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qqueenofhades · 4 years

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Thank you for your answer to my last ask! Just sort of carrying on from that, what do you think about how they should cover medieval queerness in a potential prequel? I read your post about the deep relationships between knights which was really interesting. I guess what I'm asking is what would "Period-typical Homophobia" for Nicky and Joe actually be? Thank you for educating us better than school does.

Okay, I’m gonna come in here with a Scorching Hot Take that may ruffle some feathers, but possibly... none?

If the point of including casual homophobia or homophobic references is literally just for the sake of evoking some supposed Medieval Bigotry for ~Le Atmosphere Of Dark Age, there is a) no point to it, and b) not much historical evidence either. People love to point out that we didn’t have the modern identity labels of “gay,” “lesbian,” “bisexual,” etc. in the olden days -- well, in that case, we don’t have modern homophobia either, or reactions to those behaviors in the same way. We don’t even have much textual evidence for how ordinary people (outside clerical/religious elites, who would be predisposed to disapprove, just like the religious right today) reacted to so-called “queerness” in their communities, and the circumstantial evidence we DO have suggested that it was far from any imagined universal experience of rejection and isolation. Besides, what we call ��queer” due to fragile modern heteronormativty and toxic masculinity was actually intensely normal for medieval people.

One of the tiresome arguments that Straight Historians tend to use, when queer historians are arguing for a queer, romantic, or sexual relationship between two people of the same gender (usually men, because that’s who mostly appears in our sources), is that “friendship was a lot more romantic/intimate/emotional/physical in nature back then!!! They’re not gay They’re Just Pals!!” This is actually true, in that medieval men, far from this Iron Man No Homo No Emotions trope that (once again) we ourselves have come up with, were encouraged (as I wrote about in my gay knights post) to love each other almost, if not quite, beyond reason. There was so much crying, kissing, embracing, tender declarations of loyalty, etc (see: Is It Gay or Is It Feudalism?) Any of those behaviors would make the modern viewer go “lololol HOMOSEXUAL!!!”, but it’s not even always the case? The standards of physical affection, vows of devotion, and close emotional bonds even between platonic friends were just different, and while yes, there was a corresponding anxiety about this attachment turning sexual, the fact that it was considered as a worry in the first place shows you how intense these bonds could be. So while the modern viewer may see two men acting like that and go “oh no gay cooties,” this just wouldn’t raise any eyebrows at all to a medieval person, and hence they’re not going to come back with some dumb manufactured homophobic comment.

Next, in re Joe and Nicky specifically: I SORELY long for a scene in this imaginary prequel where after something romantic has happened between them for the first time, Nicky understandably freaks out a little and goes to confession. There is one other guy in front of him, and a bored priest who is not very good at his job. Guy In Front of Nicky (we’ll call him Guy) goes into the booth and kneels. Priest looks at him, doesn’t even ask. “Oh, is it sodomy again? Fine, seven days fasting bread and water, say two decades of the rosary, Ego te absolvo in nomine Patris -- ”

Waiting outside the booth, Nicky can hear this (since remember this priest is Bad at his Job and has apparently never met the concept of confessional confidentiality in his life) and sags in relief a little. Oh sodomy isn’t that bad, right, it’s a venial sin, no big --

“Father,” says Guy, “I confess that I have also consorted with a Saracen in search of a magical remedy.”

(We don’t gender the Saracen, because we don’t believe in supporting stereotypes, and since it’s established Guy is into Kinky Stuff, you never know.)

Priest LOSES HIS SHIT.

“You WHAAAAAAAT? CONSORTING WITH A SARACEN FOR MAGIC!! THIS IS A TERRIBLE SIN!!! YOU NEED TO REPENT IMMEDIATELY!!!”

Cut back to Nicky. OH SHIT!!! Sodomy not bad, he could deal with that. Consorting with a Saracen?? OH SON YOU’RE DOOMED. SODOMY WITH A SARACEN??? OH MY GOD I’M GOING TO HELL!

Cue Nicky’s silent existential crisis Dying in the background while the priest lectures Guy to within an inch of his life. Finally, Guy decides fuck this priest (not like that, this is not Fleabag) and scuttles out. A thoroughly terrified Nicky thinks about following him, but since the priest has already seen him, he can’t flee. He goes into the booth and kneels down, Quaking.

“What have you come to confess, my son?”

Nicky.exe has stopped working.

“.....jealousy.”

You get the idea. And guess what? This would be COMPLETELY accurate, because if we were using, say, Burchard of Worms’ Decretum, an early 11th-century handbook advising priests what penalties to give to various sins, that’s basically how it’s treated. Sodomy is blown over briefly with the other venial sins as a certain amount of days fasting on bread and water, while Burchard is really, really worried about witchcraft, magic, non-Christian beliefs, and other such things. So again, really, what is “Period-Typical Homophobia?” We’ve already established that behavior between two men that would raise modern eyebrows would be absolutely nothing remarkable to a medieval person, while priests obviously don’t approve of sodomy, but they’re not that fussed by it either. (Unless you’re Peter the Chanter, who’s just a dick, but he is yet again one guy writing about one specific context, 12th-century Paris, and the fact that he’s complaining so much means that it’s obviously happening in reality.) Besides, the whole idea was that sodomy was the “unspeakable sin,” aka something people just didn’t mention or talk about, which is why it can be hard to track down reliable or unambiguous treatments of it. Obviously, queer erasure isn’t a surprise, but it doesn’t mean that these people didn’t exist; it just means that chroniclers, especially monastic chroniclers, didn’t write about it. So even if this is outright happening, i.e. Joe and Nicky’s romance and/or the number of other queer characters we will be sure to include for verisimilitude, there’s still no guarantee that anyone would even actually SAY something.

And besides: not every minute of history was filled with homophobia, just as not every minute was filled with filth, torture, misogyny, etc. There is actually no necessary reason to include it, especially in boring modern homophobia form, unless you’re trying to beat us over the head with Things Being Bad Back Then. Especially if we’re making a movie that honors and empowers queer people, who deserve a chance to escape into a lavish historically detailed gay romance with Joe and Nicky and not have to deal with bog-standard microaggression as a result. Because what I’ve laid out above is just as much (in fact more so) historically accurate, and MUCH more funny, interesting, authentic, and original.

(And thanks so much!! Another GREAT question.)

#history #medieval history #queer history #joe x nicky #persephone-rose-r #ask #the old guard meta

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queenlua · 3 years

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hey, i started following you recently and ur bio says ur a hacker? any tips on where to start? hacking seems like a v cool/fun way to learn more abt coding and cybersecurity/infrastructure and i'd like to explore it but there's so much on the internet and like, i'm not trying to get into anything illegal. thanks!

huh, an interesting question, ty!

i can give more tailored advice if you hit me up on chat with more specifics on your background/interests.

given what you've written here, though, i'll just assume you don't have any immediate professional aspirations (e.g. you just want to learn some things, and you aren't necessarily trying to get A Cyber Security Job TM within the next three months or w/e), and that you don't know much about any specific programming/computering domain yet.

(stuff under cut because long)

first i'd probably just try to pick some interesting problem that you think you can solve with tech. this doesn't need to be a "hacking" project at first; i was just messing around with computers for ages before i did anything involving security/exploitation.

if you don't already know how to program, you should ideally pick a problem you can solve via programming. for instance: i learned a lot back in the 2000s, when play-by-post forum RPGs were in vogue. see, i'd already been messing around, building my own personal sites, first just with HTML & CSS, and later on with Javascript and PHP. and i knew the forum software everyone used (InvisionPowerBoard) was written in PHP. so when one of the admins at my RPG complained that they'd like the ability to set multiple profile pictures, i was like, "hey i'm good at programming, want me to create a mod to do that," and then i just... did. so then they asked me to program more features, and i got all the sexy nerd cred for being Forum Mod Queen, and it was a good time, i learned a lot.

(i also got to be the person who was frantically IMed at 2am because wtf the forum is down and there's an inscrutable error, what do??? basically sysadmining! also, much less sexy! still, i learned a lot!)

the key thing is that it's gotta be a problem that's interesting to you: as much as i love making dorky sites in PHP, half the fun was seeing other people using my stuff, and i think the era of forum-based RPGs has passed. but maybe you can apply some programming talents to something that you are interested in—maybe you want to make a silly Chrome extension to make people laugh, a la Cloud to Butt, or maybe you'd like to make a program that converts pixel art into cross-stitching patterns, maybe you want to just make a cool adventure game on those annoying graphing calculators they make you use in class, or make a script for some online game you play, or make something silly with Arduino (i once made a trash can that rolled toward me when i clapped my hands; it was fun, and way easier than you'd think!), whatever.

i know a lot of hacker-types who got their start doing ROM hacking for video games—replacing the character art or animations or whatever in old NES games. that's probably more relevant than the PHP websites, at least, and is probably a solid place to get started; in my experience those communities tend to be reasonably friendly to questions. pick a small thing you want to do & ask how to do it.

also, a somewhat unconventional path, but—once i knew how to program a bit of Python, i started doing goofy junk, like, "hey can i implemented NamedTuple from scratch,” which tends to lead to Python metaprogramming, which leads to surprising shit like "oh, stack frames are literally just Python objects and you can manually edit them in the interpreter to do deliberately horrendous/silly things, my god this language allows too much reflection and i'm having too much fun"... since Python is a lot of folks' first language these days, i thought i'd point that out, since i think this is a pretty accessible start to thinking about How Programs Actually Work under the hood. allison kaptur has some specific recommendations on how to poke around, if you wanna go that route.

it's reasonably likely you'll end up doing something "hackery" in the natural course of just working on stuff. for instance, while i was working on the IPB forum software mods, i became distressed to learn that everyone was using an INSECURE version of the software! no one was patching their shit!! i yelled at the admins about it, and they were like "well we haven't been hacked yet so it's not a problem," so i uh, decided to demonstrate a proof of concept? i downloaded some sketchy perl script, kicked it until it worked, logged in as the admins, and shitposted a bit before i logged out, y'know, to prove my point.

(they responded by banning me for two weeks, and did not patch their software. which, y'know, rip to them; they got hacked by an unrelated Turkish group two months later, and those dudes just straight-up deleted the whole website. i was a merciful god by comparison!)

anyway, even though downloading a perl script and just pointing it at a website isn't really "hacking" (it's the literal definition of script kiddie, heh)—the point is i was just experimenting a lot and trying a lot of stuff, which meant i was getting comfortable with thinking of software as not just some immutable relic, but something you can touch and prod in unexpected ways.

this dovetails into the next thing, which is like, just learn a lot of stuff. a boring conventional computer science degree will teach you a lot (provided you take it seriously and actually try to learn shit); alternatively, just taking the same classes as a boring conventional computer science degree, via edX or whatever free online thingy, will also teach you a lot. ("contributing to open source" also teaches you a lot but... hngh... is a whole can of worms; send a follow-up ask if you want that rant.)

here's where i should note that "hacking" is an impossibly broad category: the kind of person who knows how to fuck with website authentication tokens is very different than someone who writes a fuzzer, who is often quite different than someone who looks at the bug a fuzzer produces and actually writes a program that can exploit that bug... so what you focus on depends on what you're interested in. i imagine classes with names like "compilers," "operating systems," and "networking" will teach you a lot. but, like, idk, all knowledge is god-breathed and good for teaching. hell, i hear some universities these days have actual computer security classes? that's probably a good thing to look at, just to get a sense of what's out there, if you already know how to program.

also be comfortable with not knowing everything, but also, learn as you go. the bulk of my security knowledge came when i got kinda airdropped into a work team that basically hired me entirely on "potential" (lmao), and uh, prior to joining i only had the faintest idea what a hypervisor was? or the whole protection ring concept? or ioctls or sandboxing or threat models or, fuck, anything? i mostly just pestered people with like 800 questions and slowly built up a knowledge base, and remember being surprised & delighted when i went to a security conference a year later and could follow most of the talks, and when i wound up at a bar with a guy on the xbox security team and we compared our security models a bunch, and so on. there wasn't a magic moment when i "got it", i was just like, "okay huh this dude says he found a ring-0 exploit... what does that mean... okay i think i got that... why is that a big deal though... better ask somebody.." (also: reading an occasional dead tree book is a good idea. i owe my firstborn to Robert Love's Linux Kernel Development, as outdated as it is, and also O'Reilly's kookaburra book gave me a great overview of web programming back in the day, etc. you can learn a lot by just clicking around random blogs, but you’ll often end up with a lot of random little facts and no good mental scaffolding for holding it together; often, a decent book will give you that scaffolding.)

(also, it's pretty useful if you can find a knowledgable someone to pepper with random questions as you go. finding someone who will actively mentor you is tricky, but most working computery folks are happy to tell you things like "what you're doing is actually impossible, here's why," or "here's a tutorial someone told me was good for learning how to write a linux kernel module," or "here's my vague understanding of this concept you know nothing about," or "here's how you automate something to click on a link on a webpage," which tends to be handier than just google on its own.)

if you're reading this and you're like "ok cool but where's the part where i'm handed a computer and i gotta break in while going all hacker typer”—that's not the bulk of the work, alas! like, for sure, we do have fun pranking each other by trying dumb ways of stealing each other's passwords or whatever (once i stuck a keylogger in a dude's keyboard, fun times). but a lot of my security jobs have involved stuff like, "stare at this disassembly a long fuckin' time to figure out how the program pointer got all fucked up," or, "write a fuzzer that feeds a lot of randomized input to some C++ program, watch the program crash because C++ is a horrible language for writing software, go fix all the bugs," or "think Really Hard TM about all the settings and doohickeys this OS/GPU/whatever has, think about all the awful things someone could do with it, threat model and sandbox accordingly." occasionally i have done cool proof-of-concept hacks but honestly writing exploits can kinda be tedious, lol, so like, i'm only doing that if it's the only way i can get people to believe that Yes This Is Actually A Problem, Fix Your Code

"lua that's cool and all but i wanted, like, actual links and recommendations and stuff" okay, fair. here's some ideas:

microcorruption: very fun embedded security CTF; teaches you everything you need to know as you're doing it.

cryptopals crypto challenges: very fun little programming exercises that teach you a lot of fundamental cryptography concepts as you're going along! you can do these even as a bit of a n00b; i did them in Python for the lulz

the binary bomb lab is hilariously copied by, like, so many CS programs, lol, but for good reason. it's accessible and fun and is the first time most people get to feel like a real hacker! (requires you know a bit of C beforehand)

ctftime is a good way to see when new CTFs ("capture the flag"s; security-focused competitions) are coming up. or, sometimes CTFs post their source code, so you can continue trying them after the CTF is over. i liked Stripe's CTFs when they were going, because they focused on "web stuff", and "web stuff" was all i really knew at the time. if you're more interested in staring at disassembly, there's CTFs focused on that sort of thing too.

azeria has good ARM assembly & exploitation tutorials

also, like, lots of good talks out there; just watching defcon/cansecwest/etc talks until something piques your interest is very fun. i'd die on a battlefield for any of Christopher Domas's talks, but he assumes a lot of specific x86/OS knowledge, lol, so maybe don’t start with that. oh, Julia Evans's blog is honestly probably pretty good for just learning a lot of stuff and really beginner-friendly?

oh and wrt legality... idk, i haven't addressed it here since it hasn't come up in my own work much, tbh. if you're just getting started you're kind of unlikely to Break The Law without, y'know, realizing maybe you're doing something a bit gray-area? and you can cross that bridge when you come to it? Real Hacking TM is way more of a pain-in-the-ass than doing CTFs and such, and you'll learn way more with the latter, so who cares lol just do the fun thing

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roxa-sos · 4 years

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princess - jj maybank

jj maybank x kook!reader

tw; verbal and physical abuse. bad dads >:(. sexual assault. drugs. rafe cameron lmao.

request; “Hey can you do a request where jj works for y/n’s kook family and one day he eves drops on how her dad is forcing her to date rafe for business. All rafe wants is sex and drugs and y/n doesn’t want any part of it. But her father yells and almost hits her. On her way out of the house to ask rafe to date she sees jj moving the lawn. They both kinda have a thing for eachother, they flirt. Jj asks what’s wrong and she vents about rafe and her uptight life. He invites her to join the pogues“

a/n -- this is my first non-anon lengthy request so i’m pouring my heart and soul into this :’) also this hits kind of close to home bc i have a shitty dad, so i’m basing y/n’s shitty kook dad off of my own shitty rich dad... enjoy :)

“morning, daddy.” you saw your dad standing next to the dining room table as you looked through the kitchen, trying to find something to eat. such a bougie lifestyle, yet you never really fit in.

that morning, you’d woken up to the noise of the kid that always mowed your lawn. god, he was loud, but he was good company when you shouted at him from your second story window. he was one of those kids your dad told you to stay away from. lowlives, whatever he felt like calling them. you could still hear the hum of the motor through the open windows as your dad started talking.

“good morning, baby.” he greeted you with about as much emotion as you gave him, setting his phone down on the table. “you know the camerons. yacht club friends, ward and i go for cigars and golf every few weekends?” your dad spoke about them as if they were rather obscure, but ward cameron owned the outer banks, so obviously you’d know the family whether you knew them personally or not.

you knew sarah cameron through school anyways. she was the kook queen. actually, you were both like kook royalty. your dad was loaded, her dad was loaded, therefore you had to get along with the camerons no matter what you wanted.

“yeah.” you didn’t feel like your dad deserved too much of an answer from you. you didn’t know where this was going, anyways. it always seemed like he wanted something from you, like that since you were his kid, you owed him something.

“and rafe, rafe cameron’s a good kid. nice and proper. he’s growing into good money. honest guy. your age.”

your dad even sounded slimy.

everything he said was wrong. rafe cameron was... chaos. rich, unchecked, powerful chaos. rafe cameron was mean and reckless.

but the change in your dad’s tone caught your attention. it made you turn to fully face him, abandoning the cereal that sat in the dumb plastic container that sat on the counter.

he wanted something from you. your dad was always convincing people - selling an idea to them before he’d even made an offer. that was the kind of guy he was. he was disgusting. and he was already asking you to do disgusting things.

“sure.” you didn’t feel like arguing with him either, though you could tell he was getting fed up with your improper responses. “do you want something from me?” you asked, leaning your hand on the counter. you and your dad had been on a good streak lately, no matter what you thought of him. you gave him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he was trying to be nice... or something. but you had to be straightforward to get anything from him.

“alright, let’s get down to it, then,” your dad chuckled, putting up his hands defensively as he crossed the kitchen to stand next to you. he sounded like he was socializing with one of his friends. “it’d be good for... the family, it’d be good if you and rafe got together. dated. good for us, the camerons, good for the outer banks.” he spoke with his hands, making broad gestures.

he could tell you didn’t like the idea as soon as your expression changed.

“hard pass, sorry daddy.” you laughed like he’d been joking himself. his expression changed to something darker, like he was frustrated.

“sorry, you must’ve misinterpreted me or something, y/n. you’re smarter than that. i’m not proposing this, i’m telling you to do this. you don’t know what’s good for you yet, you’ll understand.” he put his hands down like he’d just finished the conversation. he’d made the decision for you, he was done talking about it. but you weren’t.

“dad, he’s a sex obsessed drug addict who feels my friends and i up at parties topper holds. i’m not dating him.” you weren’t getting aggressive, but you weren’t about to drop this and give in to your dad’s wishes.

“shut - would you just shut up, y/n? he’s a respectable boy who you’d be lucky to have.” your dad made his argument again, raising his voice. he looked you up and down like you were something he was selling, but something he was disappointed in. your jean shorts and tube top obviously disappointed him, but that was your goal with the outfit anyway. pissing off your dad in a nonchalant way that he wouldn’t bring up unless you made him mad some other way.

