have their coffee dates meetings and every single time they begin talking about specific stuff from either of their fields, but eventually they end up in heated philosophical discussions about the place of humans in the universe, the meaning of our existence, how apparently contradicting statements can be true simultaneously, what is the meaning of truth, how everything is defined by our perspective etc. etc. and they have a lot of fun :3

#logan sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #my au ideas (sasi)#loceit

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hyunllx · 3 years

Text

The Christmas Baker

A Hyunlix Hallmark Fic Chapter 5/5 wc: 4.9k

Hwang Hyunjin is a rich, cocky, famous dancer that prefers to keep to himself during the holidays. When his roommate drags him along to visit his hometown, however, Hyunjin meets a boy who helps him believe in the spirit of the season. Primarily Hyunjin’s pov with Felix’s pov added in occasionally. series warnings: Extremely cliche. You will probably cringe at some points but its okay. chapter warnings: None, just super cheesy :) note: This fic is not meant to accurately reflect or portray the members of SKZ. This is just for fun.

Read the last chapter here

|--------------------Felix--------------------|

“Do we have to go?” Felix couldn’t help the whine in his throat as he let Chan push his body into his coat. He winced slightly at the pulling on his wrist when the sleeve passed over it, the pain of the fresh injury having caught up with him over the last 24 hours.

“Yes we have to go. You know you’re going to regret it if you don’t.” Chan paused as he held up Lix’s gloves, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to get them on over the cast. He stuffed them into his hoodie’s pouch after a moment and pulled a beanie onto his little brother’s head instead, “Besides, don’t you want to be there for Hyunjin’s first time at the party?”

Felix let out a small huff as he let his brother dress him like a child; it was easier to have help, even if a little embarrassing. He was right too, Felix DID want to be there with Hyunjin. He knew Hyunjin didn’t care much for the holiday, but the little school-boy crush in him wanted desperately to show him a good time, even if he was hurt.

"Yeah, I guess… I just know everyones gonna be disappointed about the cookies…"

"No, don't think that Lix. Even if Seungmin got only one batch done everyone will be happy to see that you're okay."

The door behind them opened as Chan finished speaking, a tightly bundled Hyunjin rushing in and almost knocking into them,

"Ah! You guys are almost ready!"

Felix looked at the taller boy curiously; since he'd got home from the clinic, Hyunjin had been in and out constantly all day and night. He'd return home for a quick meal or a nap, or to watch Felix as he slept himself, but he was gone again within a few hours, leaving Felix very little time to talk to him. Felix missed him when he was gone, a dangerous thing to feel given Hyunjin was still thinking about his own feelings, but he couldn't help it. When he saw Hyunjin's face light up as their gazes met, he hoped Hyunjin missed him too.

"Chan-hyung," Hyunjin turned his eyes to Chan, who immediately perked up. Felix blinked in surprise, looking between them; since arriving Hyunjin hadn't used such casual, affectionate language before. It was new… but Felix liked hearing him happy and comfortable nonetheless, "Um, some people want you at the town hall immediately. I can bring Felix in a little bit, but you should go meet them as soon as possible."

"Who?" Felix interjected. They were up to something; he could see the twitching at the corner of Chan's mouth that he gets when trying not to smile.

"I'm sure it's just last minute changes, Lixie. I'll go now, thank you Hyunjin."

"Hyung…" Chan gave his forehead a quick goodbye kiss and managed to escape Felix's grasp as he reached for his brother's coat. Hyunjin didn't help, draping a long arm across Felix's shoulders to guide him into the dining room, "Why can't we all just go together?"

Hyunjin paused, clearly not having thought about that before in whatever he was planning,

"Uh, I have something I wanna do first. Here, put your arm on the table."

Felix let out another sigh but obeyed, taking a seat and stretching out his arm as much as he could with the cast, "Like this?"

"Yeah. Now let me just fi- Ah!" Hyunjin shuffled through the many pockets on his thick coat until he produced a thick, black sharpie marker.

With great care not to twist too much, Hyunjin took Felix's arm in his hand and turned it over until his inner wrist was face-up. A hot blush bloomed across Lix's cheeks when Hyunjin popped the marker cap off with his teeth, using the black ink to write something he couldn't yet see on his cast. He felt as though he were back in middle school, having the popular boy sign his cast to sport the signature in front of everyone.

One proud grin later, Hyunjin pulled away to show Felix his message. Though the thick marker smeared a bit over the rough surface of the cast, his forearm read:

Felix, Get well soon so we can dance together. Merry Christmas Hyunjin.

Accompanying the words was a heart drawn directly over his broken wrist. Felix felt as though his own heart may burst,

"What's this?"

"Just a little motivation to get better." Hyunjin snapped the cap back on the marker, avoiding his gaze. His ears were red and he rocked nervously on his heels. He was so incredibly…. cute. Felix wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

Not now. Not today. He reminded himself Hyunjin was still sorting out his feelings.

"Is this an official signature?" He teased instead, eliciting a giggle from Hyunjin,

"Technically yeah, I dunno how much it'll sell for-" His words cut off with a surprised gasp as Felix stood up and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin hesitated; Felix knew he understood the deeper meaning, he didn't need to hear anything in return. After a few rapid heartbeats, Hyunjin wound his arms around Felix in return, crushing him into the thick, squishy coat he still wore. Felix buried his face into the warmth of his chest for a moment, savouring the slip of affection more than he knew he should.

"So uhh…" Hyunjin stuttered, visibly flustered as he broke the embrace, "Are you ready to go?"

Felix nodded, letting Hyunjin lead him outside and down to the driveway. It was dark outside, long past evening and the moon and stars covered in a thick blanket of dark clouds. Despite the black sky above, the town was brightly lit with millions of little glowing bulbs lining the streets. Felix grinned at the sight, feeling lighter and more excited about the party than he had inside.

The only problem was the bitter cold.

As they walked, a breeze stirred in the air, not strong but deeply cold. It bit and stung Felix's cheeks and exposed skin,

"Ah shit…" He groaned as his fingers ached, fumbling the zipper of one of his jacket pockets, "Channie took my gloves with him…"

"Here…" Hyunjin's eyebrows knit together in concern as he plucked off one of his mittens. Felix opened his mouth to reject the mitten, not wanting Hyunjin to have to suffer the cold too, only to have his words halted when Hyunjin's hand slipped into his.

The taller boy winced as Felix's cold flesh pressed against his own, but continued to lace their fingers together. His large hand enveloped Felix's palm, warming his skin. Ears turning red with the sudden intimacy, Felix ducked his head, biting back a smile.

"Is this okay?" Hyunjin asked, his voice timid.

"This is perfect."

They continued to walk in shy silence, Felix's heartbeat roaring so loudly in his ears he was convinced Hyunjin could hear it too. Occasionally they would dare to spare a look at each other, catching the other's eye just to look away. Each time the grip on each other's hand grew tighter, more afraid to let go.

Is this his way of telling me he made up his mind? Felix wondered to himself. He didn't want to voice the thought aloud in case it wasn't true. He had to wait for Hyunjin to be ready to say it. No matter how painful the wait was.

They made their way to the center of town where the town hall stood among the maze of shoveled paths. The windows were all lit up orange and red and warm white, lights and ribbon strung around every tree and hedge and post, drawing them in with the promise of fun and warmth.

Except the sight of the building so close caused the anxiety to gnaw at Felix’s gut again.

“What’s wrong?” They paused at the bottom of the stairs, Hyunjin sensing his hesitation as his steps slowed and his grip grew weaker.

“I’m… really worried people are going to be disappointed to see me. Since I didn’t get to finish setting up everything.” He admitted with a sigh, his breath swirling around him in the cold, “I don’t like letting people down.”

“Hey…” Hyunjin frowned, slipping his hand out of Felix’s to pull him into a side-hug. Felix’s ears grew white-hot at the sudden affection, his hand clutching onto Hyunjin’s coat, “Do you trust me?”

Felix blinked at the question. It felt odd, like he should suspect something was wrong. Yet as he looked up into Hyunjin’s warm, smiling eyes, he knew he did, unquestionably.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“Then trust I wouldn’t bring you here if I thought it would upset you.”

Before Felix could ask what he meant by that, Hyunjin grabbed his hand again and pulled him up the steps to the grand entrance to the old building. The doors were closed, which he found odd, and they both had to push to get them open. Blinking against the assault of brilliant decorations lighting the entire entry hall, Felix stood in the doorway for a moment, dumbfounded at the sight before him.

“Merry Christmas, Felix!” Everyone who had gathered for the event was crowded in the room, dressed up in their santa hats and cheesy sweaters, and all looking at him with the happiest smiles. His neighbours, his employees, his friends, everyone was there and greeted him with a chorus of cheers. Above them hung the typical “Happy Holidays” banner that was used every year, though with a new addition. A second crudely-yet-endearingly-made banner hung from the bottom of the thick fabric:

Get Well Soon Felix

At the center of the entryway, sitting under the standard tree, was a board with papers and notes of various colours pinned up under a sign reading “Dear Felix Lee:” He walked into the crowd, accepting the hugs and high-fives and head rubs from the people he loved so dearly as he passed, until he got to the board.

Just from glancing over them, most of the letters echoed the sentiment of wanting him to get well and recover. Some letters thanked him for running the bakery, or for being so kind. Some called him an essential part of the community. All of them conveyed unconditional love.

Tears welled in his eyes, a wave of relief and overwhelming love crashing over him, lifting the burden of anxiety from his shoulders. No one was disappointed in him… they were worried. The whole town, worried about him.

Seungmin broke away from the crowd and bounced up to Felix excitedly, the bells hanging from his reindeer antler headband jingling over the music playing deeper in the hall.

“What do you think? Were you surprised?”

“Seungminnie... how- how did you do all this?”

“Actually… it was his idea.” Seungmin grinned, pointing behind Felix to where Hyunjin still stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hyunjin? Did this?” Felix blinked several times, his brain unable to process that statement.

“Ah… I have to admit, he also did most of those.” Draping an arm across Felix’s shoulders, Seungmin turned him to face the wall lined with tables of food and drink. At the center of it all was a familiar long table and display case both piled high with hundreds of cookies of various shapes and sizes. Several kids crowded around the table armed with plastic bags of brightly coloured frosting as they decorated their treats. Just like any other year. Like nothing happened.

The tears in his eyes spilled over, and Felix started to cry.

|--------------------Hyunjin--------------------|

Hyunjin lingered in the doorway, watching as Felix took in the surprise everyone had worked so hard to make for him. He was cold and tired, but it still felt odd walking into such a personal celebration. He was still an outsider.

“Hyunjinnie? What are you doing?” Hyunjin didn’t notice Chan escape the crowd until his hand rested on his shoulder, startling him.

“Oh… uh, I’m not sure.” Chan followed his gaze to where Felix and Seungmin were speaking excitedly,

“Go to him.”

“What?”

“Come on, Hyunjin. You did all this for him. You need to tell him.”

Hyunjin didn’t need to be asked twice when Felix turned to look at him, tears glittering under the glowing lights illuminating the hall. He was at Seungmin’s side in an instant, pushing his way through the crowd with his heart racing.

“What’s wrong?” Felix rubbed the tears from his eyes with his sleeve as he saw Hyunjin approach, Seungmin’s face lighting up,

“Um… I’ll go find Minho and give you two a minute.” He gave Hyunjin a reassuring pat on the shoulder before slipping into the crowd, a friendly gesture that still felt so surreal. He’d spent so much time with Felix’s best friend over the last two days, they felt like friends themselves.

“What the matter?” Hyunjin repeated to Felix this time, his heart aching as he watched the small boy try in vain to wipe his tears away.

“I- I can’t believe you did all this… For me?” Hyunjin dropped his eyes, ears burning with embarrassment under his beanie,

“I felt really bad that you couldn’t finish something you were looking forward to so badly. Especially because I feel like it was partially my fault. Seungmin, Minho, and Chan helped a lot.”

“Thank you so much.” Felix tugged him into a tight hug, burying his face into Hyunjin’s chest. He was sure it was to hide his tears, yet he couldn’t complain. He embraced Felix tightly, resting his chin atop his head.

“Thank you for always being so kind to me.”

Felix giggled shyly as he pulled away, his cheeks red now from rubbing his tears off them. Hyunjin took the smaller boy’s face in his hands and used his thumbs to gently do so instead. Not even two days ago, he would’ve considered the action a mistake. It would’ve made him panic at the way his heart pounds and his tummy flutters. The way a dizzy warmness spreads through his veins.

But today… today when he saw the look of pure affection in Felix’s chocolate brown eyes, it brought Hyunjin nothing but joy.

"How are we all doing?" Chan’s voice boomed over a mic and speakers at the back of the hall, startling them both. They giggled shyly to themselves as the crowd cheered, everyone’s attention turning to the platform where Chan stood, set up with his laptop and DJ equipment, which Hyunjin had come to find took up most of his obnoxious amount of luggage,

“Good! Good. It’s really great to be home again to see everyone, especially at this time of year. Um, as you all know, we’re not just here to celebrate Christmas Eve tonight, we’re gathered to celebrate someone very special to my heart. Someone that’s very special to all of us.”

The crowd cheered again, making Felix’s ear turn red and his fingers fumble bashfully with the hem of his jacket. Hyunjin’s heart swelled at the love flooding the room for this boy he cared for so deeply. He wanted to make sure Felix never stopped feeling that love.

Feeling HIS love.

Hyunjin couldn’t deny it anymore. He loved Felix. Relief washed over him like a warm bath, comforting and healing. If only he could make it through tonight… through this party with all these people around… Hyunjin made up his mind to tell Felix when they returned home.

“If you don’t mind, I’ve had a request to play one of his favourite songs. I’d like to play it now, before people start getting tired. You’re welcome to come dance along if you would like. Please enjoy yourselves.”

