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venushasvixens · 4 years

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Ch. 6 Confliction - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I really want to give a huge, huge thank you to @tebdundy on tumblr for editing and dealing with my constant check ups and stuff, you are so amazing for helping me. It means a whole lot. You can find more of me on instragram, wattpad, and AO3 (under the same username). Okay, onto the chapter!

WARNING: a lot of angst, rejection

Your ship was on fire. Every belonging, every single thing you had worked so hard for was gone. Your guns, clothes, even appliances you had never given a second thought, gone. And it hit you like a shot. The moment you took in that your ship was on fire, you shut down. Your mind began to wander. What did I do to deserve this? Why is this happening to me?

The next thing you could remember was Spike shaking your shoulders to snap you back to reality. You struggled to form a response. You tried to open your mouth, give some indication that you could feel and see him. In reality, the only thing you could really feel was a dull ache in your spine, each vertebrae mounting with an odd, uncomfortable pain.

The shock was setting in.

You blinked, eyes glassy as you watched firefighters put your ship out of her misery. There was no noise. You couldn't feel your fingertips, your face. You couldn't feel anything. Just that dull ache creeping up your spine.

Thoughts spiraled through your aching head, moving so quickly you could hardly keep up. It felt like you were at war with yourself, trying to keep yourself conscious and cognizant of the situation, while you sank deeper and deeper into your head.

This is just a small hiccup.

Just an obstacle that needed to be conquered, a hurdle you needed to jump over.

This is all your fault, you’ll never bounce back.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

Maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid.

You always ruin everything for yourself.

You might as well give up now.

There’s no coming back from this one.

You’re a disappointment.

You’ve failed.

It ate you up like a starving monster devouring a poor soul who crossed its path. Dark tendrils of shame, anger, and sadness weaved into your head, wrapping around your mind and tightening with every passing second. You were going to drown.

Push it down. Push it down. Grieve later. Think now. Grieve later. Think now.

You needed to figure out what you were going to do next. You needed to get out of your head. You desperately tried to claw your way out of this state. Taking a deep breath, you tried to make sense of the chaos around you.

You were sitting on the ground, a blanket draped over your shoulders. You felt the cold stone of the dock under your legs, felt the itchiness of the thick wool wrapped around you. You watched as Jet ran over to Spike, shouting over the sounds of panic that had flooded your head just moments before. Spike was staring at you, his face riddled with concern. You heard him call your name. You didn’t respond.

It was usually so hard to read him, to figure out what he was feeling. But now, it was so incredibly clear. You saw the emotions flashing in his eyes as he called for you again. Loss, guilt, despair, mania, heartbreak.

You felt Jet’s strong hand on your shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Hey kid, you okay?" He said, his brows furrowed.

You swallowed. Do not cry. Do not cry. Wait until you're alone. Push it down.

"I think...I think— a glass of water."

"How much do you have?"

"About 200,000 woolong."

"Well, that ain't much."

"Well, I wasn’t expecting to lose everything I own."

You sipped your coffee slowly as you, Spike and Jet discussed a solution to your giant, unavoidable problem. No matter how much you told them that you were okay and could take care of yourself, they insisted on helping you. Deep down, you appreciated it, because you definitely weren’t okay and wouldn’t be able to take care of yourself, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself.

You picked at the eggs on your plate, imagining sleeping in your own bed right now. Wearing your favorite shirt. Eating breakfast in your small kitchen. Watching the morning news in your room. Maybe have someone with you, showing him everything you owned like an excited child because you were so proud of how far you came from your first bounty to now. Things you’ll never be able to do again.

You felt silly and materialistic, mourning the loss of your belongings. But when you worked so hard for something you wanted for so long, building it up over the years, and losing it all in seconds? It's very hard to not mourn.

You had tried to pack light, to not become attached to material possessions. That was one of the first things that you were told by other bounty hunters. When you had first considered entering this god-forsaken profession, you sought out the help of any bounty hunter you came across, trying to glean any useful knowledge from those more experienced than you. You got too comfortable and started to ignore that piece of advice, and now you’re crying over some clothes and dishes.

But your keepsakes, your souvenirs. Ties to your troubled past. Memories of old friends, places, and happy times. Gone, burnt to a crisp.

"How much is a night stay here in town?" You spoke up, interrupting Spike and Jet’s bickering.

"You don't even want to know. The further you go into the city, the worse the rates are. I looked at a couple of places, and it does not look good." Jet replied, taking a sip from his mug.

"And staying on the streets isn't too good either," Spike muttered.

"Wasn't planning on it, but thanks for the advice." You snapped back.

The tension was thick in the air between you and Spike. Maybe it was because of your interrupted intimacy from the previous night, or the fact that neither of you had slept for the past 24 hours. But you couldn't understand why he was taking his frustration out on you. You hadn’t planned for your ship to burn to ash. You didn’t want to be a burden.

"I have a suggestion. Well, more of a proposal." Jet said.

You perked up. "And what's that?" Even before Jet could say anything, you already felt guilty about it.

"You can stay with us on the Bebop until you find your feet again."

You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do what now?!" Spike hissed softly.

"But, "Jet held up his hand to Spike, who sighed loudly, annoyed. "I have a few conditions."

It kind of pissed you off how Spike was reacting to all of this. Actually, kind of was an understatement. It really pissed you off, almost offended you on how he was acting. Just a few hours ago, he was desperate to get into your pants, and now he was throwing a hissy fit at the thought of you living on the Bebop. Isn't this a good thing, you being able to spend more time together?

"Just contribute to the Bebop. Whenever you cash in a bounty, set some aside for fuel, food, all that good jazz. Maybe cook dinner sometimes, or clean the bathroom. Other than that, don’t worry about it." Jet said.

A cloud of suspicion settled across your thoughts.

"That's it?" You asked, “Are you sure?”

Jet chuckled. “There’re other rules, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I have a feeling you know how to respect other people’s spaces and belongings. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

You glanced at Spike, who was leaning back, staring out the window. He met your gaze, eyes unreadable once again. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt like an entirely new person, one who just wanted you to piss off and leave him to his business. You tried to shrug off his sudden coldness, but it bothered you. It stung.

The walk back to the Bebop wasn't too bad, but trying to initiate a conversation with Spike was difficult. All he did was grunt in response, a few "oh yeah”s and “huh”s thrown in for good measure. You hoped it was because he was tired, and not that he was pissed off that you were going to be invading his space.

The guilt was heavy on your shoulders. You certainly weren’t a freeloader, but you couldn't help but feel like you had already overstayed your welcome. And you haven’t even stepped foot on the ship yet. You didn't want Spike to be distant from you. Even though you had just met him, you wanted him to be closer to you than anyone else. You wanted to reach out to him, hold onto him and never let him go. Instead, he was pushing you away.

You weren’t good with rejection. Rejection defined who you were today and had been a driving factor to almost everything in your life. You had managed to take ahold of those haunting feelings and build them into a hard shell to protect yourself, vowing to never show your vulnerability or true feelings. You had pushed the old version of you so deep down that it would never escape. You had been doing so well, but the last few days had shown you that the hard work you put into being a completely emotionless bitch was all for nothing.

Jet was going into an extensive explanation of the ship, where you could take a shower, where your room was. He explained that the Bebop was once a fishing ship from Ganymede, and how he had fixed it up to be a high-tech, fully functional ship of today (his words, not yours).

"She operates well when treated right. However, some of our crew members would say otherwise." Jet grumbled. "Speaking of, did Faye tell you-"

"I haven't seen Faye since two days ago. Her ship was still gone, the last I saw." Spike muttered, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "Besides, why do you care?"

Jet held up his hands. "It was just a question. Jeez." Spike muttered something in response.

You suddenly remembered the bounty on Faye’s head, but it didn’t really matter right now. That was all on the back burner for now, seeing as every plan you could think of required a ship that wasn’t the one Faye was living on. And you really didn't want to make enemies of your new crew this early on. All you cared about right now was taking a shower to wash all of last night's events off you and getting some shut-eye.

You wondered whether Jet was aware of your previous intentions of collecting the big bounty on Faye. You had asked him if Faye was joining the group for dinner last night, with no context. There was no answer, but that also could mean he took in what you said and was processing what you really intended to do if Faye did show up at the dinner. Remembering your first meeting with Spike, he told you clearly he doesn't care if she got captured or not. So you have two people who are on opposite ends of the discussion. One is in charge of the Bebop and which bounties to pursue, and the other one likes to smoke and philosophize.

The obvious correct choice was clear, but you decide to choose the latter.

"When you come in, don't be too surprised by some of our unique characters." Jet remarked. "You've already met us two, but there are a few more along the way."

"I like to think I'm also a unique character, so we should get along." You replied happily, a tint of exhaustion underlying in your words. Spike scoffed, walking over to open the small hatch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You snapped, a full night's worth of frustration threatening to overflow in the form of obscenities and insults.

"Are you talking to me?" Spike said over his shoulder, punching in the security numbers on the small pad. The hatch to the side of the Bebop creaked open, landing on the stone pier with a hard thunk. "I’m tired. And when I’m tired, I don’t put my energy into pulling punches and being nice.Got it, (Y/N)?"

You bit down on your tongue. "Never mind. What were you saying, Jet?"

You could hear a quiet, "Yeah that's what I thought." echoing up into the Bebop. Rolling it off your shoulders, you turned your focus to Jet as you both walked into the ship.

Opening a round metal door, you looked up to see a dimming bulb illuminating the cylinder passage. The walls were yellowing, patched with dark, aging metal, and littered with hazard signs. Jet walked over to a ladder bolted on the wall and began to climb.

"I'll tell you, you’ll get a real workout just getting around this ship." Jet laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"Are there a lot of these around the ship?" You said, following.

"Oh yeah, plenty. But if you stay in the living area, you don’t really need to worry about them. I'll show you around anyway, just in case we need you to get something. We wouldn’t want you to get lost." Jet smiled.

He hopped into the center gravity passage, holding out his hand to you. You grabbed it gratefully, not realizing how much of a drop it was to the floor of the tube until you looked back down.

"Oh damn." You exclaimed, looking down. "That's pretty far."

"It’s just 15 feet. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you." Jet chuckled, closing the metal door. "Alright, so this is the lower gravity passage. It leads to the living area, that includes bedrooms, kitchen and living room, and to the storage area."

Spike was nowhere to be seen in the passage. You assumed he was already in the living room, smoking before heading off to bed. Jet opened a sliding metal door marked “Storage”. You peered into the dark room.

"This is where we keep extra ammunition, supplies, and medical boxes.”

Jet pressed a button next to the storage door, one that opened to the living area. The walls were a gradient blue color, illuminated with warm lighting. The staircase was a dark, metallic gold leading to a dark blue platform. On the floor was a yellow couch, and across from it was a single matching seat. In between them sat a knee-level coffee table with a holoTV, a computer, and someone's breakfast. Jet walked in first, stepping down. "This is the living room.” He pointed to the set on top of the table. “You’re welcome to use the holoTV and the computer, everybody shares them.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure whose breakfast that is, but don’t touch it. People are pretty possessive of food on this ship.”

Right as you took a step in, you heard the light pattering of paws bouncing into the living room. From a staircase leading down, two small light brown ears popped up. Then two big brown eyes peered over, searching for the source of commotion in the room.

"You guys have a dog?!" You asked, practically jumping down the stairs. The small Welsh corgi was seemingly just as excited as you were, running and tripping up the stairs to meet you. You extended your hand, letting him sniff you.

Jet chuckled. "Cute little thing, isn't he? His name is Ein."

"Oh, he's adorable. Who’s a good boy?" You cooed, bending down to rub Ein's ears. He stretched his head out, his little stumpy tail going a hundred miles a minute.

"And usually tagging along with Ein is-" Jet was interrupted by the pounding footsteps coming from downstairs.

"They're back, they're back, they're back!" a scrawny red-headed kid rejoiced, waving their arms about. "Ed was worried, but now Jet’s back, and Ed is okay again!"

The kid's smile stretched from ear to ear, clearly more than ecstatic to see Jet back home. They grabbed the plate from on top of the table and plopped down next to a box with a computer on top. They gobbled up what was left of their food, before bending their head back to get a look at you. "Who are you?"

"This is (Y/N), they're going to be staying on the Bebop for a little bit." Jet replied, walking over to the table. He turned back to you. "Ed is a computer genius and a damn good hacker. You ever need someone to work out some malicious malware, Ed’s your girl."

“Hi, it's nice to meet you." You said, giving Ed a small smile and a wave. She scampered over to you on all fours with her behind high in the air, chattering to herself.

“Stranger, changer, danger! Hihi...”

You laughed nervously, glancing back at Jet, who was standing with his arms crossed, looking amused. The girl stopped at your feet. “Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth,” she said matter of factly. Ed grabbed your hand and sniffed. You had met some oddballs in your time, but this one took the cake. She made a face and jumped back, her hands covering her nose and mouth. "Ed thinks you stink!"

You sucked in air between your teeth. Did you really smell that bad, or was it another talent of this child prodigy? That’s so embarrassing. "Is it that noticeable?"

Jet half-smiled. "Doesn't bother me none. Thought I wouldn’t mention it till you could do somethin about it."

He was just going to let you find out later? No wonder Spike didn't want to be anywhere near you. It wasn’t even your first day of being on the Bebop, and you were not making a great first impression.

"Let me show you the kitchen." Jet motioned for you to follow up a small set of stairs through a large circular door frame leading down a small hallway. You turned into the kitchen, completed with a fridge, stove, oven, and a small countertop. The kitchen was dark, the only light in the room was the dimming orange ashes of Spike's cigarette falling on the floor. He was leaning against the countertop, staring down at his cig.

"There you are, Spike." Jet flipped the lights on, revealing a slightly disorderly kitchen. Spike winced, covering his eyes.

"Jesus, Jet give me a warning next time," Spike mumbled, his voice deep and raspy. Your annoyance and anger at him suddenly disappeared. That voice. You wanted to hear that voice again. You wanted to put your hand on his chest and feel the vibrations of that voice. Every time you tried to find some way to be mad at him again, he just had to stand there, looking cool and intoxicatingly seductive. You craved him like an alcoholic craved whiskey.

"Are you finished with the grand tour?" Spike asked, his heavy-lidded eyes looking away from you and Jet.

"Not yet, but I was hoping you could finish it."

"I’m not in the mood for hospitality right now. I'm going to bed." Spike said, making his way to the door.

"Just show her on the way there. And be nice, she's our guest." Jet warned, sorting the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

"Yeah, show me some respect." You teased. But Spike clearly was not in the mood. Instead, he turned away from you, rolling his eyes, and walked out of the kitchen

Jet patted you on the back. "Give him a minute, he'll come around."

"Thank you for everything, Jet. It means a lot." You smiled.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Go ahead and get some rest. If anything comes up, I'll send the cavalry after you." He said, gesturing to the living room.

You took a deep breath before heading out of the kitchen. Ed was sitting motionless in a trance-like state, her eyes engulfed with giant goggles. Ein lay peacefully on the couch, watching as you followed Spike down the steps into the living room.

This was the first time you and Spike had been alone since last night. Just hours ago, you were definitely not afraid to touch him. Now, you didn't even want to take a step near him.

"Are you coming or what?" Spike called out impatiently, already halfway downstairs to the lower part of the living area. "I don't have all day."

"I'm here." You raced over, gliding your hand down the rail. Spike continued his way down, turning around a corner. The walk down the hallway was quiet, the silence uncomfortable. Neither of you wanted to do small talk. Spike probably didn’t want to talk at all, but you had to know. You had to ask him.

"Spike?” you asked quietly. You wrung your fingers around each other anxiously. Spike stayed silent, his quick pace faltering before coming to a stop in front of a door.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” You finally asked. Spike seemed to tense up, his jaw clenching. Deciding to press on further, you continued.

“I umm,” you mumbled, “I may have been drunk and you probably were too, but why are you so cold to me now when we were literally about f-“

“This is the bathroom. It has a tub and a shower.” Spike interrupted. Your heart dropped to your stomach. So much for answers. “There should be some clean towels. You can wash your clothes upstairs, Jet can show you where the washer is. Your room’s gonna be the first door you see when you reach the top of the stairs. It’ll be all yours till you leave.”

Spike puffed out a cloud of smoke before making his way slowly down the hallway. You looked at him in disbelief. He definitely remembers. And he’s rejecting it. You and him. Cutting it off before it starts, pushing you away.

You stepped into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind you before tears of anger and resentment started to fall down your face. How can you feel so much emotion for someone who shows none? You lost your home and belongings. You didn’t want to lose anything else.

After a long hot shower, you stood in front of the mirror, combing your fingers through your hair. You were going to have to get essentials eventually, a comb and a toothbrush would be nice. But that would have to wait. You rubbed circles on your temple, your impending exhaustion headache approaching fast.

After drying yourself off, you slipped your old clothes back on. It felt awful putting dirty clothes on your clean body, but you were not about to walk around the ship in a towel. You had already dug yourself a deep enough hole with Spike, you didn’t want to traumatize Jet, the kid, or the dog.

As you wrapped your hair in a towel, you heard shouting from outside. You combed through who it could be. Spike and Jet. Or Jet and Ed. Or Spike and Ein, or Ein and Ed. There were quite a few combinations.

“First fight on the Bebop.” You muttered to yourself. “So excited.”

This was so ridiculous, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. All you had to do was walk past and not get involved. Unless it was about you, then you would at least try to defend yourself. You opened the door, listening intently.

“What the fuck-“ more shouting. “And you bastards decide to tell me now?!” A shrill female voice was yelling. A table got knocked over. You could hear stomping and more shouting. “Well, where the hell are they?!”

Whoop, time to hide.

You shut the door and the latch clicked with a loud cathunk. You hoped they hadn’t heard it. You were down a big hallway, there was no way that they could’ve heard it. You had a pretty good idea of who the screaming was coming from, and you were not ready to meet her right now.

The sounds of stomping grew louder, getting closer to the bathroom door. Your fight-or-flight mode started to set in. With how pissed she sounded, stomping and roaring, this may as well be a life-or-death situation.

You rolled your neck, stretching your arms out. If you needed to defend yourself, you were going to have to do it bare-knuckled. No guns, knives, bars of soap, nothing. You flexed your hands, cracking your knuckles. You planted yourself in front of the door. The footsteps outside stopped. This was it! You were ready for anything.

Bam!

The door slid open. Faye Valentine stood on the other side, hands on her hips. She was panting from her ranting and raving in the other room. She smiled, her eyes a little too wide. You couldn’t tell if she was happy, crazy, or surprised.

“Hi there, you must be our newest crew member! My name is Faye, it’s so nice to meet you, girly!” She beamed, her eyes manic.

Not the response you were expecting. “It’s nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” You held out your hand. She took it, her soft palms gripping your hand a little bit too tight. She shook your hand. She kept shaking. And shaking. You pulled back, trying your best to put on a friendly face.

“Sorry if I’m hogging the bathroom, there was an accident last night and I was so dirty, I just had to have a shower.” You smiled, stepping to the side.

“Oh no! You’re totally fine. I was just looking for the toilet, I guess I got lost.” She replied, waving her hand.

“The toilet’s just across the hall from your room, how long have you been here-“ Jet was cut off by Faye’s elbow jabbing him in the ribs. Jet grabbed his side in pain, giving you a half-smile.

“Well, I’d love to chat, but I’m really tired. I’m going to go get some sleep.” You smiled apologetically and gestured to the stairs.

Jet and Faye’s voices mingled with each other, overlapping into a confusing symphony of hospitality and kindness.

“Yeah, no worries!”

“Call us if you need anything!”

“We’ll be right here!”

Smiling, you gave a small wave, turned around, and basically sprinted down the hallway to the living room. You heard Faye hiss, “You didn’t tell me she was a girl, dumbass.”

“I was going to before you blew up at me. If you had let me finish, I would’ve. Why are you so pissed off about another crew member, anyway?”

“I’m tired of all the men on this ship, I didn’t want another one. And I thought they were going to take my room...”

Their bickering trailed off as you climbed up the two sets of stairs to your new room. Ed was still on the floor with her goggles on, humming to herself, seemingly oblivious to the fight that had just happened. Ein cautiously sniffed the overturned table, before settling onto the floor next to Ed, resting his head on her lap. You would’ve said goodnight, but they seemed to be in their own little world and you were happy to let them stay like that.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw two doors directly across from each other, one on each side of the landing. Spike had said it was “the first door you’d see”, but that wasn’t particularly helpful in this situation. Hoping you were correct, you quietly walked over to the door to your left, pressing the button to open it.

Your breath hitched as the door opened to see Spike fast asleep in his bed. He snored lightly, sleeping so deeply he didn’t hear the hiss and clink of the door opening. His arms were behind his head and the steady rise and fall of his bare chest was hypnotic. Even asleep he was really, really attractive. You fumbled over yourself trying to shut the door. It finally latched, and you let out a breath.

Sighing, you turned towards the door behind you. This one had to be it. You opened it to see a small, sparse room. Closing the door behind you, you flipped on the light. Pushed up against the far wall was a simple bed, and to your right was a small desk built into the wall with an old armchair next to it. There was a closet in the far corner, but the door was locked and some large boxes were stacked in front of it. They must not get many guests, it seemed like this room was mainly used for storage.

Feeling the ache of exhaustion overtaking your body, you flopped onto the bed. It was surprisingly soft, with a pillow and tan comforter neatly folded on top. You didn’t know how to thank Jet for being so kind and accommodating. Next time you cashed in a big bounty, you were going to set aside some woolongs to buy him a thank you gift.

On top of the pillow, you noticed a pair of black shorts and a yellow button-up. Pinned to the shirt was a note, clearly written in a hurry.

Some clean clothes. You smell like shit.

-S

You laughed. He’s straight-talking, that’s for sure. You slipped on the shorts and buttoned the shirt halfway up. Spreading out the comforter, you crawled underneath. You were already half-asleep, and thinking about how breathtakingly attractive Spike looked asleep relaxed you even more. Your mental snapshot of your accidental encounter was glued to your eyelids. It was never going to happen again, but you got to have one taste of beauty while here.

You gently wrapped your arms around your pillow, thoughts of Spike disappearing into clouds of empty dreams. It was so much better to fall asleep to thinking of someone, rather than no one at all.

And even though it was going to hurt, you would do it again and again.

[A/N] all I got to say is fasten your seatbelts for the next chapter, slut puppies.

#faye valentine #cowboy bebop #90s anime #jet black #radical edward #adult swim #toonami #ein #fanfiction #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #see ya space cowboy

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kyotakumrau · 4 years

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2020.12.19 SENDAI GIGS 2nd slot report

...it was cold. I thought I was prepared but waiting for my turn to enter was brutal. But the venue was quite well organized with letting fans in. And they had the cutest hand sanitizer stands I've seen!!

Then, when preparing for the talk event venue staff brought 4 small high tables with chairs and placed them in a good distance from each other.

Takabayashi and Fujieda entered the stage (both wearing winter jackets xp) and the latter greeted us and asked for the applause for the band members.

Then Shinya, and after a brief moment, Toshiya entered the stage.

They sat from the right to left: Takabayashi, Shinya, Toshiya and Fujieda (MC).

Toshiya wore a beret, sunglasses, a jacket over the brown Dirt shirt. Shinya had the t-shirt for the event and black clothes otherwise. He also wore sunglasses.

They started with simple greetings and next F skipped straight to the merch items talk. He handed band members their items and asked about the particular thing about the design. Toshiya explained that back has the names of the companies they are working with/are indebted to.

F: S, what's the selling point of your minimini bottle?

S: it's really tiny and you can easily put it in your bag. It's very light so very convenient when you go out.

F brought and passed the items of other members. T got the choker.

T: oh, this is nice! Shinya, I think it'll really suit you!

S: well, I might wear it next time

T: try it on!

S: some other time. (meaning 'no, thanks' 😂)

F: what do you think about Kaoru's pouch, S?

S: it's really tiny and very convenient when you go out.

F: wait, I've heard this before.

S: and the inside is gold. I really love gold.

T (teasing): can all merch items fit inside?😆

S: picks won't fit, right?

T: they do!

S passed the pouch back to F with a serious face, he had to confirm with his own eyes.

S: oh, it's just right, even the bottle fits in.

F (put all items in): all items fit in.

S: then fans should buy all items and put them in. Ah, is the t-shirt still available?

F: actually t-shirt is included in the ticket.

S: does the t-shirt fit in?

F: that might be a bit hard.

T: take it off and try.

Ok😂

F announced they will start reading questions from fans.

T: do you have any no-no topics?

S: everything is fine.

(just what happened in the 1st slot??😂)

F: I'll continue the topic from the previous slot. Is there anything you failed at? Any mistakes?