“no? i won’t shut up, he’s-” you didn’t get a chance to finish before he started yelling.

“y/n, i’m not dealing with this disrespect right now. you’re being a crybaby, you’re going to go over to the cameron’s and you’re going to ask him to take you to the yacht club later. i’ve made myself clear.” his voice was booming and terrifying, and the only thing you could focus on.

“i’m not doing that, dad-” he never let you finish when you argued. you took a step towards him as he began to back away from you, not wanting that to be the end of the argument, but he grabbed your wrist and raised his free hand in a threatening manner.

“don’t make me do this, baby. i won’t forgive myself.” he didn’t sound like he would regret it, but you flinched. you were scared, like you always were.

you stayed quiet, and after a few seconds, he lowered his hand and let go of his death grip on your hand. “good.” he muttered, leaving the kitchen.

you felt like a coward, but you’d saved yourself from a black eye.

yet, you possibly signed up for many future injuries by obeying your father.

you figured you just needed to get it over with. abandoning whatever breakfast you’d planned on having, you headed to the foyer to put on your shoes and leave. knowing rafe cameron, he probably wasn’t even out of bed yet. you’d unfortunately catch him or one of his friends before you even left the neighborhood.

this couldn’t be that bad. it was... for the family.

you slid your feet into some sandals, and you couldn’t help but think about what you were heading towards. drugs. long nights. bruises. y/n cameron. your own father was having you do this, almost on free will.

opening the door, you looked across the lawn to the source of a noise you’d blocked out. you’d forgotten that one of the pogues was mowing your damn lawn.

he was blond. wearing some dumb surfer-dude snapback and cargo shorts. it looked like his shirt was tucked into his back pocket, and he was glistening with sweat. the lawnmower stopped humming when he saw you, and he raised his hand to wave.

you figured it couldn’t hurt to talk to him. just to delay the inevitable.

a few strides across the lawn and you were in front of him, and it looked like he had a dumb smile on his face.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he asked, leaning his forearms on the lawnmower. he used the name jokingly, and he’d been doing so ever since you met. he compared you to a princess locked in a tower - rapunzel. it was cheesy, but it didn’t take you long to realize that he wasn’t really wrong. “trouble in paradise?”

you scoffed, but a smile stayed on your face. this was dumb, he was dumb. but he was nice to talk to.

“rafe cameron is what’s wrong” you laughed, hearing his name come out of your own mouth stung.

jj grimaced, shaking his head. “ouch. rich boy causing problems? that’s news to me.”

“nice joke. funny.” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. he only knew the half of it. “no, actually, i’m on my way to ask him to... date, i guess. long term stuff. for the family, or whatever my dad was talking about.” you rambled a bit, half talking to yourself.

jj almost looked concerned, the smile barely fading from his face. you didn’t want to confide in him, but he seemed to welcome it.

“and, and i don’t want to,” you continued, shaking your head, “my dad’s just... he’s a scary guy. you know? i’ve been dealing with him for forever, but he’s just... terrifying when you don’t do what he wants you to. that’s why i live such a comfortable life, though, right? i should be thankful.” you laughed in a bittersweet manner, gesturing to your obnoxious house.

“that’s how things work around here, princess.” jj laughed, watching you look at the world the way he did.

“well, yeah. yeah, i know, but he’s making me go and... get with rafe cameron. rafe. cameron. rafe fucking cameron! isn’t that insane? and when i said no, he got all loud and he grabbed me and i almost made him hit me.” you unintentionally put the blame on yourself, rubbing your sore wrist.

jj’s eyebrows furrowed when you mentioned your dad getting a little physically violent with you.

“that’s... not cool.” he didn’t know what to say. he was nowhere near letting you in on some of the more personal parts of his life, but... he could... relate.

“no, no it’s not.” you agreed, taking a deep breath. god, you were almost crying. you didn’t even know when the tears had started threatening to come out. “it’s just... i’ve done everything. i’m, like, the perfect kook girl. i do everything he says. i’m nice to my mom. i take care of his stuff. i run with his people. you’d think he’d let me have a say in something like this.”

jj stayed quiet again, biting his lip.

“but no, no, i’m dumb for thinking like that. freedom is a privilege i don’t have. i’m a rich girl in a cage.” you nodded, laughing a little more. you sounded so sad - like, you didn’t know why you were complaining.

“you should meet my friends.” jj suggested, shrugging like it was a random idea he threw out there. “we aren’t into drugs. well, okay, that’s a lie, our livers are all probably shot and i’m a pothead, but we’re nice.” he joked, rambling a little himself.

he couldn’t save you, but he could sure as hell make things a little better.

“boat rides. fishing. the marsh. not a yacht and definitely not a yacht club, but i like to think we’re a little cooler.” jj kept going, waiting for your answer.

“yeah. sure, why not?” you didn’t have to be the perfect daughter. especially when you were being treated like shit by the people you gave everything to.

you could... probably take a few beatings. it was worth a good time, though.

“good to know. we’ll swing by tomorrow morning, unless you want to get out of here asap?” he suggested, looking at the rest of the lawn he had to mow. he’d be screwed if he didn’t wrap it up, but he seemed to think he had his priorities in order.

“as soon as possible, please.” you admitted, watching him push the lawn mower next to your house, just out of view.

“alright, princess. let’s get you out of here.”

a/n -- psa i love jj. in case u didn’t already know. send me more requests :’)

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agoddamn · 3 years

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Oh, hey, clone trooper numbers. I've heard there's wank about this so let's keep track.

Halleburton: "I propose the Republic purchase an additional five million clone troopers."

No indication of what the current numbers are but Bail at least doesn't say "are you fucking insane", so it's probably not ten times the current amount

I thought this Rodian was dead? Is this a timeline thing? I guess so

This assistant's name (Teckla) doesn't rhyme with Padme's :0 disloyal??

>"We cannot afford ammunition" ok so ammo exists

Again, it feels so weird that the politicians are bleating about how awful the war is when we've been seeing the clones on the front lines experiencing basically a light-hearted action show.

Like...we COULD be having direct, visible consequences showing how bad the war is when we see the soldiers, but instead the soldiers are cannon fodder to enable cool Jedi flips and the comfy politicians are the ones going 'oh nooo so many people are suffering in war :(' c'mon, mate, figure out what you want to say about war already

For real, even this episode about politics shoves Padme into fisticuffs because Guns Are Cool, fuckin' pick one

Droid cops once again

Padme inventing the revolutionary strategy of "what if you talked to literally one poor person", which apparently nobody else in the galaxy has tried before. You see what I mean when I complain about fake conflict? Sometimes the politics are more rounded, but then there's cases like this of "everyone else is just fucking stupid". Padme's victory doesn't feel all that earned when it's a case of everyone else being a Scooby Doo villain.

Security with the sperm-helmets standard to the Rebellion. Alderaanian design?

THAT ENTIRE HAIRPIECE IS A HELMET?! DEEPEST FUCKING PLOT TWIST

This solar sail design of Asajj's ship originated from the Tartakovsky Clone Wars, as far as I know

Oh, sick, they finally went back to the Tartakovsky-style hakama outfit for Ventress as well. Really does look so much goddamn cooler

These official subs spell Tyranus with one 'n', but I was under the impression it was Tyrannus?

--aaand by the time Ventress is solo they managed to have her ditch the cloth again. Disappointed but not surprised

All these bitches cosplaying Psylocke

[I could not remember Psylocke's name]

[ah yes, thank you]

[if you're not here from comics she's a white British lady who ends up taking the body of a Japanese woman, yes, I KNOW]

....................at the risk of being Comic Book Guy how did Asajj get a kyber crystal to build her own saber if they were stuck on one planet

Oh yes, this plan is INCREDIBLE. Sneak up on him and poison him so you can safely sneak up on him. I can't see this possibly failing

...how come all these women have normal heads but Talzin is a conehead

I guess this lady is the primary customer for that lightsaber black market

DOOKU HAS A YAOI BED

I am truly fucking losing it, what is the purpose of this massive bed

He's got monogrammed jammies, god (but no blanket, because, again, cloth instantly kills the TCW engine)

He's...really dumb enough to mistake them for Jedi? Really?

Talzin addresses the women as sister, but they call her mother

>Dooku sources his assassins from small, women-led organic Dathomir farms

#boots watches tcw

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doodles-arts · 4 years

Text

Request: turtles reacting to crush

pairing?: All 2003 turtles x reader

Rating?: Pg

Warings?: loads of fluff

Request: 2003 turtles reaction to their crush, the turtles did the sweetest thing ever for them, talking loads of nice stuff about their crush, protecting crush or showing their nice/happy sides and crush waits until they are alone and crush says, crush has been good friends with the individual turtle, so they’ve never spoken like this before, “You know you’re really beautiful”?

Summary: The boys all react a little differently to a super hawt crush! some boast, others turn hate into love

A/N: I did get carried away with my baby Donnie a little, if your interested in a one shot of a biker reader with a sarcastic Donnie, please reblog! I’d love to write it, but am working on other things for you guys, so if you’d like it let me know to make some time! @donatello-writes thought you might like the donatello part. Give it a heart if it were any good and read this lil note, love your work!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leonardo:

Met you because you were being jumped.

Classic hero saving damsel in distress

Doesn’t trust you at first for the sake of his family

But he grows on you

2 sizes...

You're absolutely the sweetest!

You bake him things for free as a thank you for saving your life

He can’t help but eAT it AlL

Master splinter actually makes him run laps around the sewers because of how lagged he is.

He asks Donnie for a diet plan and is h e a r t b r o k e n when he’s told NO SUGARS

You make him keto and protein cookies for his weekly cheat meal

You apologized when you were told he couldn’t eat anymore because he had gotten bigger.

The boys tease him about his weight when you're around.

Even after he lost all the extra weight.

His calm demeanor eases all your anxieties

He loves the way you're just so kind to all his brothers and everyone you meet.

One day when you were baking a cake for Mikeys birthday and all other kinds of party favors for all the boys, Leonardo kept you company. You both talked and about things you were planning, you both were very close. And Leo was very obsessed with you and your baking apron. He probably followed your back end with googly eyes all afternoon.

You didn’t mind having him keep your company and hand you any ingredients you needed but you couldn’t help but notice how much more his muscles were showing off. He was RIPPED. You blushed and looked away when he caught your wandering eyes. He didn’t seem to mind, keeping the conversation going about your next hangout. He watched you with adoration and when you couldn’t reach for something on a high shelf he chuckled and offered to get it for you. You didn’t want to seem helpless but he was willing.

“That would be great actually!” You smiled and stepped back, “coming to my rescue as per usual~”, he blushed but you couldn’t see it as he reached up to grab the barely used baking soda. As he stretched, time slowed. His usual strap that held his katana was resting as you both cooked. Without it, it brought much more focus on the flesh on his side that wasn’t covered by his plastron or shell. It was insane how his muscles on his sides stretched and rolled. You could have drooled right there. But there was more to your private show, the little potbelly he used to harbor thanks to your baking, was long gone! His arms were round and plump. The muscles warned anyone who tried to mess with the leader. A clear reminder that you were in love with a god. A GOD. He was magnificent, his body chiseled from stone by Donatello or Michelangelo, the sculptors. You sucked in a breath, trying to make the second longer, but all good things come with an end…

You couldn’t help how your cheeks flushed as your thoughts wandered and traveled. As did your eyes, embarrassing yourself even more as he turned sharply, his glutes flexing as he took a step forward, you just couldn’t believe it-

“-You know you’re beautiful, right?” Leonardo almost dropped the bottle of baking soda that slipped from his three-fingered hands when you had commented on this. Quickly catching it and trying to grab his cool back from slipping in between his fingers as well. You giggled, laughing at your own embarrassment to lessen it. You might have been a bit flustered, but you meant it. “Uh.. thanks?” Still flustered and taken aback, Leo handed you the bottle and sat back down.

The air was thick with an awkward feeling, it might have been you, but you did mean it, you could have meant it platonically or romantically, so you weren’t that worried if he didn’t feel that way. He was clearly the source of the feeling. Refusing to talk afterward. Growing with anticipation, you put too much baking soda in the bowl and groaned in annoyance, scooping the part of the batch that had too much and throwing it out. After it was fixed you took a spoonful and handed it to Leo, “I’m sorry if I said anything out of line, peace offering?”

You had been making an eggless cookie dough batch so that you could give Mikey some cookie dough to eat without getting sick. And as Leo looked at you with that tiny sweet smile, he knew he was cracking. He wasn’t offended, not at all! He was flattered! Honored! But how could he reveal his true feelings if you might not feel the same? He took the spoon with a smile, “accepted!”

When he was finished with the spoon and set it down, you jumped into his arms for a hug, “good! Now stop being so quiet! You're my favorite person, so be my taste tester!” He felt his control falling and before you could pull away he hugged you tighter, you giggled and hugged back. But it was when he wouldn’t let go that you felt something was off. And there was, Leo was freaking out about how to approach you about this. “I’m sorry, but let’s stay like this, I have something to tell you”, he whispered into your ear huskily. You couldn’t help the goosebumps on your arm that stood when his warm breath hit the side of your neck.

“Okay-yeah, okay”, you replied shakily, you weren’t scared, not in the slightest, you could feel a spring in the bottom of your stomach start to tighten. His close proximity had your head swimming. You breathed in his scent and swooned inwardly to the smell of metal oil, peppermint body wash, and the scent of his natural skin.

“I… I know how strange it might seem, but I like ya’. Something about you has me pulling towards you. You always make me happier. I don’t know how else to tell ya, but I want-” before he could answer, your breathless voice did,

“Yes, I like you too, silly.” He hugged you closer as he silently fist pumped the air behind you, “shell yes!”

“I can feel that Leo” You giggled.

Donatello:

Your Casey’s sister

He hates you once he gets to know you

Your blunt, straightforward and RUDE

You’re really smart tho

And slim thicc…

Every time you come he leaves to his lab

He can’t stand you Casey, and Raph roughhousing

He can’t stand watching you on some days either tho…

He hates the way you make him feel

He’ll never admit it but he’s in la-la-la-la-loveeee

The way your arms are beefed up

You’re not picky

You don’t complain

You confront him once, asking, ”what’s your problem!” and he lashes out that your blunt, straight forward and provocative

He didn’t mean that last part

You bluntly tell him you don’t care about what he thinks, you never did anything directly to him for him to always give you attitude

You ask for a truce, instead of being problematic and resorting to violence

From that moment Donnie feels different about you

guess you weren’t so problematic and dumb as he thought

You agreed to help out with his experiments as a peace offering. They’re boring and you hate them but you try for Donnie. Lately, he has been asking many experiments from you, asking to help him with tools and taking notes. He said your handwriting was ‘prettier, surprisingly’. You told him his face was surprising. You both threw jabs at each other constantly. But you grew to like it, he was quick on his feet and always knew what to say back or when to stop. Most people were too sissy to take your comebacks or too sensitive to throw jabs. As you got to know Donnie you noticed how much fun he actually could be. You certainly didn’t have to prove your strength around him or get bruises by the end of the day. With him, it was playful and calm, sure you still liked a bit of wrestling here or there, it had been hotwired into your system by then.

Donnie respected that and you respected that he didn't enjoy the roughhousing around his equipment or in his lab. The mutual respect was a different tune than the constant hating glares you'd send each other. As you sat on the table next to the bike he was fixing up you were humming a tune to yourself, waiting for Donatello to ask for another tool. It kinda reminded you about your dad…

You blew a raspberry and laid you back on the clear table, “I’m bored”, you huffed out. You were tired of just sitting around, looking at the wall, “Well, lucky you, I just finished” he responded dryly. You rolled your eyes and hopped off the table to help him off his shell, “for the tallest slimmest turtle of the bunch, you sure are heavy.” you snickered as he faked a laugh and rolled the bike through the back entrance. “Yea, now shut up and follow me.”

You huffed and walked alongside him, “Soooo, who’s the bike for. Do I get to ride it first? Only fair since I helped!” You mused, trying to convince him to let you ride the bike. You used to own a bike, and you loved that thing to death since it was the one your dad had made for you until Casey broke it.

~~~

You were furious, it was the last thing you had of your dads, and he totally wrecked it during the night with Raph. You tried your hardest to fix it, but you didn’t have the cash for the spare parts, so you ended up scrapping the beat-up engine and the seat, hoping to still find the memory of your dad in them. You kept it in your room. Inside your closet.

After that, it took Casey months to get back on your good side, you only held out that long because he refused to tell you how he broke it. After another month of torture and burnt eggs in the morning, Casey begged the turtles to tell you the truth. And he did, promising to explain what happened to the bike, but he had to show you something first. And that’s how you met the turtles and Donnie’s stuffy ass.

~~~

“It’s yours. So you can ride it wherever you want, genius.” Donnie had to look away, feeling flustered that he was doing this. But you stopped dead in your tracks. When Donnie noticed that you had stopped, and turned to look at you. You had this dumb look on your face as you starred at the bike. Taking small steps towards the seat and opening it, “what’s wrong with you?” He asked, hoping for you to say something back. Kinda creeped out by your silence and wide eyes. As you lifted the seat, ignoring his remark and noticed the little engraved signature of you and your dad. Your heart broke into tiny pieces and fell in the pit of your stomach, you fell to your knees, feeling yourself shaking. Looking at the familiar engine.

“Where did you get this-” he felt a little nervous at the tone of your voice. Deeply unwavering, you sounded half dead. Pissed.

“I thought you’d-”

“WHERE!” He gulped, you hadn’t even looked at him. He walked around the bike to your side, “I’m sorry, but I and Casey took the liberty to rebuild a junk bike with your seat, I fixed the engine and put it in too. If I knew it would bother you so much, I wouldn’t have invaded your privacy.” He still felt your cold demeanor and didn’t dare touch you. Your silence only fueled his anxiousness. Your shoulders were slumped and you tried your best not to break, but the pieces were all falling down. Remembering the night as a little girl that you both worked on the bike and engraved your names on the underside of the seat and rode it for a test drive.

The tears flowed down your cheeks before you could stop them, it was unusual for you to cry, but your bike. His bike, our bike. It was back and fixed, you had something to feel like he was still there, waiting for you to come home after riding. Donnie’s warmth was wafting towards you and you gave him a tight hug. He still stayed after you yelled and didn’t make fun of you when you cry. he really was sweet... huh.

“Thank you, Donnie. I never knew you were so soft.” You pulled away and gave him a soft punch on the arm. He chuckled, trying not to stare at your tear-stained face, it was strange to see you that way. “Nothing wrong with being a little soft, now get outta here and tell me how well the bike does,” he smiled.

You smirked, rising and pulling the turtle behind you, swinging a leg over the bike like second nature. Pulling him on too, “you’re coming with, nerd. We’re gonna have the ride of our lives.” You rev the bike and speed out the sewers, and he yelps. He quickly holds on to your waist for dear life as you ride about the sewer. A raise in the concrete sends you in the air a few feet and you laugh as you feel him hold on tighter, the drop back down sending your sunglasses down, covering your eyes from the wind as you drive faster. His buff arms were warm on your waist. They felt good, and it almost distracted you while you were driving, what would it be like to have them wrapped around you on different circumstances?

You made swift and tight turns that made it feel like your bike would fall on its side. But you were a better driver than Casey could ever dream to be! Donnie was in good hands. As you drove back to the lair, your hair wind-whipped, and all over the place, Donnie couldn’t help but feel both scared out of his mind and adrenaline rush!