Claps of excitement rose from the crowd as they parted around the two of them, giving Felix a path to the empty space in front of Chan used as a small dance floor. A smile touched Hyunjin’s lips as the track began to play; the last time he’d heard it he was sat on a couch in Felix’s bakery, watching snow flutter in the wind and waiting for the sweetest boy to bring him something to eat. Felix’s eyes also lit up as he recognized the song, though a frown quickly replaced the smile forming on his lips,

“Ah man… I wish I could dance to this.”

“Why can’t you?” Felix lifted his hand that was trapped inside the pink cast, cocking his head,

“It’s not exactly going to feel good if I try.” Hyunjin smiled gently at him in response, taking his uninjured hand and giving it a gentle squeeze,

“Trust me?”

“I told you I do.”

“Then come dance with me.” Felix nodded cautiously, letting Hyunjin lead him out onto the dance floor. Other couples and kids had already ventured out, swaying or bouncing along to the music in their own little worlds, only acknowledging them enough to not bump into them.

Hyunjin felt more confident like this; he liked the way people in the crowd turned to watch them curiously, and the way the music felt coursing through his muscles. It buzzed in him as if he were preparing to go on stage. The adrenaline before a performance was like anything else in the world. At least he’d thought so until he’d fallen in love. Now both mixed in his chest as he guided Felix’s hands to his shoulders and wrapped his own arms around the small boy’s waist, creating a cocktail of joy and comfort and safety in his body that he’d never thought he’d ever feel.

“Is this okay?” He mumbled, swaying their bodys slightly to the slow pace of the song. He was sure they looked like school kids at their first dance together, but he didn’t care. He felt just as giddy as he would’ve if they were kids.

“Mmm… yeah. This is good.” Felix tucked his head under Hyunjin’s chin, leaning against his chest. Hyunjin didn’t mind the pressure, he relished in Felix’s body heat pressing into him, the way their breathing slowly fell into sync with each other as they enjoyed the moment in silence. As they swayed to the music, Hyunjin caught Chan’s eye from his little stage setup; he was watching them with the biggest smile Hyunjin had ever seen him make. His best friend lifted a thumbs-up, and Hyunjin returned it, the fluttering in his stomach spreading throughout his entire body.

“This is really nice.” Felix murmured against Hyunjin’s chest, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“Yeah, it is.”

“I wish we could do this forever…” Hyunjin could tell by Felix’s tone that he was testing him, poking the waters to see if he would confess his feelings. With a sigh, Hyunjin slipped one hand up Felix’s back to cradle the back of his head, fingers massaging his scalp gently to prompt him to look up.

Their eyes met, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but notice how close their faces were… how easy it would be to lean in and kiss him…

No… that would be unfair to such a sensitive, sweet boy like Felix. Hyunjin knew he had to wait.

“Listen… Can we talk later? When we’re alone… I don’t want to have this conversation in front of all these people, okay?” Felix’s face started to fall so he quickly added, “It’s not bad, I promise. I just… would rather it be private.”

A spark of hope flickered in Felix’s smile as he nodded, sliding his arms from Hyunjin’s shoulder to his neck, dragging him down into a tight hug. Hyunjin buried his face into the crook of the boy’s neck, taking in his sweet, sugary scent and his warmth. He felt peaceful like this, like he was home for the first time.

“Do you mind if I steal him for a minute?” A voice interrupted their embrace as the song ended, Seungmin having walked up to them while they were lost in each other. His puppy face was lit up with an approving smile, stifling a little of the embarrassment that was heating Hyunjin’s face, “There’s some friends who want to see Lixie.”

“Oh yeah… of course. Um… I’ll be over with the cookies if you need me.”

“I’ll find you.” Felix promised, his eyes lingering on Hyunjin as Seungmin led him away until the crowd swallowed them both.

Sparks lingered on Hyunjin’s skin where their bodies were touching for so long, making him giddy as he skipped over to his post. For the first time in his life the christmas tunes that Chan played didn't seem so grating. He understood the joy and the warmth. Though he didn't have nostalgia about the holiday, Hyunjin found himself looking forward to making new memories.

He hoped they would be with Felix.

Hyunjin didn't know how much time had passed that he sat in one of the chairs behind the table stacked high with frosting and cookies. It must've been awhile because he didn't realize he'd dozed off until the metal legs of another chair scraped across the floor next to him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, and seeing it was Minho who'd come to join him definitely didn't settle his unease.

They didn't spend much time together over the last couple days, Minho being focused helping Chan set up the hall while Hyunjin stayed in the bakery with Seungmin. The little time they did spend together, Hyunjin saw a soft side to him when he spoke to his boyfriend and when he was thinking about Felix. He wasn't so intimidatingly cold, but he clearly did not trust outsiders. Hyunjin couldn't blame him for that, he respected it.

Minho spoke, dragging Hyunjin further out of his sleepy daze. He tried to push the drowsiness away as the days of work and little rest rapidly caught up to him,

"Hm?"

"I said, he really likes you. Felix. I don't know if you know, but I've never seen him look at someone like he looks at you." Hyunjin swallowed, meeting Minho’s intense gaze as he spoke.

“Um… I think I like him too to be honest…”

A heavy palm slapped onto Hyunjin’s shoulder, startling him before he could even begin to feel the embarrassment of admitting his feelings aloud to someone else. Minho’s hands were only slightly larger than Felix’s, but his grip was strong enough to make Hyunjin quiver,

“Felix is more than just Channie’s little brother. He’s family. I love that little boy and if you hurt him you’re going to regret it.”

Hyunjin fought the instinct to turtle into his coat and hide from the intense gaze pinning him to the chair, swallowing as he managed to hold eye contact. He knew Minho was testing him, trying to see if he’d crumble and run. But he didn’t want to, he never wanted to.

“I know. If I hurt him I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.” Minho silently held his gaze for a moment before his eyes softened, a smile entertaining his lips,

“Correct answer. Welcome to the family. I better be able to trust you.”

Hyunjin blinked rapidly in shock at the sudden shift. Minho had been nothing but closed off with him since they first met, yet now he was extending a timid warmth to him. He looked friendly even. Hyunjin felt incredibly privileged,

“I uh… yes. Yes, you can trust me.”

“Minho-hyung!” Felix’s voice cut through the music as he bounced up to them, his face alight with his brilliant grin but his eyes wary as he glanced between them, “You’re not scaring Hyunjin, are you?”

“No, he’s alright.” Minho smiled as he pulled Felix into his lap, holding him by the waist as the younger boy wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady himself, “Are you having a good time?”

Felix nodded, grinning at the both of them. Hyunjin’s heart fluttered watching him be so cuddly with his close friend, he looked so small, vulnerable, and unbelievably cute. Though he couldn’t deny the small pang of jealousy in his belly.

“I haven’t tried the cookies yet!” Lix complained, prompting Minho to scoot a little closer to the table. Hyunjin joined them as Felix reached for the nearest tray of star-shaped cookies. Seungmin had pre-decorated these ones with gold and silver frosting, and tiny glittering sprinkles in matching colours. He picked out three and passed them out between each of them, making a happy little noise as he bit into the treat.

Hyunjin held his breath as Felix took a moment to chew slowly, savoring and analyzing the flavors. He swallowed and a warm smile broke across his face,

“Hyunjin, these taste so good!” Lix looked up at him as if in awe, taking another bite like he couldn’t believe it. Hyunjin squirmed with embarrassment, biting into his own cookie,

“I guess I had a good teacher…”

Felix beamed at him, finishing his cookie with large, hungry bites. When he finished, he used the parchment lining the tray to wrap up the remaining cookies and stick them in his pocket for later.

“I’m starting to feel tired though. It’s close to midnight.” he whined, resting his head against Minho’s to punctuate his point.

“That’s funny, I caught Hyunjin sleeping just a few minutes ago.” Minho teased. Hyunjin opened his mouth to protest, but Felix let out a loud yawn that cut him off,

“Maybe we should head home a little early?”

“If you want to leave now, I’ll walk you home.” Hyunjin offered, making Felix perk up with a smile,

"Okay, I'd like that." Minho helped Felix off his lap, giving him a playful swat on the butt,

"Be careful, no more accidents." Felix squeaked and giggled, giving his friend a quick hug,

"I'll be okay Hyung, Hyunjin is with me."

Their fingers naturally locking together, Hyunjin let Felix lead him through the crowd and out into the night. The breeze had died while they were in the party, taking the edge of bitterness out of the cold air. Still, the boys huddled together as they walked, both for warmth and the comfort of each other's proximity.

Felix talked about the letters he'd read and the signatures from friends that he'd accumulated on his cast through the night. Hyunjin really did desperately try to listen, yet with every step he took closer to the house, the more his brain melted into pudding as he realized he was getting closer and closer to having to confess his feelings.

Why am I so anxious? He asked himself, I already know how he'll react. I've already admitted how I feel.

The driveway came into view. Hyunjin thought he might throw up.

"Thank you again for everything you did." Felix said as they shuffled up toward the house, "You really didn't have to do all of that."

Hyunjin paused, stopping Felix and making him look up, confused at his sudden hesitation.

"Yes, I did." He sighed, building the courage to look Felix in the eye. The boy cocked his head, sensing the seriousness in Hyunjin's tone, "I already told you this but I do like you… a lot. In an overwhelming sort of way. It really scared me to know you were hurt. I realized that no matter how hard I tried to push my feelings away, they were just going to keep growing. I- I think I'm falling in love with you, Felix. And I want to be with you. It's the only thing I want."

“Hyunjin…” Felix’s voice was gentle, warm, his eyes welling with tears much like Hyunjin’s own, “I’m falling in love with you too.”

“Do you- Do you think we can try to work this out?” He hated the way his voice broke with the nerves and overwhelming sense of joy pulsing through him.

“I would really like that.”

Floodgates opened somewhere inside Hyunjin and all the love and desire he’d been holding back crashed through his system, washing away his doubts and fears. The crushing tide brought back the need to hold Felix, to kiss him and never let go. He didn’t need to stop himself anymore. One hand lifted to rest against the smaller boy’s cheek, pulling him in like gravity until their lips touched for the first time. Felix’s arms wrapped around Hyunjin’s neck, pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss with a content sigh.

All Hyunjin could think about was how his lips tasted like sugar, how when their tongues found each other, he tasted like vanilla and butter. His lips were so soft, his happy little moans and gasps the sweetest music Hyunjin had ever heard. He wanted to stay in this moment for the rest of his life.

They finally broke away when something cold and wet settled on Hyunjin’s cheek, then again on his nose, and his knuckles. Chest heaving, he looked up as snowflakes drifted down from the dark clouds above, swirling around them gently. Felix let out an excited laugh, the flakes settling on his freckles and long eyelashes. He was so beautiful.

I can’t believe he’s mine.

“Felix? Merry Christmas.” The small boy beamed at him with a grin that rivaled all the lights in the town,

“Merry Christmas, Hyunjin.”

#stray kids #skz #skz fanfic #skz au #lee felix #hyunjin #hyunlix #hyunlix fic #mine #my fic #the christmas baker #its finally done #three months late and out of season fdhdjfh #im such a slow writer im so sorry #thank you to everyone that stuck with me to read this #i hope the ending is satisfying enough #ngl i needed to stick that hyunholix scene in there because it felt weird shipping minho with someone else now that i ship them all jdhfkjd

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mymegumi · 3 years

Text

GLORY

pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader

summary: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god

genre: far cry five au, enemies to not-quite lovers, darker themes, villain au. tbh not really a ship fic </3

word count: 3.7k

warnings: heavy talk of religion, cults, cultish manipulation, dubious morality, use of guns, bad characters, haikyuu!! characters portrayed as villains, fake drugs, mentions of abuse, torture, injuries, implied noncon drug use and swearing

notes: i want to preface this by saying this is much darker than the content i normally write. it is not my normal content, and i am hopeful that i tagged everything properly; please tell me if i didn’t! also i dipped a bit into a character study of the main character’s fetch quest idea, in which you do all the work that other’s in game easily could! nonetheless, if you still wanna read—i hope you enjoy!

Hope’s County was a desolate piece of shit.

It was filled to the brim with cultists that seemed to think the Coming was approaching, in which the Lord would cast down those who did not repent for their sins. Truthfully, you weren’t even all that religious, but finding out about the self-proclaimed Sin family had turned you off to the idea even more, turning your back on the faith of a warped version of Christianity to instead focus on your job.

Called into the deteriorating county, you were a simple deputy—a rookie with barely a few years of work under your belt. You weren’t too keen on your police work, often finding the job as systematically fucked as the government officials that decided to turn a blind eye to the Sin family since the youngest of the bunch had more money to wave around than you did to pay your monthly rent.

“Rook,” an unfortunate nickname that’d stuck around against your protestations, your superior—Daichi was nice, if not a bit too optimistic—called out to you, waving you over to the map of Hope’s County, red marker furiously drawn all over, “you’re still new: y’remember what I told you about Suna?”

“Second oldest of the brothers, he’s considered the least of a threat due to the fact he’s often working in the Bliss fields.” You poke your head out the window a bit, eyes searching over the high reaching tops of ficus trees, “It’s not really known if he ingests the drug and experiences the hallucination of his followers, but it can be assumed that he doesn’t, to maintain the power over those that do.”

Daichi nods his approval at you, and you feel a flare of resentment somewhere deep in your belly. You try not to, really you do, you’re a good person who’s good at your job, and sometimes you go to church when it’s Easter, but in the same breath, you don’t remember the last time you’d ever even considered confessing your so-called sins to a Father.

The number one sin on your list, so Atsumu had taunted to you as he held a knife to your throat, was apparently Pride—too prideful of your supposed Savior of Hope’s County title you’d been given, pride thrummed in your veins after every member of his Father’s cult you wiped out. You don’t really remember what had happened after that, vaguely that his younger twin brother had to all but pry him off of you, reminding the blond of their Father’s purpose for you.

It was the only reason you were still alive, the Father’s so-called purpose for you—the fact he saw in his visions a future where you were a key piece, the final chess piece moving to keep a king in check. Even despite the list of sins Atsumu insisted that you followed, pride seemingly the one that harbored the most space in your person.