T said S sometimes messes a song during the concert, teasing him a lot and S was trying to protest saying everyone does that sometimes, but T was having too much fun😂. But then S brought up a festival abroad where he mixed up the order of songs and it was one big mess.

S: as I made mistakes they made me drink after that

T: what am I, sake-yakuza?

😂

T: F, in Nagoya you told us about imitating S on the drums.

F told us again the story about waiting for the car in Kagawa, so he played around imitating S.

S: so which song exactly where you pretending to play?

F: the last part of Ranunculus.

And then he showed us!!! Just drumming few last notes to just finish dramatically with raising hands and leaning his head back.

Shinya was so not impressed🤣🤣🤣

F: wait, didn't you upload it on your channel?

S: I can't remember.

F: 'do you have a favourite youtuber? Or what kind of yt videos do you watch?' Do you watch youtube?

S: I do usually.

F: what channels?

S: channels about games and riddles. But also Taipi Nikki (たいぴー日記), it's a channel about cats and dogs, they upload new videos everyday.

T: I don't really watch yt. But sometimes, Ojisan no nichijo (Tamotsu Takashima おじさんの日常). very casually, like watching TV while eating etc.

Ta: 'what would you like to change in the other member?'

S: I want T to stop scaring me.

T lols so hard😆

S: for example, yesterday was snowing too, I was walking very carefully not to slip but then suddenly a push came from behind🤨

T: 🤣

F: how about you, T?

T: I want him to open his heart to the band members.

F: so you're not talking together?

T: no, he talks with us. But... he's there with us, but the atmosphere is a bit...

S: but I'm open.

F: when I was still a roadie and in a car with S we were talking quite a lot.

Ta: we don't.

S: Ta doesn't talk much.

Ta: since the YT in May we haven't spoke.

F: but when I was a roadie we did usual normal chatting and so on.

T: S, you should join in.

S: はい・I see.

...

😂

F: 'are there any songs you put a lot of confidence in when writing but now you'd prefer not to play them as they are way too difficult, have difficult parts?'

S: 90% of our songs. ...and all of Ningen wo Kaburu. How about you, F?

(oh, a come back for the imitation thing!!😆)

F: the first bit, intro in Hageshisa (he actually 'sang' the bit😆)

S: Yeah, that one is tough.

F: as a roadie I asked you once to show me how to play it. I hoped you will play it slowly so I can learn, but you just went so fast it was over in second, and just said 'that's it'.

F: saku is also hard.

T said he can just follow the music during the show so no problems (?)

T: 'tomorrow is Die's birthday, how will you celebrate? The rumor is, only Shinya sent him birthday wishes'.

T: I usually do something every year, like skype with him. ...should we do something tomorrow?

F: there are no work plans to meet.

T: ok, then I guess we will skype.

S: I always send him a message on LINE.

Ta (or T?): 'it's so cold now! Are you ok with cold? Do you prefer cold or hot weather?'

S: I can't stand cold.

T: I prefer cold. When it's hot even as you take some clothes off, it's still hot. But when it's cold you can add more layers and be okay.

can you get out of bed easily?

S: it's very hard. I can live from inside my bed, even eat there.

T: that's something.

Next they talked about some food from Nagano both T and Ta like, Kanten Papa.

T: 'if you were to change into each other, like wake up as the other one, what would you do?'

T: ...

F: imagine it's only for one day.

T: ...I thought about something baaad, lol. (then he thinks for a while) then, I would work on damaging his reputation.

🤣🤣🤣

S: would I wake up in my house? In his house?

F: let's do your house.

S: then I'd do some muscle training to see what he can actually do.

F: 'we have the rhythm section today, how much do you usually rehearse?'

T said two days (before the tour ???)

F: usually you do a proper full rehearsal with bass amd drums, while checking the score.

T: recently I do it more seriously, I didn't in the past😆

S said before Wither he remembers the songs. Marrow, UROBOROS and Unraveling he can't remember, but he remembers the rest perfectly, he could play Gauze or Macabre songs anytime.

T: do it then!

S: there's no drums.

T: play air drums!

Ta: 'what's the song you want to play the most right now?'

S: and Zero.

Ta: why?

S: it was played somewhere recently, ah on the youtube audiostream, thanks to it I remembered 'oh we have a song like that'.

T: the song(s) we're working on now. I want you all to be able to listen to it/them soon. We will be recording soon.

S: oh.

T: are you practicing them properly?

S: not yet.

😂

T: 'what would you do if you won the lottery (the special new year lottery)?'

S: how much money are we talking?

F: 1bln yen.

S: ...

F: you have nothing you want?

S: not really.

F: what about PS5? Do you have it?

S: I don't have it.

F: did you apply for it?

S: I applied in one place, but didn't win.

F: nothing, really? How about you, T?

T: if I won a lottery I'd use the money to fund COVID vaccination. Well, probably it wouldn't be enough... but with vaccination we could get back to playing concerts sooner.

F: they're working on the vaccine now, right.

T: I hope it will be done soon!

F: do you buy lottery tickets?

T: I never do.

S: same.

Ta: maybe you should try it for Shinya Channel?

(didn't catch the next bit, it was about using money, then gambling?)

F: 'to T, what sauna or onsen would you like to go to next?'

T: to sauna in Finland, like the type in a small log house in the mountains where you get to swim in the lake. I'd love to try that.

F: 'what's the idea behind your outfit, S?'

S: this event t-shirt. I wanted to encourage fans to buy it, but I learned it's part of the ticket... So the rest is just black clothes. style like going to a hair salon (or coming back from there?)

F: 'is there something you'd like to fix this year?'

T: domestic concerts.

S: nothing besides the shows.

T: 'is there anything you want to try in 2021?'

S: nothing especially for 2021.

T: nothing you thought you want to try recently?

S: how about you?

T: I'd like to become able to eat spicy food. Now, I really can't handle any level of spicy.

F told him spicy food is really amazing, especially ramen, T replied he has a place he wants to take F to.

Then F talked about the additional The World You Live In stream and invited everyone to join. And after that was time for the last comments from the band members.

Shinya: Thank you for coming in today. It is snowing right now so please be careful not to slip on your way home. Let's meet again next year.

Toshiya: It's snowing so please be careful. I'd really love to stand in front of you again, so please please wait for us. That's all I can say in this situation.

They stood up, waved and were about to leave. But then Toshiya picked up the choker and gave it to Shinya🤣🤣🤣

#dir en grey #the world you live in #toshiya #shinya #sendai gigs

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whump-town · 4 years

Text

Take Me to Church

Here it is: my religious!Hotch fic turned Bisexual!Hotch fic. I hope you enjoy my hard work, tears, and disaster bi-thoughts

Warning: language, sex, homosexuality **there’s no real need for a warning for that but I’d just like to market this to my fellow gays**, religious trauma, Catholic guilt, child abuse, smoking, mention of AIDS in passing but no one has it, character death(s) **not anyone major**, Aaron Hotchner’s mega big boy grande sized guilt complex, ooc bc Aaron Hotchner has the proper emotions, and just general all around intense feelings

The only Heaven I'll be sent to, Is when I'm alone with you, I was born sick, but I love it, Command me to be well

Word count: 5,794

Praying never made much sense to Aaron Hotchner.

As a child, he’d prayed with crimson teeth and a bleeding tongue for his mother to be spared in his father’s rampant beatings. The priest always said that prayer shouldn’t be selfish. As he sat on his bruised knees and whispered between sobs, he hadn’t been thinking about himself. He’d been thinking about the little brother in his mother’s womb. About the pregnancy that wouldn’t survive if his father didn’t stop hitting on her. About his poor mother who looked sicker each day.

He must have done something wrong because when God had answered his prayers...

“Come on now son. Don’t be difficult,” the priest’s heavy hands pull him away from his mother’s grave. His suit hadn’t fit well that morning but logged with the rain pouring overhead, it now hangs from his bones. They make their way back home. Back to his miserable son of a bitch father.

That night, the priest had tucked him into bed and Aaron rolls over in his bed to put his back to the man. As the old man turned to cut the lights, Aaron finally speaks for the first time all day. He’d found his voice deep within his chest and laced it with his father’s unhinged anger. “I killed her,” he whispers, hot tears running down his cheeks.

The priest shakes his head. “No.” And, the old man could never know this, but what he said next would stay with Aaron for the rest of his life. “It was her time, son.”

God had killed her.

That day was the first time Aaron had ever seen his father cry. He’d stood in the hallway and watched his father sob on his knees, cursing God and swearing up a storm. At seven-years-old, he wondered if God had a sense of humor. He must, after all, to leave Aaron all alone.

Ten-years later he stood in the same spot his father had kneeled in. He’d looked up at the ceiling and prayed again. He’d begged for his father’s life to be spared. “Just this once, okay, just this once---” but his father had never been a good man. A shitty excuse for a dad but Sean thinks he’s a good man. That’s what mattered: Sean. That’s the only thing that had ever mattered. “For Sean, please? He’s never done anything wrong.”

His father died two days later. A heart attack. The doctor’s called it mercy. For who? The man who beat him senseless for fifteen years before he just sold Aaron off to a boarding school. Calling Aaron’s inability to make friends and emotional outbursts the product of the devil and not his senseless beating. The same man who called Aaron writing with his left hand the simplest proof that his mother had been a whore. She had to have cheated to have created a bastard like Aaron.

Mercy? Is that really what he’d deserved?

He has bible scriptures carved into his back. Thin white lines left by his father’s heavy hand and the black belt he wore to court each Tuesday. The only mercy he’s ever known is the black surrounder right before he falls asleep. That twisted hope that maybe his dad hit him too hard. That he won’t wake up this time.

It felt like communion-- Eucharist, standing to receive his bread and wine.

The body of Christ.

“Daddy please-” he makes no sound as the belt comes down over his shoulder. Any noise is a symbol of greater guilt, a better reason to keep hitting. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t move.

Amen.

Remember, God is always watching. No bullshitting, he knows.

Aaron cums with a cry. A sob really.

Sam lifts his head from where he’s buried it in Aaron’s neck, leaving the hickey he’d been sucking to die on its own. He sits up, his arousal forgotten as his heart pounds in his chest with fear. “Are you alright,” he asks, pulling them apart with a quick jerk. His hands are traveling down but he stops when Aaron’s hand grabs his wrist. “Baby, if I hurt you---”

Aaron shakes his head but the tears streaming down his face says otherwise. “I’m sorry,” he gasps. He buries his head in his hands, shoulders shaking as he can’t stop the tears. Sam moves out of the way of his legs, giving Aaron the space necessary to curl into himself.

Sam still has no idea what’s wrong. It had been fine. Things were fine.

It occurs to him a moment too late.

“Fuck,” he curses, seething. Not at Aaron or the mood now officially lost--- but for the boy that Aaron never got to be. To the God that Aaron believes so feverishly and unwavering in. “It’s alright,” he soothes, moving along the bed to where Aaron is. He pulls his boyfriend into his lap, holding Aaron to his chest. “Nothing is going to happen, Aaron. It’s going to be okay.”

Sam has never been religious. It wasn’t something his parents had considered important. Standing at over 6’5 and two hundred pounds of just muscle, no one even suspects he’s anything but straight. People who do know… no one’s going to say anything to a guy like him. The same thing goes for Aaron. He may be a little on the scrawny side but he’s 6’2 and no one blinks an eye at the two of them spending so much time together.

It’s not people they have to worry about.

They can be cruel and unaccepting but AIDS is still rampant through-out not only the college’s campus but through-out the gay community.

But Aaron’s a little too preoccupied with God.

Sam’s not even sure if there’s such a thing.

“Aaron!” Picking him up by his shoulders, he pulls Aaron upright. They’ve passed sobbing and moved to a panic attack. “Alright,” Sam fails to soothe. He pulls Aaron off the bed, holding him close when his legs shake beneath him. “Easy,” he mumbles, his heartbreaking--- Aaron can’t walk. It takes a great bit of work on Sam’s part but with a grunt, he lifts Aaron off his feet.

Stumbling in the direction of the bathroom, he carries Aaron. “It’s gonna be alright,” Sam promises. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Sam would like to think he’s a good boyfriend (he is). He did as much research as he could. So that he would know how to help Aaron the next time one of these events started happening.

Into the freezing shower they go.

Clutched, naked body to naked body, they rock until Aaron’s broken sobs die down. Until Sam can feel Aaron’s breathing steady out, hot exhales washing over his goosebump riddled flesh.

Against the bare skin of Sam’s shoulder, Aaron whispers Hail Mary to himself. His long fingers tapping against his thumb like counting rosary beads, “---of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now---” It’s the only coping mechanism he’s ever learned.

Sam presses a kiss to his temple. Aaron hates that he turns his head for more. Turns his head until Sam’s hands are tangled in his hair and holding him tightly. Sam kisses him softly, full of love. He doesn’t deserve that.

“Sodomy is a sin,” he whispers, against Sam’s lips.

Sam smiles, shaking his head. He doesn’t care. “Did you like it,” Sam asks, voice husky. He wraps himself back around Aaron, shaking from the cold of the water still pouring down over them. Fingers moving up Aaron’s back, he tangles them in his hair.

Aaron… knows the answer. He also knows that sin is often appealing. Sam is the sin that Aaron can never walk away from. What he always comes back for. “Yes,” he answers, honestly. He had liked it. He’d liked it a lot. Sex with Sam is gentle and overwhelming and--- sin. It’s still sin.

“That’s all that matters,” Sam presses kisses back to Aaron’s neck. Smiling against his skin when Aaron arches into the touch.

Aaron can never make Sam understand that this principle isn’t that simple. It’s a black and white morality. Heaven or hell.

But, maybe…

Sam reaches around behind him and cuts the water off, Aaron shivers against his chest leaning closer to the touches that are trailing down his body. Sam pulls him closer so that Aaron’s in his lap. With a grunt, Aaron allows Sam to push into him and mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure he falls into Sam’s shoulder.

“Jesus,” Sam curses, pulling Aaron closer. “You---” he moans, tilting his head back. This time, Aaron’s sets the pace. Slow and steady. It hurts but it’s an ache he’s familiar with. The lube from earlier mostly washed away but he’s prepped and anything is better than thinking about Hell.

His doomed eternity.

“You’re so good, baby boy.” Sam holds him close, his fingers digging into Aaron’s hips. “Fu-Fuck---”

Why is it that the only thing that has ever made sense to him a sin?

Sam dies in the middle of first semester their Junior year. Though it’s never stated, it’s Aaron’s fault. Sam wouldn’t have been on the road that if Aaron just prayed harder or been a better man. Panic attacks are a product of a shaky relationship with God and Aaron wouldn’t have had one, he wouldn’t have called Sam freaking out, if he’d just… believed harder.

Aaron knows it’s his fault. He never gets over that guilt.

He marries Haley at the end of Senior year and they invite Sam’s parents to the wedding. No one knows the true extent of Aaron and Sam’s relationship but Haley knows something was going on between the two. They’d been high school sweethearts, separated by his years spent away at college. Separated by Aaron’s love for a man.

He comes home different but she loves him. She also knows that her mother approves of Aaron’s God-fearing ways. Religion is good in a man like him, her mother had warned, you can see the darkness in him. She bites her tongue and moves on.

Until she sees the darkness too.

The divorce breaks him.

He starts having panic attacks again, worse than the ones in college. No one notices. He knows they just write him off as a dick. He’s just a robot to them. Emotionless and he can work with that. So, he is a robot. Just marching through life and flying by the seat of his pants, hoping that it all goes well.

But he knows… each night as the panic bubbles in his chest and has him falling to his knees that hell is the only place he’s going. It’s going to take more than prayers to save a sinner like him.

“Hotch?” He jumps at the sudden intrusion. Looking to his left, none other than Emily Prentiss is standing on the balcony. She’s grinning from ear to ear and shaking her head. “What are you doing up so late?”

The cigarette trapped between his lips should answer that well enough.

The thing is, he’s not as slick as he thinks he is. She’s noticed him pulling away. Dave has noticed--- hell, everyone has noticed something is wrong. So, when Emily Prentiss had been tossing and turning in her own bed and smelled the wafting, faint scent of cigarette smoke she’d gotten curious. She certainly hadn’t expected to find him.

“Mind some company?”

And with those three simple words she’d pulled him from the edge.

That night they burned through four cigarettes. Sin, that night, had been just as he remembered it once being. For a moment, as he stood--- her leaning against him and him leaning against her--- he had managed a smile. With a cigarette between his teeth, he’d taken his first real breath in years.

Foyet attacks him in his apartment and as he lies bleeding he hopes this is it. That the world will flicker out, he’s just a candle drowning it’s wax. Will there be a light or…

He wakes up in the hospital and he’s never been this cold in his life.

It’s Emily’s voice that pulls him from the white walls and the pain. She’s saying something about cigarettes and the seasons changing. He smiles, drugged and submissive, when she proposes the team go to Dave’s and get drunk. He doesn't’ even think about God, about the sin and the eternity in hell waiting for him. He just thinks about his team and the only family he’s ever really been a part of.

He wakes up thrashing--- a broken sob on his lips. There’s so much pain and he can’t think about anything other than death. Death and Hell and sin and the pain, oh fuck the pain.

Thin fingers wrap around his, squeezing and he looks up and finds JJ softly soothing him. Her fingers are ghosting along his forearms, rubbing circles into his pale skin. “Just breathe,” she instructs and he’s reminded of Sam and that freezing shower and the---

“Aaron!” she calls and the fortitude, the conviction in her eyes sobers him. “You have to stop,” she tells him, her touch turning hard and that he can focus on. That pulls him back down. “Breathe,” and slowly he relaxes again. She’s softened and he watches the tears pool in her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” she chides, softly.

He manages to squeeze her hand.

“We almost lost you,” she whispers and that hadn’t occurred to him. His death happens to other people. It’ll just be… nothing. He must be very high or maybe broken because he thinks of nothing. The nothingness that happens after death and not raging, flaming pits of hell.

JJ presses a kiss to his temple and he closes his eyes. It’s a tender love he… he’s forgotten. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she says, her thumb rubbing against his hand. “I don’t like job hunting.”

He doesn’t know how to tell her that the team wouldn’t fall apart if Foyet had chosen to kill him.

She doesn’t know how to tell him that isn’t true.

Foyet does kill Haley and for a long time, it’s like he’s killed Hotch too.

“Hotch!”

The last he’d seen of Emily, she was displeased with his decision to decline his invitation to girl’s night. First, of all, he’s not that dumb. He knew damn well that they wanted him to tag along because Emily had told them about his date with the cute blonde at the coffee shop had gone tits up. Of course, she’d chosen to leave out that his date had failed because she’d entered the shop and wolf-whistled at the sight of him.

But, she has chosen to blame the entire thing on him because he should have told her.

Ah, silly him.

Now, he’s waiting on his front porch for Will to drop her off at his place. Does she have an apartment of her own? Yes. But she’s a clingy drunk and it’s custom for her to come to sleep in his bed. Besides, who else is going to hold her hair up while she pukes?

He smiles when he sees her. God… leave it to him to pick Emily Prentiss, of all people, to be his best friend. Well, he’s not really sure he chose or picked her so much as ended up within her mercy. “Emily,” he greets softly, smiling when she walks right up to him and headbutts his chest. She just falls straight into him.

He shuffles to accommodate her weight but they do this little dance frequently. With one hand on the back of her head, he raises the other to wave to Will that he’s free to go. The detective nods and pulls the car into reverse, JJ and Garcia in the back shouting their own goodbyes.

“Alright,” Hotch rubs her shoulders, shivering from the night’s chill. “Pigging back ride?”

She nods and it’s only with practiced ease that they manage this so easily.

As he stands, he gives her a second to adjust herself before he starts walking back towards his porch. This is the exact reason he does squats at the gym, so his thighs don’t shake as he carries her up the stairs.

“Oh,” Emily whines into his back, where her face is buried. “I hope I didn’t wake Jack.”

He’s overly careful to make sure he doesn’t hit her legs as he steps into the door. Stopping to shut the door behind them he tells her, “he’s not here.” He scowls with concentration as he moves down the hall. “He’s spending the weekend with his cousins.” He’d told her this earlier, too many times. It is one of the smaller reasons she’d invited him to girls night: so he wouldn’t have to be alone in his house.

They share many secrets. He’d been the first person on the team to know she’s gay. He still remains one of the few who know. JJ and Garcia know-- tequila always makes her lose her grip. He also knows that she wants to have a family and about her giant crush on JJ.

Just like she knows that sitting in his empty house stresses him out. He turns into the empty walls and all he can think about is being completely alone while Foyet was trying to hunt down his son and Haley. She knows this and… she’d left him here all by himself.

“Emily,” he whispers, feeling her hot tears soak into the back of his shirt. He’s not mad or even frustrated, he’s just sad. He can’t do anything about it just yet. So, he takes her back to his room. He helps her out of her blouse, replacing it with his George-town hoodie so she can curl her legs into.

Only once she’s situated, his back turned so she can hiccup and dry her tears while she slips into a pair of her own shorts he kneels down in front of her. “Emily.” He shakes his head, she’s still inconsolable, so he pulls her to his chest. “Emily, I’m a grown man.” He rubs her back, “I can handle being in my own home.”

She only cries harder and it hurts him because whatever it is that’s really bothering her he can’t fix.

“Would you love me more if I wasn’t a lesbian,” she asks, sobbing into his shoulder.

Well… he blanks. What is he even supposed to say to that? Now she’s really crying and he’s-- he can’t think of a single thing to say. “Emily…” he shakes his head. “I--I don’t care that you’re a lesbian.” And why would he? How many times have they had the ‘it would be like kissing my brother/sister’ conversation? Or the ‘even if I were straight…’? He doesn’t feel sexually attracted to her.

He just… he loves her because she’s his family.

“You don’t,” she asks, sniffling. She pushes his shoulders away from her so that she can see his eyes. So she can see if he’s lying. “You don’t hate me?” Because she’s certain that he does sometimes. Like he can stand the thought of her.

He shakes his head. “It would be very hypocritical of me to hate you for being gay,” he says, without really thinking about what that means. At what he’s admitting.

Though she doesn’t say anything, the admission sobers her. With tender care he tucks her into bed. Smiling softly when she pulls him down beside her.

They fall asleep on their sides, facing one another. He falls asleep first. Too exhausted to wait her out. Between them, she gently reaches over and brushes her thumb over his cheek bone. Trialing it along the facial hair he’s let grow over the course of their long weekend off.

He breaks her heart.

“So, are we just not going to talk about it?”

They’re watching a basketball game from earlier in the week because it’s Tuesday and she gets to pick what they watch on Tuesdays. Granted, it’s sports and he hates sports which means that he gets to pick whether or not they sit close. She knows something is wrong because he puts the entire couch between them. They’re not even sharing a blanket and he always lets her have some of his blankets.

She gets cold easily.

“Talk about what, Emily?” The way he says her name… it’s not right. He always says Emily kindly, loving. He says her name and it makes her proud to be Emily but this time it’s a reprimand and she sees it for exactly what it is—- an attempt to push her away. To make her feel afraid to push on.

But she’s been gay for so long, openly gay. It takes more than a little bit of attitude to scare her off. “You,” she says, softly. “You’re gay, Aaron, and—-“

He flinches at the word gay. Recoiling. “Emily,” his tone shifts to pleading.

“You—-“ she shifts too. She turns her body to face her, no longer relaxed. “Aaron, there’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

Sodomy, Aaron thinks. First and for most, there’s sodomy and it’s a sin to love a man. A sin to love men in a way he could never love Haley. Which Emily would understand if he told her about his sex life with Haley. Rather, his nonexistent sex life with Haley. He loved Haley so much but he could never love her the right way. The way God had intended.

By the time he manages to raise his eyes to hers, there are tears streaming down his face. He’s so helplessly broken and he can’t even hide it.

“Oh, Aaron.” Emily pulls him against her chest, rubbing up and down his back as he sobs. “I…” she doesn’t know what to say. She knows it’s the Catholisim here at play but her youth was so very different from his. Matthew had saved her from the fate Aaron had succumbed to. Matthew had shown her the churches many faults and…

Aaron had no one.

No one but the Bible and a God who never answered back.

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay,” she whispers, rocking their bodies gently. “There’s nothing wrong with you Aaron.”

He sobs even harder. He wishes he could believe that. He does. He wishes he could but…

They agree to never talk about it. Meaning, Emily begrudgingly lets it go.

The universe isn’t ready for Hotch to shove it under the rug though.

There’s this barista at the coffee shop downtown--- more than a barista, he’s the owner, actually. He’s a giant. He almost makes Hotch feel small in comparison. In college, he’d been a football player but he’d messed his knee up pretty bad Junior year. He became dependent on the painkillers he’d received after surgery. He’d dropped out of college a few months later.

Hotch learns all of this only after two coffees.