As you both hopped off you smiled at the slacked jaw turtle, “she rides good, I’ll probably change her tires though. Maybe loosening the steering gear, makes the tight turns feel less death-defying.” You refered to the bike and giggled as you helped him off, having a new feeling of adoration for Don, even with that dumb look on his face. After he wiped the surprise of his face and laughed you noticed something about Donnie, he had a tendency to stare. That much you already knew, but with you, it was like he couldn’t look away or keep staring all at the same time.

‘Hmm… Oh.. OHHH… How could I have never noticed before?’ You smiled at him and grabbed him by the sides of the plastron and forced him to look at you. “He-Hey, what’s the big idea!” You kept smirking, watching his cues, of getting angry, huffing, and pushing you off as he did with his brothers. It never came. That’s all you needed to know, you tapped him softly on the snout and smirked. “Nothing, I’ll come back for my baby tomorrow, you just make sure to be in disguise, we're going for a joy ride tomorrow night.” Waving goodbye as you walked out you felt proud. You were gonna put this boy through a ride, “By the way, Don, your really cute, ya’ know that?” His jaw slacked as you walked out, he never thought you’d ever say that to him.

He kinda liked it tho...

Raphael:

Met you through April

Is infatuated with you from the startttt

You are a gymnast

100% a smart ass

100% has a great ass

Casey asks, “can I ask a stupid question?” and you’d respond before you can keep quiet, “better than anyone here”

He finds your flexibility hawt

The boys hate how much he tries to show off when your around

You don’t notice, you think it’s just Raph being Raph

He’s ALWAYS inviting you to workout

LEG DAY every day

You like working on them and Raph doesn’t mind teaching you

You put his flexibility to the test every time

You tried to get along with him

The boys are shook to how well behaved he is with you

April notices how well you take his flirting, if you even notice it

You like how dorky Raph is when you’re alone

That’s when you start having feelings for him

Your gymnasium was closed by the company it was under and you had nowhere to practice

You confessed this to Raph and he noticed you were sad about it

He finished hanging up the last high bar. He knew you were missing the gym you used to practice in. He hoped his brothers wouldn’t notice how much effort it really took him to put it all up, so they wouldn’t accuse him of going soft. He wasn’t going soft, he was just trying to impress you is all. There was no shame in that, right? You were cool and sexy, you didn’t even have to try to look beautiful, you just were. Something April and Raph agreed on multiple occasions.

As you walked into the sewers with a pair of leggings and a form-fitting sweater. Perfect. You walked over to hug your friend and held on tightly to his warm, and he was glad to return it. He led you deeper into the lair and showed you, “well, I know that you miss your old gym, and you can’t find any good ones around here. So I thought you could kick it here until then!”

He pointed towards the hanging bars and gym mats on a far corner of the lair. An old mirror hung a few inches off the ground. You could tell he did his best with what he had. He had even taken the liberty to make a walking bar, the current thing you were struggling on. He listened. He cared. You walked closer to the corner that held the mini gymnasium he had created for you. No one had ever done anything like this for you, how was it possible… that you hadn’t seen it before?

“Oh, Raph… I’m at a loss of words. I can’t believe it!” You basically jumped in his arms when you had turned around. You were unusually giddy at the moment and decided to use it to your advantage. Hugging him tightly, knocking the wind out of him, pulling back in a flash and zooming back in.

…

His eyes were wide open as your cute face and scrunched up nose, and kissed him! He couldn’t believe it! You were kissing him right now! On the exact second that he started kissing back, you pulled away bashfully. Smiling and looking back towards your own personal little gymnasium, “thanks again, Raph.”

He nodded and replied, sorta out of it, “yeah, that was one hell of a thank you for a weird looking fella like me-”

You whipped and around and gasped offendedly, “-don’t you say that Raph, you know you’re beautiful, right?” the last part of the question was asked softly. He shrugged and you laid a hand on his cheek to force him to look at you. “You are Raph, I like you, I have for some time now, don’t turn me away, please.” He looked back up at you incredibly and starred as you smiled at his wild look.

“Alright, I won’t, on one condition. I get another kiss?”, pulling him closer with a hand on his cheek, you pulled him in for another kiss. One that he was actually prepared for, this time.

Michelangelo:

You meet him at a skatepark

He thinks your hawt in biker shorts and retro t-shirts

He obsessed with showing off his moves, just like his older brother

He has a different approach tho

You end up impressing him more tho

He makes jokes and invites you to skating contests

You win a few, but it’s obvious that he knew a lot too

You actually enjoy his company

You find it strange you only see each other at night

You don’t mind it tho because you own a skate-shop

You too love having late-night snacks

He never sits too close to you

The first time he’s afraid of taking a chance at you being afraid of how he looks

You guys take turns bringing snacks

You always buy pizza

You know there’s something weird about his body, but you don’t judge because he’s the absolute sweetest

*SmaCK* Your falling for him

One day, Mikey can’t help but want to be closer, so he has to take that chance

“Awesome, Mikey! Check this out!” You rode towards a staircase hand bar, sliding down and as you jumped off, you flipped your board, landing perfectly on the ground and riding your way back over to him. As you stomped your board back up it snapped. Mikey gasped in pity, “oh no dudette, I’m so sorry.” You shrugged and smiled, “It was a prototype anyway, I’ve got more in my shop.”

You walked towards your beat-up car as you felt Mikey’s face drop, “wicked cool! You make boards?” You chuckled as you turned around and pointed to his board, “you do too, honey.” There was that nickname that drove Mikey through the moon, had him sighing like a lovesick puppy. He followed you to the car with goo-goo eyes.

“Wanna come see my shop?” He practically jumped in excitement, “Would I!” He hopped into the car without a second thought, too sweet to take into consideration that you could see his green skin in the closer proximity. The hunch under his trench coat, the strange shape of his feet, or that his chest and stomach were irregularly flat for a guy with such buffed up arms. As you drove, you turned on the music to make up for the lack of conversation. Not trying to seem awkward, just trying to wrap your head around the fact that Mikey wasn’t human.

He never hurt you before, or ever overstepped his boundaries, he wasn’t a creep, he was funny and cared about you. He cherished the time you spent together, he sent a text every night you were together when you got home to ensure you were safe. It was safe to say that you felt something for Michelangelo but was afraid to fall for a stranger. But was he really a stranger? It wasn’t like you met him yesterday! You had been hanging out for a few months.

You had nothing to fear and so when you walked out of the car you confidently invited him and turned the lights to let him gawk at your boards. “I custom make them, all ya gotta do is put in an order, I fix ‘em up too.” You leaned over your cashier post, admiring the obvious turtle in the light of your store. He was a big sweetheart, he’d never hurt you!

“Dollface, this is amazing! I didn’t know you could make surfboards, and the designs on them are wicked cool!” You agreed, very proud of your work as you walked over. Pressing a hand to his arm, “wanna make one together?” He nodded rapidly like a kid high off of candy. And you knew that his heart was too pure for this world, you laughed and pointed at his jacket.

“Maybe you should take this off and get comfortable!” For a split second, he almost agreed and shed off the oversized coat, but he didn’t want to lose you. You were so cool… “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, dollface.” You rolled your eyes and blew a raspberry, which surprised him. “Mikey, I don’t care what you look like, not like I couldn’t tell under the store lights anyway! You’re beautiful to me, you should know that!” You placed your hand on his chest pushing the coat off his shoulders softly with a smile.

Stunned but flattered he allowed it and leaned forward, feeling a moment creeping on, the coat fell on the floor. A few inches from your face and he was already closing his eyes and puckering out his lips at you, You felt the same energy, but…