You, however, knew what your sin was. It flared red and angry whenever Daichi talked down to you as if your some odd years in the force were wiped clean, and you were a true rookie yet again, no smarter than a civilian to the dark ways the world worked. It made heat run through your body whenever Kita, the Father of the Sin family, called you his greatest masterpiece as if he had any say in the way you were slowly turning into a war machine—plowing through his followers with scary ease and accuracy.

Your greatest sin reared its head whenever you faced Suna, too laid back, too uncaring, and the antithesis of everything that you stood for.

Wrath, you learned, made your hands shake when he smiled at you, edges looping as if the Bliss he grew just poured from every pore of his body.

“Not that one can really want to ingest bliss,” Daichi murmurs into his palm a bit, leaning over his map of Hope’s County, “It’s more you get too close to it and the fumes of it will get you.”

Bliss was, just as the Sin family was, something you’d never even come close to encountering before. It was a drug that they’d found, or crossbred, and it had hallucinogenic effects on whoever inhaled the product it released.

Batches of it were found all over the county, but the root of the source was in Suna’s valley of the land, affectionately known as Heaven Valley by those who couldn’t remember the name, or didn’t try to. You’d seen more than one group of people in hazmat suits having to clear out fields of it, and just watching them made your head dip and spin with the would-be effects if you’d gone any closer than you already were.

Bush of full, green leaves with seemingly innocent white flowers on it, the plant itself was harmless, and yet when allowed to convert carbon dioxide, it made a lethal gas that made anyone who got too close go mad. It was said that the family had even begun experimenting with grinding it into a powder or melting it down to its liquid state.

“Bunch of fucking crazies,” You mutter the words to yourself long after you’d left the solace of Daichi’s office, somewhere out in the valley and far out of earshot of anyone that might wonder which group of people you were referring to—the ones producing cult members at a daily rate that was intensely concerning, or the ones trying to stop them, “God, I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“Hey, there, Dep, hope you’re tuned into my channel,” You could honestly groan, but you’re trying to make sure no one finds you on your perch in a tree somewhere, your 308 carbine’s scope not exactly focused on anything in particular, but at the ready. Suna’s voice is light and airy over the radio attached to your hip, though the sound is tuned to the earpiece you’re wearing, “Just wanted to let you know that ‘Tsumu’s missing you an awful lot. Says you left before he could have his fun, won’t stop pouting about it.”

You’re smarter than answering to a taunt that Suna sets out in front of you, and yet you can’t help but feel as if your lack of an answer is him winning. Maybe his so-called brother was right about the sin he’d tried carving into the flesh of your abdomen.

“You’d look real funny if I hadn’t picked up just now, Suna,” you whisper, eyes straying from the scope to the button that’s meant to be an answer to the other person on the line.

Suna’s laugh is a little grainy on the radio channel, but it’s not taunting like it usually is, joy written into the edges of his laugh, “And yet you’re on the other end of the line, answering me, dear Deputy. So who really looks funny in the end, hm?”

Fuck. The brunet had caught you, the lure of an unanswered challenge too much for you to pass up for your pride, a sin in and of itself. Maybe you should offer yourself up to Osamu and Atsumu again to get pride carved into your skin because apparently, your wrath wasn’t enough.

“Touché,” You start to climb down from the tree, slinging the gun over your shoulder as you huff into the receiver of the microphone. Your feet catch in the knots of the tree, and your hands start to blister a bit when you lose your footing, and yet Suna stays silent on the radio.

“Going silent on me, what was the point of the call—just to talk about your brother’s unfortunate hobbies with me?”

“Can’t a guy call out into the void and not expect someone to respond?” His smile is almost palpable over the radio call, however many times he flickers in and out of the call, “You’re always welcome to come visit my cabin, Dep.”

“Not in a million years,” feet now firmly planted on the ground, you have to right yourself a bit in orientation before you head towards the ATV you’d taken out to this part of the woods.

“I wouldn’t say that so definitely.”

Suna, of the Sin family, was often on the radio with you. He wasn’t always talking directly to you, no, sometimes he was just talking about idle parts of his day and there was a part of you that wondered if there was a part of him that just needed someone to talk to.

You always had to push the thoughts aside, however, tucking them somewhere deep into your chest so you wouldn’t sympathize with him. He was the cause for the murder of a multitude of people in Hope’s County, the root of the drug trade that went outside of the otherwise isolated county, and sometimes the despite it all, you sympathized with the man.

The Sin family was notorious in Hope’s County as not only being the leading members of the cult but because of their immigration status. Cast out of Japan in their early teens for following a faith so incorrectly, they found solace in the soil of a town in need of a direction, no matter how far off the beaten path it would take its members.

Kita Shinsuke, also known as the Father by those following their twisted version of Christianity, was the head of the operations. A prophet of fallacies or of forthcoming events, no one truly knew, and yet he claimed the words of God followed him in his sleep, that he couldn’t leave the Lord’s words unanswered.

The next of the group was often on his own, Ojiro Aran an isolated member of the family that preferred to stay in his section of the woods, away from the chaos that seemed to follow the youngest members of their little family. Ojiro was often known as the zookeeper, both for keeping the rowdy Osamu and Atsumu in line, while also because of his secondary role in the family—the trainer and breeder of wolves that were often used as indicators of one’s faith.

The Miya twins seemed to cause the most upfront issues for the Hope County Police Department, causing more than one silo to explode on the otherwise neutral farmlands. They seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, with their sins written on their bodies as if the Lord would accept their souls, rather than just their vessels. Sloth was scrawled across the younger of the two’s chest, with a matching Pride across the other’s, letters both a bit off-kilter.

The final member, of which enjoyed causing you, personally, the most trouble, was Suna Rintarou, genius beyond words and yet lazy beyond belief. For what he lacked in motivation, he made up for in creative and almost barbaric forms of punishment. His words were sharp around the edges, and yet they made everyone listen to the sermons he preached, like a moth drawn to the flame.

“My dear, sweet Rook, you seem to forget that this territory is mine,” you ignore the way he inflicts his claim on the land you’ve no right being on, and yet it sends something akin to fear down the lines of your spine, “You walk among these trees as if you’re hidden, and yet I always know where you are.”

“Sounds less like you know your territory,” you start, always willing to put up a fight with the brunet you’d not seen in at least a week, at this point, “and more like you’re stalking me—got a crush, Rintarou?”

“More like an infatuation,” his voice is just a purr, too velvety to just be jest, and yet there’s a part of you that knows you can’t trust a word this man says, “take what you want from that, darling, I’m not the one going to be thinking about it all night.”

Perhaps Atsumu had gotten your sin wrong, and perhaps there was a second option he’d never even considered—your human nature was multifaceted and ever-changing, and perhaps your sins were available in multitudes, rather than a singularity.

If he catches you again, you’d love to see his reaction to you saying you’d be willing to let him carve lust into your skin with his knife—love it even more if he asked who it was for.

Suna doesn’t say much more after that, just his usual spiel of the fact you need to atone for your sins, and that Osamu’s always willing to wash them from your skin in the river. You forget to mention your latest one isn’t one so easily erased from your skin, too deeply embedded in your bones, and you wear it like a second skin at this point.

That’s why you struggle, sometimes, against the Sin brothers and their outlandish claims of paradise meant for those who atone. You struggle because you know the weight of each sin you’ve ever committed—a book added to an already overflowing backpack of crimes against God.

Suna Rintarou, most of all, makes your blood simmer white-hot with unbridled rage—yet you’re not even sure why. It might be the lackadaisical smile that’s ever-present on his face, edges sloping and curving over his face as he taunts you, knives glinting in the sunlight of day. It might even be the way you want to press as close to him as possible, and run as far away from him as possible at the same time—ever the perfect contradiction, a paradox of which you’ve been unable to solve for your time at Hope’s County.

Perhaps the Sin family is right in the unmaking of the world, but your only proof is that God smites you by making Suna one of the most undeniably attractive men you’ve ever met.

Confident in a way that carries in the gait of his walk, and the way his shoulders settle on his frame, Suna knows that he’s got his claws deep in your skin—gripping you to keep you at a distance, and yet not letting you get any further away from him. As if you’d let him get away, your hands would be wrapped around the column of his neck—intent to kill or to offer pleasure, you’d just have to decide when the time came.

“Howdy, stranger.”

These woods must twist your sense of mind, pushing and pulling at the seams of your existence and the fabric that makes the foundation of your realities—the air must be contaminated. You’re not where you thought you were going: you’d been headed towards the Miyas’ territory with the sole purpose of destroying the sin of wrath that had been crawling its way up your throat, trying to escape at any chance.

Yet, you’ve ended up in Heaven’s Valley, and straight into Suna’s hand.

He stands before you, hands tucked into a pair of dark beige cargo pants with a loose leather vest as his only top, smooth skin covered in scars and tattoos on full display. For all that Atsumu spewed of repenting for your sins, confessions meant to be curled into skin with a blade, you had to admit that he was one hell of a tattoo artist.

Suna’s tattoos were unlike the harsh angles of Osamu’s, forgoing the looping script of the English language for the smooth strokes of Japanese. It was a harsh juxtaposition to the jagged letters of ‘greed’ splayed across the expanse of his lower belly, the bottom of the ‘g’ dipping underneath the waistband of his pants.

“Rintarou, what a surprise.” Your words slur a bit at the edges, and you’re not sure if it’s just from stepping into his land or being in his presence, but there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that Bliss dances in your system, “Can’t say I’m disappointed to see you.”

“How honest, sweet one,” his smile resembles a wolf, you come to the conclusion because despite the Sin family being described as a pack of foxes, there’s a carnal look in his eyes as he stares at you, “I like when you’re honest with me.”

“I like when you don’t shoot me on sight,” you vaguely remember a pistol at your hip, your carbine left behind in favor of a shotgun, “makes our little talks seem more personal.”

His laugh is clear, a bell in the fog that is your mind, “Do I often shoot at you, sweet one, for I believe it’s you that shoots first.”

“Mm,” you let your eyes flicker to his before you feel a crease form between your brows, “you still shoot back.”

“I never let a favor go unpaid, darling.” He’s closer to you now, a hand sliding along the curve of your arm, before resting just above your pulse point. His hand is warm, opposite of the cooling night air, “Yet you’ve done a favor for me I’ve not yet given anything in return for.”

“What?”

Your confusion is palpable even without your verbal input because Suna’s thumb is smoothing it away from your brow with his free hand. His eyes are darker now with the sun down, only the moonlight illuminating the outline of his face and there’s something about the sight that makes your skin rise, goosebumps lining your arms.

“Deputy,” the moniker is like a velvety purr against the exposed skin of your nape, “I’m a bit hurt that you don’t remember our very first meeting. It holds such a sweet spot in my heart, so for you to forget it cuts me deep to my core.”

You wrack your brain trying to remember the first time you’d met Suna, all those days ago at the beginning of the summer, when you’d been unscarred and unafraid of your allegiances. There was still a hopeful part of you, then, that had been so sure you could be the savior of these people.

“I don’t…” your voice trails off as you watch Suna walk back in front of you, his face calm as you worry at your bottom lip.

“Of course not,” a knife flickers in his hand, the silver blade gleaming in the pale light of the moon, “you were much too blissed out to remember, but there was information you provided that proved most useful.”

His hands trail along your arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake as you lean closer to him, drawn in as if connected by an invisible string. Suna’s leaned in closer now, close enough that you can feel his exhales fanning across your face gently; can see when his eyes flicker and dance on the lines of your features.

“Pretty little thing, too pretty to be fighting a war you never signed up for,” he muses softly as the back of his hand eases across your cheek, “my darling deputy, you told me you wished for an escape from the pressures, the responsibilities that the locals had forced upon you. You are but a single piece, yet you’re burdened with the work of a hundred pawns.”

You take a shuddering breath in, and you let the tension leave your body that had settled along the weight of your shoulders as soon as Suna let his presence be known. You let the need to shoot him rest, because despite this man being the suffering and cause of so many downfalls—he understood.

He understood your wrath, the feeling of it tingling in your fingertips whenever Daichi asked you to do a job that could easily be done by someone else. You were just a person who’d stumbled into Hope’s County at a precipice of change—down on your luck and thrust into a job and title that made you feel like an imposter. He knew your fists clenched whenever another civilian came to you, begging you to save their farm when indeed, it would do nothing in the end for the resistance.

Maybe he knew that underneath every mundane task that you helped others with, there was a vexation that ran along the lengths of your body at their inability to do things on their own. You loved the citizens of this county, you swore to protect them when you became a member of the police force, and yet an undeniable thrum of rage would flood your body when they leaned on you more than the other members of the resistance.

How lovely it was that someone else understood you, even if it was Suna Rintarou.

Why were you fighting them so hard? Your mind supplies this thought too easily, like shrugging on a hoodie on a cold night, and it flits around your brain and fills in the empty spaces that Suna keeps tearing in your psyche.

You remember the end of the sermon that Kita had spoken when you first went to arrest him, all those months ago when the summer was licking at spring’s heels. He’d been haloed in the rays of the evening sun that filtered into the partially broken down church, hands spread with a rosary wrapped tightly against his left hand.

“For all have sinned,” he had spoken softly, eyes locking with yours as soon as the doors opened, and you felt panic strike you still, Daichi pressing on your shoulder to make you continue walking, “and fall short of the glory of God.”

If you were a sinner already falling from His good graces, why not enter hell with a list of sins that made the Devil take a breath in? Were you not already marked for damnation—what good would siding with Suna Rintarou and his family of fucked up prophets do for you?

“Rintarou,” his name leaves your mouth breathlessly, “if I’m going to hell, I’m going to drag you and your family with me.”

His eyes flash with something you can’t quite place your finger on, and yet the feeling it gives you runs along your spine with a chill, “You’re making a mistake. My family and I will find you, no matter where you are, and no matter what trouble you kick up.”

You press a kiss along the curve of his jaw, not missing the way his hands clench at his sides, “Then come catch me.”