One that he has Monday with the man’s phone-number and name scribbled onto the side of his cup. His cheeks had turned a furious shade of pink when Morgan had asked who Charlie is and if she was pretty. For some reason, despite coaching himself over and over in the mirror that he’d never go back--- Hotch goes back to the coffee shop Thursday.

This time as Hotch is handing the other man a five dollar bill he adds his own phone-number and name attached with a simple sticky-note.

He’s not even out the door yet when his phone vibrates.

“I thought I’d scared you off, mysterious FBI man.”

It makes him stop in his tracks. A smile tugs at his lips and there isn’t a single thought in his head about church or God or his father just this impossibly good feeling in his chest. It’s been so long since he’s done the flirting thing but he replies: “As good as mysterious FBI man sounds, I typically go by Aaron. Besides, it takes a little bit more than a phone-number to scare me off”

The texts keep coming and Hotch doesn’t mind.

Charlie tells him about college and Hotch tells him about the team. It’s out of character for him to be so open but it’s just coffee and flirting and a really hot barista.

The feeling is very mutual.

“Kiss me, g-man.”

Hotch shakes his head, chuckling when Charlie throws his hips over Hotch’s waist. “You’d better---” whatever threat he’s making half-heartedly turns into a groan when Charlie starts planting open mouth kisses along his collar. Sucking a hickey under his ear where it will be painfully obvious to the team.

When Hotch lets out a grunt, his hand grabbing at Charlie’s shirt and the other going to his hair Charlie laughs. He buries his face in Hotch’s neck, his hand traveling down to the front of his pants. “Is that your gun?” he pulls back with a smirk.

Lightly, he pushes Aaron back on the bed. Charlie’s nimble fingers wrap around his jeans, pulling the tight fabric off of his ass.

“I don’t remember asking for this,” Hotch grunts, fist clenched tightly in the bedsheets. It’s the only way he can assure that he won’t go bucking into Charlie’s palm the minute he starts touching again. He’s not going to cave like that.

To his credit, Charlie stops. He plants his hands on both sides of Hotch’s hips, his mouth sending a dangerous gust of warm air over Hotch’s straining cock. He lifts an eyebrow, “say the word, Aaron.” Say the word and it stops. They don’t dance along fancy lines like that. Charlie wouldn’t do that.

Sitting up, Aaron wraps his legs around Charlie’s hips. He runs his fingers up through Charlie’s hair, kissing him. With a smile he pulls away and whispers, “fuck me, Charlie.”

And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do just that.

Sodomy is way better than Aaron remembers.

They’re about three months into this when Charlie learns that Hotch hasn’t told a soul about him. At least, not really. Not past the point of passing in conversation. Hell, he hasn’t even told them that Charlie isn’t some bombshell blonde woman but a 6’4 black man who owns the coffee shop.

“Fine,” Hotch caves despite the anxiety leaving him so unnerved he’s shaking. “Do you want to come with me to Dave’s this weekend?” He’s got an edge to his tone. He’s hoping Charlie takes the bait and rolls his eyes. He almost hopes for a fight.

Charlie nods his head, “I would like to, actually.”

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Okay.”

It’s not okay. It’s far from it.

He sits on edge for the rest of the week. Begging for a case. None come.

If Charlie has anything to say about Hotch letting go of his hand when they step out of the car, he doesn’t say anything. He does offer him a supportive smile, reaching between them to squeeze Aaron’s bicep.

“Dave,” Hotch breathes the other man’s voice and Charlie can hear the panic seeping into his deep tone. But then he just blanks.

Charlie stretches his hand out, “I’m Charlie.”

Dave gets over his momentary shock very quickly. “Charlie,” Dave shakes his head with a smile. He avoids the hand being offered and pulls the younger man in for a hug. “I have heard so much about you! I was just a little shocked. I was expecting--”

Charlie laughs, “a woman.”

Dave claps him on the back. “Well, yes, I was.” He smiles at Hotch next, pulling him in for a hug too. Dave can feel just how unnerved Hotch is but he doesn’t comment. He just squeezes him a little tighter. “More so,” Dave says, “I was expecting a blonde. He really likes blondes.”

Charlie glances back at Aaron, keeping his smile in place even when Aaron can’t look up from his intense battle with the floor.

“Well, come on in! I’ve got enough bourbon and food in here to feed a small army!”

Charlie steps inside first, Aaron hot on his heels.

Charlie turns around, to look back at Aaron. Calling the other man’s name for attention. “Aaron,” he calls softly, grabbing his hand. “Show me to the bathroom.”

Hotch nods his head, eyes vacant as he moves on through the room. Ghosting. “It’s, ugh,” Hotch points lamely to the door.

Charlie pulls him into the small room. Aaron making a small grunt of protest. “Look at me,” says, stern but not overbearing. “Aaron, please.”

It takes a moment but Aaron pulls his eyes off the floor. He grimaces when a tear falls down his cheek, ashamed of this display of emotion. This vulnerability.

With a sad smile, Charlie wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. “They didn’t know did they?”

Leaning forward, Hotch buried his face in Charlie’s blue t-shirt. It’s old and soft and it does nothing to slow his tears. He shakes his head. “They didn’t.”

Fuck. Charlie wraps his arms around Hotch, pulling him close. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

What other options are there? If Charlie hadn’t forced his hand Hotch would have happily died in the blissful lie he’d created. He could have died alone. No need to come out. Hell, if he’d just found another blonde woman he could have married her and died “straight”.

Anything is better than this in-between.

“Aaron,” Charlie breathes his name sadly. He doesn’t know what to say. His family had disowned him. So, he can’t just reassure Aaron it’ll be okay but Dave took it so well. “Have you even given them a chance?”

Well… Dave did take it very well and Emily already knows.

“No,” he answers honestly.

Charlie presses a kiss to his temple, asking, “maybe you should give them the benefit of the doubt?”

A knock at the door makes them both jump.

“Hotch,” Reid whines from the other side. “I really have to go.”

Hotch smiles and that makes Charlie smile. “Good?” he asks.

Hotch nods, “good.”

The pair step out of the bathroom.

Reid blushes and slides past.

“You don’t think he thinks we were…”

Hotch nods, “more than likely.”

Heading back down the hall, Charlie leans into Hotch’s side. “Which one was that?”

“Reid.”

Charlie hums his understanding. Cuter than he’d imagined. Aaron had said tall and thin but it really did the genius no justice. He’s an attractive young man. “You didn’t tell me he was cute.”

Wrapping his arm around Charlie’s waist he pulls the other man closer. His heart is beating hard in his chest but he kisses the other man, closing his eyes and enjoying this moment. Separating just enough to say, “I think he said he plays for your team. If you’re interested.”

“My team,” Charlie repeats. He runs a finger along Aaron’s brow, sweeping his hair back. “My team is you,” Charlie rolls his eyes. “Doofus.”

Hotch’s jaw drops. “Doofus?”

Charlie smiles, “my doofus.”

Emily stops at the mouth of the hall, having heard the dee rumbling sound of voices “That’s fucking adorable.”

Hotch groans, pushing his face into Charlie’s chest.

“Don’t groan at me,” she says. “You’re the bastard that came out to me. Ghosted me. Then went and got a boyfriend.”

Hotch grimaces, “Emily…”

She waves him, turning her attention to Charlie. “You,” she sticks her hand out and they share a handshake. “You got yourself a good one. He can be an ass though.”

Charlie chuckles at that, “he really can be. Also, insufferable.”

Emily opens her mouth in happy shock. “Right? What about him being a know-it-all?”

Charlie nods, “don’t forget being a tight ass.”

Hotch feels a comment about their sex lives attempting to roll of his tongue. Something along the lines of Charlie saying he’d liked his ass last night— instead he just grunts. “Enough about me,” he grumbles.

Emily smiles at both of them. She really is happy. Hotch deserves to be happy. With a smirk she motions for them to follow her. “Come on, drinks?”

Somehow, despite everything Hotch had convinced himself, everything is fine.

Charlie ends up wondering off with Morgan. The two deep into a conversation about a beam Morgan’s building around. Hotch had watched Charlie gag down Garcia’s awful shots and listen to Reid talk about thermodynamics.

And when Hotch’s anxiety started getting bad again, Charlie was right there. Hotch hadn’t said anything, he didn’t even close himself off. Emily had just excused herself to go yell about something with JJ, leaving him leaning against the bar in the kitchen. But Charlie had come up and squeezed his hand. Winking for good measure. Hotch’s anxiety, like his heart, melted into a puddle around his feet.

“Goodbye,” Emily wishes them a farewell. She kisses both their cheeks and holds on to Hotch a moment longer than she normally would. “So, does this mean we’re back on for movie nights?”

Hotch nods. He’s missed their movie nights. He’s missed hanging out with her.

In the end, it’s the two of them and Dave.

Hotch’s anxiety rears it’s ugly head. Another painful reminder of the childhood he’ll never escape. Of God and sin and hell. The Catholic Church is solid force in Dave’s life and he’s askin Dave to choose. And Aaron knows he’s not going to be chosen.

“You boys good to drive home?” Dave hands Charlie a Tupperware container of leftovers.

Charlie nods, “we’re okay.”

Well, Charlie is. Hotch is little tipsy and one wrong word away from throwing up on the porch.

“Be safe,” Dave says, pulling Charlie in for a hug first. He pats his back, lowering his head to whisper. “Take care of my boy, you here?”

It makes Charlie smile. They’d briefly discussed Aaron’s real father but Charlie can see exactly what Aaron had meant when he said Dave had been the man that raised him. He’s gentle and firm and Charlie is glad Aaron was able to find a father. “Of course,” Charlie responds. “Someone has to.”

That makes Dave chuckle. Damn right.

“Come here, son.” Aaron’s always been bigger than Dave, not that he minds. He pulls him down into his arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Lowering his voice he whispers, “I’m glad you brought Charlie. He’s a good man. I’m proud of you.”

Hotch feels the dam break. He wraps his arms tighter around Dave, all of his youth and sexuality and feelings finally making sense. He doesn’t have to chose. He can be himself and be happy, it’s allowed.

Aaron Hotchner didn’t kill his mother or his mother. He’s always done his best and that’s all he can do.

“You’re a good man,” Dave whispers, rubbing his back.

And… Aaron might just be starting to believe him.

#criminal minds #tw child abuse #out of character #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #sean hotchner #emily prentiss #david rossi #haley hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #tw cigarettes #lesbian emily prenitss #george foyet

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poirott · 4 years

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This is the 2nd part of the "Riddle of the Spinx" interview with Death on the Nile cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos for British Cinematographer November 2020 issue (part 1 transcribed here). The full interview has now been released on the British Cinematographer website. I've included some of the text below!

In Part 2 Zambarloukos talks about shooting with the cast on location in Egypt and doing a particularly complex single shot of them on set, how they did the opening b&w sequence of young Poirot as a soldier, and built sets of Abu Simbel and the pyramids, the use of realtime footage projected on LED screens to make the studio sets look more realistic, what part of the Murder on the Orient Express set they recycled for Nile, etc.

Q: This was shot like Murder on the Orient Express at Longcross Studios with plates filmed on location in Egypt. Was it ever a possibility to shoot entirely on location?

Haris Zambarloukos: The issue is that 1934 Egypt barely exists today. For example, in the 1960s they moved the Abu Simbel temple 300 metres away so that the Aswan Dam wouldn't flood it. So, we built the entire four-storey high Abu Simbel at Longcross, complete with banks of water. The same with Giza and the Sphinx. In the 1930s the Nile went up to the feet of the Sphinx. Now all you see is the concrete expanse of Cairo.

Secondly, it's difficult to shoot complex shoots on a river while floating, taking all the cast down there and scheduling them, on top of ensuring everyone's safety on such a high-profile project.

Our whole design and research went into creating a set. We wanted to build a life-size boat inside and out; not to break it down into small sets but to shoot it as if we were on a boat. That’s a huge undertaking. Jim Clay built an amazing set to scale for the Karnak. It was so big we needed to build a temporary sound stage around it. We also wanted to use some real daylight when we got great sunlight in Longcross and use a little bit of water to basically film the boats carrying guests to the Karnak.

We recycled the railway from Orient and built the boat on that so we could wheel it in from outdoors to indoors. We built a very elaborate lighting rig that you could pull back and see the entire boat in one shot. You could step onto the boat and walk through all the rooms which were all lit for an analogue film f-stop. It was complicated and took most of our planning but I personally don't think you can tell the difference when we cut - even from a shot filmed outside in real sunlight juxtaposed with one in apparent sunlight on our sound stage. It's seamless because we took such great care and a detailed approach to our rig and construction.

In Orient you created some stylish direct overheads of the train carriage. You've told us of the Steadicam dance sequence in Nile. Were there other stylistic flourishes?

Inside the sound stage we went twice round the Karnak with the entire cast all choreographed for this one great reveal of a murder. It was really hard work to do. I understand why it was cut in the edit although they have kept a lot of other single long takes and there are lots of places where you see the whole cast in a single shot.

However difficult you might think setting up a long single is in terms of lighting and operating, it is equally, if not more difficult, to block a scene with multiple actors, keep the audience engaged and choreograph it in a way that is exciting and at the same time reveals things gradually. There's a lot of pressure on a lot of people in shots like that. Everyone's got to be on top of their game. Because we're all so interdependent, it's a domino effect in that the further you go in the take, the bigger the responsibility is for not getting it wrong whether that's the operator, focus puller, the actor saying the final line, the gaffer lighting a corner at just the right time. We always get excited about those shots but also very nervous.

You augmented the studio work with plates photographed on location in Egypt. Tell us about that.

We filmed on the Nile from a boat with a 14 8K Red camera array. We had a 360-degree bubble on top of the boat and two three-camera arrays pointing forwards and backwards as we travelled up and down. We specifically chose areas where modernity wasn’t present (or where it was, we removed it in post) and we also shot plates from the point of view of passengers onboard the Karnak.

VFX supervisor George Murphy edited the footage and stitched the plates together into an essentially very, very advanced virtual reality rig in which I could pan my camera. We did that before principal photography, so we never had to guess a month or so later what to put there. That’s a big help. Most shoots do their plate photography afterwards. It meant I could pretty much place the camera on any deck of the Karnak for any scene and know what the background would be.

As with Orient, did you play back footage realtime on LED screens outside the boat set?

I'd love to have done it live but on Orient we were only dealing with one wagon's windows at a time. It was still the biggest LED set-up ever done to that point, but the Karnak set is 20 time bigger than that. There aren't enough LED screens available – plus it would have been prohibitively expensive.

Instead, I went for a much larger version of a technique I'd used on Mamma Mia which was to hang back projection screens all around the boat – 200m in circumference, 15m high. We used Arri SkyPanels at a distance to create a sky or a part of the background. It could also be converted into a blue screen when we needed to. It meant that if I had a shot looking above the horizon line into the sky then it could be done in camera.

How confident were you of retaining colour and contrast from set to post?

I took stills on the recce and we used those to the create colours with this back projection for our skies. I take prints (not digital stills) so there is no misinterpretation. A still is a piece of paper that you can see. Once something is emailed across and seen by someone watching on another screen the information can get lost.

At the same time there were a lot more checks and balances put in place. We had a projector at Longcross and I watched dailies with (dailies colourist) Sam Spurgeon every lunchtime. With Kodak and Digital Orchard we have a very quick process to convert analogue filmmaking into digital by the next morning. Film is processed at night, they scan at 4am and by mid-morning those digital images are transferred to our dailies suite at Longcross. At lunch we’d watch it digitally projected, having been processed, scanned and graded at 2K.

I check that first and give notes to Sam and those get transferred onto our dailies which is what Ken, the editorial team, VFX and studio team sees. That's a major check. It's me with someone in a room, rather than me talking over the phone which is a big difference. I have a very good relationship with Goldcrest and (DI colourist) Rob Pizzey who also sees things along the way. I supervise the grade at the end. So, there's no need for anyone to interpret anything. It’s a collaboration in which we all look at the same images.

Did you shoot black and white for the opening scene or convert?

We shot colour for a couple of reasons. Although Kodak could manufacture BW 65, there is no lab in the world to processes it. Plus, there’s a certain skill to grading BW using colour negative and the added benefits are that that you can place a grey tone to a colour. For example, you could take red and decide it will look a very dark grey or a light grey, so you get very detailed tones. Ultimately, I get much more control in the DI this way. They were very monochromatic battlefield sets and costumes so it was quite limited in this case. The Germans wore grey and the Belgians wore dark blue and it’s a dark sooty gas-filled battlefield but you could manipulate the blue in the sky a little bit more and certainly manipulate the intensity of people’s eyes - especially if they had blue eyes (which Branagh does).

How did you handle sound sync?

To do sound sync work on Orient we used sound cameras that are twice as heavy as high-speed cameras, so I wanted to develop soundproof housing (blimp) for our camera on Nile. I took the problem to Stuart Heath at BGI Supplies at Longcross. They've made all sorts of props for us before, from Cinderella’s carriage to the furniture on Nile. I told him that I needed it really quickly. All my other attempts had failed. Stuart suggested using a material that they soundproof the interior of helicopters with. He brought a draper in who basically measured the camera as if making a dinner suit for it and quickly made a couple of versions for us. It was very effective and really opened up the Steadicam possibility for us. All from just wandering onto a workshop on the lot and asking a friend if he had any ideas about how to achieve something. In the old days that’s what everyone did – the answer was somewhere on the lot.

Finally, after six films and 14 years working with Ken Branagh, could you tell us what makes your relationship tick?

It is a fantastic friendship. To begin with you must be able to maintain a professional friendship with any cast and crew which is all about doing your very best and understanding where you have common aesthetics and shared thoughts about humanity. Ask what kind of world you want this to be, because that will come through in your filmmaking.

As you say, I've spent years working in close proximity to Ken and we have a mutual affection and admiration for each other otherwise we wouldn't be doing it for so long. He is relentless in pursuit of perfection and in his advancement of storytelling and is inspiring to work with. It means you have to be as relentless in your area of craft.

I think we both like making the same kinds of films. I'm a Greek Cypriot who grew up with Greek myth and tragedy. Ken's love of Shakespeare is legendary. You can easily see the lineage between Aeschylus (the ancient Greek creator of tragedy) that goes all the way to Shakespeare. Perhaps that appreciation for the human condition in its best and worst forms is the tie that binds.

Photo credit: Rob Youngson

Source: britishcinematographer.co.uk - February 4 2021

#death on the nile #agatha christie #poirot #hercule poirot #kenneth branagh #been waiting for them to release the rest of the interview! \o/#it goes into a lot more detail than the average article #great interview for fans of behind the scenes stuff #ken's brilliance strikes again :)#i'm fascinated by the 'going twice around the karnak' single shot #sounds like the 'figure 8' shot in MOTOE but even more complex #and they fragmented it?#and the LED screen tech is much larger this time #OMG poirot in dark blue belgian army uniform <3 #hope they release some promo pics of it so we can see it in color #the overhead pic of poirot on set has circular camera tracks around him #it's gonna be an awesome shot i'm sure

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murdereraisuha · 4 years

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I wrote this for myself to try and organize my current theories on TWST, but I might as well keep this blog going even though I’m out of ideas for card maker memes.

This is basically a rant that starts out with theorizing about RSA, the Cater=Cinderella theory, and Split Card, but then spirals into a Cater character analysis.

For anyone who doesn’t know the Cinderella theory, it’s basically just Cater might have something to do with Cinderella because he has two bossy sisters, and during the ghost marriage there was this whole thing where Riddle needs to rescue Cater before midnight because of some Queen of Hearts rule.

Spoilers for Cater’s personal stories (including his halloween outfit story) and chat, and chapter 4 of the main story. Okay now let’s get into it. Over 1,800 words geez what am I doing with my life

Aight so Ace and Deuce don't have their unique magics yet and there is obviously Something going on with Cater so it really makes me think that we're gonna return to Heartslabyul somewhere down the line. We know there's gotta be more stuff with RSA, so that might tie into the Cater = Cinderella theory. Maybe we have a chapter focusing on RSA and Cater will be the main focus or ally for that. IDK man, I'm still kind of eh on the Cinderella theory cause it makes a lot of sense but we already have Mozus being the evil stepmother. Him and Cater are from the same hometown (?) but my concern is that if Cater is a main focus and he gets connected to Mozus then Mozus would also be in the spotlight which would be odd given how nothing seems to suggest that the teachers (except Crowley) getting bigger roles in the story. However, it could always be a situation like with Farena where Mozus is there and some sort of connection is briefly discussed but he isn't important and maybe someone else takes the role of evil stepmother in the story.

Ok idk so we're gonna go back to Cater. If the Cinderella theory is true, we gotta consider how exactly Cater represents Cinderella. Does he represent Cinderella in the way that he's twisted from her (ex. Azul & Ursula) or that he just takes the role of Cinderella for a chapter (ex. Azul & The Genie)? The fact that he uses dark magic points to it being the latter, that he really is twisted from a card soldier. However, we gotta consider 1. the nature of his unique magic 2. the plot of Cinderella. Though we know he has the ability to clone himself, we don't know how exactly this works. Are the clones identical, or do/can they have differences? In episode 1-15, the Cater clones all have slightly different responses ("はーい" "まかせて！" "おっけー♪") to getting ready to paint the roses. Given how clones don't exist in real life, it's impossible to tell whether this variation indicates actual differences in personality, is just due to the clones' slightly different experiences (like a sort of butterfly effect), or if it's just a decision by the writer so they aren't repetitive. Another thing to note is that in that same episode Cater claims that cloning himself is tiring. If this is the only source for this information, there's the possibility that it just was a lie to let him manipulate the 1st years into helping him paint. Finally, Cater's ability makes me think of Twice from BNHA. Can only the original Cater create clones? Or is he like Twice in that his clones can also make clones, therefore making it impossible for anyone, including himself, to tell who is the original?

What I'm getting at here is the possibility of Cater having clones that 1. stick around permanently and 2. are significantly different than him. This would create the possibility of him being twisted from both the card soldiers and Cinderella, but he is able to use his clone ability to split up those aspects of himself. One Cater is the card soldier one normally walking around NRC and who has dark magic, but then there's another Cinderella Cater who has light magic. Assuming this is what is going on, it would kind of connect to his two-sided personality, where he presents his bubbly, social-media addict personality to the world but has another, depressed, more private personality underneath.

Now, getting into what I mentioned before about the plot of Cinderella, Cinderella normally looks like a humble servant. However, with the aid of the fairy godmother, she completely transforms herself into a breathtaking princess so she can go to the ball. However, once the clock strikes midnight, she transforms back. Basically, Cinderella has the ability of transformation, to have two completely different versions of herself. One version is her true, plain self, while the other is a flashy deception. This information strengthens what I just said about Cater's personality and clone ability.

Actually, just going into Cater's personality for a bit (yeah, “a bit” lol)... He has a big focus on always being presentable. In his lab coat, he seems pretty desperate to hide all evidence of his true self, claiming that he just failed at putting his magic in the depressed mandrake and then hiding all his other mandrakes aside from the fun ones. This desperation is similar to Cinderella's, with how she flees the ball in a hurry once it reaches midnight so no one will see how she truly looks once the spell breaks. Now, why do Cater and Cinderella behave the way they do? I don't remember Cinderella's exact motivations for attending the ball, but wikipedia says that she had to flee the ball because if the spell broke there she could get caught by her stepmother & stepsisters. What is Cater's "ball"? Well, because of his strong social media presence, his "ball" is basically everywhere, all the time. If something happens on social media that exposes his true self, breaking his "spell", not only can other students see it, but his sisters can also see it.

Cater hates sucking up to his older sisters, which implies that he has had to suck up to his older sisters and put up his happy front around them too. Just like how Cinderella can't afford to let her stepsisters realize her true identity at the ball, Cater can't afford to let his sisters realize his true self. It's honestly kind of sad; unlike Cinderella, whose stepsisters only showed up later in her life, Cater's older sisters have been around him and making him miserable for all of his life.

Kinda unrelated, but looking though Cater's chats, in the one he has with Trey they talk about the Queen of Hearts and her love for sweets, Cater remarks that he wants to have tea with her too, leading Trey to say that Cater would be unable to befriend her since they're in different social classes. Isn't this basically a genderbent version of Cinderella, just a commoner, wanting to go to the ball where the Prince is?

Now going back to Cater's personality. Even if he does fear his sisters, that doesn't seem to fully explain his 24/7 pep and focus on being magicammable. Now, what if we say that happiness=nobility. In Cinderella, she dresses up like nobility so she can remain in the ball where the actually rich people are. What if Cater is acting happy so he can fit in with the people around him, who are naturally happy enough that they don't need to fake it? Is this a fake it until you make it situation? At the end of his ceremony robes story, after he says he's tired and doesn't care about the ceremony, he says he's just kidding and goes back to talking about the selfies he took that day. Even though he's alone and wouldn't really get hurt for dropping his performance. It gives the vibe to me that his situation is not like Jamil's, where he's fully aware he's unhappy, deliberately acts otherwise in front of others, and tries to eliminate the cause of his unhappiness. Instead, Cater is trying to eliminate his unhappiness itself. He grasps onto magicam because if he fills up his account with pictures of a happy life, it's like he's actually living a happy life.