You placed a finger on his lips, “You didn’t think it was going to be that easy did you?” He shrugged and grinned, “a guy’s gotta try don’t cha’ think?” You giggled and pecked his cheek. Leading him to the backroom to work on the new board together. Mikey wasn’t going to let you focus too much for too long though. He would get that kiss!

~~~~~~~~~

remember! if you really enjoed the donatello scenario, reblog for a oneshot!

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busghost · 4 years

Note

What are your thoughts / theories on dark Fu Hua?

okay so since that whole cg is for the end of chapter 20, which nobody has access to I’ll just put a

general spoiler warning ch20 content

Of course this is only speculation and my thoughts/opinions but if people want to go in blind there’s the spoiler warning. So now that nobody can complain that I didn’t warn them about spoilers.

I love this development, it hurts my heart but so does everything mihoyo does with hi3. I don’t think anybody saw this coming when they showed that ch20 would be related to Fu Hua in some way, I just thought they were gonna try to find a way to bring her back. This is also great cause we’ve always heard it hinted at the Fu Hua is incomprehensibly powerful but never shown it and this is a great opportunity for a demonstration.

Anywho, let’s get to the stuff involving the cg. First it would probably be best to explain the two Divine Keys she wields.

The Eighth Divine Key: Fenghuang Down

This one is weird. It basically let’s Fu Hua get into peoples’ minds and do whatever she wants. Whenever she uses it it appears as a glowing feather. She used it to defeat the entire army of Schicksal (including Kallen Kaslana) by herself in 1475. She used it to trick a pseudo-Herrscher into thinking she had been killed making her go brain-dead. She even used it on Sirin herself during the 2nd Honkai War in 2000 and the only reason Sirin came back from that was a literal Deus Ex Machina cause God saved her. And then Sirin actually stole a little bit of power from the 8th Divine Key which is how the HotV tricked Kiana into thinking she saved her parents in chapters 5 and 6. BUT, Fu Hua is also seen using Fenghuang Down to power herself up. For example in the Moon Shadow Manga, when the Welt Joyce clone has her tied up and tries assaulting her she uses Fenghuang Down and cuts out his tongue and frees herself in a split second. She also used it during the Second Honkai War at to power up an attack so strong she lost all her memories in an attempt to kill Sirin, and punched the connection to the Honkai God out of Sirin.

The 10th Divine Key: Grips of Taixuan

This one is easy. The 10th Divine Key was mass produced because there were 1,000 10th Herrschers so there were 1,000 Xuanyuan Swords. The 10th Herrscher (the Herrscher of Legion/Domination) was cool cause each body it took over had one very specific power from one of the previous 9 Herrschers. When Fu Hua became a MANTIS soldier her Xuanyuan Sword transformed into the Grips of Taixuan. She punches things with them.

These dark Fu Huas have only appeared where Fu Hua already is. What I mean by that is, Schicksal has her corpse after Otto killed her so we see Durandal fighting her at Schicksal HQ. Kevin has the Fenghuang Down copy of Fu Hua that was with Kiana and we see them fighting in what looks like the Sea of Quanta maybe? And there is another Fenghuang Down copy of Fu Hua in Bronya’s head because after story chapter 4, Bronya has the brain damage thing going on and Fu Hua used the 8th Divine Key to help put her mind and sense of self back together in the Bronya Chronicles chapter.

Worth noting is that they use red and black as her colors which get used on two other notable “dark/possessed” battlesuits. Black Nucleus Bronya is when she was under mind control from Cocolia and Blood Rose is when Himeko was possessed by Dark Xuanyuan/10th Divine Key. Fenghuang Down and the Xuanyuan Sword she’s wielding in one scene are also black and red. There is also the very first part of the CG when a very normal looking Fu Hua says “Deep in this boundless dream I gaze at my warped self”, so perhaps it isn’t even Fu Hua in control right now.

I feel fairly confident in saying that Fu Hua has not turned evil but rather has been corrupted or possessed. By who? I dunno but I can throw out some wild guesses? I don’t it’s the Honkai cause when people are corrupted by the Honkai they get those pinkish-purple markings all over their body. I don’t think this guess is anywhere near correct but maybe it’s the Herrscher of the Void, she’s had control of Fenghuang Down for some time and everything about the 8th Divine Key is just weird. To me that just sounds incredible dumb just saying it though since, how could the Herrscher of the Void come back without her Herrscher Core.

This post was longer than I intended and isn’t as organized as I woulld’ve like but I guess thoughts and opinions are rarely as organized as sourcing the manga. Thanks for reading the post, I hope you all have a wonderful day!

#fu hua #hi3 lore #honkai spoilers #hi3 #honkai impact

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years

Note

Angst 1 for Jason? I'm feeling like some sad lightning boi I dont know why but ye

Hello darling Anon! Thanks for the prompt and I hope I did you well🥺 dis is hella angsty

Jercy Masterlist

Jason Grace doesn't have enough fingers to list how many things he's done wrong in the last month.

1. Losing his best friend

2.Losing his girlfriend

3.Being unable to help all the demigod's he's promised

4.Letting Reyna down by not coming back to SPQR

5.Dammit he can't even put on his fucking shirt the right way.

Holding in a scream he tugs it off and flips it so the tag is on the inside. He's proud of himself for not ditching clothing altogether, ditching life altogether. There is so much temptation in taking to the skies and floating for the rest of his days. It's not like anyone would miss him, would even notice he was gone. And maybe it's for the best. It certainly wouldn't be unexpected. For years he's wanted to be anonymous, just another one of the Campers. For years he's secretly rejected his titles as Son of Jupiter, Praetor of New Rome, Slayer of the Black Throne. He shouldn't complain now that he's ignored, unwanted.

There's a knock at his cabin that he pulls him out of his self-deprecating pity hour. Checking to make sure he has his pants and shirt on and his head firmly on his neck he grabs his sword and opens the door.

"Jason!" Will Solace gasps, "Please come it's Nico!"

His heart turns to stone, lungs become useless masses, "Let's go." He manages to breathe, "Brief me on the way."

They sprint through the camp, uncaring of the shouts and greetings coming from every side. They don't have time. It seems ever since they had defeated Kronos the clocks spin uncontrollably; hours are seconds and minutes only exist in the afternoon and nobody knows if one week is seven days or three blinks of an eye, if years are twelve months or a century.

"A breach at the west border. Monsters we've never seen before. They just snuck up on us. Nico's been raising the dead to fight but I'm afraid he's not strong enough yet. Not after the war. He'll burn out soon and they'll overwhelm him." Will gasps.

"How many?"

"Twenty maybe twenty five?"

"You call anyone else?"

The Son of Apollo shakes his head as they sprint around the corner, "Percy is in school he only arrives tomorrow. Clarisse is gone to visit her mom and there's so many Campers in the infirmary. The rest are the little ones."

"How fa—" Jason beholds the scene in front of him and every nerve in his body shut down.

There in the middle of skeletal warriors and black shadows is Nico Di Angelo. All around them are scaly four-legged vipers hissing and spitting. One opens its grossly enormous jaw and snaps it around a skeleton with a sickening crunch. Another skeleton pops up in the exact same place and with a rattling, he supposes is a scream, attacks the monster.

"NICO!" Will screams, trying to catch his boyfriend's attention.

The Son of Hades although dangerously powerful is grey and heaving as if the sheer force of his summonings are turning his own body to it's bony structure.

"Go!" Will shouts at him.

With a nod, Jason pulls his sword out and steps into the ring of the dead.

Gods these things are a hundred times more terrifying up close. Sharp teeth and poisoned spikes on their tales and oh gods jagged claws to top it all off. But he's fought armies before and survived. This will not deter him. So with the force of Zeus and the strategies of Jupiter flowing through his muscles he brings his sword down on the first creature.

It shrieks and his ears ring like a bell clanging in his skull. But the head thumps to the ground and the monster crumbles to dust.

Decapitation then.

He sidesteps the swish of a tail, chopping it off as it goes past. First mistake. Three tails grow back and he knows one drop of poison will be enough to end him. He vaults into the air using the wind to push him as high as possible and then he's slamming in the body of the creature and sawing at its head.

His foot slams into the ground as the monster powders underneath him. Second mistake. His ankle is broken and there's three more of these things advancing towards him.

He bites down a scream as he attempts to walk. It's no use. Stand here and fight it is. Summoning as much lightning as he can, blue eyes sparking maliciously, he looks directly into the first of them and slams five thousand volts of electricity into its brain. Before he knows it's dead he's onto the next. This time he bides his time, let's it come closer and when he can hear its ugly breathing and feel its lack of heat he stabs his sword into its neck and watches it bleed black.

The third monster is clever, it's learnt. But Jason doesn't know. So he gathers all his strength and waits for it to pounce. By now Nico is a few meters away, holding his own but pale beyond healthy. The monster shakes its body, scales rippling in the afternoon sun. It takes one step closer. Jason grips his sword, holds the power thrumming in his fingers. The monster moves again and he swears its smiling.

He turns to Nico, "You good?"

Third mistake. The monster let's out a vile screech and slams into them.

"NICO!" Someone screams. It sounds like Percy Jackson. But that can't be right. Percy is in school.

The creature's tail swipes at the Son of Hades.

Jason can't move as it's claws wrap around his throat.

I can't do anything right, he thinks. Those talons pierce his skin. The world goes black.

***

"He's a fucking idiot."

"Lay off. How was he supposed to know?"

"Maybe if he wasn't so caught up in trying to make friends he would have been able to do something."

"Leave him alone."

"Alright you lot, get out of here. I'll call you when he's awake."

Jason tries to open his eyes, tries to say something, anything. But he feels a prick in his neck and reality fades away.

***

"Is he awake?"

"How long does this take?"

"He had a broken ankle and a slit throat. Maybe a little patience is in order?"

"I still think we should send him back."

"That's enough! It wasn't his fault and we will stop acting like it.".

The Son of Jupiter groans, blinking into the world. Everything hurts. Everything. And the light above his head is blinding.

"What the hell happened?" He rasps.

"You almost got Nico killed is what!" Someone snaps.

He blinks trying to find the source of such bitterness. "I what?"

"What the fuck were you trying to do saying hi in the middle of battle?"

The room finally shifts into focus and he sees three faces staring at him intently, varying degrees of anger and relief in their expressions.

"Well?" Hazel looks at him, "What were you trying to accomplish? Were you actively trying to get him killed? I know you didn't trust him but trying to kill him Jason? I thought you got passed that after Cupid. Nico told me he trusted you."

"Hazel!" Percy Jackson glares at her.

"I'm—" He chokes, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I— I didn't know the monster would try to get both of us." He's crying now, red hot tears spilling onto the white sheets of the infirmary bed.

"That's the problem Grace, you don't think." There is so much pain in her voice.

"Im sorry," He sobs, "Is he okay? Is he— is he—"

"He is fine Jason," Will says softly, "He managed to jump back before the tail swiped him. He's actually really worried about you. We all are."

He doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't even know if he deserves that. Hazel is right. If he hadn't distracted Nico they wouldn't be in this situation. It was dumb luck that Nico managed to get out of the way. If he hadn't. Oh gods, Jason would have been responsible for killing his friend.

With that though he turns over in his bed and heaves straight into the trashcan.

"Everyone leave us." Percy's voice is soft, but there is an unmistakable command in it.

The buzzing of the infirmary hushes as people file out and Will gently clicks the door behind him.

"I didn't meant to distract him," Jason cries.

The Son of Poseidon clasps their hands together and looks into him, "I know Jase. I know."

He breaks down, sobs wracking his aching body. He can't even keep his head up. And the tears are ever flowing. He can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't do this.

Percy hops onto the bed and takes him into his arms. They sit there for many moments, the sound of his crying disrupting every inch of the silence.

"I can't do this anymore Percy."

He feels the demigod stiffen and he's afraid he said too much, has pushed another person away. But then his head is being tilted up by a soft hand and he's looking into oceans.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"There is no-one left and I cannot do this alone."

Something sparks in those emerald green eyes.

"You have never been alone Jason Grace. When the world is dust and the gods can once again become mortal, you will find that only one thing still exists."

"What— what is that?" He hiccups.

"Love. You cannot be alone if you have love."

His eyes pool with tears, fall to the floor, "Lies. There is no love."

"You have forgotten my friend what it feels like. And that is no one's fault but ours. We should have been there. Should have helped you, seen the signs. I should have known."

"Why you?"

"Because I know what it's like to have everything you've never wanted and bear the burden anyway. And when I left I added to yours. I'm sorry for that. I got selfish, wanted to know what it was like to live. But that meant you suffered."

"It's not your fault. I just thought I was stronger than I am."

"You are strong. You are so strong because you are still here. You took the nature of the gods and made it your own. Took the burden of everyone in these camps and carried it on your shoulders."

"Thank you," He mumbles, getting lost in the seas, "For saying that. When did you get so philosophical and wise?"

Percy cracks a grin at that, "After Tartarus I started going to therapy. I think you should too."

He mulls it over, flips the idea around in his mind, "Okay."

"And maybe..." The black haired boy pauses, "Maybe you should come with me to Montauk for the winter holidays. I think you could use a break from all the hero stuff."

"Really?" His eyes widen, staring at his friend.

"Really. Annabeth is in Cali to spend time with her dad and my mom and Paul are just going to spend some time at home with Estelle. I could use company."

"Won't you dad like blast me for being in his territory?"

"I'll talk to him," He smirked.

"Okay. That would be great!"

Percy gives him another squeeze and then jumps to the floor.

"Rest easy Grace."

"Jackson," He stops the demigod in his tracks, "Thank you for this. I needed it."

"We are alive Grace, and we are enough." Those green eyes are intense, filled with emotion. "Remember that."

Jason nods and when he finally succumbs to sleep once more, his soul takes a deep breathe and exhales a new beginning.

#I just love philosophical self help Percy okay #Let me be #Jason grace #Nico di Angelo #Percy Jackson #Will solace #Hazel Levesque #Baby fanfic #Baby fanfic series #PJSSG fanfic #PJSSG asks #Ciara's Convos #She speaks #Anon requests #not edited

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superrman · 4 years

Text

Grey

Summery: TK got off the guy and fell to the side, punching a grown man took a lot out of a guy. This was not a pretty scene. He was next to an unconscious guy that he had just beaten the crap out of. His white t-shirt was covered in blood, his jeans had ripped, he could feel the black eye starting and his knuckles were bloodied.

“Maybe Austin really is a small town.”

The look on Carlos’s face, not ideal TK thought.

“TK….Fuck.” Normally TK would have loved those two words coming out of Carlos’s mouth, but currently Carlos was pointing his gun at him, looking like he wanted to punch him and hug him at the same time.

“Just for the record you do look as hot as I thought holding a piece.” Okay now he looked mad only. TK was so screwed.

Tags: TK Strand/ Carlos Reyes Recreational Drug Use Angst Canon Compliant POV TK Strand Arrest Relapse

Word Count: 6295

A03 LINK

Grey.

A concept that most people don’t understand. Whenever TK tried to explain what he meant to non-users they all looked somewhat confused. It was weird to TK’s own ears. But that’s how he felt. All of the time, how he currently felt.

Austin just didn’t fit right. Everything about it made his skin itch.

Okay so blaming the city was a little lame but he wanted to blame something other than his own mind.

He had just responded to an email from Alex. That was fun. Alex made a bunch of excuses you were never around, I was lonely, you cared more about your job -- he was his father’s son after all. But that last line; I know you were using again.

TK couldn’t deny that one, and to be fair they were all right. He had zoned out of his relationship, and just like his Dad had taught him, he made a grand gesture to make up for it. Ignore your family for a few weeks, come back with a pizza night and brand-new video games. Emotionally check out for a couple months, family vacation time. So, TK had figured the same principle applied to Alex and there relationship, ignore him and not be around, a proposal would fix all of that. It didn’t.

TK wished there had been a good reason for his relapse but there wasn’t. It was just easy. He had run into an old friend from his heavy using days, and one thing led to another, and he figured it wouldn’t hurt. One night. It made things easier. And then there was a hard call, they had watched a child die. He couldn’t sleep that night. Why not one more night of indulging. He wasn’t going to spiral out this time. He had a job, he had to be functional. It was only at night, never at the job. Only on his days off. Oxy was a blessing because half the time no one even knew he was high. That feeling. Nothing compared. He didn’t feel Grey, he felt the opposite, a kind of nothing, but a nothing that didn’t hurt, not physically not emotionally, he was floating, he was at peace. The world wasn’t peaceful but being high was. The sad part was while he was at peace the rest of the people in his life weren’t.

Accidental overdoses are easy. Your body naturally builds a tolerance to the oxy, and to achieve that perfect high well you need more, that moment of serenity that TK craved, he had to take more. In the past he had overdosed twice. And that night, that night Alex left him, that night, the night that he remembered he was just a shell, well maybe he wanted a more permanent source of peace.

And now what - what was he supposed to do? Deny it, Alex knew him better than that. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t check out or start using again but so what? It didn’t excuse Alex cheating on him. Fuck. Couldn’t he have just left him, not replaced him? Why did he have to hurt him like that? Now what did he have?

Carlos.

God that guy was a mystery to TK. He was so hot, and kind, and sexy. Why was he trying to fix things between the two of them? They had started to go on dates. After the whole debacle at the police station, TK thought he had completely wrecked it. To be honest that was what he was aiming for. Completely destroying any chance of a relationship. No chance of getting hurt. Because if he was being honest, the whole situation had started to make him feel something. And TK had no desire for that.

He would hurt Carlos, or he’d make enough bad choices that Carlos would hurt him.

TK sighed, he had all of this excess energy. And nowhere to put it. His Dad was on shift, and now he was alone. Alone with his thoughts.

He wasn’t being drug tested for a while. And even then, it was easy to cheat the system. His Dad would watch him pee in a cup if he had to, but he didn’t know that you could easily pay off the med student in the lab to fake about the results. TK had done it more than once back in New York. He knew Texas would have broke college students too.

He could control it this time. Alex breaking his heart was an unexpected moment. But this time he would be careful. He wouldn’t hurt his Dad like that again.

So what if he got a little high at night. Who was he really hurting? He would keep it a secret.

Carlos didn’t know the signs. TK thought about sex high, god that was a nice feeling. But Carlos was a cop. He had to be extra careful. He would be.

He couldn’t buy a lot at a time, he had nowhere to hide the pills now, but that was better he could control it better that way.

TK knew that his Dad still checked around the house for pills.

Confident in his choices. This time he would hurt no one, because no one would ever know.

And that was how it started. One week passed. And TK enjoyed the sensation of getting away with the high. There was something so wrong, but it felt so right. No one knew.

It was the same feeling he had after he had gotten away with the barfight. The wrongness, the reckless edge. It made him feel alive. The fear of getting caught, it made him feel excited for what lay ahead. It was better than nothingness.

Sometimes TK was worried, his relationship with the crew was getting better. Marjan and Matteo were always cool with him. He and Judd had a weird bond. Paul was a cool dude. He was good during a night out. TK felt guilty he had indulged that night they went dancing. He figured if he got caught, he could play dumb and say he was spiked. He didn't have to worry, Carlos was too buzzed to notice anything. It was so reckless but so fun.

Should he be sober for the team? No, it wouldn’t hurt them, so why bother?

God, he loved getting away with the high.

It was helping with the ache.

Carlos was at work; he was complaining about his patrol schedule. It was so domestic. It made TK worry. They were getting comfortable.

His Dad was getting drinks with Michelle, so he was on his own. His Dad had assumed he was going to be with Carlos. He was still worried about leaving him on his own too often. TK couldn’t really blame him.

But guilt. Guilt was something TK was good at ignoring. The high was worth it.

There was a bar TK had found with a steady supply. The perks of working with first responders, you learn the spots for drugs because it was part of the job.

TK headed out, blasting his music, trying to quiet his mind. Ignore the guilt. No shame. He wasn’t wrong. No one was getting hurt.

It was a lively night as always. TK laughed at the clichéness of the bucking bronco mechanical bull. Sometimes Texas was really Texas. It was full of college aged kids having a good time. Ideal for a dealer.

TK saw his dealer. Crap he had a dealer already. No time to dwell on that.

He followed the guy into the men’s room, the only place without cameras, and easily exchanged the cash for a small bag of pills.

“You know I can give you a better deal for a higher quantity, right?” TK had yet to learn the man’s actual name. He only had his number.

“Thanks for the concern, but this is all I need for now.” The smirk on the guys face when he heard all I need rubbed TK the wrong way, he could see the judgment. But what could TK say? He would be back for more. Soon he’d have to buy more. It was the way things went. No, this time TK would keep it under control.

TK went to the bar and ordered a trusty mineral water.

Smiling at the bartender, TK made casual small talk. He easily swallowed the pills washing them down with the water. No one even noticed. He was good at hiding pills.

He turned his attention to the crowd. He had always been able to be personable when he tried. Casual small talk with the regulars.

Slowly the pills kicked in.

After a few, a guy who was clearly out of the closet began chatting TK up, offering to buy him a drink. For a minute TK was tempted. And that instant he thought of Carlos, shamed filled TK. He knew that even though Carlos and he were taking it slow, Carlos deserved better. Carlos deserved better.

God he was high in a bar flirting with random college students.

Shit.

TK walked out the back of the bar, to enjoy some fresh air while the sensation of drifting was coming in. He could take another pill. It should drown out the shame. It always did.

When TK walked out of the bar, he noticed a girl who had gone out for a smoke. She was being hassled by a guy. He was bigger than she was by a foot easily. He was taller than TK. Looked buffer too. More Judd’s height and weight.

TK smiled a little, a challenge, perfect. TK had always loved getting into fights. He loved the risk, the thrill. Bigger than him, no problem. More than one guy, that just added to the pleasure. TK had purposefully fought two guys that were drunk, bigger and angry. It was just something that made him feel alive. TK normally didn’t need a reason to fight, he could always think of one later, but tonight it was like a gift.

TK walked over just as he did, the girl yelled at the guy to leave or she’d start screaming.