There’s a part of you that hates that Atsumu was right because pride sinks into your bones with the fact that you leave with the last word. The last laugh is yours as you leave Suna in the dust of your exit, not knowing if there was another way it could have ended, if you’d just taken the hand he’d extended to you.

t.list — @nekomabvc

#tw religion #tw abuse #tw torture #tw drugs #tw violence #tw guns #tw manipulation #tw cults #tw cult #suna x y/n #suna rintaro x y/n #suna x you #suna x reader #suna rintarou #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #grind for the wealth

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chestnut-b · 4 years

Text

Himawari Chapter 6

This man will be the death of you.

The first time Iruka had laid eyes on Kakashi’s figure in that field of sunflowers, a voice had whispered in his ear, as if carried by the wind.

Chapter 6 of a Demon Slayer AU.

Iruka, I’m sorry.

His mother had smiled at him sadly the first time he’d mentioned hearing voices. She’d taken him into her warm arms and sang a sweet but melancholic song, her hands running through his hair, the sound of the waves breaching the shore outside eventually lulling him to sleep.

It wasn’t until he was older that he was made to understand the nature of being born a Senju.

Descendants would always be born with bodies that would fail them.

Their karma from having produced a great demon would haunt their line till the day Orochimaru was wiped from existence.

But the gods, in some twisted form of consolation, decided to bestow their kin with exceptional foresight, allowing them to amass their fortunes, and continue their fight till this day, leading the demon slayers.

Of all the voices Iruka had heard throughout his life, the one that would have saved his parents never reached him.

Iruka had been a sickly child, too weak to lift a sword. He could manage a kunai at least, much to his father’s relief, and soon, he began his training in the shinobi arts. Poisons, traps, diversions and an almost inhumane focus on accuracy made up a large part of his childhood memories with his father. Bittersweet, but precious nonetheless.

Ikaku hailed from a small shinobi village on the Izu coast, its destruction eventually leading him to the demon slayers. He’d been reporting to Sarutobi at his estate when he came across a visiting Kohari.

“He was as red as a tomato.” Sarutobi would chuckle, grinning widely as he recounted that first meeting. His father’s dour demeanour had been well-known amongst his comrades, but so was his sense of duty. It made his desertion with Kohari all the more shocking.

“The burden of being a Senju is not an easy one to bear, Iruka. She wanted to protect you, however she could.”

It was the night of his thirteenth year. He was managing a squirming Naruto in his arms when Sarutobi had said that. Had Iruka followed the path he was meant to walk, he would have already been married to a wife chosen by the temple, and the baby in his arms would have been his own, one who would eventually endure the same cycle of karma as their ancestors before them.

If being thankful for avoiding that fate made him a coward, so be it.

His parents had brought him to Sarutobi several times as he grew older, despite the lingering fear of retribution for deserting. With his instruction, Iruka had eventually worked up the strength to even wield a sword, something Sarutobi considered an achievement in itself, even if his stamina would always be left wanting.

“If something happens to us, go to him.”

Those were the last instructions they gave him before they had set out from their home. A week prior, a talking crow had appeared, bearing news of the coming birth of an Uzumaki, and the hoard of demons and familiars who were beginning to gather. His mother, already in a weakened state, simply looked at her husband resolvedly.

Perhaps she too, had received her own revelation. Ikaku had deserted the corp, but never his will to protect the weak from demons. His blade had never seen a dull day, and this time, he would not let his old comrades face the coming threat alone.

They’d died fulfilling their duties.

Iruka was proud of them. He’d told them as much, praying before the empty grave markers he’d made outside their home.

He’d just wished they hadn’t left him behind.

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

If he closed his eyes and focused, he could hear the beat of Kakashi’s heart.

Like the rumbling of a storm forming in the distance.

As a child, he’d run out of the house to stand on the edge of the cliff where his parents’ graves now stood, watching with fascination as the darkening clouds gathered where the sea met the sky.

If he closed his eyes, he’d find himself there yet again.

“Naruto, keep yourself together. Not much longer now.”

Surprisingly, the boy nodded obediently without complaint. He’d been strangely quiet. They were passing through another wisteria grove, and Iruka found himself being carried on the Hashira’s back as they made the last of their way back to the school. Kakashi had insisted; he wasn’t in good shape, despite the rest he had gotten.

An hour ago when they’d left the cave, he’d slipped an arm under his knees and back, lifting him up as easily as one would a child. Resistance at this point was futile, and Kakashi’s amusement seemed to grow the redder he got.

This man will be the death of you.

The first time Iruka had laid eyes on Kakashi’s figure in that field of sunflowers, a voice had whispered in his ear, as if carried by the wind.

It wasn’t said with any kind of discernible malice, nor was it tainted with foreboding, like so many of the voices he’d heard before.

It was gentle and lined with warmth, almost as if it was meant to comfort him.

Mother?

Iruka had been so shaken by this, he’d forgotten to offer his name to the Hashira when they finally met.

Nearly two months later, here he was, flush against a warm and broad back that reminded him painfully of his father, Naruto trailing sleepily behind them.

If this was what that voice was referring to, perhaps it wasn’t the worst way to go.

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

They moved at a steady pace amidst the rain of falling petals overhead, and he was just about ready to doze off before Kakashi’s musings reached his ears.

“I was thinking...we’re not too different after all, Iruka-sensei.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Final Selection. I didn’t pass either.” He admitted softly.

“I’ve heard Naruto tell better lies, Kakashi-san.” Iruka couldn’t imagine a world where it could be true.

“You wound me, sensei. I’d never lie to you.” Iruka thought he almost sounded serious for a moment, but Kakashi sighed wistfully before continuing, a little more subdued than Iruka was used to hearing.

“After my father died, I ended up at a school. I met a boy, Obito, and a girl, Rin there. Minato-sensei eventually came and took us as his apprentices.”

“Obito was an idiot, but we became rivals. We entered the selection together. I’d always made fun of him for being a crybaby and a goody-two shoes, but he ended up saving many of the entrants that year.”

“We ended up against a demon who’d survived on the mountain for over three decades, eating humans and absorbing other demons. We were outmatched, and I’d lost an eye, but...Obito managed to activate his Sharingan.”

The Sharingan; so Obito was a descendant of the Uchiha, Iruka realised. Like the Uzumaki, they’d come from a long, ancient line of demon hunters. Their eyes were said to have granted demon-like perception, but at a steep price. Much like the Senju, none with an activated Sharingan would live to see old age. By now, they had been all but wiped out, after one of their members had become a demon, slaughtering and sparing not even a single child,

“We thought we’d defeated it, and I’d let my guard down. The cave we were in collapsed on us.” Kakashi continued. “Obito protected me and took the blow, but his right side was crushed.”

Iruka’s hold on Kakashi’s shoulders tightened on reflex. He knew what was coming. The eyepatch over Kakashi’s left eye, along with his fame as a Hashira, was more than enough.

“Rin was skilled enough to fulfill his last request, but I lost consciousness right after, and when I came to, the selection was over. Obito was the only one who failed to make it that year.”

Kakashi looked up at the wisteria flowers overhead.

“So you see, sensei, I don’t deserve to be standing here right now. I didn’t pass the selection like I was supposed to.”

Iruka pressed closer.

“Please don’t say that. It hasn’t just been Naruto and my life you’ve saved.” Iruka whispered. How many lives had Kakashi rescued since becoming a slayer, too many to count, in all likelihood.

Passing the selection meant you had to survive a week on that battlefield, and Kakashi had, by all means, passed. Most of the entrants would have been children.

The demon Kakashi had faced might have been an outlier, but the thought of Naruto having to go through the same ordeal was almost too much to bear.

“You don’t resent the Senju for all this?”

It was a question only a Hashira could answer. They were the only ones in the corp who knew the identity of their leader; it was a secret as closely guarded as the location of the family estate. The rest of the corp knew him only as “Oyakata-sama”.

“I can’t say they’ve done everything right, but they are doing their best.” Kakashi stated. There must have been more he wanted to say, he’d refrained from doing so.

They continued walking in silence for a while more, but a question had been circling in Iruka’s mind since Kakashi had mentioned it the night before.

“Kakashi-san...your father, did he...look like you?”

He felt Kakashi’s pace hitch for just a beat.

“Why do you ask?” It was barely a whisper.

“If he did...I might have seen him before.” Iruka admitted.

It was one of Iruka’s earliest recollections. The man had hair much longer than Kakashi’s, and though Iruka had yet to see most of the Hashira’s face, the aura they projected was remarkably similar.

The man fought Ikaku outside their home. It had been a fierce battle, and the first time he’d seen his father fight another human. Kohari had been holding him, and she’d been more scared than Iruka remembered being.

“I think he’d been sent to find us. Father called him -”

“Sakumo.” Kakashi finished. Iruka nodded.

“He didn’t say very much. They fought, and after a while, he just left.”

Kakashi snorted. “That sounds just like him”

Iruka smiled wryly. He’d left out the fact that Sakumo had beat his father half an inch from his life. With a wave, he’d left with a satisfied look on his face, together with the hound he’d arrived with.

“He’d found us, but nothing ever happened after that.”

Kakashi chuckled softly. “So he was testing your father’s resolve then.”

Iruka smiled.

“He must have been a good man.”

“What makes you think that?” It almost sounded like a test.

Iruka had only ever seen his father cry twice. The first, when he had to accept there was nothing he could do for his wife’s declining condition. The second…

“My father cried when the news came.”

That Sakumo had killed himself, having been turned a demon. Even if it had been against his will, his village would have shunned him, even in death. His family too, would have been made outcasts.

Kakashi remained quiet, and Iruka was slowly beginning to regret bringing up the subject.

“Thank you. It’s good to know I wasn’t the only one.”

Gods.

He closed his eyes, feeling like the child he used to be, watching the storm brewing on the horizon. Sakumo and Kakashi, watching them in battle, had felt exactly the same way.

He thought of his parents, who were watching him from wherever they’d gone.

Father...Mother…

If there is any happiness out there meant for this man…

Please, guide him to it.

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

Iruka had requested for the last of his dignity to be spared, and so just before they’d arrived at gates, Kakashi set the teacher back down on his two feet. Strapping his sword back into his belt, Iruka checked on his young charge, who had been almost unnervingly quiet since they’d set out this morning.

“Naruto, something wrong?”

“I’m fine, sensei.” He could have been a lot more convincing if he’d looked Iruka in the eyes. Iruka’s expression grew more concerned, and he placed a warm hand on the boy’s head.

“You must be starving. I’ll have them fix you something as soon as we get back.” The boy nodded in response, and the three of them walked towards the gates.

“What the heck happened to you?” Izumo and Kotetsu had run up to them as soon as they were in sight. Iruka scratched the back of his head and sighed.

“We ran into some trouble on the way back. One of the entry points’ been destroyed, and we encountered a demon at the cave by the ravine.”

“You’re serious. It’s the second one this month. We’ll have to let the others know. You look like crap by the way.”

Iruka rolled his eyes in Kotetsu’s direction.

“Who took over my class today?”

“Oh, Mizuki did, he wasn’t too happy about it either. He says you owe him a main dish at dinner.”

“Right.” Iruka sighed.

Behind them, Izumo went up to Kakashi, holding up a slip of paper to the Hashira.

“A message arrived this morning for you, Hatake-dono.” Kakashi thanked the man, and looked at the letter’s contents.

The Snake Pillar has arrived. Your presence at headquarters is requested. Your debriefing will be held in two days.

So Anko had returned. A debriefing…

Kakashi’s gaze found Iruka’s back. He’d gone up ahead with Naruto, but turned around to send a tired smile his way.

Was this feeling...Disappointment?

Perhaps.

Despite the realisation, he found himself smiling too.

It had been a long time since he’d had something to feel that way about.

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

“I see.”

Iruka was staring into his tea cup again.

“Naruto’s in good hands, Iruka-sensei.” Kakashi said, sipping at his own tea. He’d spent the afternoon packing his belongings.

It had been years since Kakashi had spent this much time in one place, but it wasn’t as difficult as he’d expected. Two months had gone by in the blink of an eye, and he’d been given precious time to think about things he’d brushed off before.

Like why he was still alive. Why he was still a demon slayer.

Despite everything he’d lost, living the life he did, it was easy to forget.

“I’ll send Bisuke and Guruko when I can.”

Iruka laughed softly. “Not that anything exciting happens around here, but I’d like to hear about your adventures, Kakashi-san.”

The teacher’s face seemed to brighten at his words. His face was faintly flushed, and his smile was warm. It was different from the one he’d seen the day they’d first met, the one that was meant to greet a superior. Kakashi liked to think they could be friends.

That night at dinner, when Iruka gave up his dish as compensation to Mizuki for covering for him, he’d laughed when half a grilled fish appeared on his empty plate.

It was a worthwhile sacrifice to hear it.

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

“Naruto’s resting in bed. He’s still pretty out of it I’m afraid.”

Iruka scratched at his scar sheepishly.

They’d walked together till the gates were out of sight. Guruko was trailing behind Kakashi, but when they’d stopped, Iruka kneeled down to give her a satisfying rub.

“Don’t let Kakashi-san work you too hard, Guruko.” He whispered. Guruko barked happily in agreement. Iruka laughed, and rose again to face Kakashi.

“So this is where we part.”

“For now.”

“For now.” Iruka repeated, nodding.

He reached a hand out towards the Hashira, who took it firmly in his own.

“It’s going to be a bit lonelier now. Keep safe, Kakashi-san.”

It was a hard ask for someone who’d lived to throw themselves into battle.

“Well, I’ll do my best, Iruka-sensei.”

He would. Kakashi had to stay alive, now that he’d found a new reason to fight.

“Maybe I’ll find a way to defeat Orochimaru, and you’ll finally be able to leave this fancy cage you’ve built for yourself.”

If the gods are willing, you’ll get to see Naruto grow up, or even have a family of your own.

Iruka’s eyes widened, before softening again. He let go of Kakashi’s hand.

“I’ve never thought of it that way, but thank you, Kakashi-san.”

“I’m really glad I got to meet you.”