This idea I have of Cater trying to fit in also goes along with his focus on the current trends, like in one of his gym uniform voice lines where he panics at the idea of not knowing about a new popular game. Rather than making his own aesthetics or trends, he goes along with the crowd. Sweets and desserts are trendy? Then he'll take tons of pictures of them and say they're super delicious even if he actually hates sweet food. He disregards or evades his own preferences to create the appearance that he's just like everyone else, and he puts effort into staying up to date so he can maintain that appearance.

Moving on, I reread his halloween outfit personal story. Something that stuck out was the end, when Cater thinks that Lilia wouldn't understand what he's going through. Specifically, Lilia wouldn't understand his 下らなくてどーしよーもない feelings. According to jisho, 下らない can mean trivial/not worth bothering with/worthless, and it can also mean stupid/absurd/silly. Then, どーしよーもない (どうしようもない) means something that can't be helped, that has no way out of it. Doesn't this seem kind of odd? That he claims his feelings are just trivial then but also he can't help having them? Is this a contradiction? Or is it something like he believes that most people wouldn't have these silly feelings but he specifically is too weak to push past them?

For self-esteem though, he seems to at least be trying to boost it. Like in his gym uniform story, when he decides to just clone himself and have each one run 1 lap instead of him running 5 by himself, his clones all praise him for the idea. However, this could be a fake it until you make it thing again. The praise does seem a bit heavy-handed.

There's also the whole thing in the 2nd part of the story where he talks about all the shallow friendships he has made. He notes that he'd rather have a casual time with people rather than get attached. That plus his family situation... means he's really never had anyone to trust. Anyway, he then goes on to talk about how magicame is amazing for helping him maintain all these casual friendships. So there we have another reason for his social media addiction: not only does it let him create a picture of happiness, he can get tons of feedback affirming his happiness and serving as proof of happiness. How can he possibly be lonely if he has so many friends?

Both in his ceremony robes and halloween outfit stories have a moment where Cater is tired and admits he's tired but then downplays it. Yeah, the ceremony was tiring, but he got tons of great pictures out of it! Yeah, dealing with guests was rough, but at the same time all the halloween stuff was exciting! This sort of thing is a pretty common strategy for increasing the persuasiveness of an argument. By first agreeing (yes, he's tired) with the opposing view (he is not happy), he can then push his own view (he is happy) and point at his earlier concession as proof that he has looked at both sides of the issue instead of only looking for evidence of his own belief.

So basically what I'm getting here is that Cater Is Not Okay. Prevented from building close bonds with friends or family, he's reinforcing his isolation himself through his fervent efforts to never let anyone close and never let his mask drop. He's gone so far as to try and convince himself that he's happier than he actually is through self-deception and social media.

Alright that’s all I got for now see ya

#twst analysis #twisted wonderland #cater diamond #twst

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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THE DREAM

Before Harry could get started, Sirius turned pouting eyes on Lily, who was already excusing herself for the kitchen. She came back not too long later, with no food in sight.

"I set something to bake, it'll be done by the time we are with this chapter," she smiled pleasantly at the fact that she was clearly annoying Sirius. In truth, she'd made the heartiest meal she could think of, she still couldn't shake the image from her mind Sirius was losing weight by the minute.

Sirius didn't argue with her, but instead sat back in his seat with mutiny while Harry began.

Hermione was laying out the groundwork for the end results, ether Crouch attacked Krum, or someone attacked them both.

"So, I wonder what you guys are discussing." James chuckled in surprise.

"You know, I'm surprised at you though Harry," Remus turned to him. "Looking back, you sort of just ran off to do as you were told, didn't it occur to you to go to Hagrid first? He was closer?"*

Harry opened, then just as quickly closed his mouth, that was an obvious enough answer.

"Don't be like that Remus," Lily scolded at once with a sigh, "it's easy to think of those things after the fact, as you just did."

He shrugged in acknowledgment even if he was still puzzled at Harry for it. Clearly the act of doing what he was told by the Dursleys still hadn't really ever left him, or he trusted Dumbledore more than Hagrid, either way it was odd to him.

Ron was insisting Crouch was the true criminal here, he'd sent Harry to get Dumbledore so he could run.

"While I'd love for him to get sent to a very certain place for pulling a stunt like that," Sirius declared with a nasty look in place, "it fails me to see why he'd do that. Why come all the way up to the school just to pull a stunt like that?"

"You got me," Lily sighed, "the whole situation feels like something out of a murder mystery novel, and I always hate reading those."

Harry disagreed, saying Crouch had looked too weak to be pulling stunts like that, then offering himself a Disapparition.

Hermione said, for the umpteenth time, you couldn't do that on Hogwarts grounds!

"You might have to say it a few more times, just to make sure he got it," James smirked at Harry's eye roll.

Ron tackled a new theory, that Krum attacked Crouch, and then stunned himself.

Remus burst out laughing at this level of enthusiasm from him trying to figure this out, and though he could poke many holes in that, he couldn't deny Ron's spirit.

Hermione's cool response was to remind that Crouch had just evaporated then?

"How come we're not speculating on this?" Sirius pouted, "I've got a few ideas-"

"No Sirius," Lily said at once. "I want as little to do with that man as possible, and having to listen to what happened to him might satisfy you, but it'll only infuriate me more having to hear his name."

"It really won't bother you to at least try to guess what happened?" Remus asked her in surprise.

"I honestly couldn't care less what did, no matter what it was." She stated in no uncertain terms. "If you two want to chat about it later, leave me out of it."

Sirius grumbled at her being a killjoy, but James more than agreed with his wife on this one and waved Harry on.

It was the crack of dawn, and the three of them had never gone to bed. Instead they were on their way up to the Owlery to send a note of all this to Sirius.

"About time," Sirius' pouting increased, he couldn't believe how long it took Harry to get around to that, he should have used his cloak and done it without Dumbledore's say so!

Everyone disagreed with Sirius about that though, now that Harry was one hundred percent away from that, they didn't want Sirius anywhere near it either.

They were all puffy-eyed from exhaustion having stayed up all night discussing the events.

"Of all the fun, late night conversations you could have been having," James groaned. Would it kill his son to have a fun conversation once in a while like a normal kid?

Hermione was coaching Harry to give them a full account one more time.

When Harry got the part about Crouch saying everything was all his fault, he'd even brought up his own son, Hermione agreed that was Crouch's fault.

Harry made a testy noise of agreement along with everyone else, no one was cutting Crouch any slack in here.

Ron asked for a recount of the You-Know-Who part.

Harry repeated all the mention was, that he was getting stronger.

"Because that's always encouraging," James moaned, letting his head fall back against the cushions as the mention of Voldemort always caused such a horrid stirring in him lately even more than it had before his adult son fell into his living room. Now all he could picture was someone who was once a brother making that possible, when Voldemort was the reason he couldn't be there for his son! How on earth had Pettigrew ever worked out that this was okay, that he could continue going along with it? He tried to force himself to keep listening in on Harry, those kinds of questions kept plaguing him in what little time he actually spent asleep, he refused to dwell on it longer than he could.

Ron tried to force some confidence into his voice that this was the speaking's of a madman

"Here's to hope!" Sirius mock raised a glass, which he honestly wished was filled right now.

but Harry corrected he'd spoken of Voldemort when he was in his saner moments. Ron winced as always at the use of the real name.

"You been saying that nearly four years and he still flinches?" Remus asked in surprise.

"As well as Hermione," Harry agreed.

"I wish you'd start referring to him as Riddle," James muttered sullenly, this wasn't helping him feel any better, but he'd never miss an opportunity to mock either. "Be a nice knock to his ego and something everyone might catch on."

Harry honestly never thought about why he hadn't, he supposed the Riddle he met down in the Chamber had just seemed like such a wholly other person it was hard to put that together with the monster who had murdered his parents and so calling him Voldemort somehow made that make more sense.

Harry bitterly put in that if Snape hadn't held him up, they could know what had really happened.

"I absolutely believe that," Sirius snarled.

"Still can't believe anyone so cruel can be allowed in the school," James agreed bitterly.

Lily was still more pissed than anything Snape even still had his job after what he'd done to Remus last year, but this more than anything should have gotten him sacked! What if someone had really been hurt, and he'd just stood in the way and taunted Harry? What teacher could actually get away with that even if they had the audacity to do it?

Harry mockingly quoted Snape as he'd told of what rubbish his story was, and Harry followed up with demanding why Snape hadn't just moved.

"The man would murder his own child if he thought it would upset you," Sirius barked.

Remus gave him a sideways look for that disgusting metaphor, but Sirius raised a brow back to emphasize he wasn't taking it back. Not like anyone would get near that slimy little thing anyways to make it true.

Ron speculated that what if he'd done it all on purpose, what if he'd actually gotten down to the Forest before Harry and Dumbledore had made it?

"I really don't see how," James's face puckered with thought. "Dumbledore appeared and you two made a straight beeline there. Unless he jumped out the window and flew..." he trailed off with a shake of his head, still admiring Ron for keeping at this.

Harry said it wasn't possible unless he could turn into a bat.

"Would not put that past him," Sirius huffed.

Ron muttered he would not put that past him.

Sirius beamed and even Remus chuckled a bit at that one.

Hermione voiced that they needed to go see Moody, to see if he'd found Crouch or anything after they'd all left.

Harry agreed it should have been easy for him if he had the Map.

"Ture that," James nodded along.

"Hey, you think that's how he knew to come down in the first place?" Remus' eyes lit with understanding. "He was lying about Snape telling him, I can't believe otherwise, but maybe he hasn't told Dumbledore about the Map and he made that up on the spot."

"Why wouldn't he tell Dumbledore about the map?" Lily asked in surprise.

"It's on loan from Harry," Sirius reminded forcefully, he'd give that old auror hell if anything was said otherwise, "it's not his to tell about, Moody's respecting that while he's using it."

Nobody disagreed with him, though Harry could still feel a little niggle in him telling him that wasn't really everything.

Ron reminded it only showed up to the school's boundaries, so if-

He was cut off by Hermione shushing him as two more voices approached talking about blackmail.

"What on earth are these folks up to?" James couldn't help but smile in surprise.

"You lot spent way too much time getting blackmail on everyone in the castle," Lily grumbled.

"We did no such thing," Sirius said at once on reflex.

"We were merely keeping an ear out for certain rumors," James added on from old habits, his eyes flickering to Remus and away, "and just happened to come across other things on the way."

All of the boys felt an odd twitch possess them as they realized who should have finished that old joke, what his line would have been less than a week ago and how much they'd all missed having him around. Remus didn't know how he felt about it, he didn't know how the other two would feel about it, but the nasty lingering silence had to feel worse than him finishing instead, "and we only put it to good use."

James ruffled up his hair in unease and Sirius quickly forced a smile that looked almost painful, and Harry quickly read past the moment.

The other told that they'd tried the polite way, now it was time to play dirty unless their blackmailed target wanted them to get the Ministry involved.

The three Marauders had gotten so distracted by their own problem they'd almost forgotten what had started the mess, and weren't nearly as entertained as they knew they should have been by listening to this.

The first was still insisting it was the act of blackmail!

The second was just saying how the complaining would stop once they're payoff came in, when Fred and George walked into view.

"You said what now?" Lily balked, finally dragging worried eyes off her husband to land on Harry.

Harry was blinking down at the pages in shock, some wire in his brain going crazy as he knew he was finally getting to the bottom of how odd Fred and George had been acting all year!

Either the boys were still distracted by their own problem and were only half listening, or too stunned to speak, Harry quickly read out the exchange to silence.

Both parties stayed frozen, until Ron and Fred spoke at once of what the other was doing here?

"Oh lookie, now they're even mimicking each other in the books," Sirius said with a forced smile.

Harry and George responded in unison of sending a letter.

James honestly cracked a grin, egging Harry on and hoping this would continue.

While Hermione and Fred pointed out what time it was.

Now all five of them were giggling, there had never been a better timing for that release.

Fred broke the train first, forcing a smile and saying he wouldn't ask them, if they didn't ask.

He was holding a sealed letter, but whoever it was written for Harry didn't get a chance to read. Whether accidentally or not, George shifted just enough that the words were covered.

"On purpose," the other four said at once.

"Those boys have far too much experience by now to at least try otherwise," Lily told.

Fred tried to wave them out the door, but Ron asked who they were blackmailing?

"Blunt as a brick to the face," James beamed after his own laughing fit.

The twins smile vanished at once, before George played it off as a joke.

Ron insisted it hadn't sounded that way, then the twins exchanged a glance.

"These two are doing remarkably poor at this," Remus looked so disappointed.

"I know, you'd really think they'd learned diversionary tactics by now," Sirius nodded furiously, "change the topic to the most outlandish thing they can until they can slip away."

"You think that would work on their brother?" Lily asked, "Especially one as stubborn as Ron?"

"Worth a shot," James shrugged.

"Better than what they're doing, which is nothing," Remus agreed.

Fred abruptly switched to violence, telling Ron to let it go or he'd take his nose off.

"Oh, threats, that works much better," James rolled his eyes.

"Especially as we've never once seen them carry through on them," Sirius sighed in disappointment, he'd had such high hopes for these twins, yet they couldn't even evade their own brother.

"What are you lot trying to protect the twins for anyways," Harry grumbled in annoyance as a twitching continued just behind his eye. "You want to know what they're up to just as much as me."

"True," Lily instantly agreed.

"But we'd be remiss not to pass on our wisdom," James finished obviously.

Harry fought down the urge to point out the twins weren't here to be receiving this, nor did Harry have much use for it, but simply decided to ignore them.

Ron insisted this was his business if there was blackmail involved, this sounded like serious trouble.

"No one could be in as much trouble as I am," Sirius said instantly.

"That one was actually true," James nodded along, "I'm not even mad at you for that one."

"Miracles do happen," Remus smirked.

George insisted he'd been joking! Clearly thinking they'd argued long enough, he took the letter from his brother, tied it to the nearest owl, and told Ron he was starting to sound like Percy. If he kept acting this way, he was headed for a prefect.

The other's made noises of agitation that the twins were brushing this off, this really had carried on long enough it wasn't funny anymore and actually had verged into honest worry of what those two were up to. No one noticed a funny little smile on Harry's face for George's comment.

Ron snapped back that would never happen!

Harry couldn't stop a surprised bit of laughter even if he had no idea where it came from, though this did draw Remus' attention as he pouted, "and what's so funny? You going to stop hanging around Ron if he does become one?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the joke, shrugging and saying, "don't know, just imagining what the twins would really say if it did happen I guess."

George pitched the owl out of the tower as he concluded for Ron to stop poking his nose where it belonged then.

They left as quickly as they'd come.

Hermione whispered anyways if they could have any news to do with Crouch?

"Way," James drew the word out dramatically, "off topic. There's no way they should even have a clue Crouch was on school grounds unless you lot have mentioned it."

Harry shook his head no, it had gone without saying in his opinion that they hadn't exactly spread this story around.

"It does still boggle the mind what they are doing," Sirius sighed, "it's been going on for ages."

"And escalating," Lily agreed, fear still lacing her tones.

Harry said no at once, they'd never get into something so serious and not tell someone.

"Well of course you'd tell me," Sirius gave Harry as wide eyed a stare as he could, "why would you do anything else?"

It boggled all of their minds how Harry still laughed at this.

Ron didn't looked as convinced, sharing how they'd been going on about needing money for their joke shop, they'd talked about it all the time when, ah well-

Harry supplied for him, when he and Ron hadn't been talking.

"Much quieter and boring times," Harry added on when he saw how agitated they all got at the reminder. They'd clearly forgiven Ron for it, but it didn't stop them being annoyed when it was brought back up.

Hermione still wasn't convinced they'd go as far as blackmail.

Ron insisted they were really into this joke shop, whereas before Ron had just thought they were doing it to annoy their Mum.

"I never thought that for a second!" Sirius yelped indignantly.

They only had a year of school left and were really looking for some ways to make gold.

"But, they already have it, don't they?" James struggled to remember back, "I don't remember how much exactly, but they put a huge price up for that bet of the World Cup, and earned it back double. Bagman paid them back, so unless they've already wasted that away and are trying to get more..." he trailed off with a frown still in place.

"You think they're trying to blackmail Bagman?" Sirius asked in concern. "Trying to convince him to give them more so they can keep going?"

"It would explain why they keep hounding him as much as he is to Harry," Remus agreed uneasily.

Lily was biting at her lip, still wanting to believe the twins would never actually do this, but it was getting hard to come up with alternatives.

Harry was starting to look a little green around the edges, he was utterly convinced they were on the right track with this...but something was wrong, or backwards, or- he forced his mind to cut off before the ache in his head developed further.

Hermione still didn't think they'd do anything like break the law for gold.

None of them were any kind of happy that they couldn't one hundred percent say no to that. They wouldn't claim to know the twins well enough, and well, blackmail wasn't a happy start to the conversation.

Ron wasn't as convinced, saying they broke rules all the time.

"There's a difference between school rules and the actual law," Lily groaned, more for the Marauders benefit than anyone else's, who all blatantly ignored her.

Hermione insisted this was different! They could get a lot worse than detention for this! Maybe they should tell Percy-

"Ouch!" Sirius jumped like he'd been set aflame. "Merlin Hermione, have you no shame, setting those brothers against each other like that!"

"Leave the twins to do their own thing, and they're own consequences," Lily agreed, "Telling on them won't make anything better."

Harry was surprised at his mother actually agreeing with these boys, as often as she tried to scold them, but then he reflected how despite her disapproval of it, she hadn't gone and turned them in for their illegal animagus status either.

Ron told her she was mad telling Percy! He'd do a Crouch and turn them in.

"I, honestly think I believe that," James shivered, "and in no way want to dwell on it."

"Blackmail isn't bad enough to get you a stint in Azkaban," Lily barely got the word out without flushing in anger all over again and throwing a protective look to Sirius, "they'd be severely fined for it, maybe put on watch for a while to make sure they didn't try again."

"Moving on," Remus groaned, honestly still clinging to the hope that Percy wouldn't do any such thing at all.

There was a shifty silence for a moment before Ron insisted they go get breakfast.

Hermione tried to say they should go see Moody first, but Harry pointed out it would be bad to try at this hour, he'd probably attack them in his sleep.

"I believe that," Sirius instantly agreed, trying to force a smile in place at a topic switch. "Who wants to bet he's got his office booby trapped with trip wires to send people to Iceland if they so much as put a toe in there without his knowing."

"Stop exaggerating Sirius," Lily sighed, already growing weary of this chapter and looking forward to lunch just to get a momentary break from his commentary.

Instead he said they'd wait until their break.

History of Magic was usually torturously slow, but even though Harry kept checking Ron's watch to be sure, time seemed to move twice as slow as usual

"I'm sure Ron just loved sharing his arm with you all lesson," James chuckled.

All three of them were exhausted from their sleepless night and would have happily started snoozing,

"I see no reason why you didn't," Remus shrugged, "I know I was guilty of that on several occasions."

"And Binns never said a word, no matter how loud he snored," Sirius smirked.

even Hermione wasn't taking her usual notes, but was sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor Binns with her eyes out of focus.

Sirius let out a wild gasp of shock, tearing the book away and holding it up to the light and declaring, "What nonsense is this! Say it ain't so, we've all been duped, there's no way this is real!"

Everyone was too busy laughing as Harry tried to wrestle the book back away with a grin in place to say anything.

When the bell did ring, they sprinted off to find Moody just leaving his office, and he looked in as bad a shape as them. His normal eye half sagging with sleep, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual.

"I just realized, he literally always sleeps with one eye open," Remus raised a curious brow.

"He's an artist's nightmare to draw," Sirius chuckled, remembering a few of James rants when he tried to sketch someone and their eyes came out lopsided, "all those disproportionate features, no one would ever believe the drawing wasn't abstract."

James gave an agreeable laugh he didn't really feel, he was still very weirded out trying to picture the whole thing and had no want to take Sirius' joke as a challenge as he normally would have.

He stood back to let them into his empty classroom, limped in after them, and closed the door.

Harry called for his attention, and when Moody spotted them, he waited until the corridor was clear before inviting them inside.

"Well, we didn't transport to Iceland," Harry reminded Sirius.

"I said if you snuck in there," Sirius emphasized, "keep up Harry."

Harry asked if they'd found Crouch, and when receiving a no, asked if he'd used the Map?

Moody said of course he had, he'd summoned it to him on the grounds when Dumbledore sent him off looking.

"Well there goes our idea of how he even knew to come down," Remus groaned in frustration. "I can't believe he'd be so careless as to both be looking, and then not grabbing when he left. It's too much of an oversight to him."

"Maybe Harry will ask again how he knew to come down," Lily pacified.

Ron again suggested he Disapparated, only for Hermione to say in exasperation that wasn't possible!

Then she turned to Moody and said there are other ways he could have disappeared though.

Moody watched her steadily as he said she'd make quite the Auror,

"Nah, can't picture it," Sirius shook his head. "She still panics a little too easily."

"You're never going to let that troll thing go," Harry rolled his eyes at him.

"Or the Devil's Snare," James agreed.

with a mind like hers.

"I'll give that one though," Lily shook her head, "Hermione's going to go great places, wouldn't surprise me if she shot up the Ministry ladder faster than Percy, became the youngest head of whatever department she chose."

Harry had a kind smile in place, knowing he had no clue what the real answer was, but very assured his mother was right.

Hermione flushed with pleasure while Harry told Moody that the Map even showed those who were invisible, so Crouch must have left the grounds.

Hermione still questioned if he'd done it himself, or someone forced him to.

"He was acting to out of it for it to be the first, I can't believe anyone's that good an actor. I'm, going with the second?" Remus still managed to make it a question more than a statement, there was just too much weirdness around this and they had no clue what it could be connected to. Their top suspects would have been Snape or Karkaroff, but both had some pretty good alibis, so they had absolutely nothing to work with.

Ron gave the suggestion that someone could have pulled him onto a broom and flown away,

"Now that's a fair theory," James eyes lit with excitement. "Actually I quite like it, the more I'm thinking. Sneak attack on Krum who wouldn't have seen it coming, and the way Crouch was going on, did anyone else get the feeling he was being held against his will or something? I believe he mentioned the word escaped. This mystery person would have been pursuing him."

"So, who then?" Sirius insisted. "Must be a Death Eater," his face twitched with hatred but he kept going, "so is Voldemort still recruiting, and Crouch was one of his targets? Crouch would know where a ton of Death Eaters were, I'll bet he keeps a list of people he thinks are some and where they are from when they'd have gotten off at some point or another."

While this was looking promising, Harry was starting to feel a little sick to his stomach and didn't feel like indulging them as much as usual, so he asked if he could go on and they could keep speculating later.

looking hopefully at Moody as if he too wanted to be told he had the makings of an Auror.

"Poor Ron," James muttered absently.

Moody agreed they weren't ruling out a kidnaping.

Ron asked if it was possible he was somewhere in Hogsmeade?

"Don't go suggesting that!" James said so sharply it made everyone else jump. "Sirius is hanging around there, I don't want Moody anywhere closer to the area than he has to be."

"Alright, breathe Prongs," Sirius pacified at once, his eyes were still a little too dark. "You know Ron didn't mean anything by it, Moody doesn't know about Padfoot, and I want Crouch found, so it was sound enough."

James did not look appeased enough to take it back.

Moody agreed he could be anywhere that wasn't here.

Harry's stomach ache took a nasty turn, whether heading up or down he wasn't sure, but it didn't take much to figure out that meant something to him, something bad.

Moody switched then to telling he'd heard of their previous detective work, and he didn't want to hear of it this time. He and Dumbledore were working this, Harry needed to stay focused on his third task.

Harry asked what he meant.

"Do you have very many other numbered tasks we should be concerned about?" Lily asked in surprise.

"It kind of slipped my mind after the whole Crouch thing," Harry admitted sheepishly.

Then his mind caught up, and Harry realized he hadn't thought about that since he'd left the field with Krum.

"Honestly can't blame you though," James shrugged, "this was plenty distracting."

Moody told Harry that he'd heard of some of Potters previous exploits and this last task should be easy enough for him compared to those challenges about the Stone.

"I still swear on my wand that was too easy for a bunch of first years," Lily grumbled hatefully, that had been one of her first problems with Dumbledore, and it had only gotten worse.