The fear on her face, angered TK, in a reckless sort of way.

Without even thinking about the consequences, TK shoved the guy hard, getting in between the guy and the young girl.

“She said leave.” The other guy was clearly drunk, and not going to take no for an answer. TK was just fine with that.

“You are going to regret that you, little bitch!”

TK relished the fight. He made sure to give the girl enough room to get away. She ran into the bar, and TK, god, he felt good. The guy was bigger, but not a good fighter, he got in a decent punch, he was going to have a black eye, but otherwise TK was more skilled, once he had the man off balance, it was easy.

He was able to straddle the guy. He shouldn’t have thrown the next punch, but he did. The guy was down, but god TK didn’t care. There was something so cathartic about the violence. This guy got off on scaring girls, now he would remember what happened.

TK should have heard the sirens. But he didn’t. He was too focused on the fight.

“Police!” TK recognized that voice immediately.

TK got off the guy and fell to the side, punching a grown man took a lot out of a guy. This was not a pretty scene. He was next to an unconscious guy that he had just beaten the crap out of. His white t-shirt was covered in blood, his jeans had ripped, he could feel the black eye starting and his knuckles were bloodied.

TK leaned back to balance before he buckled, “Maybe Austin really is a small town.”

The look on Carlos’s face, not ideal TK thought.

“Just for the record you do look as hot as I thought holding a piece.” Okay now he looked mad only. TK was so screwed.

Behind him another police officer came up to check on the guy that TK had just finished beating the crap out of. “He’s going to need a hospital.”

Shit.

He should have stopped hitting the guy earlier.

“You can go with him; I have this guy.” Carlos said.

Not how TK imagined being handcuffed by Carlos. But it was about to happen. TK pulled himself off the floor, then put his hands in the air, he had been through this process enough times to know what to do. The other officer had his gun trained on him, while Carlos cuffed him. TK knew he’d be even more fucked when Carlos patted him down. It was procedure before putting him into the cop car. He would find the baggie of pills, he hadn’t tossed it. Rookie mistake. Shit.

Carlos grabbed his wrists, not all together too gentle. TK felt the cold metal clasp around his wrists. Carlos held his arm as he guided him to the car. TK knew he was talking but god, trying to focus was hard.

This would have been the point in the night when he would have taken another two pills to continue the high. Not looking likely now.

“Do you understand your rights as I have told you?” Carlos asked. Bring TK back down to earth.

“I understand.” TK mumbled. Letting out a small cough, he tried to cut the tension, “Not my first time getting arrested Officer.”

“This isn’t funny TK, that guy was out cold.” Carlos really had the disappointed mother hen voice down.

TK tried to shrug but it was hard to do in cuffs, while Carlos was still holding his arm in place.

“I have to check for weapons, do you have anything on you that I should know about?” Carlos asked, TK couldn’t place the emotion in his voice, and thankfully he wasn’t facing him.

“Nothing that does any damage to anyone else.” TK sighed; Carlos was patting him down anyways. Why should he have believed him?

TK hated this moment. He loved the feeling of Carlos’s hands on him normally, but now...it felt wrong.

Carlos turned him around. And checked his front jean pockets. He pulled out the bag. Christ TK wished he never saw that look. There was a flash of anger that was soon replaced with pity. TK looked down. God. He was monumentally screwed.

“TK…” Carlos groaned. He was shaking his head.

“What can I say officer, sorry I didn’t offer to share that was rude of me.” TK wished he could shut up. He was not helping the situation.

Carlos opened the door to the car and shoved TK into the seat. He could hear Carlos swearing under his breath. TK’s Spanish wasn’t good enough to understand.

But this was better, Carlos should be angry. He couldn’t help TK now. He might be over the edge this time. Assault and possession, he wasn’t that good at explain things away. He could justify the fight enough to potentially hold onto his job, but the pills nope, not this time. His Dad would kill him.

Shit Dad. He would have that stupid disappointed look on his face. This was going to break his heart. TK was sobering up way to fast. TK breathed in and leaned back, pushing his head as far back as he could. He’d have preferred covering his face with his hands but being handcuffed in the back of a police car was not ideal.

No way he would be able to pass a drug test now. Deep breaths. What the hell was he going to do?

“Are you going to say anything?” Carlos spit out, he could hear the frustration in his voice. What could he say to him that would make this make sense?

There was no decent explanation.

Sorry but I figured getting high when people weren’t around was fine, and then I started feeling guilty so I figured a fist fight would help, didn’t mean to get so out of hand but you know shit happens. He doubted Officer Reyes would understand.

Soon he’d be royally fucked, they were almost at the station.

TK sat up straight he could feel Carlos’s glare through the rear-view mirror.

TK tried shrugging again.

Carlos pulled over to the curb and turned off the engine, He turned around to face TK.

“You’ve fucked up your entire career tonight, you know that right?!” Carlos shouted. TK wished he didn’t see the concern behind the anger. Carlos was too good.

TK just swallowed hard. He knew he had fucked up. The problem with hanging of the edge of a cliff is that eventually you’ll fall off.

Carlos hit the bars separating them. TK didn’t expect that. And then he flung open his door, and within seconds he was being pulled out of the car. With one arm Carlos yanked him out, and TK was lucky Carlos was strong otherwise he’d have fallen over. Carlos slammed the car door behind him, and then he shoved him up against the car. TK’s wrists hit the handle, and then pushed into his back.

It was more than uncomfortable it hurt. TK was shocked, this had to be breaking protocol.

“What the hell?!” Carlos yelled again. Fury and pain was clear in his eyes.

“There isn’t a good explanation.” TK groaned; he did not want to have this conversation. He was already screwed enough. “I wanted to get high, so I did, and I wanted to get into a fight so I did. And now I am fucked.”

“Fucked doesn’t even begin to describe your situation.” Carlos spit out. “How the hell do you plan to get out of this huh?”

TK wanted to laugh for some reason. “Look the second you found those pills it was over. Potentially I could have explained away the fight, but no way around possession. I get that there is no way out now.”

Carlos looked confused. As if there was something that didn’t quite add up.

“Why haven’t you asked me to toss the pills?” There was something in the way that Carlos asked that, he sounded hurt.

“I wouldn’t ever ask you to do that.” TK was not that much of an asshole.

“Why not? Everyone always asks the arresting officer to look the other way. I have had people ask favours because I am Latino, or because I am gay or because they saw me on the street once, but you don’t even ask and we are… fuck I don’t know.”

Oh shit. TK didn’t know how he had managed to fuck up getting arrested even more, but somehow he did. Asking Carlos to help him like that wouldn’t be admitting they were something, it would be hurting Carlos to help himself, and he could not do that. “I can’t ask you to compromise your ethics because I am a fuck up!”

Carlos had to know that he was much better than TK, how could he ask him to do something that would make him feel like shit. TK would just mess up again. “I don’t deserve it.”

Carlos was looking at him in an odd way. “You really think that don’t you.”

TK didn’t want to look at Carlos anymore, he turned his head to the side. “I can’t take advantage of you; you are too good. You deserve better.”

Carlos’s hand touched TK’s cheek, it was so gentle, softly he guided TK’s face back towards him. “Why did you do this? Please help me understand.”

TK half smiled slightly for a moment. What could he say but; “because it felt good, okay.”

“A black eye and risking your entire career felt good?” God why was Carlos so damn beautiful, it made everything harder.

“I just...I...I have been using for a while. I am pretty good at being a functional junkie, never at work, but still.” TK wanted to shift his face back, but Carlos held his hand on his cheek forcing TK to look at the man.

“Anyways that guy was hassling a girl and I just...it pissed me off and I figured a fight was another thing to liven up the grey.” TK didn’t know the words to make him understand how fucked up he was, how much he itched, and craved for the high. “You shouldn’t help me, look at me, this is the real me, this is why I didn’t want you to get close to me.”

Carlos flinched. “How does someone so amazing, end up thinking so little of themselves?”

TK couldn’t look at that adoration in Carlos’s face. He closed his eyes. Wishing that he was anywhere but here.

“You run into burning buildings to help people, you see a friend in pain you go out of your way to cheer them up, you are kind and brave, how are you also this monumentally stupid.” Carlos moved his hand away from TK’s cheek, and moved it to his bicep. For a second TK thought perhaps Carlos wanted to shake him.

TK laughed. Brave. Being a firefighter meant everyone thought he was brave.

“What’s so funny?”

“I run into burning buildings cause it’s the best high you can get without pills, its reckless and it makes you feel alive, when I gave up pills the first time, I replaced one high with the other.” TK had never admitted that out loud. He had no real calling to be a firefighter. He just figured that it would be a good chance to be back in his Dad’s good books, and then he tasted the adrenaline, he lived for it.

“TK….” Carlos looked to be struggling to find the words. He had to realize there were no words.

“This is my fuck up, you don’t have to fix me Carlos, I am so sorry.” TK wished he could take tonight back. He really messed up, but no way in hell TK was going to let Carlos compromise his integrity for him. He was going to arrest him; he was going to turn the pills into evidence. Carlos was still close enough that TK leaned forward and kissed him, a gentle peck. An apology kiss. “You have to give the pills into evidence. And you are not allowed to feel guilty. I messed up not you.”

Carlos kissed him back, his kiss was angry and hard, and not what he expected. “You really love making things hard for me Tyler Kennedy.”

“I know I messed up but seriously with the full name, that was uncalled for.” TK tried to coax a laugh.

Carlos opened the door again, this time he put TK in the back gently.

He was forgiven. At least he hoped he was.

“Ever consider dating a convict?” TK figured what the hell, not like he had much more to lose tonight.

“Seriously TK?” Carlos groaned. “How can you be so calm?”

What could he say? As a professional fuck up, he always knew this day would come. He was afraid of only his Dad’s reaction. But he had time for that.

They pulled into the station. “This was not how you were supposed to meet my friends.” Carlos murmured into TK’s ear as he led him to booking. TK laughed at that.

“What can I say, at least I will be memorable.” TK tried to angle back to see Carlos’s face but it was hard with the cuffs.

When they entered the bull pen, TK’s heart stopped, his Dad was already there. Standing next to an older man, Shit Carlos must have radioed ahead when he had zoned out.

TK looked at the ground immediately, waves of shame radiating through him. He wished he was high now, it would at least make this easier to deal with.

The other man walked towards them.

“Sir.” Carlos said. He could hear the deference in his voice, this was a superior. Of course, probably because he was the son of a prominent fire chief, he wasn’t just messing up his career. Damn Dad, I am sorry, TK wanted to blurt out. How had things gotten out of control so fast?

“You’ve had quite the night, Son.” TK willed himself to look up, that was odd the man was smiling.

“Um, sir?” What was he supposed to yah, it was a great night?

“See the young woman you happened to defend was the daughter of Judge Reynolds, she had a restraining order out on that man you so thoroughly beat up, she told us the entire story.” The man clapped TK’s shoulder.

A judges daughter. A judge tight with what looked like the chief of police. This was too good to be true. Public officials looked out for one another, attacking one of them was an attack on them all. The cops would do anything it took to protect a judges daughter.

This wasn’t happening. Was this a get out of jail free card?

“Uncuff the boy, Reyes.” The man had a booming voice.

“Sir.” TK felt Carlos unlock the handcuffs, and soon his wrists were free.

“I don’t understand?” TK voiced. Carlos still could stop this. One mention of what he found on TK and boom, the good will would end because his father would put an end to it.

“Well Lucy, the young woman told us everything, how she went out for a smoke and Greg attacked her, and how you without any regard for yourself stepped up to defend her, and so obviously we won't be filling charges. I called your Dad here to take you home. I am sure Judge Reynolds and Lucy will want to thank you personally.”

TK saw his Dad beaming at him. He walked over. “I am proud of you son, but next time try and not knock the guy into next week, you gave him a concussion.”

“Sorry.” TK said sheepishly. “He was kind of bigger than me, it was hard to tell if he was down.”

Being an addict didn’t give you many valuable skills but being fast on your feet was one of the only ones. TK went along with the whole story.

"Ehhh" The other officer laughed. "Your boy was just doing what was necessary."

“So, no other charges?” TK asked, it was a silent question to Carlos, just say it Carlos. Even now TK wouldn’t blame Carlos, he knew what following the law, being an honest cop meant to Carlos.

His Dad looked at him a little weird. “Don’t worry kid they checked with the bartender she confirmed you were just drinking mineral water. Nothing to clear up. Let’s take you home and get some ice on that eye.”

TK couldn’t believe his luck. This was not happening.

His Dad didn’t seem to suspect a thing. He chatted with him on the way home. TK lied easily saying he was bored, and he heard about the mechanical bull, it sounded funny. His Dad didn’t even blink, and of course since he had confirmation that he had stayed sober at the bar, TK knew he was just proud he had stepped up to protect someone else.

“I think I am going to lie down now Dad; I am sore as shit.” TK mumbled.

When he entered his room, TK saw his phone, Carlos wanted to meet.

What should he do? Fuck.

TK snuck around back. He did not want his Dad to know about this. Carlos said he’d meet TK at the end of his street.

TK groaned, as he walked down the street, without the oxy his body really hurt.

Thankfully he had changed out of his bloody clothes. He was wearing a comfy hoodie, and sweatpants. He saw Carlos’s Camero at the end of the block, his shift must have ended right after he let TK go.

“Hi.” TK had another moment of not knowing what to say, it was becoming a habit around Carlos.

Carlos had his arms folded as he leaned on the hood. “You know tonight did not go how I expected at all.” He had one of those collared shirts on that hung on his bicep. And a pair of dark jeans. He looked perfect.

“Looking good officer.” TK smirked at him. Figuring couldn't go wrong with a compliment.

Carlos chuckled, still not changing his posture.

“You are fucking lucky as shit.” Carlos said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the baggie.

TK sighed. “I won’t blame you if you tell the truth.”

“Not exactly possible now that I let you walk.” Carlos pointed out extending the bag towards TK.

“Fine then arrest me now.” TK grabbed the bag. “I never wanted you to have to cover for me, it’s not right.”

“I am not going to arrest you TK.” Carlos sighed. "I don't want to,"

“You should.” Taking the baggie into his hand, TK didn’t know what to do, he still craved it. He should have gone to a meeting that night.

Carlos looked so dejected, TK knew what not turning him in was doing to Carlos. He was a good police officer, he would cut a break to someone who deserved, but TK didn’t. He had a million chances, he should have known better. He was hurting someone who didn’t deserve any pain especially not from him.

“I always thought of my using as victimless, until one night I overdosed, and my mom and Dad looked like they had just had their stomachs pumped not me. I felt bad but I just told myself I wouldn’t take too much again, no one would get hurt” TK mumbled. “The second time, I was a firefighter, and luckily they considered it an accident, on the account they had been prescriptions and I had been injured on the job so…” Carlos just waited for him to continue. “But god my team was so worried. I figured this time, okay I will stop for real. And then...and then last time.”

How did he tell Carlos, that last time he had tried to kill himself? “I fucked up. I just always think this time I will be careful enough, this time no one will get hurt. I never not once wanted to hurt you.”

“Then stop.” Carlos looked at him with such hope. Stop, what a novel idea.

“I am trying.” TK knew it was a shitty answer. But he was trying. “I am going to a meeting first thing.”

Carlos nodded. “Okay then.” His eyes lingered on his hand; TK was clutching the baggie tighter than he should.

Fuck.

TK chucked the bag as hard as he could. “I swear.”

“I know but I still don’t really understand…” Carlos was mulling his words so carefully. “I want to understand why getting high was worth everything tonight.”

TK shoved his hands into his pockets. He felt so small in this moment.

“I wish I had a good explanation, I guess once you start, well stopping is hard.” Carlos didn’t look convinced. “Not just the cravings which never seem to go away, but the rush, once you reach that perfect high, that singular moment that takes away your physical and emotional pain, well, real life doesn’t seem as appealing after that.”

Carlos nodded.

"I've read the pamphlets I get intellectually its hard for you. I just hated arresting you tonight. I hated everything about tonight."

“I should have worked the program harder, I guess I thought I could do it on my own, but I know how lucky I got this time Carlos, I am going to sober up. I’ve done it before.” TK wished he could sound more convincing, the only thing he could promise was he was going to try.

As Carlos turned away, TK’s heart sank. What could he say? Did he even want Carlos to stay? Could he handle any of this?

“Can I ask you something?” Carlos was holding his car handle door, but his body was angled towards TK, he could see the battle in Carlos’s eyes, should he stay should he go?

“After tonight, I owe you any answers you want.”

“Why did you start using pills?” TK chuckled; he knew Carlos was wondering how a middle-class kid with two loving parents decide to go down such a dangerous path, after all he had it pretty good. Sadly for Carlos there wasn’t a trauma it was just a series of bad choices. It could happen to anyone.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

TK hopped onto the hood of the car. Signalling Carlos to join him; “I did just get my ass kicked. I am a little tired.”

Carlos laughed “please I saw the other guy, you really can handle yourself in a fight.”

TK shrugged. “Sorry to say but it’s because I’ve had practice.”

Carlos frowned. He sat next to TK, he was clearly waiting for TK to tell him the story.

“I guess it started when I was a teenager. I was partying a lot anyways drinking a lot, and smoking weed all of the time, but when I was eighteen I was dating an older guy.” TK turned his head towards the sky, he’d rather not see Carlos’s face, he did not want to sound like a tired cliché, but he was.

“How much older?” Carlos asked.

“He was twenty-seven at the time.” Carlos groaned.

“It wasn’t like I was exactly inexperienced or anything. Anyways he was a big partier, and I started hanging around people who did some stronger things than weed and it was like this whole new world had opened up. First it was uppers, and then it was opioids, they had really hit the scene. I had been struggling with depression for a bit but pills were an easy fix and suddenly I realized that I liked feeling high better than I liked sobriety.”

“But why?”

TK chuckled. “My mom is a bigger work-a-holic than my Dad mostly because she had to raise me so after I grew up a bit she started to chase the dreams she had let go of, I don’t blame her. My Dad was never around, we are close now but that’s just because I joined his crew. So I always felt like I wasn’t good enough, and I just I don’t know felt lost.” TK had always wanted to feel like he was a part of a family, sadly for him his family had always been fractured. “I was left without supervision so no one noticed when I fell in with the wrong crowd, and no one really noticed the signs of depression, I know I didn't."

TK had never been good at asking for help. "And like I know it’s bad in Texas and I can’t complain much because New York.”

“Being out anywhere is a challenge TK.” Carlos interrupted firmly.

“I know, but let’s just say first responders tend to not look to fondly on gay kids.” His Dad might have been supportive, but TK had grown up hearing how he was a blotch on his Dad’s legacy. Sucks that the all American Owen Strand had a gay kid. It got worse after he started partying more, TK hated to admit it he had been arrested more than once. He was lucky to still be admitted to the academy. If his mom hadn’t been such a good lawyer, well his life could have gone a completely different way. “And I guess I was always thinking I wasn’t good enough. I made some bad choices. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, so it was easier to fill the gaps with pills.”

TK wondered still if he picked the right thing.

“Okay maybe it wasn’t a long story, but for a long time I tried to convince myself that if I was using, I wasn’t hurting anyone, and then it was this time I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I am starting to realize that I can’t use and not hurt people, so yah.” TK wasn’t sure what to say.

Carlos sat up. “I hope you do stop TK, cause you deserve to think more of yourself. I won’t mention the drugs this time, but…”

TK wanted to promise there wouldn’t be a next time, to erase the worry he saw in Carlos’s face, but he didn’t want to lie like that. But this time he would try.

TK kissed Carlos, maybe that would convey what he was trying to say. “I will try, I swear.”

“Try for yourself.” Carlos sighed.

“I have to get going TK.” Carlos looked sad. “Call me if you want to hang out sober minus the cuffs.”

TK hopped off his car. “Maybe you can bring the cuffs still.”

“Busting my balls, huh?” Carlos laughed.

TK shrugged. The only thing he could say was; “Thank you.”

Carlos nodded.

“One time TK, never again.” Carlos got into his car.

TK watched him drive away. He knew where he had tossed the pills, he could go and find them. And then sober up tomorrow. He was still sore from the fight. But he could hear the finality of Carlos’s voice. The pride in his father’s eyes. Was it worth it?

Never again. Carlos had meant it.

Don’t break so fast.

Shit, he really was going to have to go to a meeting.

He wasn’t going to lie to Carlos, he was going to try. Maybe just maybe to see in himself what Carlos saw, because he wanted to be that guy.

Fin

#tarlos #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #jasonvtodd #for emily she is the reason i have written so much #i know suddenly two long fics in a week i don't know whats happening either

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marueonmain · 4 years

Text

WINDFLOWER

part three ~ without the dolphin ~

(part one) (part two) (part three)

A/N: Thank you all so so much for reading! I never thought people would care about my writing and I am so appreciative. I’ve got messages/asks open for comments or questions.

Summary: Y/N warms up to Alex. George advises him to not be an idiot.

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Secondhand Embarrassment. Mild Language.

Word Count: 2.3k

There was no music in the lift. There was no music to interrupt Alex's music blaring into his ears. If there were someone around, they would have heard his questionable song choice for the four-minute trip from his apartment to meet the deliveryman and back again. Not that that trip required music.

However, consider that the brain could think thousands of thoughts in four minutes, and the chances of those all being pleasant thoughts are minuscule. Why take that chance? Why not drown them all out?

DING the sliding doors opened. Alex stepped out with a bounce in his step set in-time with the backbeat of the chorus playing in his ears.

Coming from around the corner where the mailroom was, Y/N brushed past him in a flash of blue clothing. She did not seem to see him.

But he saw her, like a Where's Wally game he was not aware he was playing. He took out one of his earbuds, slipping it in his pocket. Alex was determined to be normal: to make up for the initial awkwardness of their first meeting.

Y/N walked past the lift and started for the stairs. She was on the fifth or sixth step.

"Red!" called Alex.

"Hmm? Oh, hello," she said, smiling.

"How are you doing?" It was uncomfortable for him to be on a lower plane than to whom he was speaking, but Y/N was not moving, so neither was he.

"Tired."