Kakashi smiled at him one more time before he started walking. Lifting an arm, he gave a lazy wave before eventually disappearing from sight.

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

It should have only been the two of them, so why did he feel a third presence?

Iruka felt a burning sensation in his chest.

It hurt to breathe.

He pried his eyes open.

Naruto lay in his futon an arm away. But he was wide awake, and he was staring at Iruka wordlessly; not with his sky-blue eyes, no.

The eyes that bore into him now were slit, and glowed orange like a molten fire.

“Naruto...?” Words struggled to leave his throat, but the boy didn’t respond. Iruka felt despair grip him. If this wasn’t a nightmare, what was he to do?

He did the only thing he could think of.

Reaching an arm out to Naruto, he pulled the boy to his chest. It was as if he’d held his hand to a naked flame. His entire body burned.

He heard a faint growl and felt the child struggle under his arm, and despite his burning lungs, Iruka held him closer.

“Naruto, it’s alright. I’m here.” Iruka cried.

No matter what happens. I’m here.

The boy stiffened in his arms, but soon relaxed into his hold. The heat emanating from his body dissipated, and Iruka found the strength to take in air once again. The third presence he had felt faded from his senses, and the boy was soon breathing in the relaxed rhythm Iruka had come to know.

Closing his eyes, he recalled Kakashi’s words the day before.

Naruto’s in good hands...

I can only pray you’re right, Kakashi-san.

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

End of Chapter 6

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Author’s Notes:

Ohh, I wasn’t kidding when I said this was going to be a slow burn. ;_;

It’s not a chapter with too much going on in it, but I hope it was an enjoyable one nonetheless! I’m curious as to what you think (if you’ve read Demon Slayer) and how it’s been used as a backdrop for this fic. Of course, things have been changed a bit. : )

I’m really happy with how the art turned out for this chapter though! I’ve had to teach myself how to draw again after a long hiatus, and this was the first time I’ve been satisfied with the end result, so I hope you enjoy it too!

#kakairu #iruka #kakashi #iruka umino #umino iruka #demon slayer au

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naturecoaster · 1 year

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Homosassa Inshore Fishing Report with Captain Toney: Triple Tail Time

A new fish has made its way into town. A lot of them are on the small side but fun to catch, nonetheless. Triple tail are an up-and-down the Big Bend fish, and I've talked to local guides in Cedar Key who are catching them daily, and then the bite will shift, and the Spoil Banks in Crystal River will be on fire with them. On my side of the keys, I find them mostly in dark water around the mouth of the major rivers. Triple tail are also on the markers in Homosassa and Chassahowitzka. Most of the triple tail I catch are short, the minimum size is 18", but if you like to saltwater fly fish this is a relatively easy one to target. They love floating structure like crab buoys, cardboard boxes, tree/mangrove debris and certain markers. My method of catching them is to run past likely spots, and if I see one then I use a shrimp under a cork after I've shut down and drifted in to casting range. There is also a method of using FADS. Fish attracting devices (FADS) are a good way to create your own triple tail spots. I use a cinder block with a short piece of black poly crab line attached to an obscure old buoy. In the line I weave brown palm fronds to create the habitat. They prefer brown, trust me. Sink them just below the surface to keep from being detected. Keep in mind it is your duty after the fish stop using it to clean up your FADS and put it in the back yard till they show up again in the fall. If you don't want to do that, then please send me the GPS# when you put them out and I'll make sure to clean them up for you! High incoming tide will be early morning this weekend. Homosassa Inshore Fishing Report from Captain William Toney To schedule a fishing charter or shore lunch excursion with Captain Toney, visit his website. A third-generation fishing guide in the Homosassa area, a member of the Homosassa Guides Association, and author of the Homosassa Inshore Fishing Report each week in NatureCoaster.com. To read about our Shore Lunch excursion with Captain Toney, click here. If you want to learn more about how to catch Nature Coast fish from Captain Toney, subscribe to his videos at https://inthespread.com Captain William Toney is a fourth-generation Homosassa fishing guide. He provides our weekly Homosassa Inshore Fishing Report. If you enjoy Captain Toney's weekly Homosassa Inshore Fishing Report, please be sure to tell your friends! Read the full article

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vraelgard · 4 years

Photo

Every year in summer, the citizens of Vraelgard celebrate the solstice, fine weather, and blessings granted to them by the Sages. The entire country becomes adorned with brightly colored decorations. Many homes and businesses display large banners inscribed with wishes the creators pray for the Sages to fulfill: wishes of hope, peace, love -- and some who long for more material things, such as fame or fortune. Regardless of their desires, it becomes obvious that a festival is in progress simply by viewing the decorations and the excited atmosphere. Even the most taciturn citizens seem to brighten as the festival comes near. These festivities aren’t open for just natives to Vraelgard; those from other worlds and different countries are welcomed to participate with open arms. It’s the perfect opportunity for those foreigners to try cuisine unique to Vraelgard and engage in local customs. The celebration lasts two weeks and is filled with music, performances, games, and food stands. It may even be a chance for commoners to interact more closely with the nobles. After all, even Princess Lilliana takes time out of her day to thank the Sages with a festival.

GENERAL INFO

Welcome to a (mini) event! While this doesn’t have a huge impact on our group plot itself, we thought the end of summer would be a perfect time to celebrate the life that the members have given to Vraelgard. We hope you enjoy these fun times! Below are some locations that have some fun activities you can do. Of course, this doesn’t encompass everything that Vraelgard has to offer for this festival, but it’s a good baseline to start if you need something to get the ideas going!

As a general note, this event will count towards your rank-ups. However, we are establishing some minimal requirements for it! You will need to post one paragraph length post, two mini posts, OR a 300 word drabble. While we definitely encourage you to write more, that’s what you need to count for an event rank-up. Please remember to note this on your threads page!

We hope you enjoy and have fun!

TERRA

TEMPLE OF THE DIVINE

Though cheery music magically plays throughout the entirety of the lands, the Temple of the Divine has placed forth some sort of stage for professional performers. Any and all acts are available, ranging from singing, dancing, comedy, plays, and much more. Even the new citizens of Terra would be allowed to sign up for a performance, though they would need to register beforehand and specify what sort of act they would do. Some acts may be good; some are not. But nonetheless, the crowd enjoys whatever is performed, genuinely or not.

For performances that exceed expectations, flower petals seem to blow through the area, though one isn't sure where it comes from.

GENERAL: NORTHERN SECTOR

Supplied by Fantasy Costco-Denny's, the Northern sector seems to be where a large portion of the meals are kept. Lines and lines of merchants, all eager to sell whatever secret family recipe they have, decorate the roads in aisles. If you're looking for a specific kind of food, changes are that there'll be a vendor somewhere to provide it. The types can range from full meals like noodles or rice, to snacks like candied apples and skewers. The trash bins all placed around the area never seem to fill, and there is a nice sign attached to the side that shows the Magic Quarter has provided these to ensure cleanliness of the land.

THE CHANTERELLE CLUB

For those who have a more refined and sophisticated taste, The Chanterelle Club is offering a special discount for those who both order a drink and play the various bar games. Whether you enjoy darts, pool, or even the singular and mismatched table of air hockey somehow dragged in, there seems to be an ever-eager amount of people willing to indulge in a game while tasting the finest wines. The air hockey table, however, only has the frat kids with fruity cocktails. You guess they must be paying a lot of money to be here.

If you're lucky enough to receive an invite, perhaps you can even take a step in the mysterious nightclub that lingers underneath. There's a special festival raid with glowing merchandise you can purchase, though the rave itself seems mostly unchanged from its normal service. You think there might be a remix of some of the festival music, but you can't put your finger on the artist.

KESTER PARK

At Kester Park, decorations are strewn about in a colorful display of pinwheels, flags, and whatever suits the merchant's needs. Here, vendors of miscellaneous items are sold. Small trinkets and toys are widely available, including small fans, figures of the sages, and whatever handheld toy a child (and perhaps some adults) could enjoy. Plastic weapons for pretend fighting? Paper umbrellas to shield you from the shade? Bubble machines and balloon animals? They seem to have it all! There also seems to be small firecrackers sold along with bins marked clearly for disposal. We ask that you please do not litter our parks!

On occasion, larger firework shows will occur and blossom in the skies. They're in various colors and sizes; sometimes even the shapes tend to look like various figures of the ruling noble council. The end, of course, is always a dazzling pink display of a figure that resembles the Princess.

GENERAL: SOUTHERN SECTOR

Whereas the Northern Sector focuses more on foods, the Southern Sector has their sights set on fun games and prizes. Throughout the lands here, there are a variety of common festival games you can partake in: things like Aqua's Aim where you try to fill a balloon with water to pop it, or throwing rings around jars to receive whatever fun rewards are inside. If you can think of the game you want, then they surely have it! The prizes are mainly small trinkets or plushies of all sizes, but in truth, aren't these games more to display one's skill anyways? Perhaps you could show off to that person you've been eyeing for quite some time!

There are also games to catch small aquatic animals like goldfish or small turtles in a pool, but strangely, they turn to a crystalline figure when you successfully reel one in. They float in the air and no longer seem to be real, but they bounce around and somehow follow you. You see these are quite popular with the children.

Oh, and there's a game, of course, to dunk Rook into a pool. You just have to throw the bean bag at the target hard enough!

PEARL PARK

Because Pearl Park is a larger domain for outdoor activities, there are certain activities all segmented. There's water gun fights, paintball fights, and even laser tag! If you prefer to indulge in exercise more than just perusing around, then this is the place for you! Despite no borders separating the activities except for simple stanchions, you notice that missed shots never seem to disrupt the other locations. It's quite fascinating.

There are even segments for sports fans if you wish! Want to play basketball? There are cobblestone flooring and makeshift baskets to resemble a hoop. Soccer? A small field has been marked. Same for football. There are various vendors around who rent equipment for those who are not prepared, including changing stations for more comfortable athletic wear.

BLACKGROVE

GENERAL

Blackgrove is dedicated towards skygazing and wandering merriment. The haze that plagues Terra seems to lessen here, and though you would be unable to peer into other locations, the sky shines beautifully and illuminates the enchanting forest in a subtle but mystical aura. There are miscellaneous food providers that stay upon the edge of the forest, though albeit pricier as they provide a large lunchbox for you to take. Most who enter the forest during this festival do so with the intention of a picnic or perhaps a thrilling game of hide and seek among the trees. There are markers throughout the forest to help guide lost travelers, though those who wander too deep find themselves returning to the beginning nonetheless. A strange turn of events, indeed.

CIEMNICA COMMUNE

If you find yourselves in the forest and come across white-barked trees, you are in luck to be in the presence of Witches of Darkness. Here, they sell small trinkets and furniture for you to bring along your picnicking. Perhaps you are in need of a blanket to lie upon, or perhaps you've come to seek their cushions? Rumors have stated that their quilts are imbued with magic and can even fly, though that has yet to be confirmed by the witches. They merely smile at the question.

FANTASY 7/11

Adventurers who partook in the battles to restore Sage Tenebrae's domain, do you feel courageous to enter this store? Words are that there lurks an eldritch abomination who surveys the nearby lands for a brawl. Strangely enough, it does not seem like it has any intent to kill, but it surely will not hold back if you wish to use the full extent of your prowess. Perhaps, if you find yourselves bored of meaningless wandering, you could enter the arena for a little exercise.

#vraelgard event #vraelgard sages solstice #sages solstice

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sunsetinmyvein · 4 years

Text

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Five - Where’s the Fun in Doin’ What You’re Told?

After his comment when she was leaving the hotel, she had expected Matty to be in pretty regular contact with cheesy one-liners and attempts to win her over. But how much they spoke to each other actually seemed to mysteriously lessen. A part of her wanted to ask him about it, but the other part of her assumed that he was probably just busy finishing off the tour that he was on. Eventually, she had the feeling that she might have worked out why he was suddenly less chatty. It was heard through the grapevine that perhaps a certain band with a certain curly haired frontman were travelling back in her general direction. There were rumours that they might be booked as a last-minute additional headliner for a nation-wide festival to try and move their ticket sales. The day before the news was officially announced, Matty texted her a picture of the line-up for the festival with ‘The 1975’ haphazardly scrawled across the top of it by him.

11:16am You should work this. The line-up looks good.

11:19am I’m not sure, looks pretty meh if you ask me. That headliner is a bit overrated.

11:20am :O

She laughed lightly as his message before just telling him the truth. It surprised her that he hadn’t already heard this news from his bandmates, because it had come up the weekend prior at the party under the conversation starter of ‘things Matty doesn’t know yet’.

11:20am I’m already working it. Got asked to a little while ago.

Her phone started ringing the second after that message had been received.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked as soon as she answered the call.

“I figured you’d find out soon enough.” She answered with a shrug he couldn’t see. “You only just got home, didn’t you? When do you fly out again?” She asked.

“In two days. I won’t be at your stop on the festival tour for a little under two weeks, though.” He explained. From the background noises she could hear, it sounded like he was at a restaurant or café or something. She absent-mindedly wondered who he was out with. “You reckon you can wait that long?” He added.

“I think I’ll survive, Matty.” She replied with a laugh.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to pretend.” He continued, the teasing tone instantly finding its way into his voice.

“Oh, good to know. In which case I will definitely die a slow and painful death by next Wednesday if you don’t get here before then.” She shot back seriously.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he began chuckling, “Well, you have to wait until next Sunday before we can hang out. Don’t die before then.” He said.

“You know that it’s proper work, yeah? I can’t just sit around with you all day.” She asked, knowing full well that festival merch was very different to headline concert merch.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

* * *

“This is boring.” Matty groaned from his spot on the floor of the merch tent where he was fiddling with her permanent marker. He’d come down to merch as soon as the band arrived on site, and had been sitting in the merch tent for nearly an hour now. She had tried her best to warn him about the difference between counting in and displaying merch for one headliner and support act compared to a festival line-up with 20 bands that all had a minimum of two shirt designs each, but he hadn’t listened. The workload was especially bad considering her brother wasn’t here, he wasn’t meant to be getting in on his flight from the previous stop on the festival track to help her until well after doors had opened. But Matty insisted on coming down anyway despite this.