"Moody's got a point though," Remus said fairly, "Harry does have some practice with this, this task sounds at least doable for him."

"Joyful," James deadpanned, "you'll excuse me if I'm not a bundle of glee he's still in there."

Remus rolled his eyes at them but stopped arguing.

Ron quickly said he and Hermione had helped him along.

"And there's that," Sirius nodded, "Harry did get help through the majority of those things, he really only caught that key from Flitwick."

"And stopped Voldemort," Harry reminded with some unease, the act of having second hand killed Quirrell still giving him nightmares sometimes.

"Not trying to forget that exactly," James promised, "but it's not exactly a fun reminder."

He pulled out his hip flask then and took a large swig of it as his magical eye kept on them.

Harry wondered why every time that hip flask was mentioned he felt his gut tightening up. Maybe he was regretting not having ever gotten one of his own?

Moody grinned at Ron, telling him to stick by that and Potter, could never have too many eyes on him.

"As normally I'm not out of their company," Harry rolled his eyes at this display of paranoia, "I don't see that being a problem."

Sirius sent their owl back the very next morning.

"So I'm guessing these caves are going to be a permanent thing," James was actually smiling in relief, while he'd been against the idea originally, he couldn't deny he liked the idea of Sirius' quick replies.

"Why did it still take you a whole day?" Remus asked in surprise, "should have been able to reply in hours."

"I'm probably not inside all that much," Sirius shrugged, he liked to imagine he was reliving old memories by snooping around Hogsmeade and the Forest.

Hermione only delayed his reading it by doing a quick search of her copy of the Daily Prophet and informing them there was no new information before Harry read out.

It did not start happy, with Sirius scolding Harry for going off with Krum.

"Wow Padfoot," James raised a brow at his friend that Sirius couldn't quite interpret. It made him uneasy, since he could usually read James in an instant and go along, but this time he honestly wasn't sure if he was being mocked, or if James was being jealous again that he was scolding Harry.

Sirius opened, then closed his mouth since he wasn't sure which way he was supposed to be talking, but Harry had mostly ignored the pair, reading on with an agitated look in place for how this had started.

He wanted a swear by return of this owl Harry would not be going out at night again.

"Yes sir," Harry told him tartly, some residual shock that anyone even cared that much to tell him to do otherwise not putting enough force behind the sarcasm.

Sirius was starting to look flustered now, he wasn't used to being so wrong-footed and now both of them were giving him a spin.

There was somebody at Hogwarts trying to hurt Harry, and it was obvious someone stopped Crouch from seeing Dumbledore feet away from Harry, he could have been killed.

"Aww," Lily couldn't help but coo, clearly fixing to follow that up with a thank you for Sirius acting like an adult, while Remus pantomimed while she wasn't looking about him being whipped; clearly getting his revenge for all the times Sirius had teased him of this advice previously.

"I'm going to strangle the lot of you!" Sirius threatened as he hit his wits end.

Harry's name had not been in that Goblet by accident, someone was trying to hurt him and this task was their last chance. Stay in the company of Ron and Hermione, and do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours. Stay focused on the third task and start practicing Stunning and Disarming jinxes, as well as hexes. Keep his nose out of whatever Crouch was doing and keep his head down. He'd be waiting for that promise of not going out.

He didn't even sign off as Snuffles, but Sirius.

Harry finished and looked up at his Godfather expectantly, though Sirius had no clue what he was wanting. "What? You waiting for me to apologize? That was sound advice."

"You just agreed with me at the end of the last chapter Hagrid was overreacting," Harry rolled his eyes at him, "I figured you'd do it again for yourself."

"I'll apologize when you admit you weren't thinking," Sirius shot back. "It was foolhardy even if Krum wasn't the problem, you haven't once this year actually acted like your life's been threatened."

"That's rich coming from you," Harry scowled back, "since you won't admit for a second how stupid and dangerous it is to even be in the country."

"I'm getting scared," Lily whispered to Remus as the two kept sniping at each other.

"Harry's certainly growing more and more outspoken about being told what to do the longer this drags on," Remus nodded along, grimacing slightly as he reminded, "but to be fair, no one's ever really earned the right to tell him what to do. Aside from the teachers at Hogwarts, Harry's never exactly had a good role model for authority, Sirius included."

It hurt in the worst way for the mother to be reminded of this, but she conceded the point.

James had been watching on in honest bemusement as Harry and Sirius kept trying to tell each other what idiots the other was being, but finally he cut in, "alright, you're both idiots, can we move on."

"Hey!" Harry and Sirius yelped at the same time, but then they exchanged a grin for that and Harry decided to let it go.

Harry was instantly insulted that Sirius was telling him off for being out of bounds after everything he'd ever done.

Harry gave Sirius an extra look that his point had been said twice, which Sirius acknowledge in the most adult way possible, sticking his tongue out at him and muttering petulantly about how different that was.

Hermione reminded he was just worried, and Harry needed to listen to him.

Harry insisted no one had tried to attack him all year, no one had done anything.

"Which, if you think about it, is the weird part," Remus acknowledged.

He winced when he got some nasty looks for that, but Harry defended, "well he is right. So far it's just been the dragon and some grindylows. So unless someone is hoping I'd gone out with these tasks, it's not exactly been that bad." He finished with an absent minded frown on his face he didn't even seem to realize was there for his own saying this.

He did not get any pleased responses from anyone for pointing this out, nor did he himself feel much better for the reminder. Something about this third task, it was going to be a big game changer, the closer it got the more sure he was of that.

Hermione pointed out the Goblet of Fire, someone had put his name in there for a reason and maybe they'd just been biding their time till now.

They all shivered at that, Harry hardest of all as he heard some color of truth in what she'd said.

Harry insisted that even if Sirius was right,

"I can see how well you took to Snuffles," Sirius gave a half hearted smirk.

Harry did give a sheepish shrug for that, admitting he had been terrible about that one, Hermione and Ron were much better at remembering.

and the person who attacked attacked Crouch and Krum had been right by him, then clearly Harry wasn't the target. They'd waited until he'd left to do anything.

"I think that's giving the kidnappers too much credit," James shuddered at the thought. "They must have just caught up at the best opportune time when you weren't there."

"Still," Remus sighed, "the timing of it all really isn't feeling much better."

Hermione shot back they couldn't make it look like accidental murder in front of the forest.

"She's just sunshine and rainbows lately," Lily scowled in response to that statement.

Harry insisted it could have been done, someone could have made it look like he and Krum and dulled to death.

"You are making some great points," Sirius acknowledged, the only apology Harry was going to get for that letter.

Hermione was getting desperate as she agreed she didn't understand this, but Moody and Sirius were right,

"No one sticks with Snuffles for long," Remus forced a laugh.

"That's your fault Moony," Sirius smirked, "you need to come up with more obscure nicknames."

he needed to be prepared for this last task. And he needed to send that letter to Sirius promising he wasn't going to be sneaking around.

"Pretty sure that owl's flown off by now," James shrugged, "so you've already not done as told, and you'll have to grab a new one."

"You're just full of helpful advice," Harry grumbled.

The Hogwarts grounds never looked more inviting than when Harry had to stay indoors.

Harry looked all the more disgruntled at this happening to him at the end of the semester, again! He wanted to ask Sirius if he was happy with himself this time, but that comment just felt too vicious, he didn't want to bring up last year.

For the next few days he spent all of his free time either in the library with Hermione and Ron,

"At some point, I think you three forgot you were Gryffindor's," Remus looked on in pity for Harry, "and you're trying to convince Pince to let you start a new house in the library."

"You're certainly in there enough," James sighed.

looking up spells they could practice in empty classrooms.

Harry was practicing his Stunning Spell.

"You would think it would be easier than Petrificus Totalus," Harry sighed, "the body seizes up and then falls, Stupify just makes you fall on the spot."

"It takes much longer to wear off without Innervate though, so there's more power behind a Stunners magic," Remus told. "Petrificus Totalus will wear off in half the time."

"Trust him on this," Sirius muttered in disgust, "takes nearly an hour for a stunner to go away."

Harry sadly remembered Sirius telling him about the time Snape had managed to stun him and leave him behind a broom shed, so he didn't question the experience.

The trouble was that practicing it involved certain sacrifices on Ron and Hermione's part.

"Those poor kids," Lily winced in pity.

"There's really no other way to learn though," Remus shrugged without remorse, "sadly they just don't know about embedding cushioning charms on the floor for this particular lesson."

"There's no better way than to practice on a moving target," James agreed.

Ron suggested trying this on Mrs. Norris,

"I would not recommend it," Sirius said instantly. "Filch will know, and he will not wait for permission to gut you."

"Speaking from more experience?" Harry asked wearily.

"Thankfully not me," Sirius said with the height of innocence, "but I did hear a rumor of some Hufflepuff taking revenge on Filch out on his cat, poor kid was never seen alive again."

Harry had no clue how much truth was being put in this, but he was laughing at Sirius again and he didn't want to ask.

after his fifth time in a row landing on the floor. If they didn't want to use the cat, then Harry could at least try Dobby, he'd do it happily.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" Sirius theatrically clapped his forehead, "do you realize how much better I could have felt any number of times if I'd just summoned Kreacher to me and cursed him!"

"Let's just be thankful it never occurred to you," Remus said quickly as Lily gave him a nasty look for that.

He insisted he wasn't complaining,

"Well offering up alternatives isn't complaining per say," James agreed.

while rubbing at his side.

"But honestly I don't blame Ron for complaining," James smiled sadly, "at least he's being a trooper and allowing it to be done to him, I think that involves a little moaning when he lands."

Hermione pointed out he kept missing the pillows she'd laid out for him to land on. He should try falling backwards.

"Did she just try to tell a stunned person where to fall?" Lily giggled in surprise. "I don't think even Hermione could manage that."

Ron told her to take a try and see how she did.

Hermione decided it was time Harry moved on from that spell.

Causing them all to laugh, clearly Hermione wasn't up to taking her own advice.

There was no point practicing Disarming, he'd been able to do that one for a while.

"Always with impressive results," the boys laughter doubled even more as Lily said that, though taking a minute for her to realize the last time Harry had done that, and admitted a bit of a giggle escaped her as well.

Instead she wanted to try out this Impediment Curse, which slowed things down.

"I enjoyed the recreational uses of that spell," Sirius got a lazy grin. "It's the best thing to throw something at someone, using the Impediment Curse on it, and watch them freak out and dive for cover as something went towards them in slow motion."

"Thankfully that joke did wear off fast enough," James chuckled.

"But the looks on their faces were priceless," Remus snickered.

The bell rang before they could try, and Hermione promised to see them at dinner as she ran for her Arithmancy class while the boys went for Divination.

No one exactly looked excited for this, but they were hoping for a few more laughs to crop up so no one protested either. Harry was the only one who didn't seem to be looking forward to this, the ghost of his scar prickling across his forehead as foreboding as it could get.

The sun was still gleaming in the sky as they went up the spiral stairs, and Ron groaned how hot it was going to be in the room, Trelawney never put out that fire.

"Ergh," they winced in sympathy for that heat stroke waiting to happen.

Ron was right, the room was a sauna with the thick curtains and the fireplace crackling as high as ever. Harry took his usual seat next to the shadows and pried open a window while the teacher wasn't watching so that a nice breeze could at least blow in on him.

"There's my ingenuity shining through," James beamed at his son.

"Yes," Lily rolled her eyes at him, "I'm so sure only you could have the power of knowledge in opening a window on a hot day."

"Don't be jealous our son got everything from me," James teased back.

Trelawney called attention as she took her seat, saying today they would be focusing on the planet Mars.

"Ah the Roman god of war," Sirius rolled his eyes, "I'm not surprised that would be her second favorite one."

She pulled a planetarium up for all to see, and while she began dissecting the planets orbits in conjunction with each other, Harry felt his eyes drifting shut, the breeze blowing clean air into his face as an insect hummed somewhere nearby.

Harry wasn't remotely feeling sleepy now, on the contrary as some deep sense of warning was trying to go off in his head so loud, though he had no clue what the connection could be. Surely not to a bug, or even dozing off in class like he was clearly doing.

He was riding on the back of an eagle owl, soaring through the clear blue sky,

"Finally it sounds like one of your dreams is something normal," James smiled. "I can't count the number of times I've dreamed of flying, though normally for me it's on a broom, not a bird."

"I think he's subconsciously missing Buckbeak," Sirius chuckled.

Everyone was laughing happily around Harry, it was such a wonderful sound to him. Even after these days he spent with them, it was still always a happy feeling to realize he was just sitting around and listening to his family laugh...so why was he getting such a bad feeling about having to keep going?

He was going through the window of an ivy swarmed house, and landing in a high backed chair.

The longer Harry read, the tighter his voice was getting, like someone was slowly strangling him while he forced this out. The laughter had already died out, but no one bothered to interrupt him to ask why as they must be about to get an answer.

Two shapes were moving, one on the floor, the other writhing on the floor. It was a squat man with watery eyes and a pointed nose.

The growl that erupted from everyone was not unexpected the moment the description registered, and though Harry felt like he was reading past a nail spike driving through his brain as this was being returned to him, he was suddenly very grateful he was the one to be reading this. No one liked to hear more mention of this rat after all, but at least Harry could pretend to force past it without threatening murder every other word.

He was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug. . .

James wished this feeling would go away, this bleeding conflict he felt whenever he heard of Peter like this like he had the first time. He didn't know why the rat was acting like that, but he knew with everything in him he deserved it for giving him up, for causing his death and Lily's and what should have been Harry's. He wanted to just feel that murder pulsing through him, rather than anything else...

A voice like pure ice spoke of Wormtail's luck, how fortunate he was his blunder had been fixed and he was dead.

Harry was entirely concerned when no one in here rhetorically asked who that 'he' could be, but that was the kind of reaction mentioning this betrayer wrought in them, nowhere near their normal personalities.

The shadow on the floor gasped its pleasure for the news, and how sorry he still was for it all.

James felt like he was the only one paying attention to the actual words rather than the festering thoughts everyone else was harboring at the mention of him, so he was certain he was the only one trying to figure out what exactly he'd done to be apologizing for, not that he cared one bit, it could only be good news for them.

The cold voice continued ignoring him, instead telling Nagini she was out of luck, she would not be eating Wormtail,

"Here I am again, pitying a snake."

Harry never would have believed that was Sirius if he hadn't been keeping an uneasy eye on him.

but there was still Harry Potter.

Harry looked flummoxed that his being fed to a snake was part of any plan, but even if someone did want to voice their outrage at it, he was reading too fast to let them.

The snakes tongue flicked in the direction of the voice as it continued addressing Wormtail.

In between her mental tirade of wanting to rip every last one of his remaining fingers off, Lily was still trying to understand why Voldemort called him that. Her mind must have been working on it in her recess while she tried to ignore it, because now the only idea she could offer up was Voldemort using that as a derogatory on the rat. What had once been an affectionate nickname given to him by his friends for his rat animal was now being turned on its head by the very man he'd served those friends up to, the rat status still stood but now in the darkest way possible.

Saying he would be given one more reminder of his blunder.

Wormtail begged for mercy even as the shout of Crucio rang.

Sirius should have been far more concerned that he didn't feel a damn thing except disappointment that wasn't him using that curse. Crucio wasn't even the beginning of what he owed that rat, twelve years in Azkaban for starters, then he'd work his way up to other tortures from there.

Wormtail was screaming, every nerve in his body alight with pain, and Harry was screaming just as loud through the fire in his forehead,

If anything could snap them back to the actual purpose of this story rather than sucking on revenge, it was Harry, and him reading in a tight pain laced voice as he remembered this set all of them back on the opposite edge of how they felt for the rat.

he had to stop, or Voldemort would hear him.**

Harry was surprised when the walls didn't shake with them, they were all trembling by the end though for all very different reasons. Too many emotions raining too high to deeply question what needed to be asked, number one of which was: why was Harry still seeing this!? They'd by no means forgotten the first time, but as no new information had arisen from anyone regarding this, they had nothing new to go on, and too much of a chance of it dissolving into another break out attempt in their temper if they tried to dissect it.

Someone was shouting his name, and Harry came back to himself on Trelawney's floor, his hands covering his face as tears burned his eyes from the pain of his scar.

Harry was making sure to breathe slowly through his nose, concentrating on every word so that he wouldn't be thinking on that pain that he could all too vividly remember now. It helped nothing when he glanced up and saw all the scared white faces around him for what this could mean.

The whole class was hovering over him, Ron right by his head as he whispered if Harry was alright?

"Oh he's just spiffing, and you?" Remus got out, surprised when he tasted copper in his mouth after swallowing, he must have bitten his tongue at some point to stop himself screaming in outrage.

Trelawney told Ron of course he wasn't, while looking excitedly down at Harry.

Lily found something to break her temper on, and it wasn't pretty. "Are you kidding me? Is there not one bloody useful teacher in that school! First Snape now her, what in Merlin's sack is wrong with these people! He was on the floor, in pain, and she's excited! I swear if a student didn't take the initiative to run off to get Madam Pomfrey I'm going to curse every last one of them!"

In retrospect that was way too harsh for her, they knew if this had happened in say McGonagall's class or basically any other teacher except these two it would have gotten the proper response of the adult making sure Harry was okay, but no one could blame her heaving chest and wild eyed outrage.

Harry honestly felt in fear for his life if he actually tried to keep going while she was still like this, all for letting her get it all out now, but she seemed to have at least temporarily restrained herself and sat a look on him that said in no uncertain terms for him to keep going.

She demanded what Harry had been seeing, a premonition?

"And this is why no one was disagreeing with you Lily," James looked just as outraged as his wife at this lack of concern for their son, but he was more quietly scheming in the back of his head what exactly he planned to do to Trelawney as payback.

Harry instantly lied it was nothing while struggling to his feet, flinching at every shadow and sure he could still hear Voldemort uttering that curse.

Harry couldn't suppress another shiver for that, that terrible voice still echoing in the back of his mind. Thankfully no corner of this room was shadowed, the warm lights and cozy fireplace in exact opposite of Trelawney's eerie room, and he was surrounded on all sides feeling very safe.

Trelawney insisted it had been something, he'd been holding his scar, and insisted she had experience with this.

"You have as much experience as Lockhart you-" Remus forcibly cut himself off before he went on his own Lily like tangent which still wouldn't resolve anything.

Harry glared at her as he said he was going to the hospital wing for a headache.

"If only that's what it had been," Harry whispered to himself, as sickly looking as everyone else in fear and worry of what all this could mean for him.

Trelawney began to refuse, saying if he left the confines of her clairvoyant powers he'd lose his stimulated and extraordinary moment.

Lily looked ready to incite murder any second, her wand even appeared and she was glaring at every exit clearly wanting to take Trelawney's head off for actually putting her baby's pain on the powers of that bleeding room!

If he left now he may not get another opportunity to see-

"Then by all means, please leave Harry," Sirius ground out, at least mocking Trelawney felt better than thinking of rats.

Harry snapped he wasn't seeing anything but a headache cure, and left with a quick muttered goodbye to Ron.

Trelawney watched him go with a look saying she'd just been denied a treat.

Lily had to concentrate on each one of her fingers not to perform a strangling motion as she heard that, but at least he was finally leaving.

Harry did not go for Madam Pomfrey, instead his feet doing as Sirius had told,

Harry released a breathy laugh he didn't really feel, but any release would be savored as he picked back up his earlier argument with his godfather. "See Sirius, I do listen to some of your advice."

"Oh sure, when it involves Dumbledore," he said back, flipping his hair over his shoulder dramatically but there was still too much anger in his gray eyes for all the recent rat mentions lately for the joke to really be there.

and go tell Dumbledore. This time had been as vivid as the one in Privet Drive.

"Gathered that bit," James groaned, ruffling up his own hair in unease, the longer they sat and thought about it, the more worry they gained with no new ideas, but at least some of the blood lust was being forcibly pounded away as Harry got farther away from mentions of who all had been in the dream again.

He kept replaying the events over in his mind so as not to forget the details, how Voldemort had accused Wormtail of a blunder,

Nope, there it was! Harry was going to keep thinking on it until he got it all out to Dumbledore as well, so he decided now he may as well start trying to remove his finger nails, it would hurt less. The only coherent thought he had left was his prayer Harry wouldn't pass this along to Sirius again, the reaction he could have still terrified him as much as what was happening to Harry. He didn't need Sirius going off on a murder rampage and getting caught, that had to be his next step from going back to Harry's side from that first dream. Then again, Harry hadn't mentioned the rat in his first later, so there was still some hope he wouldn't this time, it wouldn't do Sirius any more good than it was them.

but Voldemort had received good new that someone was dead, and Wormtail was not going to be fed to the snake, that would be Harry.

Hearing it all a second time didn't make any of that more bearable, or comprehensible, if possible it was actually getting worse with Harry's rendition. Now they didn't have anger to cling onto while listening, now they were just a bubbling, twisting mess of worry of how much pain Harry had to go through to get to the age he was at now.

Harry had walked right past the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office without noticing.

Remus forced out a laugh he didn't really feel, but at this point any actual noise besides Harry forcing himself to read through pain was a kindness.

Only when he traced back did he remember that he didn't know the password.

"Oh yeah," they all muttered, having been so lost in their own thoughts they hadn't recognized this problem either. Now what was Harry going to do?

"I swear if Snape shows up again, I'm getting a shovel and digging my way to his useless arse, the magic keeping me in here be damned," James vowed on the spot.

"You could always try what you were going to last time, go to the staff room and tell an actual useful teacher it's an emergency and need to talk to Dumbledore," Remus offered. "I'm sure they'd give you the password."

Harry gave a listless shrug, he had no clue what he was going to do, but managed a brave smile for all of them at even pretending at a joke and normal conversation again...at least he hoped his dad was joking.

He still tried sherbet lemon.

"T for effort," Sirius scolded, "you already knew that wouldn't work."

"Sirius, don't call my son a troll," Lily instantly snapped.

Sirius rolled his eyes at her.

Instead he started trying others, like Licorice Wand and Fizzing Whizbee,

"Upgraded to an A for this though," Remus smiled, "he knows Dumbledore has a sweet tooth, and going off the previous password is taking a good guess it could be more candy."

"He's most likely not wrong," James forced some tension out of his shoulders to try and smile along. It didn't at all work, but he no longer looked like he was sitting on Hickory anymore. "All the times we were there, it was some form of this."

Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans? Oh wait, he didn't like those.

"Who knows, maybe he's found one not earwax flavored since then," Sirius did his very best at a sincere tone, almost getting there.

When none of that worked, Harry told it was an emergency, but still the gargoyle didn't move.

"I'd be more concerned if it did move," Lily sighed.

Harry kicked it, achieving nothing but an excruciating pain in his big toe.

"Did you at least feel better?" James actually did manage a genuine laugh for that one.

Harry ignored the, in his opinion, stupid question.

Now shouting Chocolate Frog and standing on one leg.

"Is this a new game?" Sirius found honest laughter bubbling in his chest, though he wasn't surprised. If anything could make him smile again, it would be his godson. "Hop on one foot and shout treats until you run out, I like this."

Harry tried to keep being angry with them for laughing like this when he knew in the book he was still upset over what he'd seen, but he recognized as well as them that getting angry wasn't helping a thing, at least smiling gave the feeling that everything would turn out okay.

At last shouting Cockroach Cluster in anger, and the gargoyle sprang aside.

"Cockroach Cluster?" Remus crinkled his nose in disgust. "Really Dumbledore?"

"I've heard they actually taste rather like crispy chocolates," Lily offered with her own look of concern at this, she'd never believed the friend that had tried to convince her of this.

"I can't believe he went with that over the Beans!" Sirius gasped.

"I guess anyone who eats Peppermint Humbug has this kind of strange taste," Harry shrugged.

"At least it wasn't Jelly Slugs," James smirked, "I'm still hoping Dumbledore remembers that one personally."

"I do not want to know," Lily groaned at once. Harry was still too distracted thinking about his dream and what all it could mean for him to be to invested in asking for now.

Harry looked at the opening in surprise, admitting he'd been joking.

"Well don't tell it that!" Sirius said mock frantically.

Still he went inside and traveled up to the headmaster's office, but when he got near he heard voices and hesitated.

"You seem to do that quite a lot for someone who insists he's not a snooper," Remus snorted in surprise.

Harry was finally distracted from his own problem by that, looking up at Remus with the widest most innocent eyes he had.

Remus snorted again and shook his head in disbelief, jabbing a thumb at Sirius and saying, "try looking at me with literal puppy eyes and get back to me on that one."

Sirius cracked up laughing so hard he nearly missed Harry pouting but moving on.

The voice inside was telling Dumbledore he saw no connections, it was Fudge.

"Oh, because he's always a joy to have around," Lily said in contempt, not one of them forgetting how last year he'd happily sanctioned Sirius getting Kissed!