"For tired, you don't look too bad. No I didn’t—you don't look bad. You look good!" Amidst recovering from his slip, Alex noticed how different Y/N was then last time. Different in appearance, with her softer expression and relaxed shoulders, and in her aurora. It was calmer, more open.

"You look good too. That shade of yellow—" she pointed to his sweatshirt, "—compliments your hair."

"Really? You think?" He thought he might just melt or spill open in front of her.

"I'm not a liar. What are you up to?" Y/N looked around, keeping her head on a slight swivel. She returned to meet Alex's gaze with something like concern shining, hiding behind her animated expression.

"I'm meeting a deliveryman. If you want, you could come and eat pizza with George and me." After a short beat, he added, "Invite Sammy too."

"Is George your flatmate or..." Y/N intentionally trailed off.

"Flatmate." Alex thought he might have seen Y/N's smile widen more so for a second at his answer. But he could not be sure what he saw was real or just a manifestation of what he wished to see.

"He sounds nice."

"George? Yeah, he's lovely. Not as lovely as me, of course."

Nodding in mock seriousness, Y/N confirmed, "Of course."

It was a simple conversation, but it felt so alive: so real: so this is happening right now and Alex felt so present. Like looking at himself in the mirror late at night and being hit with the conscious recognition of I am a person. Here I am this corporeal being. Not made of words or thoughts, what I find funny or opinions I like, my mental state or view count.

Alex was real talking to Y/N. Words were free-flowing out of him as he processed and reacted simultaneously. Such an understanding – if harnessable – could lead to solutions for world hunger or maybe even get him to three million subscribers within the year.

"So, you'll come along?"

"I can't." Y/N frowned a slight frown. Her nervous nature returned as she cleared her throat and began to fiddle with her fingers.

"Come on, Red," his voice whined with the plea before stabilizing, "It'll be fun. It's not just pizza. I was planning on throwing together a salad as well to go with it."

"How healthy."

"Oh? Do you not know?" Alex paused so Y/N could shake her head. "I'm only buying a pizza to support local businesses; I'm really an expert in the kitchen."

"Is that right?" She raised an eyebrow.

"World-renowned."

"You know what? I see it now. Better than Ramsey, aren't you?"

"Leagues better. I'd challenge any chef to rival my bagged salad mix. It's spectacular – delicious."

Y/N giggled, and Alex joined.

Music had continued to blare from the earbud he left in, but he had been able to ignore it during the conversation. Until a particular song came on – one he downloaded as a joke – and he heard the line: got our song...up and ready

Did Alex wish Y/N and he had a song? No, that was dumb. An unrealistic expectation the romance genre shoved upon its (generally) female audience. But did he? Kind of. It would be cute. Men can want to be cute, too, right?

"So, you'll come?" he asked...again.

Y/N fiddled with the collar of her chin-hugging top. "I would, but I can't. Sam would—don't you think you've made your deliveryman wait long enough?"

"Probably. You have some time to change your mind; just ring me if you do."

"I don't have your number."

"Alright," he made a give it here gesture, "I'll plug it in."

Y/N's bright expression faltered a smidge as she relinquished her phone to him. It was an older model but still a smartphone: no passcode: no apps other than those built-in. Her wallpaper was a picture of Sammy and her on a nature walk.

Alex’s prominent adam's apple jumped. A pain like indigestion or like guilt stabbed him in the stomach. After plugging in his number, he took an extra second to double-check it and add some personal flair.

Y/N took her phone back. "Why the emoji? I think I'll know who you are without the..." Y/N squinted at the screen. "...without the dolphin."

"Never know. It could be a good reminder."

"I suppose, it does match your eyes," she muttered, still focused on the phone. Y/N froze for a second, clearly not having meant to say that out loud.

"There you go, it's perfect. Don't be afraid to call or text me; I'm on that thing 24/7, and I promise to reply in at least one-to-two business days. Guaranteed."

She scoffed, "You should go get your pizza."

It would not be the first or fifth time Alex had forgotten about a deliveryman, and – while he would let his extra-large go stone-cold before willingly break off a conversation with her – it was apparent Y/N was itching to get somewhere.

"True." Alex gave a short wave, maintaining his distance. "I'll see you later."

"Bye.” Y/N disappeared up the stairs.

~LATER~

Alex balanced the extra-large pizza box in one hand. Never having worked in food service, his confidence in doing so was even lower than his regular self-confidence. With his other hand, he patted himself down, looking for the key to his apartment. He cursed at himself for having locked it out of habit when he left.

There was muffled shouting coming from inside – sounding both playful and angry. It took a single step through the door for Alex to recognize the source of the shouting.

George was in his bedroom watching a video back without his headphones on.

A great grief. A true unseen struggle for all youtubers – headphones were uncomfortable. Constant low-pressure squeezing developed into the biggest hazard of the job: chronic headaches. Both flatmates had expressed how they sometimes woke up to the feeling like they needed to relieve a phantom pressure and take off their headphones despite not wearing them to bed.

"Take high ground," a familiar voice commanded. "You have to down this guy."

Pre-recorded George asked, "Where is he?"

"Left. LEFT! Your left! Goddammit George, you dyslexic bitch."

It was with bitch that Alex recognized the other voice in the recording– it was Joshy, and it was a fortnite video from the sound of it.

"This gun is so weak it's hitting nine damage," pre-recorded George complained.

Joshy screamed, "Let's go; we got to go!"

"You do your thing. I'll be over there in a bit."

Their bickering continued sounding identical in tone to that of a couple outside divorce court. Viewers loved how shit George was at fortnite and how increasingly frustrated that made Joshy: the shouting, the swearing, the idle threats and name-calling. Pairing up together for these types of gameplay videos would often have them banging out a quarter to half a million views per video.

Meanwhile. Alex placed the pizza box on the coffee table and fell onto the sofa with an exhausted sigh. Sitting up, he grabbed at the box lid and started claiming the best-looking slices in his head.

Eyes flickered to the closed-door: George had not heard him come in – surely not. And he would not be mad if Alex started in on devouring the pizza without him – surely not. Right?

Stacking two slices on top of one another, Alex crammed them into his mouth quick, as if scared they would be taken away from him, and burned his tongue.

"Help me," pleaded the pre-recorded George, "Help me. Help me."

"Nah. Don't think I will."

"Josh, if you don't revive me right now. I swear to god, I will piss in your mouth while you sleep."

Alex snorted, choking on the third slice of pizza he had fit in his big mouth; he had been on the receiving end of that piss threat before, several times. Most recently because he left a plate in the sink and George swore if Alex did not clean it that second, he would...well...piss in his mouth.

"That's not very nice." Joshy mimicked genuine sadness. "I got you."

1/3 of the pizza was gone, and Alex decided it fair to call George in before he scranned it all himself. "George! Pizza's here!"

"Alright!" George (the real not the pre-recorded) shouted back. There was the sound of his door closing and the padding of his socked feet down the short hall before he appeared around the corner. Met with Alex and the 2/3 of a room temperature pizza, he asked the appropriate, "What the fuck?"

"I was starved."

"And here I was thinking the one excuse I would accept for taking twenty years to get the pizza was that you'd run into the street and got hit.”

Alex spoke around his mouth being full, "Sorry."

"Whatever." He snuck in a quick smack against the side of Alex's head as he joined him on the sofa.

Both men sat in silence, shoving slices of pizza into their mouth like it was a competition. Like there was no other food in their apartment. Like they could not order another pizza. Like it proved something.

Breaking the silence, Alex swiped the sleeve of his sweatshirt across his mouth and asked, "Are we still filming that opening pokemon cards video tomorrow?"

"Yes. Just need someone to film the over-the-shoulder angle. Lewis is sick."

"Sick with what?"

"Not the bug." George rolled his eyes mockingly. His eating had slowed down after hitting the wall, half-way through his fifth slice. "It's like a cold or something. Could you ask your new mate Sammy to do it?"

"Why not ask Will to come down?"

"Don't trust him," he said, shrugging.

"Fair enough. I'll ask him when we hit the pub later." Alex stood and walked to the kitchen. At the sink, he washed his hands with dish detergent and, cupping his hands into a bowl, washed around his mouth with the soapy water. Satisfied, he took a towel to his hands and face before returning to see George shutting the lid on the pizza box. "What do you think of Sammy?"

"How do you mean?"

"Just in general."

George shrugged. "He's cool."

"Yeah," Alex agreed – because he did agree with the statement; he liked Sammy.

There was a pause, and, in the interlude, George stood and grabbed the pizza box. He brought it to the kitchen bin; balancing it on top the overflowing rubbish. Curious and perhaps thinking he heard a tonal shift in their dialogue, George settled himself to be pressing his shoulder against the wall nearest where Alex stood. Leaning like he was in a how do you do fellow kids meme.

Alex felt very much 'squared up' to. He turned to be met with a quick tilt of the head and a scrutinizing near-glare from his flatmate. It was not unlike George to stick his nose in where it does not belong; could this be considered that type of situation? Alex did ask for his opinion.

Clearing his throat, George asked, "Is this about Y/N?"

"I was talking to her earlier and—"

"Why were you talking to her?"

"—and I got the sense that Sammy might be like a tad controlling. I don't know."

"Are you serious?" George asked harshly before continuing in a softer voice – with a hint of hesitation, of caution, "You know what happens when you jump to conclusions like that. You shouldn't be chatting up Y/N behind Sammy's back."

"It wasn't like I cornered her. We ran into each other." Alex tugged on his sleeves, pulling them past his shaking fingers – seconds away from crawling into himself.

It was not playful bullying between friends anymore; it was a telling off. And neither was comfortable. George's eyes pleaded for Alex to look up and meet them, and for Alex to understand. Alex held no negative feelings toward George. But Alex hated himself for reacting as he was; he hated being human and having sensitive moments. Though he could not stop it.

"You have got to back off. Ok?" George confirmed, "If it means we can't have Sammy in the friend group, then that's what it means. We'll find someone else to film for us tomorrow."

"No, it's fine. I'll ask him," Alex said as he pulled up and straightened his posture. He smiled at George's concerned expression and added, "I'm not interested in Y/N."

#imallexx #imallexx imagine #imallexx x reader #alex elmslie #alex elmslie imagine #alex elmslie x reader #internet sensation #commentary crew #eboys #memeulous

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okimargarvez · 4 years

Text

REVERSE - 21

Original title: Reverse.

Prompt: Penelope is the new girl on the BAU team and Luke tries to treat her cold.

Warning: A.U., possible OOC.

Genre: drama, romantic, family, friendship.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, BAU team, Derek Morgan, O.C. Sam Cooper’ team, Roxy.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 62 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💑😘👓🔦🐶❗🎲🎈👻🎬🎵.

Song mentioned: Amici per errore, Tiziano Ferro.

Reverse- Masterlist

GARVEZ STORIES

This part is dedicated to @londonrosebooklovingwitch and @inlovewithgarvaz ^^

21 # It's another journey, put it in this way...

It is another hug to upset the balance laboriously reached by Agent Alvez. However, the female protagonist is different. He is drinking a coffee when he recognizes the sound of those steps. Low-heeled shoes. Since she became a mother, this is the best she can afford. How many times has she complained to JJ and the two laughed at it, together. He looks up at her but shakes his head in disbelief. It must be a vision. She is beautiful, dressed entirely in various shades of gray, trousers, naturally; she never loved skirts. The first thing he notices, when he realizes that she is real, is that she has cut her hair. Then she literally jumps on him. -Luke, oh God, Luke, you are okay!- she hugs him so tight that it takes his breath away. He does the same, feeling safe, serene, stretching his nostrils to pick up her scent... that has changed. He strokes her back, then gently detaches her from himself. However, she instantly kidnaps his hand.

-Of course, I'm fine, but what are you doing here?- Chrissie nails her nails into the soft flesh of his palm. -Not that I want to complain...- here, already better, her clear, cerulean eyes seem to warn him. She finally leaves him free. Not that he wanted it, as he said... it's just that it's strange. He struggled to get used to her absence.

-I received a message from Emily telling me that you had been injured and you were very serious.- she says, starting to breathe normally, now that she is sure that he is well. If he hadn't been so fond of risking, of being on the front line, perhaps she would have hesitated a little more. -I called you and you didn't answer.- Luke lifts his cell phone, screen black. She shakes her head. He will never learn to use chargers correctly. -I ran to Quantico, even if there was something that didn’t convince me...- or rather, precisely because there was something unclear. Why pretend she doesn't miss working for BAU?

The brunette lifts her phone and shows him the text message, as well as the sender. She leans against him, naturally. It is certainly not the first time and Rich has learned not to be jealous of it. Because then it seems... no, wrong would be a blasphemy. But it's not strange either, the right adjective. It's different. But it should be there another woman so calmly in his arms. He knows exactly who, but he'll continue to play the role of the dumb, at least for a little while longer. -No, it's better to discuss it with the rest of the team.- this time he's taking her by the hand. -Come on.- they cross the bullpen.

A cry is heard from the balcony, where the offices of the highest members are located. -Christine!- the woman runs down the stairs. Luke smiles, witnessing the repatriation.

-Emily!- another hug. -You really deserved to become the boss, I've always seen you well in the leadership roles.- the two immediately begin to chuckle, as if it were not true that they haven't seen each other for years. -JJ, my beloved blonde.- the former expert in communications with the press and media joins them.

-Chri, how nice to have you here!- comments the latter, with shining eyes.

She is much more cold; she always has been. So deeply similar to him, so deeply opposed to... -Same.- she then turns to the other man. -Rossi...- who shakes his head, dragging her into his arms.

-My little mouse who is too busy to write to me...- it is an affectionate rebuke.

She smiles and shrugs. -I'm sorry, I’m guilty.- she declares. One person is still missing, except for Spencer who cannot be present, even if he is finally out of prison. A nice relief. - Tara, how's your brother?- she asks.

She knew what happened in these months even though she wasn't here, mentally notes Luke. -Better, thank you and your Lise?- the pride of a mother paints her face.

-Oh, it's a little monster, she makes us despair, Rich and I don't sleep for more than two hours in a row...- only one can really understand her. It is she who comments.

-But it's still worth it, isn't it?- only then the man realizes that Garcia, Penelope, deliberately remained on the sidelines, probably feeling excluded from that parenthesis of joy. He can't help feeling a wave of sadness, but he doesn't do anything to change things. Stephanie is distant too, but she seems less affected by the whole thing.

-Every day.- she answers, becoming serious. Then she shows the same message to others.

Prentiss forces herself to take matters into her own hands. -Unfortunately, Christine is not here for a pleasure visit.- she says and everyone goes to the round table room (as Reid's mother had called it the first time she entered, after all she was an English literature teacher). Penelope comes in last.

Christine sighs, preparing to explain. -I received a message from Prentiss that made me believe that Alvez was injured during a mission.- she senses everyone's eyes on himself. She was no longer used to it, but it's a good feeling. -Someone must have hacked her cell phone and since I made it 99% secure, as much as mine... It must be a genius in my field.- she concludes.

-Seems like the typical skill of Scratch.- Walker reflects aloud.

Luke nods. -Unfortunately, Chri was unable to trace the address from which the hacking was carried out.- the blonde with glasses tries not to focus on the amber hand that is affectionately stroking his best friend's arm.

She sighs, seeing that nobody takes the floor. -I could try to give you help... Together we will surely make it.- she smiles, but looks only at the woman.

-Penelope Garcia, right?- she approaches her, to shake her hand. - It's like meeting my favorite Rockstar.- here she managed to make her blush. She hears giggles, one is Luke's. -It's nice to meet you, although I would have preferred a different circumstance...- she nods. They are so different that it’s impressive. Agent Alvez seems to be living in a parallel reality. His best friend and his... his nothing.

-Same.- she gives her an open smile. And then, she says it. -I've heard a lot about you.- with that cheeky tone. Chrissie glances over her shoulder.

She purses her lips in an amused grimace. -I bet I can guess the source.- Garcia laughs at her joke. He knew they would like each other. It was so obvious.

But it still bothers him that they joke in common on him. It is too strange. -Could we go back to Scratch?- he asks, sounding a little too desperate.

Emily gives him a hand, for other reasons. -Well, now we'll leave Christine and Garcia to work at the address.- the two nod in sync. Then she spreads her arms. -We can't do anything else.- all of them go out, except the nominated ones.

Christine touches her shoulder. -Can I be excused, Penelope?- the blonde nods. She closes her eyes once, driving away the tears. She knows perfectly well where (by whom) she is going.

She finds him exactly where she had imagined. On the balcony, watching the weather become progressively wintery. Luke turns to look at her. -Hey, honey, shouldn't you take care of the source?- his tone is sweet. She nods.

-Yes, but I must also tell you something else and I am sure Penelope will be well for five minutes.- as she could do it all alone, but she doesn’t add it.

He takes a moment. -She's not as good as you are.- he says stubbornly. Chrissie shakes her head in open disagreement.

She points a finger at him, accusingly. -Here, you see, that was what I wanted to say.- he swallows. -Em' and JJ told me.- here's the real source, thinks a crazy part of his brain, trying to escape from the moment of truth. -Don't you think you could be a little nicer to her?- there is no self-control when he is with her. He opens his mouth wide like a teenager caught smoking marijuana by his parents. -Come on, did you see her well? She is a ray of sunshine, the most sensitive and affectionate person in the Bureau, if not the entire universe.- he rolls his eyes, annoyed by the fact that she is so much right, yet this is not enough for him.

He sighs, before making his admission. -Yes, but... She's not you.- she nods.

-One more reason to do it.- she pushes him amicably. -Luke, you know I miss you very much too, but I saw how you look at her, you know? And how she looks at you.- and it's not even her specialization, analyzing people's behavior. -I don't need to be a profiler.- she reads his mind.

This doesn’t mean that he will give up without a fight. -You won't want to insinuate... No!- he shouts, frightening a sparrow resting on the ledge. -I can hardly stand her, she with all those trinkets on her wrists, on her hands, that golden hair and her inappropriate and out of place jokes...- Christine shakes her head, giving him a (weak) punch on the chest.

-Alvez, you really are a fool about women.- it wasn’t the first time she told him. -Do as you like, now I have to go back to the office.- she starts and then stops, turning to look at him. -But you know that you're throwing a wonderful opportunity in the toilet... And all because she took my place.- she loves her refined way of expressing herself. As Orpheus should have done to bring his beloved Eurydice back to the world of the living, she doesn’t look back. As soon as she enters the round room, Garcia gestures for her to join her.

She indicates the screen. -Hey, maybe I found a way around that block.- she says shyly. She is quite convinced that much of the blame lies with that idiot of her best friend. But if he thinks she will sit idly...

-Penelope, you are a true genius.- she gives her a quick hug.

-Thanks, I...- she hesitates. -I'm going to tell the others.- Christine gives her the approval. It is up to her now. Just two minutes and everyone is there again, even the jerk.

-Now we can catch him.- Emily announces. -Wheels up in 5.- the strength of habit prevails, even when it is not necessary to use the jet, as in this case. He goes out, followed by the rest of the team. Even Chrissie is preparing to imitate them.

A hand around her wrist stops her. -Hey, where are you going?- she smiles.

-Lise and Richard are waiting for me.- she observes him nodding. -I just wanna say hello to Reid, I'm so mad that he didn't tell me anything about what he went through, even if I understand it, in a way.- they hug. She places her head on his chest. Facilitated by her tallness and by not wearing high shoes. -Try not to get yourself killed, okay?- she whispers.

And Luke replies with the same sentence as always. -I'll do.- she comes off first.

-Luke, you have three minutes.- she winks at him, pointing to the watch on his wrist, before disappearing into an elevator. He sighs, shakes his head, still feeling her perfume... but it's the wrong one. As he walks with the intention of preparing himself, he is caught by a sort of vision, which however in his head he renames as a presentiment. He sees himself dead, a corpse on the asphalt, thrown away by a terrible accident, but he is much higher, he is pure spirit and is tormented by a single regret. Die without ever knowing. His feet quickly change direction, while the awareness of not having enough time grows. He reaches the security door and opens it wide. Penelope is there, curled up on herself in an almost fetal position, her face covered with her hands and her hair's a little messy. For the first time, he doesn't give a damn about how she is dressed and her accessories. He no longer needs that spiel to stay. He observes her body shaken by sobs, hearing her groans of pain.

He clears his throat. -Garcia. What... Why are you crying?- she lifts her head, not masking the tracks. Big tears run across her cheeks. He stretches out his hand with the intention of drying them, but remains so, without completing the gesture.

However, she doesn't mind. -I'm... I'm just afraid.- she squeezes her hands until she cut herself with her fingernails and make blood come out. He doesn't seem to notice this either. A red spot adds to the colors of her dress. -I wish I hadn't found that damned address.- she confess. She certainly never held back as much as he did, but this, of course, is her moment of total openness. -I'm afraid something bad might happen to you all.- she adds, while the lower lip begins to tremble. Luke takes another step in her direction.

-You know it can happen every time we get out of here.- he points out, but his tone is low, calm, not to blame or as if to tell her to open her eyes and notice where they are. He is definitely late. If they don't wait for him, it must have been the fault of fate.

Penelope echoes him. He can no longer think of her as Garcia. Not only. -I know.- she hugs herself, but it is his arms that should comfort her. -Fears are not rational.- he nods. She stands up, taking off her glasses and wiping her face with a tissue. -What are you doing here? Aren't you going to leave?- she asks. She is trying to get rid of him. A step. Another. Another one. One more.

-Yeah.- he's practically on her. -I just needed to do one thing first.- he sees with the eyes of his mind Chrissie and his abuela cheering. -You never know.- he slowly approaches his face, lowering himself. She is hardly breathing, probably considers it more likely he is about to slap her, rather than what is about to happen. She finds partial confirmation when she sees him raise his hands, which however rest on her face, still wet and red. He scrutinizes her reaction for a moment, then nods to himself, bends over what little separates their lips and kisses her. He doesn't give her many seconds to kiss him back. Maybe he still has time to reach out to others. -I will come back and we’ll talk about it.- it sounds like a promise. It will be better for you, thinks Penelope, wearing headphones and preparing to play her part in this mission.