“That sounds like a you problem.” She laughed as she continued counting shirts from what felt like the millionth box that she had opened. His company was nice, but it was also fairly distracting. “You could help me, you know.” She added.

“I am helping. I am providing essential company.” He answered as he reached over and pulled a slip of cardboard off the ground.

“How did you manage to swing coming back here for a national tour so soon after you just left, anyway?” She asked. It had surprised her to hear that he had been able to organise an international tour to the same country twice within as many months. It didn’t seem very viable to the band to be back in the same spot so quickly.

“We had downtime once we finished up the tour that we were on.” He shrugged. “I just suggested that we find something else to do and saw this. Put it to Jamie that we offer to be a last-minute addition to the set and he sorted it.”

“Isn’t downtime meant to be for actually having a break from this stuff?” She asked as she moved onto the next box.

“Downtime is boring.” He huffed.

“Burning the candle at both ends a bit there, Matty.”

“Death is inevitable, and I’d rather die busy than die bored.” He deadpanned. She glanced over at him, expecting him to be having some deep philosophical moment over this information. But there he was, sitting on the floor of her merch tent, scrawling a drawing of a dog on a piece of cardboard in permanent marker. “Look, it’s Allen.” He said with a grin as he held up the drawing.

As much as he felt like boredom was about to overtake him, Matty was adamant on hanging out in the merch tent for as long as he could. She had actively set him a challenge by telling him that she’d never say that she was into him. He already knew full well that at least a part of her was, even if only for superficial reasons, because she wouldn’t react to him in the ways that she did if she wasn’t. It was potentially a bit arrogant of him, but he had pretty good reason to believe that he was fairly proficient on picking up other people’s signals and being charming. So, her comment was just a red flag to a bull; to say that she’d never tell him something like that. He had been thinking on the best way to go about it, and certainly step one was to maximise the amount of time that they were actually in each other’s space. Being able to come out for the festival was something in the interim until he could come up with a more concrete idea, but he wasn’t about to waste any time that he had available. Step two was that he had to work out the right buttons to press to get her to admit that she fancied him. There was a fine line between being a sleaze and being charmingly flirtatious. He liked to think that he walked that line pretty well. But nonetheless he had to be careful that he was pressing the right buttons, and not crossing that line by pressing the wrong ones. That was going to be a meticulous process of trial and error. He watched her with mild curiosity as she worked around the tent, trying to think of half decent ways to get her attention.

“Give us your phone.” He said after a few minutes of silence.

“Why?” She asked without looking up from the numbers she was entering into her spreadsheet.

“So that I can play some tunes.” He answered.

“Just play music off your own phone?” She frowned as she glanced down at him.

“International roaming is expensive and I know that you have stuff downloaded. Please?” He asked with a sappy smile. She rolled her eyes before grabbing her phone out of her pocket and handing it to him. As soon as he opened her phone, he saw that it was still sitting on their text chain and then noticed that his number was still… just that, his number. Not his name. Not a dorky nickname. Not anything. “Hey! Why haven’t you saved my number? It’s been nearly two months since I gave you that!”

“Why are you snooping through my phone?” She asked with a slight laugh. “I know who you are, I don’t have to save it. Maybe I’m trying to value your privacy in case certain people in my life decide to search through my phone when they’re meant to be playing music.” That second part about valuing his privacy was an afterthought to cover her own laziness for not having saved his contact, but it sounded good.

“Not my fault that you had it open on our conversation history.” He mumbled under his breath, shrugging as he quickly saved his contact as a kissing emoji.

A little while passed in silence, and she was beginning to get worried that he actually was going through her phone looking for something. There wasn’t anything too incriminating on there, but if he went into the right conversations on the right apps he might find some comments she had made about him that she’d rather he didn’t know. “Are you gonna play something, or what?” She asked after about ten minutes of him scrolling, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice.

“In a minute, I’m just making a playlist.” He answered. Shortly after that, the beginning of Feeling This by Blink 182 filled the tent. She nodded her head in approval at his choice, having not heard the song in a while. It wasn’t until a few songs had passed that she was beginning to notice a common theme in his playlist. XO, Situations, Lying Is the Most Fun, Shake It… these were all songs blatantly about sex. Sure as anything, as soon as she realised what he was doing, Sex by The 1975 started playing. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“I am beginning to sense some underlying messages here.” She chuckled, leaning against the counter to face him.

“Hm?” He questioned, looking up at her in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb, Matty.” She said as she shook her head.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What underlying messages?” He asked innocently. As soon as she went to call him out on it, the doubt in the back of her mind set in that maybe it was just a coincidence. There were about 4,000 songs on her phone, it was possible, albeit unlikely, that maybe it was just chance. Was she just pulling a pattern together herself? Unless he just wanted her to think that it was all in her head? That sounded like something he’d do. The longer she took to answer, the worse the smirk on his face got.

Thankfully before she had to dive headfirst into that conversation, there was a noise from the other side of the tent. “You both still alive in there?” A familiar voice called as George poked his head in through the door.

“George! Hey!” She grinned as he stepped inside over Matty’s legs and pulled her in for a hug. “Good to see you.” She added as she hugged him back tightly.

“Hi, love! Hope he hasn’t been too painful?” He asked as he gestured down to their friend on the floor. She looked behind George at Matty, only to see him smiling up at her unassumingly. The music had also mysteriously stopped.

“He’s been… interesting.” She laughed. He just gave an over exaggerated wink in response.

“Well, I am here to take him off your hands.” He said as he offered a hand out to the frontman. “Doors are in thirty, Matt. Come on.” Matty grabbed his hand, standing up with a sigh. The two of them headed out of the tent, and she was glad that she might finally be able to get the last of her work done.

“Oh, wait!” She heard Matty shout as he suddenly came barrelling back into the merch tent, a wristband in hand. “Here, you need one of these.” He said as he took her left wrist in his hand and secured the all access wristband. He intentionally let his movements linger, and it didn’t go unnoticed. She just looked at him sceptically as he pulled his hands away, trying to work out what the hell he was doing. If he could work out her weak spots, he could easily use them to his advantage. He would just have to keep testing the waters until he hit the mark. “See you later!” He shouted as he ran out to catch up with George.

“What are you doing?” The drummer asked him with a tired look.

“Nothin’.” He shrugged, smiling to himself.

The half an hour until doors opened flew by in no time at all, and soon the torrent of concert goers started to flow in through the gates. Management running the festival had told her that it was sold out, and festivals were generally a much higher capacity than a regular concert, so it was anticipated to be a pretty busy day. Especially when she was working by herself for the first half of it. She hadn’t quite been able to finish all of the set up by the time that she had to start serving customers, probably in thanks to Matty, which meant that the first hour of selling shirts was also coupled with folding the remaining shirts. But time goes quickly when you’re busy, so it was not long at all before her brother suddenly appeared in the tent, and then by their powers combined the sales were through the roof. The merch tent ran like a well-oiled machine when the two of them worked together, and the more they sold the more efficient it got. It wasn’t until her phone buzzed in her pocket that she snapped out of Sales ModeTM and came back to reality. It had been nearly six hours of solid selling, and she was starting to feel the effects of standing up for so long. She was probably due for a break soon. Which, apparently Matty shared the same sentiment. Or, at least that’s who she assumed the new contact that was listed as just a winking kiss emoji was. She had to chuckle a little at his choice of contact name.

3:46pm Come hang out.

3:52pm Can’t. Have to work.

She shot back as another person stepped up to the counter. She would have to wait until it got a bit quieter before she got her chance to go grab some food.

3:53pm Just get someone else to cover.

3:59pm There isn’t anyone else to cover. I’m here to work, I can’t just dick around with you all day.

The sales continued, the sun started dipping a bit lower in the sky, the bands on stage came and went. By this point in the day the festival was in full swing, and it was slowly but surely dying down at the merch tent. The people that were lining up now were the ones who took a million years to decide, then had to message their friend to check if they should get that shirt or the other shirt, and then in the end said ‘I’ll be back later’ only to never return. As she was waiting patiently for any of them to step up and actually buy something, she heard her name being called from the back of the merch tent. She turned to see her brother on the phone to someone.

“Can you go grab a few boxes for me?” He asked with a pleading look, covering the receiver with his other hand. “Apparently there’s some back behind catering that are a part of a giveaway or something. I’ll hold down the fort here if you can go get them.” He added, before gesturing out to the few people still trying to make up their minds outside.

“Yeah, no problem.” She nodded with a smile before ducking out of the tent.

It took a few minutes and chatting to a couple of security guards to work out where exactly catering was, but eventually she found it tucked behind a few of the food vans. As she circled the pop-up tent, she realised that she wasn’t entirely sure what sort of boxes she was looking for. Were they small boxes or big boxes? Should she have brought a trolley? Were they many huge boxes full of heavy hoodies or a couple of small boxes with posters in them? Shit. Who would she get to help bring them back if she couldn’t carry them all? Maybe she’d just have to make a few trips? Suddenly, all of her questions were answered. She rolled her eyes as she saw the curly haired boy sitting on the two boxes that she assumed she was meant to grab, joint in hand and staring idly around the venue. “I really should’ve known that you’d be here.” She chuckled as she walked over to Matty. He glanced up at her in curiosity, then looked down at the boxes he was sitting on.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Are these your boxes?” He asked innocently as he stood up off of them.

“They do say ‘for merch’ on the side.” She pointed out.

“That could mean anything.” He shrugged as she picked one of them up. It was oddly light.

“Are these empty?” She asked as she picked the other up as well. As she flipped open the lid, her suspicions were confirmed. “Did you put these two boxes together?” She narrowed her eyes at him in accusation.

“How strange…” Matty hummed quietly, opting to ignore the question. “While you’re here, d’you fancy a quick drink?” He added casually.

Of course. Of course he had managed to get her out of the merch tent and here to hang out with him. She pulled her phone out with a sigh, quickly verifying what the time was. It was just past five. She had started work at nine that morning. It was probably as good a time as any to take a break. Once it began getting dark there was going to be the usual small rush of people realising that they hadn’t brought enough layers and needed to purchase more, so it only made sense to take a break now rather than later. It was just purely coincidental that she was going to take it with Matty. She flicked her brother a quick text to let him know that she was going to take her break while she was out, and also that the boxes were not for them, before slipping her phone back into her pocket.

“Only if we get food too.” She agreed, laughing a little as she watched the satisfied grin split across his face. “You sort drinks, I’ll sort food.” She added. He gave a sharp nod before looking around for somewhere he could actually get a drink from. A large part of him had expected her to say no and to just go back to work, so he hadn’t really expected to get this far. While he jogged off in search of alcohol, she made her way to the first food van she saw and placed an order; pickiness wasn’t really an option when you were hungry with limited time. And given how many people were already here at the show it was likely that all the food vans would have a decent wait time before she actually got anything to eat. As she waited for the food to be ready, she took a quick look around the festival to see if she could spot where Matty had run off to. He was at a bar across the way, chatting to the female bartender who was running the till. There was clearly a lot of flirting going on. Lots of arm touching and laughing and Matty was just leaning right over that counter to be in her personal space. It had become pretty apparent in the time that she had known him that he was just a generally flirty and charismatic guy. She had seen it a little bit at the shows, but it had been very obvious at the party the other week. Which was fine. That was just him. She could accept that. But it didn’t make it any easier to watch him be like that with other people. Not that she was jealous, being jealous would mean that she specifically wanted that attention directed towards her, which she totally didn’t, it was just- The call for her order thankfully snapped her out of her thoughts before they went down that rabbit hole of justification.

As she turned around with the food, she saw that Matty was walking back with a triumphant look on his face and two bottles in his hands.

“Free drinks!” He cheered as he handed her one of the ciders and kept on walking right past her.

“Where are you going?” She asked with a frown.

“Dressing room.” He shouted back over his shoulder. “It’ll be quieter there and I’ve got some stuff to do.” He explained, cracking open his bottle and taking a swig from it.

“Oh, so you can work, but I can’t?” She laughed as she began following him, trying to balance the food in one hand with her drink in the other.

“You only work because of me.” He answered with a smug look.

“Other bands exist besides yours. You know that, right?” She asked.

“Yeah, but they aren’t as good. My band is the best out there. So, we pretty much have a monopoly on the gig industry. We own you.” What might have started as a serious sentiment on his part quickly devolved into a joke, and as much as he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn’t help but laugh when she scoffed at what he had said.

“You wish you had a monopoly on merch. I don’t think I’d ever get anything done if you were my boss.” She chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. That didn’t sound like such a bad thing… Her words had given him an idea. But he’d have to fire off a few texts tomorrow to see if it had any possibility of working.

They finally reached the backstage area after a couple of wrong turns around all of the tents that looked exactly the same. That was the downside of outdoor festivals, everything was a temporary setup hired from the same company. So, everything was exactly the same style of tent. The two of them sat down, eating their food in silence for a little bit before Matty decided he had better start to get ready for their set. “Which do you prefer,” He said as he held up two separate outfits. “go all out with the suit, or stick to basics with the shirt and ripped jeans?” He was hoping that this question might give him a bit of insight into which look she preferred on him, but the blank look and noncommittal shrug weren’t exactly helpful.

“It’s your show.” She answered before taking another bite of her food truck dinner.

“Yeah, but…” He started, before deciding that explaining himself was going to take too long and probably detract from his aura of confidence. “Never mind.” He said with a sigh, deciding to just stick with the shirt and jeans for the sake of comfort and consistent image.

After quickly changing he came back into the green room to sort out his hair. He had been feeling like he was probably overdue for a haircut. It was at that awkward length where it was not short enough to stay out of his eyes and not long enough to properly sort it out. Gelling it back seemed like the best option for the meantime. As he was messing about with his hair, he caught her staring at him through the mirror. He combed the gel through his hair and looked back at her with an eyebrow raised. “What?” He asked after a moment.

“Why are you gelling it back?” She asked with a frown.