Sirius was too busy suppressing his giggles that Remus had admitted out loud that had worked to garner the hatred he should have felt.

He was still insisting that while Bertha was missing, it didn't mean foul play.

"I swear his head is as empty as the Shrieking Shack," James scowled. "What person actually goes missing this long without not being declared dead? It's been what, almost a year now?"

It was their insight that they knew she was dead, but James's logic was still sound that no one would have argued with him otherwise.

There was just no way it had anything to do with Crouch.

They all sat in puzzlement on that for a second, Lily saying slowly, "yes, alright, I can kind of put together how Dumbledore would think that. Harry did verbatim what Crouch had been rambling on about, and he did mention Bertha, but I still can't see how Crouch knew anything."

"Maybe Dumbledore sees a more clear line connection than just the passing along information Harry got?" Remus tried with no honest belief.

Moody's voice spoke up what he thought the Minister thought happened to Crouch?

Fudge said he had two ideas,

"Oh I'm going to love hearing this," James sneered.

the first was that Crouch had cracked and gone wandering off.

"If that is option one, I am terrified for my sanity what option two is," Lily looked dumbstruck anyone could reach that conclusion in these circumstances. Surely Dumbledore had given Harry's account of the matter, no one could be so stupid and blind as to draw that kind of conclusion from it!

Dumbledore simply answered he wandered extremely quickly then.

"Still got to love how Dumbledore kindly points out how dumb the people around him are," Sirius muttered to himself.

Fudge said he'd reserve judgement on the second idea until he saw the place for himself.

"What does that even mean?" Remus asked in surprise. "It was on the edge of the Forest, why do you need to be there to declare anything of it."

"I don't see why we're hearing his opinion on it at all," James's scowl kept deepening the longer this guy was around, "since I hold its weight on the same level as dragon dung."

Confirming this had happened right around the Beauxbatons carriage? Reminding Dumbledore of what she was.

"He did not!" Harry heard everyone bark in outrage. The way his lip curled in protest of having said that however left no one in doubts. No one currently liked Maxime for what she'd done to Hagrid, in all honesty they still blamed her for it even being out, but no one was accusing her of pulling this simply because she was like Hagrid! And the worst part was, no one had any doubts if Fudge was saying this about her, he could be thinking about Hagrid as well!

Dumbledore quietly returned he found her an able headmistress, and an excellent dancer.

"Thank you for that useful information," Remus muttered sullenly, wishing Dumbledore would take that a little more offensively like they had.

Fudge was getting angry now, saying Dumbledore may be acting a little blind for his trust in Hagrid. They didn't all turn out harmless, and Hagrid didn't even sound that with all his monsters.

"That's it, where's the nearest tiny box, I'm cramming his arse in it," Sirius followed that up with a few more swears just as the timer went off from the kitchen.

Lily was saved from having to listen to the rest no matter how much she agreed by going to let dinner cool, by the time she came back all of the boys were still in a temper like her for the slur of a comment but at least willing to let Harry finish as he fingered the last page.

Dumbledore forcefully replied he did not suspect either of them, and in fact flipped back on Fudge perhaps he was the one being blinded by prejudice.

"Least Dumbledore's saying that much," Remus muttered as he poked at a hole in his sleeve, his mind was starting to get a bit stung around the edges his old headmaster wasn't being a bit more vocally against this.

Moody suggested they wrap this up, and while Fudge agreed he wanted a look around the grounds, Moody instead pointed out that Potter must want a word because he was outside the door.

"Got to love Moody must have known he was there the whole time and waited this long to say something," James said.

"Chapter's over," Harry sighed as he gave the book an unfriendly toss onto the table and being the first to exit the room.

HPHPHPHP

Update on Cursed Child: If my review wasn't enough for you guys, I found a guy who emulates everything I ever could think to say. Mine is really puny small in comparison, and I can't disagree with a single thing he says. I left a lot out of mine, but he covers the whole thing! It's funny, go watch!

The Script for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - The Dom Reviews

*nahte123456 pointed this out, and yeah, it's a really good point.

**If anybody remembers my rant from the second chapter about how much it bothered me they never explained these third person dreams Harry has, I thank you all for all the suggestions you gave, but I'm still not sold on why it happens. Just because Voldemort doesn't have his normal body shouldn't disrupt the horcrux connection that allows Harry to see inside Voldemort's mind of the body he's in, not from the window's perspective. This isn't from Nagini ...it's just information insert. I do acknowledge that it could well be Harry seeing through Voldemort and we're just getting the outside perspective, JK has done this in the past by switching between characters like in Harry's first Quidditch match, and that's basically the only running thing I can go with, but it still annoys me to no end it's never acknowledged in that way, it's just there.

#The Life That Never Lived #Harry Potter #fanfiction #GoF #reading the books #Marauders #Wolfstar #jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #sirius black #Peter Pettigrew #Lily Evans #alice smith #frank longbottom #Regulus Black

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curious-menace · 4 years

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Arkham!Riddler SFW Alphabet

When I started this one I figured it would be easier since I can riddle as bi and ace and this is all non-sexual but my god was it difficult. It's hard to separate what i'd like from a partner like riddler from what this version of riddler would actually be like. I've done my best but if you have anything you'd like to add, feel free to hmu!

LONG POST UNDER THE CUT

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Edward can be affectionate in quite a superficial way. He’s not above using someone's affections for him to get what he wants out of them and he certainly isn't above feigning affection for the same reason. Although unless you were head over heels for him, his faux sincerity would be pretty obvious.

However with a partner he actually likes i can imagine he’d be very affectionate with his actions more than his words. Riddler loves to talk but expressing actual love can be difficult for him, whether it’s romantic or platonic, saying how he feels about you is one of the few things that doesn't come easy. I can see him spending a lot of money on you as a gesture of affection; fancy food , clothes, first editions of your favorite books or vintage versions of whatever you collect. He’d quite happily pay for your education/college and any and all books you might want.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Being a “best friend” would probably be at your insistence and not his. He’s likely left any childhood friends behind (assuming he had any to begin with) and I think as an adult, Edward would have trouble making friends. Like most things, Edward treats friendship as just another tool in the bag, he can count the people he actually gives a shit about on 1 hand.

If you were lucky (or unlucky depending on your view) to be considered one of those friends, expect lots of phone calls about bailing him out, riddles turning up in weird places ( like in the pocket of a coat you haven't worn in a while) and him helping you out with your cerebral challenges( like your quarterly tax return, no eddie i can't just NOT do it will you put down the rubix cube and help me)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He’ll never admit it, not even under pain of death, but Edward likes to be held. Now there's a few caveats to this; his rules and on his terms etc. He likes to lie between your legs with his head on your chest, either facing you for a hug while he naps or away from you, using you like a pillow while he reads or tinkers with something. He likes having his hair played with and his back gently stroked until he falls asleep.

He keeps up the facade of being totally touch adversed for good reason, the other rouges just do not respect personal space, even ones like killer croc and clayface. For the sake of his suits, he keeps this up even in private. But if you were someone special to him, you might convince him to toss his arm around your shoulder or waist.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

When he’s doing well mentally, he’s pretty good at taking care of himself. Or at least, looking like he takes good care of himself. He can cook and clean a little but he has the cash to pay other people to do the more menial or time consuming stuff for him. Not that he’s above it, he just prefers to spend his time on other things and is happy to compensate people to save him from doing it. These days he's more focused on other things to be bothered with domestic chores, his place is very messy.

Settling down is an alien concept to him, not one he’s eager to explore. Expect him to turn his nose up at the prospect of marriage but a platonic long term partner, someone for company, someone to act as a sounding board for ideas or even just someone to (gently but firmly) kick his ass into looking after himself would be pretty ideal.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d probably be thinking long and hard about it beforehand. Like weeks if not months in advance. He’d want to give you the perfect breakup and, depending on what happened, try his best to part as friends. He doesn't deal well with sudden changes to his routine, particularly with no plans ahead. On the other hand he might just pussy out and ghost you. He’s fickle like that.

If it was your doing, well. Edward takes these sorts of things as a challenge. He might even assume you were joking the first time around. After he got the message, I sense he’d probably be quite clingy and upset. It’s taken a lot for him to get so far with you and he wouldn't let it go without a fight. He might try to change or at the very least , be better at hiding whatever it was that you want to break it off.

Failing that expect a lot of texts from blocked numbers almost but not quite begging or apologizing and asking for more chances.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Like I said above, marriage isn't for him. I doubt he'd be compatible with a religious person given his childhood and outspoken atheism. He MIGHT if pressed, give you a question mark themed ring or token as a reminder that you were his. No papers, no ceremony, just something small. If you proposed expect him to be flustered and , if you can believe it, at a loss for words. He might go radio silent on you for a few days before giving you an answer but i honestly couldn't tell you what it might be. He does enjoy the thought of someone referring to him as “my husband” thought, so maybe persistent begging i'll get you somewhere.

Some sort of Commitment appeals to him from a practical point; having someone to rely on, to fall back on and to care and be cared for by. It's not a normal relationship by any stretch of the imagination but it’ll be special all the same.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Edward isn't an imposing man. He might be tall but he’s all sinus and no mass. He has gentle hands but can be careless when he’s in a mood ( with objects, never with you). He's broken a lot of plates, computer monitors and mechanical pencils over the years. He lacks a lot of social grace to treat things with the necessary amount of sensitivity sometimes, but he has the sense to at least TRY and be emotionally gentle. Situations of abuse or self worth issues, things he has personal experience dealing with are things he can easily empathise with .

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Short story, yes but only coming from a trusted partner. Long story is that he has a hard time not flinching when someone hugs him by surprise. You should ask before you do it.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Edward is the kind of person to fall head over heels very quickly. He might say I love you before it's socially appropriate, it honestly might make you a little uncomfortable. But once that initial infatuation dies he's a lot more guarded with his feelings. He’d say i love you in a superficial way quickly but a genuine i love you with real emotion would take a lot of time and thought from him before he actually committed to it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

If you look up jealousy in the dictionary, you'd see Edward's picture. Obviously he is a deeply insecure man, he’s terrified you’ll start to think of him the way he thinks of himself and seek out someone better. You need to nip any signs of jealousy in your relationship in the bud early on. Otherwise Edward will become controlling, manipulative and possessive to the point of alienating you from other people, simply for the sake of having you to himself. You need to set healthy boundaries while also doing your best to accommodate his need to be validated and his need for reassurance that you do in fact want to be with him. He gets snappy when he’s jealous, with you and other people. He has temper tantrums like a child if you don't agree with him. Like for example if he thinks someone was flirting with you and you tell him they were just being friendly.

All that said, I genuinely don't think he does it for the sake of being a controlling partner. He is just so very afraid that someone he actually gives a shit about will leave him like everyone else in his life.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

I should point out that he doesn't kiss often. But when he does,He’s all over the damn place. What he lacks in experience he makes up for in enthusiasm. He is a very sloppy kisser when he gets into it but generally his kisses are very short and chaste. Like i said, he doesn't really know what he's doing so he's all over the place in terms of location. I think smooches on the cheek because it's easy access, for him and you. He likes body worship, so if you're kissing him, anywhere will do as long as you're praising that part while you do it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Edward does not like children but he’s good pretending for the sake of his image. Childrens naturally inquisitive nature coupled with his bright and colourful appearance makes for some entertaining moments but in the long run I can see him worrying too much: about screwing the kid up, about being perceived like his father, about the child not meeting his expectations etc.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He's more of a night owl tbh. If you're living with him he might wander into the kitchen while you're getting breakfast , wondering why you're up so late. You'd have to tell him he’s accidentally pulled another all nighter. He might have coffee with you and talk about what he was working on, maybe ask if he could have some breakfast with you. But by the time it's cooked he’ll have passed out on the sofa.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Edward prefers to work and operate at night so expect him to be in a flurry of activity, building things, calling people and working at his computer. He likes to have company, even if you aren't doing much talking. It would be nice for him to just spend time with you while you both work on your respective projects. Sometimes he gets his shit together and lives during the day like most people ( read as, when he’s just been to prison and has an actual schedule for once) he would like to unwind with you by watching game shows or playing video games.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Edward has a bad habit of gloating about his accomplishments but in a way that is so obviously false it unintentionally tells more about him than he really wanted to. Like in Arkham knight, he gloats about “not having any friends at all” in reference to his riddler bots when Catwoman teases him. He meant that as a snipe at catwoman but the fact he’s so open about his lack of friends, to most people anway, is incredibly sad.

He’s a well known villain, if you didn't know most of his backstory before dating him it would be hard to miss once you were together. He’s unlikely to tell you it himself, having to repeat it time and time again in therapy has him perpetually bored of the subject .

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He gets upset quite easily, he has very limited patience . He’s used to other people's cuts and jibes so he mostly lets that roll off his back with only a little annoyance. But for stupid people, and people outright insulting him, dismissing him or for acting like batman he is liable to start seeing red very quickly . In your relationship I would say he is easily irritated by a lot of things, generally a bit grumpy if things don't go his way but rarely as angry as we see him in the climax of Arkham knight. He doesn't yell or shout at you but he will seethe and let his anger fester for days at a time. He can be very mean when he’s angry.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You would think for someone with a photographic memory, he would be better at remembering things about you. It's not to say he DOESN'T remember, only that he requires prompting to do so. Yes, he will remember everything about you but he puts it in the back of his head so he can focus on other things. Don't be surprised if he lets important dates slip by or does things at the last minute because something reminded him of it.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

It's probably something innocuous that you wouldn't think of, or even realise he was there for. Maybe he remembers meeting you in a coffee shop months or years before you met and started dating. He remembers because you held the door for him or gave him a genuine smile. You were something colourful in his gray day, something hard to forget. I doubt he tried to build a relationship out of that one moment but when he met you again he would remember that and decide that it was fate or something.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Edward is protective in a strange way. He’s most powerful in situations where he controls everything , which isn't usually possible in real life as he's not a particularly strong man. He has more power in the digital world so that's where he feels most comfortable looking out for you. He might watch you on security cameras to make sure you get home safe, send you texts to check in or hide your profile from the police. You can be online together and in the public eye ( for him to brag about you to his online followers of course). To tie back in with his jealousy, he would be pretty protective initially but if you told him to back off, he’d be careful to do it more secretly.

Edward needs to be protected in a lot of ways, mostly from himself. He’s not good at looking after himself, either physically, mentally or socially. His big mouth gets him into a lot of bother so he might need you to act as a social filter. He’s had several large breakdowns in the last few years and with arkham closed for good, he has no support besides you. He needs to be grounded and kept in the present lest he get wrapped up in his thoughts.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Honestly? He doesn't really try. He's very lucky in that he can pull something out of his ass last minute and it would still have a similar effect to if he’d spent the whole month planning. Someday it's going to blow up in his face big time but he doesn't seem to care.

Same goes for everyday tasks. He's usually so focused on his own stuff that he doesn't realise other things need done. He's a master of doing things at the last second and still making it look like he put in effort.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a bad habit of underestimating people, even you. He might be inclined to patronise you when you try to do things for him but just showing him that you are a capable human being is usually enough to shut him up. He's very egocentric, narcissistic and conceited, but given everything he's been through, it's not really his fault he's like this. What is his doing is his refusal to work on his faults or try to grow as a person. Perhaps with the right encouragement you could help him but don't hold your breath.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Normally yes, Edward is narcissistic and very concerned with his looks but recently, with his mental health declining, he's forgotten to take care of himself. I imagine when/if he snaps out of this funk he’ll be mortified by how he’s let himself go. He’s more concerned with how he looks socially, how he might be perceived and his reputation than what he physically looks like.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Edward is and always has been convinced he was meant to be alone. He’s somewhat made his peace with that . there would always be a hole in his heart that he really thought nothing could ever fill. But meeting you? Well that changes things. Edward will never be a complete, well rounded person but having someone to kiss his wounds and pour their love into the cracks in his being is infinitely better than being alone.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I mentioned in some of my mini headcanons for him that he used to do gymnastics as a kid. It wasn't so much that he wanted to or even enjoyed it all that much, in his highschool you just had to pick a sport and it was one of the only things that wasnt team related and had the lowest chance of being hit in the head with a ball, bat or racket. He was pretty good at it, even if he didnt like it that much , and probably could have taken home some bronze or silver awards in his state if his parents had encouraged him. Nowadays he can barely do a pullup but he's still got most of the flexibility, even if repeated breaks at the hands of batman have left him a little sore while he does it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Edward doesn't like people appearing to be smarter than him. but his ego usually protects him from acknowledging that fact. he doesn't like bullies, despite being one himself . but his most hated trait in people is alcohol use/ dependency. If he knew you were an alcoholic he likely never would have started dating you but even the odd drink will make him turn his nose up. of course, hes a hypocrite , when hes feeling really sorry for himself he will definitely drink his sorrows away in whatever hole in the ground gotham rogues frequent. the self loathing is as strong as his hangover the next morning. he knows hes like his father, in more ways than one and it makes him sick. any mention of alcohol is likely to bring up these feelings

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Edward is a chronic insomniac but there is one thing that is guaranteed to send him right to the land of nod and that is having his hair played with and his back stroked. I don't know if it was one of the few kind touches he ever received as a child or if his parents did it when he was a baby but it's one of the few things that makes him feel truly safe and cared for. Riddler has spent the majority of his life alone, so finding a partner he trusts enough to allow them not only into his space but also his bed would be a difficult thing. If that's you, however, expect him to be badgering you every night to help him get to sleep.

that took a lot longer than i thought it would! arkham riddler is obviously my favorite so i was trying to write a lot for him but i hope i havent been rambling

if you want to talk more about any of the riddlers, hmu!

#riddler headcanons #The Riddler #Riddler #arkham riddler #sfw alphabet #edward nygma #edward nigma #batman arkham knight #arkham knight riddler #arkham knight #headcanons #my headcanons #my stuff #my art

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thatwildnya · 4 years

Text

haha riddle v-card go poof

this is my first smut

please give feedback thanks-

quick explanations:

Loki is one of my oc’s, they have the ability to change their gender on whim which is why they/them pronouns are usually used. They’re half snake but can only transform their lower half.

Their “boys” and “girls” are a herd made of many variations of horses and their mythical variations.

TW: naughty adult time themes, it’s hinted at rape has occurred in the past but otherwise nothing that’s not consented to happens

“So. Who do you want to top? I’m fine either way.”

The book in Riddle’s hands landed on his face with a tiny thud, earning an amused snort from the body underneath, “P-pardon?”

“What, did you really think I wouldn’t notice?~” Loki singsonged, lifting their head to bump it on the back of his own “I’m much more experienced in this field compared to most from my homeland, I know all the hints. Plus I overheard the conversation about ways to help relieve stress. And the return of bedtime fidgeting? It was a dead giveaway~” they laughed at his muffled grumble to shut up.

The redhead didn’t answer immediately, opting to keep his face hidden in the book. Loki didn’t press for an answer awaiting his response patiently. They reached back to cup his cheek after a few minutes. Riddle leaned into their hand on contact from habit. He smiled softly feeling their thumb poke his cheek. He retaliated the playful gesture with a gentle pinch on the arm, an unspoken exchange said through their actions. “There’s no rush. Take your time.” “Thank you.”

“I-is it alright if we… do that thing couples do...” he wanted to bang his head against a table. Superb job Riddle. Excellent work. Speech 100. Just thinking about it was enough to make his cheek flush redder than the roses in the dorm’s garden. Now having to say it outloud? To the target person of doing said activity with? Anyone would think he was sick if they saw his face. And Loki’s response did not help to calm his speeding heart.

“What ‘couple thing’ are you referring to? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.” “y’know that... intimate thing they do…” “bunny there are multiple things befitting that category.” “You know which one I’m talking about!” “do I?” “you-!” “Riddle.” his mouth clamped shut. His head turned just enough to look at their face. Loki’s chin rested on their forearms, eyes closed, no signs of continuing evident. This… discussion wasn’t over he knew. Certain changes (big or small) in one’s tone can send various different messages, removing the need to say it outright.

A minute later an eye opened to meet his gaze, “I’ll be done soon, just gotta check in with the boys and let the girls loose. It’d be a real mood killer to get a distress call from my boys for more backup, wouldn’t you agree?” flashing him a lazy smirk, their eye closed again, “then I’m all yours~”

While waiting he attempted to calm his speeding heart by counting. Unfortunately this had the opposite effect. With each number meant Loki was getting closer to finishing. Then their talk would resume. Riddle was certain Loki could feel his heart beating, they were laying back to back. Should he roll off? Would it be weird if he did so suddenly? It’s not like either were uncomfortable. When did it get so hot, are only his hands getting sweaty? What about his back? Being sweaty isn’t the most pleasant feeling he should move after all-

“-ddle, hello?” The perfect was brought out of his thoughts “time to return from lala land~”. In a single movement Loki flipped their positions so they faced each other. Riddle’s arms moved to rest around their shoulders from habit, Loki’s own wrapping around his backside as he straddled their lap.

At first nothing was said, only gazing at the other. It was peaceful, soothing. No sounds of shouting, items being knocked to the floor, music blasting from the next room, nothing. Just silence. Neither wouldn’t mind being stuck like this forever, leaving all worries and duties behind to be together forever. A wonderful dream, it was. Alas, every dream comes to an end when it was time to rejoin reality once again.

“I want to make sure you are 100% confident you are ready to lose your virginity,” the one to wake them was Loki, “when I lost mine I didn’t have a say. I didn’t have the option of refusal.” their voice cracked at the last few words. Riddle rested his head on his love’s shoulder, giving their cheek a kiss as his arms hugged them tighter. It took a few moments for Loki’s voice to be found again. Taking a deep breath, they continued.

“Until you can look me in the eyes and tell me you are ready to and want to have sex with me I refuse to partake in any sexual activities with you.”

Riddle wanted to slap himself.

Loki trusts him enough to share a part of their past (something that no one should have to experience) and other secrets very few or none knew. That was how much faith they had in him, how much they loved him. And here he was, being a horny teenager thinking only of himself.

“But it’s okay,” he reminded himself, “Loki has already forgiven me. I made a mistake and they’re aware I’m taking responsibility.”

Gathering up all the courage within him, he straightened up locking eyes with them. In the most confident voice he could muster, Riddle gave his answer.

“Please take care of me.”

It felt like an eternity passed waiting for a response, anxiety increasing with every second ticking by.

“Safe word?” he exhaled deeply letting the breath he’d been holding out, falling forward and burying his face into the crook of Loki’s neck.

***~~~***

Riddle’s body stiffened as Loki began kissing his neck, starting at his collarbone continuing up to his lower jaw. He let out a squeak when Loki nipped his ear. A violent shiver wrecked through him as a hand slowly creased his belly upward. A second squeak escaped him when the hand reached his chest, thumb rubbing circles around a nippel.

Why is it getting warmer? When did the temperature start rising? These hands are familiar but the touches are foreign. Should he return the touches? How should he do that? What should he do? What are the rules he should be following?

“Boo, that’s not very nice bunny~ Your attention should be on me~” Loki suddenly pressed their fingers into his side causing Riddle to let out a third squeak. “H-hey!” he curled inward and tried to wiggle away, “q-qu-quit it-!” his struggles were in vain, the legs and arms trapping him were too strong. All he could do was flail trying to escape the fingers pressing into his sides, laughing.

The red bunny was able to escape the snake's hold with all his wiggling and tried to hop away. However the snake had plenty more agility and strength compared to the smaller. The bunny let out a squeal when the snake had him coiled in their grip again.

“Ah ah ah~” the reptile tutted, a devilish smirk gracing their lips “you’re not getting away that easily~”

The snake ruthlessly assaulted the bunny, laughing with its prey. Soon tears brimmed the prey’s eyes and he struggled to breathe, begging for mercy. The hunter chortled but decided to grant his wish. While the bunny wheezed and caught his breath the snake was pulling him close.

“I love you, Riddle.” his breath caught in his throat and Loki chuckled at the look upon his face, “you heard me. I love you. I love you, Riddle Rosehearts.”

“I love your grey eyes, red hair, and squishable cheeks. The way your eye color softens with your gaze and becomes fiery when you get competitive. I love the difference in our height, you fit perfectly in my arms. Having you snug within my embrace fills me with unending happiness. I love your voice, your singing soothes my mind after long days of work. When I hear you laugh my lips never fail to curl. I love your sleepy voice when you begin to drift off, your morning voice when you’ve just woken up, your strict yet gentle scolding voice, your cute cooing voice, all of them.” they just kept going on and on, listing thing after thing they loved about him, gaze filled with love.

Riddle could feel his face flushing with every word spilt from their lips. He attempted to hide his face in his hands. Loki, however, wasn’t having any of that. They gently pried them off with their own, their smile and gaze so soft and genuine he couldn’t -didn’t want to- look elsewhere. He was so fixated he took no notice of the other slowly maneuvering their body to hover above his own.