TAGS: @martinab26 @thinitta @shyladystudentfan @pegasus-scifichick @paperwalk @the-ellen-stuff @astressedwriter @symphonyashley @kofforever @myhollyhanna23 @tootsienoodles @centiaaa @penelopesluke @dumbdraws @onefail-at-atime @reidskitty13@adorarapril @princesstreaclefanfic @glocknade111-blog @magiunific @fallen-novak @dreatine @hopelessdayydreamer @racing-against-the-sunset @majo0803 @vickyd-2012 @writing-whats-that @wearejuststars@klngzeewp @heylittlehollywood @kirstenvangsness @blu3crush@futureperfectmedia-blog @jade-cheshire3303 @life-between-pages @tooshorttobeanadult @xxlonelyghostxx @honeydoodles @pennypeabody @alessiapolimeni @bbyxk @full-on-fangirl @catlynhoss05 @lushmp3 @glittergunshots @tinymiko @baby-i-am-fireproof @unpensieroabbandonato

#garvez #criminal minds #cm #penelope garcia #luke alvez #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #tara lewis #david rossi #spencer reid #o.c.#penelope x luke #luke x penelope #garcia x alvez #alvez x garcia #a.u.#tiziano ferro #amici per errore

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trickster-4 · 4 years

Text

Luz is Shabranigdo !?

Chapter 4

Sorry it’s been a while, this chapter was uncooperative.. Gonna take a nap..

“So Eda’s ancestor met me in Atlantis…” Luz sat down on a nearby stump. She felt herself struggling to smile.. It was a small light in comparison to the destruction that happened.. Yet, Eda the second closest thing she had to a mother and the most wonderful person she had met was born because of those past actions.. Who knows maybe there were other small lights? “She ended up becoming a witch.. “

“You know the Clawthorne Family has been a very prominent family.. History changing in fact…”

“Really?”

“Yup.. They were responsible for a lot of reformations..” Amity had a look of pride in her eyes.. Her eye’s grew a little sad as nostalgia grew in her thoughts.. She used to consider it an honor to study under Lilith.. “They broke down a lot of caste systems.. Put an end to a lot of insane laws.. People called them Heroes… Sadly much of their changes were undone by the rise of Emperor Belos.. But, when people think powerful witches from ancient history they tend to think Lina Inverse-Clawthorne..”

“I think I remember her..” Luz blushed at the memory of the most tsundere witch she could remember. “She and Gourry were so in love, but he was so dumb..” She laughed at the memory of their arguments, chases, and how they fought over food.. “It took a long time for him to actually realize that much less confess it..”

“Reaally?”

“Yeah it took end of the world nonsense..” Luz shook her head in utter disappointment at that kind of boneheaded ignorance. “You know.. I originally thought the reason I was.. punished was darker.. That I tried to destroy the world for the laughs...”

“Yeah I heard..” Amity gazed at Luz with concern and worry.. “Don’t forget we just saw that your soul was literally ripped apart seven ways.. Soul fragmentation can make people unstable.. Memories can get jumbled up even when the pieces go back when they’re supposed to be.. My guess is the memories of your punishment got mixed with the memories of your later fragments.”

“I hope there’s not gonna be anymore problems..”Luz turned away from Amity. This had been a harrowing experience and Eda had pushed Amity to go through it with her.. Letting her see all these issues.. It grated on certain learned instincts.

“Hey don’t worry Luz.. We’re with you.. Okay?”

“Okay..” Luz lit up again. She hugged Amity tightly before reaching into her pocket and pulled the bell. “Let’s go..” She rang it twice..

Seconds later…

Luz woke up to see Lilith chained with her staff currently lying in Eda’s grip. Amity got up not too soon after and a sour frown grew on her face..

“Lilith..”

“Amity..”

“You wanna run it by me how Luz was a threat to you and how that justified lethal force?”

“She’s the lord of darkness! Literally the source of all dark magic..”

“She was a fourteen year-old girl barely my age struggling with magic. No offense..”

“None taken..”

“And you had to the gall to kidnap her to threaten just to get an advantage over Eda. How is that civilized? How is that any better than how you say the wild witches were.. If her powers hadn’t woke up..”

“But, she didn’t die… Frankly I’m not certain anything could kill her..”

“You did all this to secure your place with a tyrant..”

“That’s treason..”

“Is it really treason if the civilization isn’t worth preserving? … eight hundred thousand people…”

“..Excuse me?” Lilith’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Amity with growing fear and desperation. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing her apprentice couldn’t know could she? “What are you talking about?”

“What does she mean Amity?”

“… Our population is dwindling Luz.. There are witches disappearing from time to time..” Amity pinned Lilith with a glare.. “Their palismans are taken, artifacts destroyed, and research burned.. He’s feeding on us isn’t he?”

“…..I won’t say another word..”

“Right because of your little collar..”

Everyone turned to look at Luz who was startled before rubbing the back of her head with an embarrassed smile.. “Ooh right sorry about that still have Atlantis on the brain.. The contract in her wrist reminds me of the sigil contracts the nobles used to use for their slaves… I mean the spell work is almost exactly alike… This is reaally uncomfortably for me now..”

“Wait you’re saying the coven system is based on Atlantean Slavery?”

“Basically? I mean think about it you can control any potential avenues for the middle class mages.. And keep them from being a potential threat by making them weaker..”

“In that case were would Lilith have been?” Eda grinned towards her sister eyes filled mischievous mirth

“A highly valued tutor or courtesan. Based on her limiters and tracking glyphs..”

“Courtesan?!” An infuriated Lilith growled.

“Limiter?!”

“Ha that’s rich imagine conservative Lilith as a courtesan..” Eda grinned as Lilith began to blush and fume.. She decided against pushing it any further given there kids in the room. “So not a noble?”

“I can’t really say Atlantean Witches were really weird about family lineage…” Luz had to resist the urge to facepalm. That ideology was so stupid.. Ceifeed had originally noticed a number of genetic illness arising from harmful genes.. He had repaired the damage, but complained about having to do it so often.. So he taught his priests how to fix the problems… Some people heard his words and went completely off the wall and started obsessing over linage and blood.. “If they knew about your ancestor originally being a human slave girl.. They’d get all twitchy.. That said no Nobles ever had them.. They were the only free mages who never wore such degrading things..”

“Ha looks like between you and me I’m the only nobility..” Eda laughed to herself.. “That said human ancestor?”

“Indeed please explain.”

“Edalin she was a first generation witch a real prodigy.. She was born human and acquired magic later in life..” Luz smiled as she thought fondly of the child. “Good kid glad to see she got to become a witch.”

“Wait Edalin the Uniter was a human slave girl?!” Lilith shouted with shock she suddenly felt lightheaded… And fainted..

“Uh Lilith?”

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“That used to happen to her a lot as kids..”

“Yeesh someone is a lightweight for heavy truths.” Luz shook her head with amusement.

“Yup.. By the way Amity your mom called I told you were spending some time with the dark lord doing some rituals here and she was welcome to pick you up but she backed off did for some strange reason..”

There was silence through the house. Amity looked afraid and worried. Her mom has come here to this place.. Her mother was always an unstoppable force of nature whenever she wanted to get something. It was the same with her father as well. Their way or no way.

“.. Uh Amity are your parents Ceifeed worshippers?” Luz questioned curiously.

“No they’re agnostic.. But, I think they may have seen your clash with Emperor Bellows so they definitely believe now…”

“Wait how would they have seen that?”

“Some activist group called anoma-witch broadcasted it on all our arcane transmissions… “ Amity smiled as she recalled the shock of her family. The twins had dropped their pancakes onto the floor Elmira cried shortly after.. Her father was aghast and shocked at the sheer gall of such an attack on the seat of their government. Her mother on the other hand she looked absolutely terrified.

“… Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Nooo!! I don’t want people using that spell!!!” Luz shouted in a panicked voice smashing her hand into the wall. She looked at the ground horrified remembering how that spell was gleefully and carelessly given to the Atlantean military branch who used to it conquer the surrounding nations.. She nearly started hyperventilating before Amity touched her shoulder.. Luz looked to Amity.. “Please tell me that words from that spell were scrubbed from the audio…”

“It actually was.. They must have known what would happen..”

“Thank goodness.. I can never use that spell again… It felt so right..” Luz looked horrified as she remembered how she felt in that moment that sadistic glee in her heart and the fear in Lilith’s eyes.. The thought of watching the life in her eyes drain away. She felt that dark magic wasn’t worth it.. “It’s so enticing, intoxicating, and I won’t use it again… And I don’t want anyone else to use it either..”

“Luz… You can’t be afraid of dark magic.. It’s literally half of all spells you use.. “ Amity invited Luz to sit with her.. Luz sighed before sitting next to the green haired witch.. “After the fall of Atlantis when the gods vanished.. Many of the the spells we witches used no longer functioned.. We were scared afraid that our powers would disappear one day yet they never did.. Magic persisted and grew stronger once more.. Eventually we discovered that much of your and Ceifeed’s energies had been infused in us and the earth.. And we learned how to mold and shape the magic you left us.. This is what mortal magic is… Yet despite it’s unpleasant origins it amazing and wonderful.. Dark magic your magic.. it’s half of what you love so much Luz.. You contributed to something wonderful so please don’t be afraid of it..”

“.. Yeah you’re right.. You know even at my worst when forced to I began to care for Edalin..” Luz perked up as she thought about all the friends that were supporting her throughout all of this. Willow, Gus, Eda, King, A-And Amity.. She looked at the green haired witch noting the gentleness and compassion.. “Thank you so much Amity..” She took of Amity tightly hugging her closely..

“You’re welcome..”

As the room was occupied with the drama no one noticed the flow of magic emanating from Lilith’s clothing. A quick concealment ward casted by the Emperor shielded his astral presence from detection.

“Well well Lilith you played your role magnificently. You were so terrified of me and concerned with warning your sister that you failed to notice the scrying sigils in your cloak..”Emperor Belos eyes glowed as he began to search for the Owl House for two things… He looked through the living room, before moving to the kitchen, and then through the various bedrooms. The Emperor would sigh in annoyance, as it turned out it seems the Owl lady kept the key on herself at all times.. But, on the other hand… The human’s device was left out on her desk.. “Little Luz you really must keep an eye on your personal effects like this.. “ He gingerly sunk a finger into the device and his mind began to tear through the meager password protection.. “Hmm Camilla Noceda..” Belos spent time his time reading through Luz’s texts learning what he could of her.

He began to laugh upon realizing that there was only one more thing necessary to force Luz into his plans.. A few minutes later he cut the connection from the scrying symbols.

The Emperor began to form a new spell using the evocative nature of Old Magic as a base for it.. “I call the one who brought forth the dawn. The one who tirelessly heals during the day and night. The blind one who does not understand the true nature of things..”

“Quaint..” Belos noted as a red circle began to form in the air before erupting into a portal.. It was unstable but it would last for his purposes.. “Let’s see..” He reached in and pulled hard retrieving a middle aged Dominican woman wearing a blue nurse’s outfit. “Ah now you must be Luz Noceda’s mother..” He smiled as a look of fear, recognition, and anger grew in the woman’s eyes at the mention of that name.

“Bastardo!! ¡¿Qué le hiciste a mi hija?!!” Camilla stopped speaking as the strange masked man began to shush her and she suddenly noticed how much bigger he was than her.. “What did you do to my daughter?! If you’ve hurt her!”

“I have done nothing of the sort, but I will if she doesn’t do exactly as I say..”

Meanwhile back at the Owl House…

Lilith woke up with a headache she was still in chains and her arms were getting pretty sore. She sighed and spun her fingers dematerializing the chains.

“Well done Lilith my faithful servant..”

“Emperor Belos… How are yo.. The Coven Brand..”

“Indeed.. You did just as I planned inform your sister and her apprentice that I have her mother..”

“Sir that’s..”

“Tell them that she will give me the key by midnight or I will have fun testing any number of lethal spells on human physiology..”

“….”

“Oh that reminds me by the way Lilith you’re fired. You can pick up anything you left behind here, but you’re no longer welcome to employment in my services.. Have fun doing whatever is you like to do in your spare time..”

“….” Lilith sat there in silence as the connection was severed.. She felt her world falling apart her hand shook as the coven glyph dissolved from her wrist. Years of sacrifice, constantly plotting, and countless hours of competing to stay at the top to be the Emperor’s most favored servant.. And this was her reward after giving him everything… A long distance banishment laced with false kindness.. Her head fell into her hands and she began to cry..

Eda Luz and Amity hearing Lilith crying approached her. They noticed she was free and Eda raised her staff, but then lowered it realizing that her tears were very much real. “Well this was awkward..”Eda really hoped this breakdown wasn’t about the deathhex she sent to Lilith’s mailbox..

“Uh Lilith?”

“I-I messed up… Belos told me I was free to go..” Lilith then slowly looked to Luz in fear.. “I never knew please believe I didn’t know..”

“What did you do?” Luz’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Lilith.

“… Belos placed several spells he was here seconds ago in astral form looking for the key.. He found the next best thing the location and name of your mother..”

“How?!”

“Even if that bonehead got that information it’s impossible for him to do anything with it..” Eda placed a calming hand on Luz’s shoulder. “Nothing will come of it.”

“You underestimate him Edalyn.” Lilith shook her head terror in her eyes. “Belos knows more about the ancient magic than most mortals.. He summoned your mother here..”

“How!! She’s not a mage, dragon, or demon?!” Luz couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her mother the woman who flinched during Halloween had a presence in the astral realm strong enough to be summoned.. How was that even possible!?

“She gave birth to you.. You are the source of all black magic.. And in order to give birth to you your mother was altered enough to survive your reemergence into this world. That’s enough magic for certain summoning rituals to work.”

“… I have to go..”

“Luz..”

“It’s my mother!!” Luz screamed.. Her eyes glowed red as she made her way to the door dark bat-like wings began to form on her back.. “I’m going to find her..”

“Stop..” Eda sighed at her apprentice’s foolish attitude.. This was a trap more than likely he was planning something the question is what.. “I’ll fly us it’ll give us time to discuss a plan.”

“Thank you Edalyn..” She gave her a relived hug her wings disappeared as they dissolved into shadow.. Luz let go slowly and began to look towards the door with worry and concern.

“Your welcome..” Edalyn reassured her apprentice gently as they all walked together towards the door.

Belos’s palace…

“Go to hell!”

“Ha.. Tell me do you know what your daughter really is?”

“I know that she’s a better person than you’ll ever be..”

“Perhaps it’s all a matter of perspective.. Shabranigdo the demon god of darkness and in the ancient world the lord of black magic and in the modern world the source of dark magic..” Belos gestured towards an ancient demonic statue with fangs, horns, wings, and ruby eyes. Camilla stared at the strange relic wondering what the ancient history of this old god had to do with her and her family. “She was one of the patron gods of ancient Atlantis and sunk it when it served it’s purpose.. It’s half of all magic part of the very fabric of our being. And I plan to control it..”

“.. What do your stories have to do with my daughter!?”

“Tell me was her birth troublesome? Where there sudden storms on that day? Did ash began to fall from the sky when it was finally over?”

“… Yes..” Camilla was stunned by this stranger listing the various events that surrounded Luz’s birth. “I don’t see what that has to do with..”

“All three occurrences are symptoms of a demonic birth.. Usually if there it’s one it’s a common demon.. two occurrence mean a demon of considerable strength. Three occurrences.. The demon god was prophesied to display all three symptoms on the hour of it’s rebirth with a human as the mother.. Shabranigdo the progenitor of the demon race..”

“… Are you saying my daughter is the devil?” Camilla scoffed.

“… To many people she would be such.. she is the original destroyer… Countless civilizations have been destroyed by the spells she created.. Such is her purpose and nature..”

“You’re insane..”

“Maybe..” Belos shrugged uncaringly. “It doesn’t mean I am not right.”

Outside Belos’s Palace…

Luz Noceda approached the Emperor’s Palace alone the numerous guards moved aside all while her very presence caused the Emperor’s various scrying spells to leave specific blank spots for her friends to exploit.. Numerous restrictive spells around Luz collapsed as she was wreathed in a crimson dark aura. Numerous Witches felt the malevolence from her and backed away in fear.. Several flowers around the palace began to crumble into ash as they aged at an accelerated rate…

Kikimora guarded the chamber the Emperor was waiting in for Luz. She shook at the sheer malevolence in Luz’s presence ancient instincts told her that this was her progenitor, her maker..

“Move aside speck..” Luz spoke with an old cruel authority in her voice ..

“.. M-My lord awaits you..” The demonic woman stuttered as she stepped aside and the door opened for the dark god.

As Luz stepped forward she sighed Amity, Eda, and Lilith would have to move fast.. Belos was powerful she could feel his presence.. It felt corrupted so twisted in a way a mortal could not be.. He was feeding on something powerful enough to give even the greatest of her old servants an impossible task.. And she was comparatively inexperienced, granted she had immeasurable knowledge as the lord of black magic, but Luz couldn’t use that knowledge reliably due to the emotional baggage.. However.. She extended a hand and imagined the fire glyph before drawing a crimson circle.. A powerful fireball grew in her palm..

“Perfect..” Luz Noceda stepped inside waking into the chamber. She began to notice two things, this room was dimly lit and that it wasn’t the throne room. Emperor Belos was seated in a chair at the end his eyes glowing blue menacingly. “Let my mother go!” She shouted with determination.

#luz is shabranigdo?!#the owl house amity #owl house #lumity #amity owl house #luz owl house #lilith owl house #eda the owl witch #eda owl house #crossover #fanfic #slayers

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ryan-spinel · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER TWO

“Perri's Letter and Spinel's Revenge”

It was another boring day at school. Today I avoided Steven and Connie, at least until things cool down. Now Perri and I are walking to her house, later going to see Lexi. I suggested we go right after school, but poor Perri had a meltdown when that phone addicted bitch Sophie teased her about liking Lexi. Saying “A spaz like you can't date someone like Lexi Joel. You have a better chance at hooking up with your catnapping psycho of a friend.”

I would have said “go fuck yourself and stuff your mouth with a dumb jocks cock.”But I kept silent to avoid more trouble. Even though she's a threat to my relationship with Steven, she went too far attacking my wittle buddy. After today, she will pay.

“So. How you feeling bud.” I comforted

“A little better Spinel, thank you, for walking with me.” Perri lamented

She didn't seem any better, so I stopped walking and placed my hands on her shoulders. She jolted a little bit, she does that when someone touches her without her knowing, I need to stop doing that.

“Perri, please don't worry about Sophie. She will never bother you again.” I reassured Perri

“You don't know that Spinel, you can't just make her disappear.” Perry doubted

The truth is I can, and I will.

“Just, please trust me okay. She won't hurt you anymore.” I asserted, starting to get annoyed

“I-,hmm. Okay Spinel, I trust you. Now can we please go to my place.” Perri faltered, noticing me getting annoyed.

Even though Perri and I been friends for a while, there were times I lost my shit. One time in elementary 5, Perri had this cute green alien head chewy. Back then Perri would chew on the collar of her shirt, so Brooklyn got it as an alternative. Later, a boy by the name of Ronaldo ask if he could play with it. Perri didn't say anything, she looked away from the fat little shit. He started to get annoyed and grabbed her arm. When I saw tears running down the poor kids face, I said. “Don't touch my fucking friend, she doesn't want to share. So piss of you bitch-ass comic book reading fat pussy.” After I stand up for my nerdy buddy, the little shit started to ball his eyes out. So I got detention for the weekend, and then Grandmother Whitney put a bar of soap in my mouth. She's an amazing Grandmother, but if you push her buttons she can be a mean old hag.

We finally arrive at Perri's place, it's a cute little cabin-like house. With a more rustic style unlike my home, a traditional Japanese minka. Once we walked to the door, we were greeted by the outgoing Brooklyn Fitzgerald. A fierce and friendly soul, who looks out for her friends. She works as a lumberjack at the local saw mill, fell in love with the stubborn lawyer Pearl Harpor and once one first place in the wood chopping competition at the county fair. Brooklyn was always that person you feel comfortable around, she is a great role-model for Perri and always wants the best for her. She's like the cool aunt I never had, and the only adult I feel comfortable around that isn't my family.

“How you doing kids, I made a tray of onigiri for an afternoon snack.” Brooklyn greeted

“Thanks mom, we're here just to get a bite to eat, spinel and I are going to a study group at the library.” Perri replied

Perri doesn't lie often, but she's surprisingly good at it. It's scary if you think about it.

“Well okay Perri, but remember. Always have your phone, come back home before six, and don't walk in Black Hawk Clan territory.” Brooklyn directed

“Well of course mom.” Perri acknowledged while to two of us walk inside

Their house interior was like one of the those shacks in the movie Friday the 13th. Brooklyn kept it very well maintained, she may be a lumberjack but she's a amazing carpenter.

“I'll be back Spinel, I'm just getting some things from my room.” Perri called, going to grab the letter

“Alright Perri.” I concurred while eating some homemade onigiri

“So, umm. Spins, how's Perri doing.” Brooklyn worried, she's not always the serious type. But when she is, you need to listen and shut up.

“She's, okay. Why do you ask?” I denied, having a good feeling what she's going to say.

“I got a call from the school, saying that Perri had a meltdown.” Brooklyn took a deep breath and continued. “Spinel, I know your aware that Perri is a little different than the other kids. She thinks in a different way and does things differently.” Brooklyn fretted

“I think you are aware of this Spinel, but Perri has Autism.” Brooklyn said looking that she's not finished speaking.

I was aware that Perri isn't like other kids, that why I like her. I love that she would ramble on and on about robotics, AI and Elon Musk. I love that she has that burning passion to expand her learning, even if it's just one topic. In a way, Perri's like a little sister to me. I love her because she's unique, not mediocre like those bimbos at school. She's her own person and doesn't follow a crowd.

“There were many incidents that kids would tease her because she's on the spectrum. They would tease her for being jumpy, they would pick on her because she wouldn't play with the other kids. And let's not forget the time a student grabbed her over a god damn chewie.” Brooklyn bawled, on the verge of tears. Even someone as strong as her can feel defeated sometimes.

“I'm scared spinel, I'm scared that my little girl will get herself hurt. After the diagnosis her father couldn't take it and left. Saying that he wanted a normal child with a normal life. Pearl has a hard time dealing with Perri sometimes, but she still cares about her. All I ask is Spinel, please look out for her.”