“I just get annoyed by how it gets in my way sometimes.” He answered, shrugging slightly.

“Hmph. Fair enough.” She did not seem happy about this information. He found that far too amusing.

“You prefer the bed head look?” He asked with a mischievous smirk spreading across his face. He could work with that information.

“It’s just-”

“No, no, I get it. It’s very close in similarity to the post-sex look so I can see the appeal.” The smirk had spread into a grin at this point as he watched her cheeks redden.

She just shook her head at him, “Why are you like this...”

“Matt, did you end up sorting-” Ross began saying as he waltzed into the room, before looking up from his phone and spotting Y/N/N sitting in there as well. “Oh, hello!” He said with a smile. “What’re you doin’ here?” He asked as he sat next to her on the couch and stole one of her chips.

“Got dragged here by him.” She answered, gesturing towards Matty who was still messing with his hair in the mirror.

He nodded in understanding. “How’s merch going?” He questioned.

“It’s going good! I think we’ve already hit the expected sales total per head, so it’s only up from here.” She said eagerly, proud to finally get to tell someone that they were doing really well today.

“Well, I hope it’s not taking too much of your energy, the boys and I were sort of hoping you’d come out for a drink with us after.” He offered as he nudged her shoulder with his own.

“Which boys were thinking that?” Matty asked instantly as he spun around from the mirror.

“Obviously the ones that aren’t you.” Ross stated. “You wanna come out for a few?” He asked again.

“Yeah! I’d love to.” She beamed. The band had been excellent company the last time that she had the pleasure of hanging out with them and she was keen for the chance to get to know them better. “I’ll be finishing later than you guys, though. Probably a couple of hours later as long as that’s okay?” She questioned hesitantly.

“It shouldn-”

“Of course, it’s fine!” Matty interrupted. The two of them glanced over at him, before continuing to chat between themselves.

Eventually, the other two members of The 1975 found their way to the green room, and it wasn’t long after that before she had to regrettably head back to work. As much as they were fun to be around, she had a job to do. They all agreed to head to a nearby bar after the show and that she would meet them there once she’d finished up her shift. She stood up from her spot on their couch, already halfway out of the room before Matty called her name.

“I’ll walk you back to the merch tent?” He offered, not really waiting for a response before getting up out of his seat and walking out with her. “Are you gonna come watch the show?” He asked offhandedly as he lit up a cigarette.

“I can see the stage from merch pretty well, so I’ll probably just stay there.” She shrugged.

“You’re not gonna come up to watch?” He questioned with a ridiculous pout on his face.

“Why? So that you can wink at me any time there’s a mildly suggestive lyric?” She shot back with a laugh. He’d been overly flirty all day today, which was saying something since the usual amount was already pretty high.

“I’m only trying to look out for you, love. I just want to make sure that you can have the best possible view when I take my shirt off during the set.” He said casually. She looked over at him, expecting a wink or suggestive expression or something, but he was just acting like he hadn’t said anything at all.

The rest of the festival went by very quickly. There were a few more customers to serve, then it wasn’t long until The 1975 went on. She couldn’t tell from where she was at merch if Matty had been telling the truth or not, but it was probably better that she wasn’t able to confirm that information. Once their set was finished it seemed that people just wanted to head out of the venue and go home. It was a nice relief to not have an after show rush, it meant that they could begin packing up earlier than expected. By the time that she finally got to the bar that they agreed to meet at, it was just after midnight. She had rushed through a couple of aspects of count out, opting to do the rest tomorrow morning so that she had more time with her friends tonight. The band were incredibly easy to spot as she walked in, namely because Matty was currently in the midst of trying to wrestle a phone away from Adam.

“Just give me the phone, Hann!” He shouted, practically climbing over the table to try and get to it.

“Only when you agree to turn the damn thing off.” He argued as he scooted back in his chair to avoid his prying hands.

“Calm down you two.” She laughed as she walked up to their table. Matty instantly stopped what he was doing, looking up at her in surprise before abruptly sitting back into his seat. As he did, Adam threw the phone over to him without saying another word. She felt like she had interrupted something.

“Good to see you. Take a seat.” George smiled, gesturing to the empty space in the booth next to him. “How was work?” He asked in an attempt to break the tension that had apparently settled around the table.

“We did really well.” She answered with a grin. “How was the show?” She asked back.

“It was also really good!” Ross chimed in as he took a sip from his beer.

“The crowd were rowdy as hell.” George agreed with a nod, before giving Matty a knowing look. His face lit up as he remembered something that had happened during their gig.

“I have the best story for you about what happened when we played Give Yourself a Try-” He began, leaning over the table eagerly as he launched into it.

The conversation flowed easily once George had worked his magic and moved everyone away from Matty’s awkwardness. Adam had taken his phone away from him when he wouldn’t stop checking it for the last hour, waiting for messages about when she was going to get to the bar. Apparently Matty had been unable to recover from the pure shock of seeing the person that he was waiting for magically appear at the table. Normally he was pretty good socially, but once he’d had a few drinks and was staring at things through rose coloured glasses, he could be a right mess. George had a feeling that Matty wasn’t going to own up to that, though. So, for his best friend’s sake, he could get everyone to forget that it had happened. The time passed quickly with the five of them having fun, and it was not long at all before glasses were running empty.

“I think I need another drink.” Matty said, motioning that he wanted to make his way out of the booth.

“Don’t stress! I’ll go get us another round.” Y/N/N offered quickly as she stood up, not wanting to bear witness to another round of her favourite game: Watching Matty Flirt with Bartenders.

As she waited at the counter, the reason that she had gotten up ended up following her anyway. He leaned on the bar, fiddling with the coasters sitting on it. “Come here often?” He asked nonchalantly. She didn’t respond at first, unsure if he was joking or legitimately asking. “Name’s Matty. I’ll buy you a drink?” He offered as he held his hand out for a handshake.

“You’re such a twat.” She laughed, shoving him lightly in the shoulder. He grinned in response, making a mental note that she had probably reacted best to his dorky jokes out of everything else that he had attempted today.

“I came up to help you carry the drinks.” He explained as the bartender brought them over. They scooted back into the booth, handing the drinks out and diving back into the conversation.

It was hard not to notice during their discussions that Matty was pretty good at being the loudest opinion at the table and was also very proficient at talking over his friends. It was especially apparent when he was enthusiastic about a topic. She could see that after two decades of being together, the other three men were just used to it at this point in their lives. George especially seemed to receive the majority of it. As the boys chatted about heading back home tomorrow, she noticed Matty’s arm making its way across the back of the booth behind her. She gave him a sceptical look as he did it, but he didn’t look away from his friend’s conversation. A part of her wondered if maybe he had jumped up to help her at the bar so that they’d have to be sitting next to each other when they came back…

Eventually after a few moments he spoke up. “Admit it.” He said in a low voice as he leant in closer to her.

“Admit what?” She asked in confusion, frowning up at him.

“That you’re into me.” He elaborated as he turned to her with a smirk. Ah. She understood why he had been acting different all day now. He was trying to con her into confessing feelings for him. Not that there was anything to confess.

“What? No.” She laughed.

“But you are.” He argued with a cocky expression, sounding far too sure of himself for comfort.

“Am not.” She maintained.

“Cut it out, kids.” George said to them without looking away from Ross. Matty wasn’t about to argue with George after he bailed him out earlier, but he wasn’t done pushing the point either. He’d need to find more time to talk to her. However, he knew that wasn’t likely to happen tonight.

By nearly two in the morning, they collectively decided that they should begin winding up their night. She had started work at nine that morning and the fifteen-hour work day was quickly catching up with her. And the band had a flight to catch the next day. The five of them stood outside the bar, watching as the last few stragglers made their way home. George, Ross and Adam all said their goodbyes, exchanging hugs and saying that they were looking forward to seeing her again at some point. They took a few polite steps away, giving Matty the chance to say bye without them hanging around to give him shit for it.

“You’re welcome to come back to the hotel.” Matty suggested with an eyebrow raised. She let out a sigh, ready to decline the offer but he continued. “For real, though, funny business aside. The hotel is closer to here than your place.” He said, his tone instantly switching from joking to serious.

“It’s okay, I’d rather get a good night’s sleep in my own bed.” She replied. “I have to finish up a few things with the stock tomorrow back at the warehouse, anyway. Thank you, though.” She added with a smile.

“It’s all right.” He nodded, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. “Was good seeing you, as always. Get home safe.” He said as he pulled her in for a tight hug. He still had that familiar smell of stage sweat clinging to him around his usual combination of weed and charity shop clothes. As soon as he moved back, she was already missing his company. Any day with him always ended up being an exceptional one and she hadn’t realised how much she missed being around him until he was back again. If she was totally honest with herself, a part of her probably was into him. But she was glad that she wouldn’t have to see him for a while and deal with that. Having feelings for someone like him would not be fun to confront. He turned and started walking back to his friends, already writing the text messages in his head that he had to send off tomorrow.

Last Chapter

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#Matthew Healy x Reader #Matty Healy x Reader #Sunsetinmyvein

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mysweetestcreature · 5 years

Text

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 1: Had Me from Hello

(Banner by the wonderful noblewomankat <3)

***

Masterlist

***

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

The car parks right at the entrance of the school, where some students are gathered around making conversation and trying to out-do the other in who’s had the most exotic vacation, while others swarm through the doors on a mission to get back into the flow of the semester. Harry eyes the building up and down from the window cautiously. Don’t get him wrong, he’s ecstatic to be attending Ashwood Prep this year, especially considering the fact he received a hefty amount of scholarship money when he had gotten accepted. It’s just that being the new kid at a K12 school might as well be like getting thrown into open water when all one knows is how to backstroke.

“I could drive around the block again, if you’d like?” Harry snorts at the suggestion as he turns back to his mum. “I can just feel anxiety coming off your aura,” she adds, circling her hand just around the side of his head. Over the last few months, she’s been very interested in trying to read his aura, whatever that means (he isn’t sure how this obsession started, but he’ll admit that she’s getting quite good).

“Mum...” he whines, shrinking further into the leather of his seat as he covers his face from any overly curious eyes that may find him and his mother a little too interesting.

Anne feigns offense and lets out a dramatic huff. “Not even a day in high school, and he’s already ashamed to be seen with me.”

Both remain silent for the time being, and only the chatter from outside fills the void of unsaid between them. It’s when Harry takes the chance and subtly tries to take a peek at her from the corner of his eye, does he find her doing the exact same. They burst into giggles, and Harry shakes his head as he sits up. Once he’s recovered, his gaze falls back towards the window, where the number of students has decreased in just a matter of minutes.

“’m nervous,” he admits despondently a few seconds later.

A hand falls over his, squeezing it tight as its thumb pads over his skin to calm him. “And that’s completely normal, but, darling –– it’s going to be alright. I know this because I know you, and you’re never one to back down. Besides, I think you look quite handsome in your uniform.” He’s dressed in black dress pants topped off with a white polo, a cool-toned dark blue cardigan and a black tie with school’s emblem printed in the middle.

As Harry lets the rest of Anne’s words sink in, he thinks about how he’d been in this position not even two years ago. A year and eight months ago, to be exact, he’d moved from his childhood home in Holmes Chapel in England to New Jersey. Anne had received a stellar job opportunity as marketing head at a consumer goods company, and Harry and his sister, Gemma, felt like that had to support her in this new chapter of her life. Unfortunately, that included leaving behind their friends, family, and all that they’ve ever known. So, in mid-January, he’d been the new kid to insert himself into the seventh-grade at JW Middle School. For the most part, everyone in his year had been kind enough, sans those few jerks who made fun of the way he talked and yelled ‘bloody hell’ whenever they’d see him in the halls or at lunch, but even that only lasted for a month. Other than that, he felt as though he’d really tried to make the best out of their situation.

Now here he is again, in nearly an identical position as the last. It’s a lot better now, he supposes. For starters, he’s starting school on the first day, so he’s sure there are going to be at least a dozen new students like him. By now, he’s also used to living in Jersey (loves it, his mum would say), even knows all the best diners within a thirty-mile radius of his house and where to get the freshest bagels on a Saturday morning.

The eighth grade had even been immensely enjoyable for him, he had made a lot of friends, had his first kiss, and he even graduated salutatorian of the class, only falling a thousandth of a decimal behind Andrea Chung.

“You know what? You’re right, mum. I can so do this,” he affirms himself.

“Hey, I didn’t say to be cocky,” Anne teases, pinching his cheeks before she unlocks the doors. “Now, get out of my car. I have a meeting in less than an hour, and I still need to stop for coffee. Love you!”

Harry lets his feet fall onto the sidewalk toes first, and pulls the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. Ashwood Prep looks even bigger now that he’s stood on the ground. Everyone is dressed in their uniforms, but of course there are those who obviously chose to customize theirs. He looks to his left, and swallows hard as Anne’s Mercedes merges onto the main road. “This is it,” he tells himself. This is where he’ll be spending the next four years of his life.

Suddenly, he feels something knock into his back, causing him to stumble a few steps forward.

“Oof!”

Before he can catch a glimpse and ask if whoever it was is okay, a figure manages to dodge his eyes as she speeds off up the stairs.

“I’m so sorry!” the girl yells back at him, but all he can really make out is the side of her face and a silver and pink checkered scrunchie that holds her hair back in a half do style. “But I have to get these ready before Pattern A or else Mr. N is totally gonna be on my back about it!” Her echo sounds panicked as she disappears into the building, and even the students still remaining towards the entrance part a path for her to pass.

“You’re fine!” he shouts after her.

***

“You’ll find that your locker assignments and schedules are laid out for you in alphabetical order,” the homeroom teacher, Mr. Bartolome says in his most unenthusiastic tone. “If you have any questions...ask each other.” Harry heads towards the back in search of his last name, until he finds it at a desk right by the window, its position is in perfect view of the entire room. There are some small things he notices, like how the walls have barely a scratch on them and how the floors are so we'll polished that even the slightest of movements elicits a squeak.