Cupping his cheek, they ran their thumb across his lips with their final statement, “I am deepy, utterly in love with the man known as Riddle Rosehearts. I wish to spend the rest of my life,” they leaned down to rest their forehead on his “and every life after that with him. His soul is the one and only soul I wish for mine to meet over and over again and again for all eternity.” lips centimeters away from touching, Loki whispered one last thing before closing the distance.

So much. Never before had Riddle felt so loved, appreciated, wanted. It was almost overwhelming, all the emotions swirling within. He wanted to cry, laugh, and scream. More. He wanted more.

He felt his partners smile widen when he chased their lips, pulling them back together with a tug on their shirt. This wasn’t enough, he wants more. He needs more. And he’s getting just that.

“Tongue.” was the demand when they parted for air. “Hm?” Loki blinked innocently “what was that, bunny?~ Did you say something?~”

His breath was coming out in short pants, hands tightly gripping their shirt. “Tongue.” he repeated, mouth hanging ajar slightly as an invitation, “I want kisses with tongue.”

Loki was taken back, the little bunny asking for a kiss so bluntly? A french one at that? “Shit,” they cursed, fulfilling the smallers demand “can’t say no when he looks at me like that- {*#*#*}.” Loki cursed in their native language hearing his soft moan. Adorable yet lewd. Meanwhile the only thought cycling through the others head was a ‘more’.

“T-tight,” he whined between kisses, “p-pants, they’re too tight.” Loki grinded their body against his pelvis with a smirk. “Hm?” they teased, smirk widening at his wanton mewls “your pants are too tight?” he nodded vigorously, whimpering “Well, that simply won’t do! Here, let me help you with that~” he hissed once his hardened cock was freed, slick with precum.

Loki leaned down to kiss his face, lower body shifting into a snake tail, “How do you want to do this, bunny? You better tell me quick,” they added, using their tail to open a drawer of the nightstand “I won’t need as much prep as you and I might lose it at this rate.” Riddle barely registered their words with how clouded his head was becoming from pleasure. “I-I want you in,” he gazed up, panting and half ladened eyes swirling with lust “I want to be taken by Loki. Please take me Loki, please please.” Loki groaned, “this kid will be the death of me.” “did you remember condoms and lube?” Riddle’s stomach dropped.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” Loki snickered. “Sh-shut up!” his already flushed face turned a darker shade of red. “Did bunny get so excited he overlooked some things?” they poked his cheek. With a pouty “humph!” Riddle flipped onto his front side, hiding his face in the pillows. “Aw, don’t be like that bunny~” Loki cooed, “I’m just teasing~ I’ve got lube, but no condoms.”

“What’s that?” Loki’s smile softened into one that was more reassuring. Pouring the clear contents inside the glass vail in their hand they answered, “it’s a type of lube made specially for virgins and the inexperienced. In case you start getting scared or nervous it will cause your body to send stronger distressed signals so the pleasure doesn’t completely hijack your mind.” Riddle shivered when Loki started massaging his lower back with the liquid, “it also acts as a stimulant making you wetter quicker and heightens your sense of touch. In other words,” he shivered at Loki’s hot whisper next to his ear, “you’re gonna experience some top notch pleasure soon~”

***~~~***

Riddle felt like he’d come any second now. His cock hasn’t been touched yet everything felt so good. If he’s on cloud nine right now, where would he be once he and Loki were connected? He shuddered from anticipation at the thought.

Meanwhile Loki kept a close eye on their partner, looking for any signs of discomfort or anxiety. “Riddle, bunny,” tracing a finger down his side Loki gently grasped his hip “lift your hips a bit.” he didn’t need to be told twice.

“Remember the safe word?” Loki bent their body over him, their chin resting on his shoulder. Using their tail they poured more lube in their hand. Reaching back, Loki rested a finger on Riddle’s taint and gently pressed against it.

“Patience Bunny,” they softly warned, pulling away when he tried to push back “I don’t want to hurt you.” he whimpered but did his best to keep still. His body tensed when their finger finally entered however.

“You need to relax, Bunny,” “easier said than done.” they chuckled lightly at his words but didn’t respond to them. Using their free hand they took a hold of his chin, guiding their mouths together. Their slit tongue slipped in his mouth as a distraction. It wasn’t a surprise how well this worked, given they were very skilled at french.

***~~~***

“This should be enough…” they thought, fingers pulling out, “that should do it, are you rea-” “Lokiii,” Riddle began whining impatiently, “why’d you stooop? Don’t stop, it feels so sooooo good.” they blinked.

“C’mooooooon, hurry up!” the whining continued, “it doesn’t feel good. I don’t like this feeling of emptiNESS!” Loki flipped him onto his back. “Eager, eager, are we now?~” they slowly traced a finger up his cock which was practically crying with precum, “I mustn’t disappoint then~” Lifting his hips, Loki’s tail slid under to wrap around his belly once.

Riddle’s eyes widened seeing their cock for the first time that night. He’d seen it before (they’ve been living together for months after all) but it was a LOT bigger now. Loki smirked following his gaze, “enjoying the view?” “will it fit?” their lips softened, leaning forward to give his forehead a kiss “yes but if it’s too much we can stop. There’s a safe word for a reason, remember?” he couldn’t help but gulp.

Lining them up, Loki waited for the okay. Riddle let out a loud gasp as they entered, hands clumsily searching for a grip. Loki adjusted their position so he could hug them.

A few times he had to ask them to pause so his body got used to the stretch. His breath was coming out in short pants by the time Loki bottomed out. He felt so full, almost to the point it was painful.

“Riddle? Riddle, bunny, are you doing okay?” Loki moved to pull back but went still at the grip on their shoulders tightening, “Don’t m-move…”

A handful of minutes ticked by of them staying like that, Loki murmuring sweet nothings and soothing words to help Riddle relax his body and mind. They made small talk about their day, assignments due once the break was over, anything.

He felt small. Yes, he wasn’t the tallest guy around but that wasn’t it. It was more of an emotional feeling than physical. None of that mattered though. He liked this sensation of tenderness. It was like he was being gently cocooned in silks spun specifically for him to make a perfect nest of safety and warmth.

Eventually, muscles relaxed and breathing steadied.

“Y-you can move…”

“Are you sure?” “Mhm.”

“Alright, let me know if you want to stop.” “M’kay…”

Loki adjusted so they could see Riddle’s face better. They pulled out halfway before sliding back in, setting a slow and steady rhythm. They kept their eyes trained on his face, searching for any hints of discomfort or pain. Riddle closed his own as he sank into a bliss of pleasure, moaning softly. That is, until a certain spot was tapped.

Soon Riddle was crying from pleasure, nails digging into Loki’s shoulders making the other groan. “There” “faster” “Loki” ran from Riddle’s mouth like a faucet, spurring Loki on to increase their speed. It didn’t take long for him to see stars as he reached his climax.

Back arching perfectly, Riddle let out a long, loud moan. Falling back into the sheets panting heavily, he waited for his vision to clear. “You doing fine bunny?” Loki kissed the corner of his eye, tongue slipping out to lick off tears spilt from pleasure. “Y-yeah,” realizing they were still hard he asked “aren’t you gonna finish?” they smiled and gave him another kiss. “I’ll take care of myself, do you want anything? Perhaps a bath? Maybe tea?” he wrapped his legs around Loki when they tried to pull out, “more.”

Loki blinked, “eh?” “more,” he repeated, “I want more of you.”

Capturing their lips with his own, Riddle nibbled at their bottom lip kissing them. A second later he was, once again, flipped that night. Hoisting up his hips, Loki draped their body over his. “Normally I’d settle for teasing but I’ll be merciful this time.” they purred slamming back in.

***~~~***

Riddle stared at the ceiling, eyes wide and speechless.

“Someone seems to have enjoyed themselves.” he gripped the covers, eyes still on the ceiling, answering “it was- you just- it felt- everything-” he was at a loss for words.

Loki laughed, pulling him closer while leaning on their arm, “good to know I still got it. I’d feel terrible if I couldn’t satisfy my mate-” “again.” it wasn’t often Loki got taken by surprise, but this was one of those times. “... eh?”

Ignoring the dull ache in his lower body, Riddle threw off the covers and straddled Loki. “I wanna go another round.” Loki stared up at him with genuine shock. Once recovered they cleared their throat, “um, no.” They pulled Riddle down, tail wrapped around him while he whined for demanded an explanation.

“Because your body is already fragile and I don’t want to push it.” caging him in their arms, they ran their fingers through his hair, “sorry bunny, but you’ll have to wait awhile before I truly take you to town.” they pulled at his pouty face “don’t give me that look, you know you can’t take anymore right now.” Riddle let out a humph when they let go.

“Aw, don’t be like that bunny,” Loki started covering his face with sloppy kisses, “that face makes me want to tease you til you’re so red a tomato couldn’t compare~” he half-heartedly pushed their face away, still pouting.

“Get some rest,” Loki pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. “Your body needs it,” they said, breaking the kiss, “and I have some things that need to be checked on anyway.” Loki reached over to pull the covers back up.

“What about you?” “I’ll join you soon,” they booped his nose, “until then make yourself comfortable.” with a swish of their finger, the light went out.

***~~~***

The following morning, a snake was awoken by a bunny sitting atop its belly, begging for it’s carrot. It was a good thing the break had only just started.

#twst #twst riddle #twst naughty time #oh ho?~#twst oc loki #first time how'd i do?#very proud honestly #twst smut #warning: naughty adult time themes

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cas-backwards-tie · 4 years

Text

Breakup Headcanons

Warnings: General Angst, Cursing, Slurs, Mentions of Cheating, Ended Engagement.

A/N: @oh-adam this is for you! I know you just wanted a drabble for my choice, and... well it’s hard to choose so I decided to do headcanons for a bunch! :) I hope you enjoy! I put everyone underneath the cut since it’d get too long otherwise and no one would want to reblog lmao. Also here’s to me trying to write for Flip and Adam for the first time! also I think credit to @drivermisfit for using one of your gifs! I saw the watermark, so thank you <3

Kylo Ren:

“It’s for your safety!” Kylo explains again. Somehow he’s gotten the idea into his mind that by sending you to the outer-rim, somewhere you’re less likely to be found, that you’ll be safe from Snoke and the First Order.

“I don’t care!”

“Well I do, and what I say goes. I am the Commander. Get in! Don’t make me force you,” he threatens, his breathing starting to get heavier as his anger level rises, his fear getting more serious as the longer your relationship had gone on, the more and more he’d gotten feelings for you. “I love you,” he says your name, gloved hand reaching out to caress your face, “but I have to leave you. It isn’t safe anymore and I don’t know when it will be. My life is already at risk and I can’t risk yours too. I was foolish enough to think they wouldn’t catch on for this long.” Now that you’ve obeyed him and entered the starship, he closes the walkway and takes off his helmet. Placing it underneath his arm he guides you toward the cockpit, being gentle with you for a last time.

You don’t say anything as you can’t find the words to. The cast on your arm and the bandage on your head are already warning enough. He straps you into the seat and has already set the ship up with coordinates before you’d both even come down to the hangar.

“Remember-” you cut him off and finish his sentence, “-when you arrive destroy the data so they can’t track me. Yes, yes, I already know, Kylo! It’ll be fine!” You reassure him. Sighing, you look at his face, never wanting to stop look, fear riddled in your body as you worry for what will happen to him when you leave.

“Okay... well... I love you. I always will, my star... please be safe,” he whispers, suddenly tearing up as he presses a kiss to your forehead, running his hand over your hair before pulling away. You hadn’t anticipated how painful the sounds of his departing footsteps would be, but teardrops run down your face as you silent let yourself sob, shoulders wracking as he leaves the ship, it already counting down and preparing to take off, leaving and tearing you away from the love of your life.

Charlie Barber:

You knew it was coming when he’d started working late everyday. Charlie would be more than a few minutes late to your dates with really lame excuses and you started communicating less and less. Maybe it’s me, you thought, but ultimately forbid yourself from dwelling and going any further down that train of thought since you haven’t done anything wrong! “I’ve just been really busy with work!” Charlie argues, “Transitioning from theatre to film is not what it’s cracked up to be! Do you even know how many calls I’ve had to make? How many meetings I’ve had to take or how many of my days I’ve had to sacrifice seeing Henry?” A scoff comes from his mouth as he rolls his eyes, holding back tears as his cheeks start to turn a little red. “I can’t do this anymore,” the way he says your name is heart-breaking, the final acknowledgment that it’s not working and he doesn’t want to continue trying making your heart ache with pain.

“So that’s it, huh? After everything?” You ask, fed up with his lies and excuses, the defensiveness.

“For fuck’s sake! Yes! I’m done. I can’t do this right now. I can’t handle this. I’m done.” Gesticulating with his hands in the air, Charlie finally lets himself take a deep breath as the two of you just stare at each other from opposite sides of the room solemnly. “There’s just too much going on right now,” he whispers, and that’s all it takes for you to turn around and walk out the door.

Clyde Logan:

“You what?” Everything else around you fades except for him, the only things running through your mind and ringing through your ears repeatedly are the words he’d just said. Your heart clenches, pain making you clutch at it as your cheeks sting with the threat of tears willing to surface.

“I said I went through with it. I enlisted. We’ve been talkin’ bout it an now that Ma and Pa are gone... Jimmy says this is the best bet for college an I agree. I’m leavin’ tomorrow mornin’. Darlin, please don’t cry. This is the last thing I want right now, but I... I have to do this... and while I’m gone I don’t want you waiting’ around for someone who might never come back.” Clyde takes a step forward, hands reaching up to wipe away your tears, but you turn away from him.

“I- I don’t want you to leave!”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice soft, sweet like honey, and calm like the lake in the morning, “but I promise ya that I wasn’t no good for ya anyhow. There’s gotta be a man that deserves you ten times more than me and can give you the life you actually deserve.” His hand rubs your back while the other one brushes your hair behind your ear. Before you can speak he calls your name, his beautiful brown eyes looking down into yours. “I just came to say goodbye... but,” he shakes his head, “god dammit if I can’t help myself... can I have one last kiss goodbye?”

Nodding in response, too choked up to speak, you crane your neck to place your lips against his. The previous smile that’d engrossed your lips slowly melts and turns into a smile as Clyde’s sweetness never fails to brighten you up. One of his hands weaves into your hair while the other snakes itself around your waist. Your lips dance against one another, his soft plump lips pressing harder than usual against yours while both of your noses brush against each other. Curse him and his cute big nose!

It all feels like it happens too fast. While the kiss seemed to last forever, he’s suddenly out of your arms and on the other side of the parking lot and into his truck, then gone... almost like it never even happened.... like you never even knew him.

Adam Sackler:

“Get out of here!” He screams, head and hair shaking with fury, “Fuck!” Of course, though, you don’t move. “I don’t want to hear you shit! I already fucking told you what happened! I can’t take it back!” Pounding his closed fists against his head angrily he beats himself up. See, Adam had told you that two days ago on Saturday night he’d went to a mutual friend’s house for comfort after the both of you had gotten in a fight. Now you couldn’t even remember what started the fight but it doesn’t even matter. Next, the friend convinced him to go to a party, where Adam ended up seeing Jessa... one thing lead to another and she kissed him, he pushed her away, but after another kiss and one more, they madeout. Of course he felt guilty and told you today, but that doesn’t change what happened.

“I just want you to know that I fucking loved you Adam! I fucking loved you and go and do this?!” He doesn’t care that you’re crying in his living room, no, at least it doesn’t feel like it cause all he’s been doing for the past five minutes is telling you to ‘get out’ and leave.

“I don’t know what you want me to do!”

“I don’t know what I want you to do either! Do I think I wouldn’t fuck tell you if I didn't?!” Furiously wiping away your tears with the sleeves of your shirt, you try to ignore the throbbing in your head. “I fucking HATE this you know that?! I fucking hate that you’re forcing me to do this!”

“I’m not forcing you to do anything!”

“Yes you are!”

“No I’m not!”

“I c-” you choke on a sob, having to catch your breath, “I can’t do this. I- I’m breaking up with you Adam.”

“You can’t,” he whines, his expression suddenly changing at he looks at you with pleading eyes.

“It’s too late. I just did.” Making your way toward the exit, you know you need to get away from here and move on as fast as you can.

Paul Sevier:

“Paul, can we talk?” You ask as you sit down in a chair at a corner table at a random cafe you’d picked to go to for lunch today. Keeping your purse in your lap, Paul doesn’t fail to notice that’s odd.

“Isn’t that what we’re already doing?” He jokes, smiling as he chuckles, scooting in his chair as he gets settled in the chair across from you.

“Okay, sure, but I mean seriously,” you sigh. He can tell this isn’t going anywhere good. Something’s up. “I want to break-up. I’m not happy anymore, I can’t do this. You’re a nice guy, I like you, sure, but I have this co-worker who I like and has been asking me out and... I just... I can’t do it. I don’t want to do that to you, so... I want to break-up.”

“But-” he’s taken aback, his jaw dropped as he shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed as he processes everything, “Uh... just like that? What about the wedding?” He asks stunned, his heart not even in pain as he can’t comprehend what’s happening in this moment. Where had he gone wrong? What did he do?Was it something he said?

Taking off your ring you place it on the table for him. “We never planned it, so there’s nothing to cancel. I thought I could live this kind of life, but with you gone all the time, I just... can’t do it. I don’t think I could live like that. I’m sorry. I don’t want to draw this out Paul, I really don’t. I loved you, I really did, and it broke me for a long time to even think about this. But I know that I’d never be happy just keeping this up. I really hope you find somebody. I have to go.”

Within another moment you’re gone. Paul doesn’t move an inch. The diamond ring glints in the mid-day sun on the table and he quickly springs into action to snatch it into his hand and stuff it into his pocket under the table, removing the scene of its evidence like it never even happened. The waiter comes up to the table and offers him a menu, greeting him with a smile which he doesn’t return. “I’ll just take one margarita please.”

Flip Zimmerman:

Parking outside your house, Flip shuts the engine off and gets out of the car to lean against it. You know he said 7:30, so you should be out the door any minute now. He taps his foot against the pavement, admiring the way the trees blow in the wind, leaves starting to turn yellow and red as autumn approaches. A minute passes, then another before he pulls out his packet of cigarettes and his lighter. A breath of fresh smoke wafts into his lungs with his breath, he holds it for a moment before letting it out, the smoke curling up and disappearing into the air. Holding the cigarette between his fingers he perks up when he hears the screen door swing shut. A smirk displays itself upon his lips as you trail down the driveway, you dress swaying with your hips and your heels clacking against the concrete. It isn’t until you’re right up in his face that you go in for a kiss, only to halt a centimeter away, your smile turning into a frown.

“You lied to me Flip Zimmerman,” you accuse.

“Bout what, Doll?” He responds calmly, flicking the cigarette to knock the ash off and onto the street below. Small qualms like these don’t phase him, everyone’s got a bone to pick and Flip doesn’t have time for it. All of his days are spent dealing with fights and problems, the least he can have is his time-off spent with peace and coolness.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you say sarcastically, backing up a bit as you toy with him, “maybe the fact that you don’t work for Bobby’s mechanics, but you’re in fact, a fucking pig?!” Shoving his chest, Flip’s eyebrows furrow together as he takes another puff of his cigarette before tossing it aside onto the street.

“That’s what you’re mad about?” He asks seriously, taking a step toward you.

“You’re not denying it- so it’s true?” You put your hands on your hips.

“And what if it is? You got a problem with me being a ‘pig’?” He mocks you, hating the recent reputation the police have started to get, and the problem you’re personally taking up with him since you know fully well that he’s not like other cops, he’s a good man through and through. At least, he tries to be.

“Yes, I do, and for starts it means I don't want to be seen going around with no pig! So you can count yourself out, Casanova.”

“Fine! Whatever, as if I care! You weren’t the first and you won’t be the last, babydoll!” Rounding his car, he tears open the door and gets in, slamming it shut behind him before speeding off.

#kylo ren x reader #charlie barber x reader #Clyde Logan x reader #Adam Sackler x Reader #Paul Sevier x Reader #flip zimmerman x reader #angst #my writing #kylo ren x reader angst #Charlie Barber x Reader angst #Clyde Logan x Reader angst #Paul Sevier x Reader angst #Adam Sackler x Reader angst #Flip Zimmerman x Reader angst #breakup headcanons #headcanons #angst headcanons #oh-adam #request

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elisende · 4 years

Text

Sharp Teeth

Characters: Halsin/OMC, Astarion Rating: E Words: 2500

Halsin joins Langoth's camp and Astarion isn't thrilled about it. But Halsin and the ranger's mutual fascination is unyielding and undeniable.

There was an energy in the air, the sort of charge that preceded a night of more than mere revelry. It would be a night of abandon. Halsin could sense it.

The young elf, Langoth--he allowed himself the pleasure of saying the name aloud, under his breath, like a cantrip, or a prayer--had chosen a fair site for his camp by the water’s edge.

The mere fact of it reminded him of the youth, his wounded eyes and battle-hardened hands. He saw him in the neatly constructed fire at the heart of the camp, and in the fallen beech trunk by the water, where he knew Langoth must sit most nights, at the mercy of his grim thoughts, twisting the ring on his finger and staring sightlessly into the rushing stream. In many ways, he was not so different from Ketheric, before he was lost to the darkness.

Halsin found a place for himself away from the gathering crowd of anarchic tieflings, who danced and frisked about the camp like so many red flames.

It was not long before the pale elf, Langoth’s vampiric companion, sauntered over. He wore a slashed velvet doublet and a crooked smile. Halsin had seen through his facade in the Shattered Sanctum quickly enough, and his hunch had been confirmed when the pale elf had dug his dripping fangs into an acolyte’s throat. He wouldn’t soon forget that sight.

“Well met,” the vampire spawn said. “Decided to join us, have you? I imagine you’ll be quite a favorite in the adventuring party. For a time, at least.”

Halsin laughed a laugh which was not a laugh at all, but a species of growl. “Oh, I’m merely here for advice. Ketheric Thorm and I have a bit of unfinished business.”

“That is rather your thing, isn’t it? ‘Unfinished business’?” said the pale elf. So he knew, or had guessed, about Halsin’s connection with Langoth. He couldn’t imagine that Langoth had told his companion about their night together, about the ritual, the wild game. But he did seem the type to sniff these things out.

When he didn’t rise to his bait, the vampire spawn shifted tactics. “We haven’t been properly introduced, have we? Langoth is an eminently capable ranger, but somewhat lacking in social graces. Raised by wolves, you know,” he said, showing his teeth. “I am Astarion.”

“I have a higher opinion of wolves than of most civilized people,” Halsin said. “At least they’re plain in their intentions.”

Astarion laughed, a silky, practiced sound. “You’re going to be great fun, I can just tell.”

“‘Fun’ is not a word that’s usually ascribed to me.” He folded his arms in front of his chest. The vampire spawn attacked and dodged like a phase spider, impossible to pin down.

“Oh, I have a hard time believing that. You must join me for a sip of wine this evening. My ego will be terribly crushed if you decline,” Astarion said. “Really, you mustn't make me beg. It would be unseemly.”

“Actually, you seem the sort that might enjoy that,” Halsin said.

“See, you are fun, even if you are old enough to be my grandsire,” Astarion smirked. “Well, I’ll see you tonight, then.” And he swept away on a waft of sweet violet perfume before Halsin could correct him.

Halsin heaved a weary sigh, glancing over as Langoth’s comrades gathered near the fire. His heart seemed to treble in size as he expectantly looked around for Langoth, who was never far from his companions. But he was not yet here. Perhaps still palavering with Zevlor, then. He tried to quash his disappointment and failed. Now that he’d found Langoth--now that they had found each other--every moment spent apart felt somehow wasted. He felt like a lovesick adolescent again, as ridiculous as that was--for as Astarion had so mordantly noted, he was old enough to be the elf’s grandfather.

Night fell and as the chaotic energy built up and the din of the crowd grew with the flames of the bonfire, Halsin’s gaze lifted to the waning moon that ascended over the horizon. Despite all that had happened, and his many mistakes, he was not often prone to regrets, to dwelling on the past. Perhaps this too came with his advancing age. He had never felt so apart before, not just from the others laughing and dancing and drinking and singing by the fire. Apart from himself. If he could not end Ketheric’s curse, now and finally, what had his long life amounted to? What was its purpose?

And then Langoth was beside him, as though summoned by magic. Firelight danced in his eyes. A smile on his lips. Warmth that Halsin could lose himself in, forgetting all doubt and darkness. This one, he could protect: and that would be enough. He felt it in his marrow.

Langoth’s lips found his and there was a sudden rush of heat, like dry grass catching flame. His mouth was sweet; Halsin lost himself in the kiss, running a hand through the younger elf’s chestnut hair, taking in his scent. Then pulling his hips closer, dangerously close.