Just as he takes his seat, a voice booms from beside him. “Excuse me!” His head leads the rest of his body as he pivots on his heel. A girl with magnificent auburn hair tied back in a high ponytail and freckles that dance across her face almost perfectly stares inquisitively at him. “You’re new, right? I’m Zoey”

“Oh, uh...yeah. I’m Harry,” he replies with a polite nod. As he sits down, he can feel Zoey’s eyes scan him up and down.

“Wait!” she gasps, her mouth falling open. “Are you...are you from England?” She looks at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to say that he’s related to the Queen or Churchill or something just as outrageous as that.

He nods before speaking. “Cheshire,” he replies, but she stares at him blankly. “It’s North from London.”

“Oh,” she tries to hide her disappointment. “Well, if you need help with anything, you can always ask me.”

“Thanks,” he offers her a tight-lipped grin. She sends him a wink in return before turning to her friend seated to her other side.

Harry takes the opportunity to look down at the gridded schedule laid out before him. Thank god he’d looked over his schedule ahead a time when it was posted online because it had taken him about an hour to fully comprehend, and if he’s being honest, Mr. Bartolome kind of scares him. The school works on a 6-day cycle, and each class is referred to as a ‘pattern’ rather than a ‘period’. Each day, one subject drops, and the one that had dropped the day before is added in at the beginning. He looks up at the board, where Mr. Bartolome has written an outline of how today is going to work out. Day 1, it says in green marker, followed by the order of classes. Harry looks back down at his schedule, and his eyes linger on his Pattern A.

***

His first class of the day just happens to be his favorite subject. Harry isn’t sure what it is, but he loves reading and learning about the past and drawing maps of how the past has contributed and affected the present. It might be because his grandad had been a university history professor at Oxford and would tell Harry tales from World War 2 in place of the usual bedtime stores (that’s not to say that Harry isn’t well versed in fairytales, of course).

Luckily there hadn’t been assigned seating, so Harry was able to snag a table in the third row when he had first come in. The seats are now slowly filling up as the rest of the class staggers in a few tired looking students at a time, and the teacher makes it a point to note that it’s the first day...the first class of the day nonetheless! Harry recognizes a few from homeroom, like the boy who had dared asked Mr. Bartolome a question, and Zoey, who flirtatiously waves at him with before being forced into the back by a few of her friends.

Their teacher pushes out of his chair and heads to the whiteboard. He takes a dry erase marker in his hand, and in big letters writes what looks to be his name, but Harry can barely make it out without squinting his eyes.

“Welcome to US History Honors!” he exclaims. “As I’ve just written in my embarrisingly horrendous handwriting...which is why we’re definitely using PowerPoint, so I don’t get a billion emails about what’s written, don’t worry...I’m Mr. Noone!”

Mr. Noone walks over to the door, but just as he’s about to shut it to start the lesson, someone calls out to him from the hall. “Wait! I’m here, I’m here!” Everyone watches as the elderly man lets out a knowing sigh, shoulders falling in defeat, but it’s followed by a genuine chuckle as the final student speeds into the room.

“Sorry, Mr. N!” she says, still trying to catch her breath. Harry immediately eyes the same pink and grey scrunchie that had knocked into him earlier. “But I had to wait for these to cool before packing them up or else all the sugar would fall off!” In her hands is a medium-sized Tupperware, and he recognizes the faint yet alluring scent of freshly baked treats.

“Earl grey short bread?” Mr. Noone cocks a brow at her as he finally shuts the door. “I don’t accept tardiness for just any average cookie.”

The girl shakes her head animatedly. “I’m insulted that you even have to ask that question!” Mr. Noone strolls towards his desk with his hands behind his back, then peaks over the top of the container. A pleased expression dances across his face as his fingers fish for a scrumptious cookie to bite in to, and he’s even more ecstatic as the shortbread touches his palate.

“You did good, kid. Now find a seat before I write you up for loitering,” he threatens lightly, and the girl lets out a little huff as she turns around.

And that’s when Harry finally sees her face.

His stomach flips over, and he’s left in that awkward position of will he or won’t he see this morning’s breakfast again (and he’d eaten a hefty meal). Her eyes have a glimmer to them, like a star on top of a Christmas tree or better yet, the real ones he watches from his bedroom window when he can’t fall asleep. He’s so in awe that he stops breathing when those sparkling eyes land on the empty seat right beside him. Whatever amusement he’d been feeling when he’d first sat down is now replaced with something else. It’s like heat that creeps up to his neck originating from the base of his spine.

The closer she gets, the sweatier his palms become, so bad that he has trouble keeping his pen firm in his grasp. “Hi, I’m Y/n!” she says as she stops in front of him, a warm smile embedded on her lips and a warmth that seems to radiate off her so naturally. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit here?”

“Y-yeah, I mean, no! I mean, of course. It’s...it’s all yours.” What was that?! Jesus Christ, Harry. It’s like you’ve never talked to a girl before! She giggles as he trips over his words, but thanks him graciously before sliding into the seat and getting herself comfortable. He tenses at her presence being so close to him and he couldn’t tell you why. “Harry,” he blurts out like vomit.

“What?” She looks up from digging through her bag.

He bites on the inside of his cheek, suddenly feeling conscious under this self-imposed pressure. “My name’s Harry,” and he shyly repeats before turning back to the board.

Y/n tilts her head at him, and the soft smile returns to her face. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

At that, he’s finally able to breathe normally. He steals a couple glances at her as she sets everything down on their table, and he notices how her lips quirk to the side as she sets everything down with such precision. A printed Beatles-themed pencil case catches his eye, and he smiles to himself as he thinks fondly to all the times his grandad had played their records over and over.

“I love the Beatles,” he says almost as a whisper, but she picks up on it and perks up immediately.

“They’re my favorite band and all I listen to most days.” She picks up the pouch and twirls it in her hands. “My dad brought this back when he visited London a few years ago. I’ve never been, but hopefully one day!” There’s hope in her voice as she stares sheepishly at the print.

“Alright!” Their conversation is cut short as Mr. Noone chews up his last bit of cookie. “Now that that’s taken care of, let’s start class!” A projection screen starts to pull down over the whiteboard, followed by a slowly brightening white light. “While we’re waiting for this to load, I want you to take a good look at who you’re sitting next to because you’ll be partnering up for various projects and presentations over the course of the year.”

***

After class, Harry sits back as he watches a bulk of his classmates file out of the room en route to their next destination. As their voices carry out into the halls, it’s just him and a few others left, including Y/n, who appears to be taking her sweet time packing everything up in her bag.

“So,” the “o” carries out longer than he’d anticipated. He scratches the back of his neck as he searches for something, anything, he can say to her, so she doesn’t think he’s a complete and utter fool for not being able to speak without fumbling over his own tongue. “I’m not really sure where my next class is.”

“Oh!” Her eyes grow wide as she zips up her backpack. “I could help you, if you’d like?” And gosh, does his chest pound when she leans in close and takes a peek at his schedule in front of him on the table. “You’re actually just on the second floor!” she exclaims, pointing up towards the ceiling. “I’m like ninety-seven percent sure it’s the third door on the right if you take the stairs right outside this room.”

Harry takes a quick mental note of her instructions before pushing out of his chair. “Thank you,” he starts, and both of them head towards the door, with her leading the way.

Just as she takes one step outside, she suddenly turns around, and Harry nearly crashes into her. “I’ll be back for my Tupperware, Mr. N! There’s no way I’m letting you swipe another one from under my nose!” The old man waves her off and mutters something under his breath that Harry thinks might have been a “whatever you say”. Y/n looks up at him, and signals for them to continue into the hall.

“He’s a real sweetheart,” she says as they climb up the stairs.

“Who?”

“Mr. Noone,” she explains. “I think you’ll really like him! His classes are pretty chill for the most part and he’s super understanding, too. Like last year I had the flu for about a week and a half since my brother had gotten me sick because his whole kindergarten class had come down with for some strange reason, and Mr. N was the only teacher who didn’t have me make up any work.”

“Yeah?” he smiles at her.

She promptly shakes her head in confirmation. “Yeah! He just gave me this mini test with all the material I’d missed, and he even gave me a study guide to study off to help me with it!” Her face falls into a small frown when they stop in front Harry’s next class. “Oh, well I guess this is you.” She digs her foot into the marbled floor as she peeks into the room. “It was nice talking to you, Harry! I’ll see you around!” she says with a more upbeat tone.

“Bye, and thanks again for helping me get to class. It probably cut down the anxiety time by at least two minutes,” he confesses, a slight blush spreading around the area of his nose. She smiles before heading her own way, and he doesn’t know why he feels this sudden decline in his mood as she grows further and further. He just stands there, watching her walk down the corridor while the rest of the students laze into the classroom. Just as he’s about to head in, he chances one last look in her direction, and it’s just in time see her looking over her shoulder.

***

Harry’s managed to make himself a new friend in Debate class. His name is Max, and he’d been a transfer student from JW the year before Harry had started attending. They bonded over that, as well as a mutual love for movies made during the Classical Hollywood period (they’ve even made plans to watch a Hitchcock film this weekend), and even how they live in the same neighborhood –– a few streets apart, to be more specific!

“I think it’s cool that you have an accent,” Max says to him as they stop at Harry’s locker before heading to lunch. Harry empties out his books from his first three classes. It’s no wonder his back had been aching, he’d forgotten to take out his US Politics textbook, and he doesn’t even have that class today. He’d had a free (also with Max) before this, and he’d managed to finish up all the readings and homework for history and biology that are all due tomorrow. He likes to be efficient with his time, especially when the teachers start putting on a heftier workload. “Did you see how all those girls freaked when you introduced yourself? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it!”

“Everyone has an accent, mate. It’s just mine sounds a lot different from yours.” Everyone in Debate had freaked over the way he spoke, and as Max had pointed out, it had garnered a lot of attention from some of the girls in class.

“No need to get all technical with me. You have a gift, my friend. Use it wisely.” Harry shuts his locker, and the two continue towards the cafeteria. This morning, Anne had packed him his favorite roast beef and swiss on rye, a tradition on the first day of school that they’ve kept since he was small. Although, Max had been going on about how amazing the food here was, which is hard to believe that any school lunch can be anything but subpar, so he may have to test that out, as well. On the way there, they turn into a hallway, and are immediately hit with a sweet-smelling aroma of cinnamon and brown sugar.

Harry stops just outside the door, humming happily to himself as he pictures whatever magic is happening on the other side. “Kitchen?” He points in its direction with his thumb.

“Home economics room,” his friend smirks. “A friend spends a hell of a lot of time in there. She’s a really good baker, I can’t even count how many of her lemon bars I’ve had since I started going here.”

***

Y/n is late for lunch, but it’s really not her fault! She got caught up in decorating a cake with fondant roses and fancy piping that she been working on all period long because she wanted to impress Miss Genevra with a new technique that she had learned at a baking seminar she’d taken over the summer. And it turned out nearly perfect (there was one flower that looked a tad lopsided, but only Y/n fussed over it), and the flavor was just as impressive.

All that aside, she now only has about ten minutes left to buy lunch and scarf it all down before her Pattern J starts, and she still has to stop by her locker to get her art kit and sketchbook, not to mention she has to make time to hound Mr. N for her Tupperware back, or else her dad will throw another fit.

So, she quickly grabs a Snapple and a basket of chicken tenders from the hot rack, then brings it all to the cashier. A woman, about forty years old sits on her stool, and smiles at Y/n as she approaches. “Hi, Layla!” Y/n greets her, handing her over a crisp ten-dollar bill. “How was your trip to Ecuador? I’m sure Benny and Sammy loved it!” Benny and Sammy are Layla’s twin boys that Y/n babysits from time to time when Layla and her partner go out for a date night. They’re about her brother’s age, so Mason is always so happy when she brings him along to their house for an impromptu playdate.

Layla smiles, handing back her change of four dollars and fifty cents. “They did! Thanks for asking, sweetheart.” She stares down at her watch, then gives the young girl a knowing look. “Now you better finish that up before your next class. I think I saw Maxxie sitting somewhere in the back.”

“Oh, thanks for the heads up! And by the way...” Y/n looks into her bag and pulls out a stack of fudge bars neatly wrapped in tin foil. “The boys’ favorite! Made fresh today.”

“Ah! You’re just an angel, aren’t you?” Layla gushes before sending her on her way.

Y/n searches for Maxxie’s mop of dirty blonde hair as she maneuvers around all the busy tables. They’d met a few years ago, and she considers him to be one of her best friends. He’d texted her earlier saying he’d be bringing a friend to sit with them at lunch, and that he was totally cute and had a smile that would surely make her weak at the knees. Think Zach Anderson, but 100x better, his message had read. She smiles widely when she sees him.

“So, last night I saw this movie made in like the 40s and I totally got this ince-” She cover his eyes with her hands and does her best to bite back the erupting giggles.

“Guess who?”

“Well, you smell strongly of vanilla and...” He takes a long whiff through his nose. “...and...is that orange zest?”

“Lemon, but close enough, I guess.” Y/n takes the empty seat on his right. Maxxie leans in for a hug, and only then does she notice the familiar company.

“Hey, you! I was beginning to think you’d drowned in a tub of frosting or something,” he jokes, picking something out of her hair before settling back. He turns to his left. “This is-”

“Harry,” she says it like it’s a dream. Gosh! When she’d met him earlier, she did everything she could to stay with it, when all she really wanted to do was scream into a pillow about how unrealistically green his eyes are. Instead, she thinks she might have overshared some details with a complete stranger because regardless of how cute she thinks he is –– and that’s very much –– she doesn’t know one thing about him besides his name.

“Y/n, hi,” Harry replies just as whimsically. They hold eye contact for a while, but as Y/n feels the heat begin to rise from her neck to her cheeks, she soon turns away and begins to pick at her chicken, while Harry bites his lips inward and looks down into his lap to check his phone.

The boy in between them looks back and forth between the two. His eyebrows rise to his forehead and his mouth parts slightly in confusion.

“So... I’m guessing you’ve met?”

***

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