When they finally broke away, Langoth asked, “Why are you standing over here alone in the dark?”

He might have lied, to save his pride. But they were past such things. “I was waiting for you,” he said.

The other elf paused, drew his breath. “You should join the celebration, you know. This is as much your victory as the tieflings’. The Emerald Grove is safe now.”

“Nowhere is safe, while the shadow Ketheric unleashed still remains.” He failed to keep the darkness from his voice. He didn’t wish to think of Ketheric but felt bound to warn Langoth. If their path led there--to Moonrise Towers--there was much that was needful to know.

But not tonight. “Come to me later,” he said, taking Langoth’s wrist and looking into his eyes. They shone with starlight. The young elf leaned closer, lips brushing Halsin’s ear, his warm breath sighing on Halsin’s neck, heating his blood anew.

“I don’t want to wait until later,” Langoth whispered. The youth’s impatience, his hunger and urgency, reminded him of their stolen moments in the grove the day before. How Langoth had bitten his arm to keep from crying out and giving them away, even drawing blood when Halsin had taken him with too much force. The memory of it quickened his breath.

“Where?” Halsin asked, glancing toward the increasingly wild revels, the glowing heart of the camp aroar with gaiety. Langoth took his hand and pulled him further into the darkness, under the hush of the pines. His tread was soft; the elf knew his woodcraft.

They stopped in a small clearing where a stone table stood under a gnarled oak. A place of sacrifice which he recognized from many years ago.

“This once was consecrated to Corellon, in the days when our ancestors ruled the Sword Coast,” he said, examining the runes on the table. Magic had preserved them against the elements, but even the enchantments were now wearing away. Only a slight tingle of it remained under his fingertips.

“Ancient history,” Langoth teased, leaping onto the table with ease. Despite all, he was still, at least in part, a heedless youth given to demonstrations of skill.

“That’s blasphemy,” Halsin said with a wry smile.

“You’ve not seen anything yet.” And Langoth knelt on the table, dipping his head just slightly to give Halsin a long, sensuous kiss. His lips trailed down Halsin’s throat, finding the gap at the top of his tunic, where he lapped the base of his neck with lingering, greedy strokes of his tongue. Halsin groaned.

Frustrated by the druid’s tunic and straps, Langoth impatiently pulled at the buckles, swearing in filthy Baldurian street slang when they defied him. “Here is a riddle,” Halsin said. “How does a wood elf of noble bearing learn to curse like a Heapside cutpurse?”

Langoth’s mouth was otherwise occupied, however; he was now unbuckling Halsin’s baldric with his teeth. He hissed when they caught his skin instead. “Careful,” he murmured. But the elf had succeeded and was pulling away his clothes, eager hands gliding over the bare skin beneath.

Finally, Halsin stood bare-chested and Langoth paused to admire him, his fingers tracing the fading vine tattoos that extended from his face down the length of his torso, coiling just below the line of his breeches. Halsin shivered under his touch, the rough callus of the elf’s bow finger chastising his flesh.

“So many scars,” Langoth said. He touched a long-healed wound that ran horizontally across Halsin’s ribs, the slash of a wyvern’s claws. Now he knelt to kiss along the scar even as his hand wandered down the front of Halsin’s breeches. Halsin moaned as Langoth palmed his cock through the rough weave of the linen. He was already so hard. He reminded himself to take things slower, this time, even as every part of him wanted to pull Langoth from the stone slab and take him against the rough bark of the ancient oak tree.

Reluctantly, he pulled back from the ranger’s touch and kissed him again on the mouth, slowly but forcefully, insisting. Now his hands found the front of the youth’s jerkin and began to unlace it--it had to be said, with more deftness, if more slowly. His skin beneath was hot--nearly feverish, even--and soft, unblemished save by the few silvery scars Halsin had noticed before on his back. He wondered about those, as he wondered about the Baldurian slang, about the fear that lived in his gaze, and about the strange affliction that the elf and his companions were battling.

“Most of your scars are invisible, aren’t they?” he whispered into Langoth’s ear. The youth stilled like a stalked deer; even his breath seemed to stop. He half-expected Langoth to pull away from him, to slip off into the darkness and leave Halsin for the party, or for another partner without uncomfortable questions about the past, or just for solitude with the ghosts of his past.

But instead, the ranger drew him into another kiss, this one desperate, rough, wild. He slid forward on the table, hand finding Halsin’s cock again, this time underneath his breeches. He gripped the base and achingly slowly stroked along his shaft to pause at the tip. Halsin felt almost weak with desire, leaning forward against the table for support with a moan.

“You want me,” Langoth said. It was not a question.

“You know that I do,” Halsin gasped. The youth was kneeling above him, skin aglow as marble in the moonlight. He tugged down Langoth’s leather breeches, exposing the top of his pelvis, the angles of his hip bones. He kissed there roughly, making him sigh. His hands cupped the elf’s firm round ass and pulled him closer to the edge before unlacing the rest of the breeches to expose his manhood.

Remembering his own admonition to move slowly, Halsin bowed over the youth’s cock and ran his lips over the crown before beginning to tease it with his tongue. Langoth was salty and tasted so slightly of the leather he wore. Above him, the elf groaned, taking Halsin’s hair in his fists and pulling involuntarily as the druid took more of him into his mouth.

Halsin’s self imposed restraint was more than matched by the youth’s eagerness as he arched his hips to force himself deeper and deeper into Halsin’s mouth. When the youth moaned, a high and helpless sound, the druid knew he was close to coming, that Langoth was pushing himself to the edge and beyond it as hard and fast as he could.

With a shudder in his lean hips, a sigh, Langoth’s climax overtook them, filling Halsin’s throat with salty nectar. He coughed, but the youth was beyond noticing. He’d fallen back from his knees to rest, gasping, on the stone slab, eyes fixed to the stars above. A tear suspended from the corner of one eye, and while it could have simply been provoked by their exertions the druid knew better. He wiped it away with his thumb and held the youth’s face in his hand for a time.

Finally, Langoth looked back to him, and his eyes were unreadable. “Take me here,” he said. “Don’t be gentle, this time.” And he slipped off the ceremonial table to bend over it, resting his cheek against the hewn stone.

His back was long and rippled with muscles and the faint tracery of the silver scars. In defiance of the elf’s words, Halsin ran his fingers slowly down the length of it, pausing when he came to his buttocks where the creamy tops of his cheeks were barely exposed by his breeches. He eased them down, hands shaking. He’d never wanted him more than this moment and he wished to stretch it out as long as he could. He pressed himself to the elf’s ass, relishing the answering cry, the way he rose to push against Halsin’s cock. He parted his cheeks and slid his finger inside of him, two, thrusting faster, and when he began to use more force the elf gasped in pleasure. This was what he wanted.

He could restrain himself no longer. Langoth cried out as he entered him, even though the first dip of his hips was shallow. The youth was so tight. Halsin adjusted the angle of his hips, so as not to hurt him but Langoth leaned forward to take him deeper. “Harder,” he demanded, his voice thick.

Halsin gathered himself for a deeper thrust, moving forcefully but still slowly, mindful not to hurt the elf in spite of his demands. Yet he was fighting his own impulses at the same time. He wanted to take the youth with the same abandon as in the rite they had performed under the eyes of another, wilder god, those decades ago. That night imposed itself on the present and his hips seemed to move of their own accord. Langoth grunted as his tempo increased, as the druid rutted him, heedless as an animal.

A moan escaped Halsin’s lips as he sank himself up to hilt into the youth writhing and groaning below him. Distantly, he heard the youth call his name, begging him. He grasped Langoth’s hips, taking him deeper than ever before even as his climax blindsided him, crashing over him like a wave. He finished with a muffled cry as he came inside the youth, bowing his head over him and releasing a shuddering breath.

Below him, Langoth was still but for his breathing. Halsin rested his head on the ranger’s back as he caught his own breath, only to see the power of their joining had activated some of the ancient magic on the stone table, making the runes glow. This was the moment, he realized--under the stars’ vigil, under the eyes of the gods themselves, by dint of ancient rite--that their bond had been forever sealed.

#bg3 Halsin #halsin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #fanfic #fanfiction #halsin/omc langoth

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worfs-glorious-hair · 4 years

Text

Puzzle Pieces: Interlude-What is a soulmate?(RK-800 Connor x Reader; Deroit: Become Human) Part 4

Greeeeeetings!

I am glad to be back (finally) after a whole year. I am sorry.

A lot happened and I hope that you are in a safe space. I am sending you a social-distanced and corona-free hug! <3

Also, big shoutout to all the old and new readers and peeps who found their way to this fanfiction in the last year. Reading the notifications of likes and retweets and even asks to be tagged in the next part never failed to make me feel so happy and giggly inside. This chapter was actually posted already a few weeks ago on AO3 but only now I finally got around to update on here as well. So extra-kudos for your extra-patience! :D <3

We’re doing some world-building in this chapter and our boi Connor feels things and is overall confused by the answers he finds. A lot to look forward to for you. :D

And one more thing until I finally let you go to reading, I decided to specify the reader's pronouns and settled with female pronouns. But otherwise than that I still try to write the reader as open as possible that you have more room to find yourself in the story. If you would prefer different pronouns, tho, please message me and we'll figure something out for you. I am there for you and I want to respect your pronouns and want you to have a good reading experience.

Spoilers for the game in the following chapter, btw.

I think I’ve kept you from the chapter now long enough. Enjoy reading. <3

Message me if you want to be tagged in the next chapter.

Stay safe and please be responsible and wear a mask over nose and mouth.

All my love, lady-spacy

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Interlude- What is a soulmate?

"Lieutenant", Connor asked, "what is a soulmate? I noticed that the subject of 'soulmates' appears in two out of three conversations and it caused always a measurable change in one's body chemistry. For example, I detected an increased level of serotonin and..."

"Do you stop talking if I answer your question?", a very tired Lieutenant Anderson interrupted Connor's analysis. Hank knew that if he wouldn't be stopped soon, Connor would continue to talk about hormones and blushes and cheesy giggles and all that exhausting stuff that came with the topic of soulmates. The only way to shut that noisy android up was to answer his questions and they would be in the car to Kamski’s estate for another twenty minutes. And twenty minutes could be long next to someone who wants to talk so badly when all you want to do is to drive in peace.

"Of course, Lieutenant."

Hank rolled his eyes and fought the urge to sigh, of fucking course would that shut Connor up. He was predictable after all, very – curious but predictable.

“A soulmate is your, uh, uhm, your lifelong partner. I mean, not your partner, I don’t think Androids have soulmates…”, Hank eyed Connor from the side and wondered what his LED ring on his temple looked like. He had realized that whenever Connor was thinking about something his LED would spin around, sometimes slow, sometimes even faster. Sometimes it would even change the color and would go from blue to yellow.

And now Hank found himself wondering what that Android did to him, that he cared about what Connor thought.

Connor had watched Hank closely and attentive. He wanted to know, he wanted to understand.

“No, Lieutenant, Androids do not have soulmates. But I still don’t understand what a soulmate differs from a good friend? What is it that makes you have the names written on your bodies, who decides on what name, which person, will appear on your body, why are your destinies supposed to be connected by something, apparently without your consent. Did you ever choose to have a soulmate?”

‘Yeah’, Hank thought by himself, ‘good questions.’

“Soulmates are a difficult topic”, he finally spoke out loud. Trying to find words to explain a concept that no one really understood.

”Even scientists didn’t’t found all answers”, continued Hank, “as far as I know, they aren’t even close. We don’t know what bonds us to another human being. Soulmates are said to be ‘tied together from the universe itself’”, Hank drew quotation marks in the air with his right hand that wasn’t on the wheel, “but whatever it is that decided about that, we’re having to deal with that shit now. And for your question, soulmates are supposed to be partners, lovers even, a team that belongs together. People who give each other security and safety. It’s a nice idea but in reality it doesn’t play out. We don’t choose our soulmates and don’t get a say with it. There is no ‘consent’ in that soulmate shit, as you put it in words.”

“Have you found your soulmate, Lieutenant? Was your heart broken and this is why you now doubt the idea of soulmates? I can detect patterns of emotional distress in your voice.”

“Jeez, do you try to be fucking psychiatrist now?”

„No“, came Connor‘s immediate answer.

„I am just trying to understand human nature better.”

“Well, there is a name on my wrist, if that’s what you want to know. But at the end it was only a name. Just because you have a name there doesn’t mean that you will live happily ever after. Life can still happen…”

For Hank this was it, he had already said enough. He glanced over to Connor who still looked at him, Hank, with this never ending gleam of curiosity and analyzing that always surrounded him.

Android? Hank wondered if this was truly the nature of that boy, sure his body was artificial but what about his heart?

‘Androids don’t have hearts’ would have said the Hank from just four days ago and now he just wasn’t sure about that anymore. He had seen so much, he had seen two girls, who were so deeply in love that they were willing to do anything to be together, he had seen Connor deciding not to shoot these girls and let them get away, obviously going against his programming as a hunter.

And then Connor’s answers two nights ago on that playground, Hank had seen trouble in his eyes, he had heard the poorly covered confusion in his voice, which left him confused as well.

Hank started to wonder if they were wrong, what if Androids could be more than the illusion of a human?

“Mr Kamski?“, Hank called, when he and Connor were finally let in to meet Elijah Kamski.

“Just a moment, please”, came the immediate answer from the other side of the room, where the former CEO of Cyberlife was currently swimming in a pool with red tiles that made it look like it was filled with blood instead of water.

While they waited for him to come out of the pool, Connor took the time to look around in the large room with big art pieces on the walls and a glass window that filled the whole outer wall and showed the view towards the frozen Detroit River.

He turned around again when he heard water splashing, signaling a body that was lifted out of it and he saw Kamski climbing up the pool ladder.

Acting on a sudden impulse Connor tried to catch a glimpse of Kamski’s wrist hoping to see his soulmark as the RT-600 Chloe, who had opened the door for them, helped Kamski put on a bath robe but before he came close enough to see, Kamski turned around to the window and fixed his hair.

When he turned back to him and Hank he smirked at Connor, just as he had read his mind, and crossed his hands loosely over is lower abdomen, completely blocking the view to his wrists.

And kept his hands like this for the rest of the conversation.

„I always leave an emergency exit in my programs…“, Kamski looked at Connor with his sly, sparkling eyes, full with endless smugness and the touch of a smirk on the corners of his mouth.

As if this whole exchange has not been confusing and frightening enough for Connor, he had to deal with this mysterious comment now, too. What does that mean? What does he want to say with it?

Connor would like to ask but he would probably just get another riddle as an answer.

“Connor, wait!”

A voice called him back as he was about to head outside.

He stopped and turned around to the original RT-600 model, her eyes burning with an intensity and significance that Connor had never seen before, at least not in an Android’s eyes. He could not look away.

Again, as he locked eyes with the very first Android, who was able to pass the Turing test, he saw more there. For the same reason that he hasn’t been able to shoot not even seven minutes ago, for the same reason did he now stop in his tracks and waited patiently for what she had to say.

She...

That word lingered in his mind for a very long moment.

‘What is happening?’ screamed his mind, unable to cope. His mind was drowning in too many illogical new information and sensations.

This is too much!

‘I can’t look away’, Connor realized as he stared into her burning eyes, his mind being filled with just one thought: ‘Whatever is happening here right now is important! Don’t blink!’

“The truth is beneath your skin”, she said hastily, softly tipping on his right wrist with her index finger, right where the sleeves of his jacket ended.

He followed the movement of her finger with his eyes and stared at his wrist. What could be there, hiding, waiting?

“The truth is there, everything you need to know!” Connor did not know what to say or do, he just kept staring at his wrist, trying to see, to understand, what she could possibly be talking about.

He continued staring at his wrist and her finger until he finally came back to his senses, after too many seconds that are an eternity for Androids.

Blinking away once again the warning for the never ending, wildly spinning software instability that had appeared when that Chloe had stopped him.

Connor practically sprinted outside to Hank and his car.

^^ Software Instability ^^

R#aN%9I=97&°

Connor took a step back in surprise, Androids could have soulmates!

Ortiz’ Android had a soulmark! Written in blue CyberLife fond stood a name on the Android’s wrist, Melanie.

Maybe the soulmarks came with deviancy, Connor thought, maybe their soulmate was only revealed when they became deviant. Meaning that there had always been someone who was meant to be- waiting, sleeping under the skin. Meaning that deviancy was a lot more than a virus or a software error. Deviancy could be a revelation of life in all of it’s aspects.

But deviancy was just an irregularity in the programming, Connor thought, seeking comfort in programmed truths that he wanted to believe so badly. Truths that did not feel true anymore. But if he didn’t believe in them, he had nothing left to believe in. Connor was lost. Lost between the destroyed bodies of Androids who had only wanted peace, justice or a home.

Connor stood on an edge, every time a software instability appeared he could see the abyss, he did not want to fall!

So he clung onto the only truths he ever knew. Otherwise he would become like them, just another broken machine.

He continued examining the Androids’ bodies and finds from his missions for a clue for Jericho in the evidence room of the Detroit Police Department. While he scanned and analyzed, he tried to find comfort in the tasks that he was created for–the software instabilities that occurred even more regularly now in the past days confused and scared him, Connor couldn’t comprehend what was happening to him- he needed to be uninterrupted if he wanted to find the deviant leader and finally bring back order into this chaos.

Connor craved peace, he craved the monotone calmness of executing programs and tasks, no emotions, no insecurities, no confusion.

But his thoughts came always back to soulmates- how could this be possible?

Deviancy was maybe caused by a computer virus and soulmates were supposed to be a real lifelong connection between two human beings, that were alive and had a soul. Soulmates for Androids just couldn’t work, Androids just don’t have souls!

They are only machines, programmed to think, they have no real mind of their own and yet all of the Androids in the evidence room had their soulmarks on their wrists.

Daniel even had a name written in red by a human’s hand as his soulmark.

A human had been Daniel’s soulmate… But what about his soulmate now, do they search now forever for someone who is not alive anymore?

Alive…

And again, another warning for a software instability appeared in Connor‘s periphery. He blinked it away.

How could this be that he had actually thought of Daniel as ‘once alive’?

He, Connor, the currently on duty RK- 800 model, the android sent by CyberLife to hunt down deviants, who was faster, better and more advanced than any Android before him, who was programmed to follow orders, that were given to him, with precision and no room for doubts, second thoughts or even a mind of his own, he, Connor, had thought about an Android who he had hunted down with that precision, executing his advanced negotiating programs and earning the Android‘s trust in the end, as dead.

Alive means that something can die, not to be destroyed, not to be deactivated, not to be shut down. Life and death are terms to describe flesh and blood, red blood. Not blue blood.

But maybe, Connor thought and the LED on his temple went yellow for yet another time on this day, maybe, just maybe, was there another truth for Androids and for him. Maybe there was life and death and love and emotions, maybe there was a soul.

It was as time had slowed down for a moment as he jumped, no, as he was flying...

He saw snowflakes passing him in slow motion, he was seeing all their details, all their individuality, despite their outer uniformity of one shared build.

It was mesmerizing–and odd.

Odd because he saw their beauty, he did not just made an analysis of their geometrical structures or chemical composition, he saw them glittering and dancing in the lights of the pier.

This was new and wonderful, it was as he would be seeing for the first time, as he had been blindfolded all this time...

The moment passed as Connor hit through the surface of the Detroit River, dulled from the water around him he could hear the explosion of Jericho behind him.

‘I hope everyone made it out’, he thought as he resurfaced.

His head was spinning, not from the explosion or the jump in the freezing cold water, physically he was in perfect condition, but mentally it did feel like he just jumped out of a 20 meter freighter that exploded right behind him. He was feeling– something. Emotions were still so new to him that naming them was difficult for Connor.

He was deviant now! He had broken down the red wall that had kept him in place for so long, he had pushed and pulled against the order to stop Markus until the wall crumbled down, fell around him. Connor had lowered the gun and did the only thing that he could in that moment to show his gratitude. He warned Markus. The FBI would come and attack Jericho. He knew about the plans and in another world, a lifetime ago, did he plan to help the soldiers and to hunt Markus down, to drive him into a corner and to end the uprising, there and now. But now, everything was different. The hunter had become the prey in just a blink of an eye. Everything was different now.

‘What will Markus do now?’ Connor wondered. ‘He knows just as well as I do, who it was, who had led the FBI, the humans, to Jericho. Can he ever trust me? Can I trust myself? I fell, now it happened, the abyss caught me…’

Connor set course for the pier and swam towards a short stone staircase that was normally used to board the smaller boats that landed there.

“Here, let me help you”, an Android, whom Connor did not know, smiled kindly down to him from the pier and offered him a hand, which Connor took after a short moment of doubt, how could that Android be kind to him, he was the deviant hunter after all. The unfamiliar Android held Connor’s hand firmly and quickly helped him out of the water, while Connor climbed up the steps, slick and slippery from the water and several kinds of algae and seaweed.

The Android made a sound of satisfaction and nodded as Connor finally stood next to him, dripping wet and his beanie and hair sticking to his forehead. That he had not lost the beanie surprised him, but it was a pleasant surprise, finding a way through the city under curfew would be much easier with the beanie now that would hide his LED.

“Ah, there we go. How are you?”, the Android asked him and smiled again, warm, kind and honest.

There was no hostility in his eyes, smile or posture, Connor came to the conclusion that he just simply did not know who he was.

And he enjoyed his friendliness, never before had he been treated with such kindness.

“I am good, thank you. I should dry up. Otherwise I am afraid that my servos will freeze and cause severe damage to my system.”

A human would have probably not survived a jump like that and if they would have survived the jump itself, the freezing water would have quickly led to a fatal hypothermia, if they would have not be gotten out of the water very quickly and put out of their wet clothes and into a warm place with new clothes, but Connor was not human and it helped him survive now.

Being able to carefully heat up his inner systems he was able to dry himself up from the inside and to even dry his hair and clothes.

Feeling better now, as he was dried up again and could move all of his joints without any hindrance, he tried to smile at the gentle Android, to show him his gratitude.

He smiled back at him, again, warm, welcoming and sincere.

„I am Malcolm by the way, who are you?“

And for the second time this evening the Android, Malcolm, offered Connor his hand.

Malcolm, radiated such warmth and love, he was more human than many humans were and it was easy to take his outstretched hand and shake it. Connor felt safe with him and his heavy heart got a little lighter from his friendliness.

„It is good to meet you, Malcolm, my name-“, Connor stopped mid-sentence, he was about to use his programmed introduction, just stating his given name and origin in CyberLife but the name they had given him had become his identity he was now more than the Android sent by CyberLife…

With a short nod he decided to be Connor and closed his still open introduction with a, hopefully, friendly look on his face: „I am Connor!“

A human wouldn’t have noticed, but Connor did, how Malcolm’s brows just slightly rose and a look of, was it surprise or even delightment, took over Malcolm’s face for a brief moment until he started smiling ever so slightly again and even seemed to be satisfied.

„Ever heard of soulmates, Connor?“, Malcolm asked with a sly grin tugging on the left corner of his mouth and Connor was confused.

“Hey, would you show me your arm, please?”

Even more confused now Connor looked over to Malcolm who had anticipation written all over his face.

“Why do you want to see my arm?” asked Connor back and Malcolm’s face got soft.

“I have a debt to pay and if you are, who I think you are, you can help me do that. I have a friend, who was always there for me, even long before I became deviant, was I treated with kindness and humanity by her and she also helped me to come to Detroit, so I can stand, march, fight with my people. Without her help, I wouldn’t be here now. When I was lost, scared and afraid did she catch me in her arms. I owe her my life. She never asked for anything in return, she only said that it is what friends do for each other. But I was always very sad, that I would never be able to do for her what she had done for me. But that I’ve met you right now, right here, was a sign that I can make her biggest dream come true.”

“Her biggest dream?”, Connor asked, his wrist tingling.

Malcolm nodded and smiled brightly. “Yes. Because I think that I’ve found her soulmate.”

Malcolm stopped walking and turned to Connor, grabbing him by the shoulders, smiled softly and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Connor, I think you are my friend’s soulmate, who she had prayed for, for her entire life!”

Soulmate…

Something inside of Connor was spinning, soulmate, he had a soulmate?

Of course, of course he had a soulmate, he was deviant now! How could he not? He had seen the prove of the possibility in the evidence room on each of the Androids’ bodies. On their wrists…

Excitement was rushing through him as he quickly pushed up the sleeves of his jacket and shirt and found a name on his right wrist. He stared at the red letters, sweepingly written, all of the bows and every line and dot written by his soulmate’s hand.

His soulmate!

Connor whispered your name, tasting it on his tongue.

Oh, he would never get enough of it!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part 5

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