“Brook, things won't be like this forever. There's a lot of people with autism and live great lives. Overtime they grow and learn how to cope, Perri's still a kid. She's going to be an amazing person one day. Building robots or something. The point is that sometime people outgrow these problems, it's sometimes doesn't bother them or they cope with it. Your very lucky to have a daughter like Perri. You just have to remember that every successful person had those days that they want to give up. But they keep pushing until they reach their goals. Just like Perri.” I monotoned

“You maybe right Spins, Perri has been growing up. It just seems like yesterday she didn't need her chewy anymore.” Brooklyn hoped

“See, everything's going to be okay. Sophie won't bully her anymore, I promise.” I concluded

“Alright Spinel, lets go to the library now. ” Perri intrupted

“Be safe girls, look out for one another.”

It took us 30 minutes by bus to arrive at the Black Hawk clan's main nest, I don't know why they would call it a nest but whatever. Their nest was a giant old warehouse outside of town, it had a barbed wire fence all around the headquarters. Like those fences you see in prisons. There was a giant chain link fence for the entrance, two bikers were guarding it carrying AK-47s.

“Yo what the fuck, you can't be-, ohhhhhh. It's the catnapper. What business do you have with the Black Hawks.” Thug one marveled

“Is that what they're calling me now, it was psycho bitch last week. We don't what any trouble, we just want to see the road captain.”

“Wait are you talking about, Lex. Hah,well Spins, we can't let you just see the road captain. You have to talk to the founder first, she decides not us.” Thug two announced

“Oh for the love of god.” I whispered to myself

“Well, can we see. Fucking, Jasper or someone.” I badgered

These biker act so tough and fearless. But really, their just a bunch of leather-wearing douches.

“Ahhhhh, if it'll make you shut the fuck up then sure. ” thug one complained

The two annoyed thugs opened the gate, Perri and I walk cautiously into the nest.

Inside the warehouse wasn't any better than the outside. On the left side, there was a bar with tables, chairs and stolen arcade game machines. The right side was their business operation, with safes, factory equipment and a security system. Every biker gang has their source of income. It can be drugs,weapons, cigarettes or anything valuable on the yami-ichi.

The Black Hawks are the kingpins in the drug industry, but they don't just sell any type of drug. They created their own drug that is booming in the Japanese black market. It's called Menohoyō, meaning eye-candy in Japanese. Menohoyō is made just like regular eye-drops, because it is eye-drops. The only reason why it's addictive and illegal, is because it's made of 45% of diethylamide. A main chemical component to make LSD. There's been cases all across the world, reaching places like Brazil, United States and even Russia. There has been many gangs and drug cartels trying to replicate this drug, but all of them failed. Today, the Black Hawks dominate the drug industry, even bribing politicians to keep their business running. It's greasy business, that's why I want Lexi to get out when she still has the chance.

In front of us are the three masterminds of the whole operation.

Jasper Alder, the founder of the gang. Sitting on an old puke green recliner and smoking a five inch Pyramid cigar. She was born in Tokyo and was a target for bullying because she has vitiligo. Due to the bullying she became a mean bitch, once she broke a kids arm because she called her giraffe. Later in life, Jasper got into bodybuilding and motorcycles. Causing her to follow the wrong crowd. She got involved in a lot of crazy shit involving rival gangs. Once she turned twenty-three, she created the Black Hawk Clan. She called it that because one day, her father and her were hunting hawks. A giant common black hawk attacked her father and scratched his throat, causing him to bled to death in the middle of the woods. Jasper manage to shot the hawks wing and flew off. For three nights she was searching that hawk. Later found it on the ground near an old Japanese Wisteria. Jasper chose not to put the bird out of its misery, instead she watched it bled out for three minutes. So long story short, she's twenty-five and runs a drug cartel now.

On her left was the president of the clan, Eleanor Monsoon. She was Jasper right-hand gal, those two used to rob gas-stations when they were teens. Eleanor was also known for her great grandfather being in the Imperial guard divisions during WW2. That's where she gets her fierce comanding attitude.

On the right was the Vice President of the clan, Persephone Windsor. Nothing to special about her, all I can say is she's a snobby bitch born in a very rich family, she supply's most of the equipment and weapons. She's a narcissist and a manipulator who will destroy lives to get her way.

“(Puffing a smoke) Well, I didn't expect to see the pip-squeak and the catnapper today. ” Jasper snarled while inhaling on her cigar.

“Let me do the talking Perri, I got this.” I whispered to Perri

“Hi Jasper, hows the gang and so. Also can we talk to Lexi.” I urged, trying to convince the butch

“(Puffing a smoke). Well Spins, if you have business with the road captain you have business with me. Now spill the beans crazy.” Jasper chided

“It has nothing to do with.Business. We want to see Lexi, because-”

“Because I want to get to know her better, and hopefully she'll get out of this dirty, greasy motorcyclist club you call a business.” Perri interrupted me and dared Jasper

Thanks a lot Perri, we're fucked.

“How dare you, a worthless pest like you speaking to the founder like-” Persephone chastised

“Wait. Hold on your saying you want to hangout and bond, with the black hawk clan road captain. Out of all the nerds at your snobby school. You choose an angsty, hot-headed, with drugged up parents and possibly slept with more guys than you know how many bones are in the human body. So tell be spaz, what makes you think a nerd like you, can ever be with someone as fucked up as Lex. Because honestly, you can do better.” Jasper insulted

I saw that Perri was starting to get upset, but instead being sad, she got mad.

“You, you don't know anything. How dare you talk to someone like that, your not any better you, you, you f-f-fucking clod.” Perri exploded

It would take a tiny miracle to get us out of this shit.

However, the three bikers looked at each other with confusion. There was a silent pause, until.

“...............Haaaahahahahahahahaha.hhaaaaaaahaaahahahaahahahahhaaaahahah.” The three clan leaders burst with laughter

Perri expression turned back to sadness, trying to hold in her tears.

“Hahahaaahhaa, is,haha, is that the best you got tiny,hahhahaha. That's fucking pathetic, hahaha. Oh look at me, I WUV Lexi, hahaha.” Jasper mocked

I could see Perri starting to sob, I wanted to say something but that would be a suicide mission.

“Perri and Lexi sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-” the three clan leaders laughed and mocked

“What the fuck is happening, it's like a fucking circus in here. ” Lexi interrupted

Thank God she's here

“Perri, Spinel. What are you guys doing here.” Lexi gasped

“We were going to see you, until these donkey's stop us from doing so.” I explained

Lexi then turned her attention to the brainy-baby.

“Hey, hey, hey. Perri, my dude. I'm here, it's okay.” Lexi tried comforting Perri

“(Whimpering) it's good to see you again rockstar.” Perri sniffled

“It's good to see you to buddy.” Lexi sympathized

Lexi then turned her attention to the three douches

“What the fuck did you three do.” Lexi accused

“Lex, know your place. You do not bark at me, or I'm sending you back on the streets like the runt you are. ” Jasper retaliated

“Well I guess you have to put be back on the fucking streets, because no one talks to my friends like that.” Lexi condemned

It warms my cold heart to see Lex care so much for Perri, it's so sweet.

“Ah you fucking bitch, alright. You can see your, friend now.(inhaling on her cigar).” Jasper said in defeat

“Come on Perri, is there something you wanted to tell me.” Lexi adviced

“One second Lexi.” Perri protested

She turned her direction towards me, running up to me and giving me a hug. It was a tight hug, like a bear hug.

“You are the greatest friend in the world, I'm so lucky to have met you.” Perri chirped

I still didn't understand this platonic affection, this is the second time in a row, and I don't feel anything. My heart feels heavy and silent, there's no emotion. Why am I like this.

But to make her feel better, I hugged her back.

It lasted for 3 minutes, everyone in the warehouse was staring at us. But I didn't care, as long as she's happy.

She finally let go and walk towards Lexi, both of them waving goodbye to me. I guess it wasn't such a bad day after all.

“Hold on Spinel, just a minute.” Jasper asserted

I spoke to soon.

“Even though I'm letting your friend hang with the road captain, you still have to do something for me in return. ” Jasper decided

“Jasper. I can't be your drug mule.” I stated

“Don't worry your panties off, your not delivering drugs. I've chosen something that you may like. Do you know Sophie Turner.” Jasper explained

“What about her.”

“She hasn't been paying her IOU's for the Menohoyō's she's been buying for her parties. She keeps saying “My dad is rich, I'll get your money, stop bugging me, bla bla bla.” So because of her I'm losing money, she's my top buyer in Akuma no tochi. So what I need you to do is, take her out.” Jasper offered

Well isn't that pure irony.

“I think I can do that Jasper, but I'm going to need some equipment.” I demanded

“Sure, anything. You just can't tell the clan was involved.” Jasper added

“I need a hacksaw, trash bags, bleach, cleaning supplies, nails and the key to the saw mill.” I listed

“Done. Go to our SGT at arms, Ruth. She'll get you what you need. Remember Spinel, this never happened.” Jasper concluded

Once I reached the exit, a familiar voice called out for me.

“Spinel, Wait. I want to talk to you!”

Well what do you know, I thought Ryan was the last person who would talk to me here.

“Listen Spinel, I did some thinking and wanted to apologize about yesterday. I took my frustrations out on you, it was wrong. I should have never called you runner-tits, your a beautiful, smart girl. One day, some very lucky guy will meet you. I'm sorry.” Ryan apologized

I didn't expect someone like Ryan to say that, it took a lot of guts to admit something like that. I respect that.

“I forgive you Ryan, no hard feelings.”

“Thank you Spinel, I'll let you go now. But remember, the Black Hawks have your back.” Ryan thanked

“Your welcome, I'll see you around.”

It is time, time to give that bitch what she deserves. Good thing I didn't give all that birthday cake to the meow-meows.

I finally arrive to Sophie's place, no ones home but her. I have everything I need to silence her for good. And it all starts with a piece of cake.

I walked to her door and placed a small pink box on the doorstep. I knocked on the door and hid behind a bush.

“Hello, is some out there. Justin you better not be fucking with me.” Sophie cautioned

“Oh, what's this. (opens the box) aww, it's a piece of cake. I guess Justin isn't a dick after all. ”

Sophie picked up the cake from the box and went back inside, without locking the door. I quietly snuck in behind her, when I found out that she took the bait. I always make the best cakes, thanks to Momma. But for this special occasion, I added my secret ingredient.

I saw her take the first bite, then the second, and finally the third. Until she took her fourth bite.

“Mmmh mhhhh- ACK,ACK. Gahh. Barf.” Sophie said while gagging and puking blood

That's right, the secret ingredient os nails. I placed a couple of small nails in the sweet-treat, hoping it would tear her esophagus apart.

“Aww, did poor wittle Sophie bit off more than she could chew.” I teased her while kneeling down beside her.

“Who's a spaz now bitch. I would have came for your ass later. But you had to pick on my wittle buddy. That's one step to far.” I rasped

I looked at her in disgust while watching her struggle to breathe. This was the first human I ever killed, I'm tired of releasing my pain on cats. Taking them from their owners, putting them in a bag, and slamming that said bag onto the concrete floor! Who ever knew inflicting pain on someone like her can feel so, pleasurable. Reliving. The pure horror in their eyes fills my desire, my desire to butcher these whores that stand in my way. I shouldn't have done this sooner.

“ACK ACK ACK, gahh. Fuck youu, you psychotic cun-(pukes blood). Barf. Huff, puff, huff, puff. Huff...ack....ack...ack.........ah.” Sophie cried her last words.

“Just so you know, it's homemade not store bought.” I joked

Well that took longer than I expected. I had to saw her in ten part, bag them, clean the floor, bleach the floor, dispose any evidence, take the body parts to the saw mill and shred them up. I also had to burn my cloths as well, at least I brought a spare set. But it all ended smoothly. I got my revenge, and now only five more rivals to go. Perri can now see Lexi anytime, I hope they worked out, they'll make a cute couple. Even though school sucked ass at least it ended on a positive note. Now time to go home, and great my amazing famil-.

“Hey. Spinel.”

Okay who could that be.

I turned around wanting to know whose behind me. And oh fuck I wish didn't. This day was perfect for Perri and I, and she's the last person I wanted to see, God damn it!

“Hello Spinel”

“Hello. Connie.”

To be continued

#steven universe #spinel #not hate aloud or risk being blocked #stevinel #my cute little psychopath au #yandere #inspiration #im truly sorry for anyone who is senistive to swearing #spinel x steven #spineven #this may not be suitable for all viewers #2020 #my first fanfic #positive look on autism #actuallyautistic #redinstead #smoking #don't smoke kids #don't do drugs kids

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random-imagines-blog · 4 years

Text

In The Nightside of Eden {Rupert Grint x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: @h-a-j-i-m-e-ru Wordcount: 2301 Summary: After getting in a fight, you leave your husband to sleep on the couch. The next morning, you try to make it up to one another. Warnings: Like one swear word, I think? Super tame.

For a recently married couple, you and your husband didn’t have all that long of a honeymoon phase where everything was peachy keen. As it were, even your honeymoon wasn’t ideal because as an actor who had a role in one of the biggest franchises in the world, the paparazzi were hiding around every corner, taking pictures of the two of you taking a stroll through the beautiful city you had chosen as your destination. It was amazing when the two of you were alone but the adjustment from it just being the two of you, to it being the two of you plus some of the major Harry Potter fan groups, was a bit rough, and caused you to be stressed most of the time.Although it was a source of frustration, you wouldn’t change anything about your relationship with Rupert, because even though there were times of squabbling, he was still the man that you were madly in love with, and pledged to spend the rest of your life with.

“For God’s sake, just pick a color!” Rupert complained, looking at the bedroom wall with exasperation. You had painted a couple of samples on the wall, different shades of your favorite color, which he had agreed with, but he hadn’t expected you to still have problems choosing. “Y/N, it’s been a week since we primed, I’d like to be able to sleep in my own bedroom again.” Around him were the furnishings of the room, but they were all covered in tarp and old sheets so that they wouldn’t get paint dripped onto them.

“I would be more than happy to pick one, darling,” You said, grating your teeth, “if you would just give me an opinion on what one you like.”

“You know I don’t really care!” Rupert retorted back. “I think they all look the same anyway.”

“I think they all look the same,” You mimicked with your hands on your hips. “You know, these are the walls that we are going to wake up with everyday, it matters.”

“You are seriously going to make a big deal out of a paint color?” Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. However, you were thinking the same thing about him, and your facial expression said that all for you. Whilst you were staring at him, Rupert went to the wall, closed his eyes, and just laid his hand on one of the swatches. “You happy now? I pick this one, can we just fucking finish now?”

Your mouth dropped open as he swore at you. The fact that he used it in anger had taken you totally by surprise. “I can’t believe you, Rupert.” You pulled yourself together rather quickly, and left the room before you would say something that you might regret. How dare he? He swore sometimes when he was telling a story, or when he was frustrated with something, but that was the first time that he ever swore at you.

Before you could even make it to the living room, you heard the bedroom door slam shut. It startled you, making you jump, but you refused to look back, refused to give in to his anger. Over paint of all things! As you made your way into the living room, you thought about calling a friend, perhaps Emma or Evanna, and asking if you could spend the night there but you weren’t about to be kicked out of your own home. Rupert had put in the down-payment but you put just as much money into the mortgage and upkeep and decorating as he had.

Love seemed to be a common theme on the television shows that you flicked through, trying to find a distraction from your mood. You were laid out on the couch, head on one of the many pillows that you had bought in anticipation of a house of your own, pressing down on remote buttons to go through the many channels. Rupert didn’t come out of the bedroom, not that you had noticed, and you were grateful for that. You knew that things would be better in the morning, or at the very least, you hoped that they would. Sighing, you tried to think of how you were going to apologize for getting so overworked about something as dumb as a paint color. Maybe you would take him out for ice cream - that always seemed to make him happy, considering at one time he wanted to be an ice cream man.

Rupert was sitting on the bed, sheets still covering up the blankets, looking at the wall blankly. You had frustrated him beyond measure, that much was true, but he was to blame as much as you were. Nothing excused the fact that he had swore at you, and he did feel bad about that. Your face stayed in his mind, the way that you had looked at him - the shock, the sob that was probably trying to escape. He knew you so well.

After a little while longer, he got up and approached the wall where the paint samples were, and really did take a close look at them. He hoped that by finally making a decision instead of dragging his feet, you may be able to forgive him for the curse word. Even then though, he knew he had to do something more.

Rupert had to make a couple of trips to the closet and back, because he figured out what your inspiration was for these colors. It was your favorite sweater, hung up in a place of pride in the closet so you could easily grab it. He knew it was your favorite, and he loved that it was, because it was one of the first presents that he had ever bought you. He even went as far as to hold the sleeve against the different colors and try to figure out which shade was closest to the fabric. Your sweater matched one of them perfectly, so he noted down the name so he could go and get more of that paint in the morning. That was the problem solved - right?

“I’m finally done deciding-” He said, leaving the bedroom to go to the living room, but he stopped in the doorway. He instantly shut his mouth because he saw you curled up on the couch, the colors of the screen lighting up your face, your eyes closed. “I’m sorry,” He whispered, seeing that you were sleeping. “I’m so sorry.”

It didn’t wake you up, it didn’t even make you move in the slightest. That’s what proved to him that you were really sleeping, because you always seemed to react to his words while you were awake. At the very least, he hoped that you would have acknowledged them had you heard. Ah - well, time for all of that in the morning, he supposed.

The first thing that he did was click off the television, making the room dark once more. You weren’t as light as a feather, but Rupert had gotten used to holding you in his arms. He picked you up and carried you into bed the exact same way that he had carried you across the threshold of your home after your honeymoon. It was by instinct that you curled further into his chest, your face against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. So he himself was trapped when he set you down on the bed in the guest bedroom that the two of you had been using until this whole paint debacle was over, and he was forced into laying down with you. Maybe not so much forced - it was always a pleasure to be with you.

He lay in the bed, wishing that he could at least take his socks and jeans off, but with the way that you were holding him ... it seemed better to be fully dressed than to risk your rage at waking you up. He almost laughed at the thought of you getting grumpy with him for moving away from you when you had been the one to leave in the first place. And then he looked at the walls in the guest bedroom and groaned internally. That was going to be another argument, more than likely.

It didn’t take long for him to drift off though, even fully dressed.

After the sun rose, you started to wake up and realized that you were in the bedroom that you and Rupert had been sharing while your main bedroom was being redecorated. He must have carried you there, you realized, sometime after you had fallen asleep on the couch. “Rupe?” You asked, reaching behind you in the bed to see if he had joined you, but the space behind you was empty. It was rumpled though, so perhaps he had been there with you during the night and had woken up early.

It took you a bit of time to wake up - falling asleep with strong emotions always made you feel extra tired, and it was hard to get out of bed. The blankets were tucked around you, and your heart soared that even after an argument, he still cared enough to tuck you in properly. Many people wouldn’t have done that, certainly none of your exes. He was a good one, and you smiled at your wedding ring, just as you did every morning when you woke up, thankful for the life that you had been given.

Once you were up and awake though, you wandered through the house and found that it was empty. A look out the window showed that the car was gone, and you frowned out at the rainy morning. Even though you didn’t know where he had gone, you knew that he wouldn’t be long, or else he would have left a note. Rupert was usually very kind that way, and since there was nothing attached to the fridge, you figured he’d be back soon enough.

That was a good sign. If you started to cook breakfast now, he might even be back in time while it was still hot.

Before too long, you were humming as you cooked some of his favorites - bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, making a big, hearty breakfast to work as an apology for losing your cool the night before.

Rupert had woken up early. The sun was bleak behind the clouds, threatening rain, but it was still bright enough for him to know that it was indeed morning. You had rolled over during the night, your back against his chest, your hair tickling his nose, which he had to blow away to avoid sneezing on you. He managed to slide himself out of the bed without much problem, and snuck out, closing the door behind him so you wouldn’t be disturbed as he moved around, getting ready for his plan.

He stripped himself of his outfit from the day before and put on some lazy clothes, as well as a hat and sunglasses to try to be undercover. He loved the fans, he really did, but he just wanted to go and get the paint from the hardware store, and not have to stop and take a bunch of photos. He left the house quietly, locking the door behind him. When the car started up, the engine starting to purr, he winced, hoping that wasn’t enough to wake you up. He really did want this to be a surprise, and it would have been perfect if he could make it before you got out of bed.

The store was a bit busy, considering it was hardly nine o’clock in the morning and they had only been open for an hour. He had to stand in line to talk to the paint department, and by the time that he had finally left with a can in each hand, forty-five minutes had passed. When he got to his car, a couple of fans did see him, and he took the time to ask them how they are, take a couple of selfies, and wish them a good day.

He parked in the driveway, and made it through the front door without too much noise, but once he was inside, he saw that he shouldn’t have bothered. You were clearly awake, and the smell coming from the kitchen showed that you had been busy. Sausage and bacon were the two main scents that made their way into his nostrils, and his mouth started to water. He had skipped breakfast so that he could go and get the paints, and now he was absolutely starving.

He set the paints down by the door, and headed into the kitchen where you were watching the toaster, waiting for the toast to pop. Approaching you slowly, he put his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. You hummed happily as he swayed with you, showing both of your good moods.

“I’m sorry about -”

“I apologize for-”

You both started at the same time, then stopped, and laughed at each other. You were so in sync, it was amazing.

“I made your favorites,” You said with a grin, a flush upon your cheeks.

“I finally decided on a color and picked up the paint,” He told you with the same look.

“Thank you,” You said, leaning back against him. He kissed your temple then let go of you so you could finish up breakfast, and he could bring the paint to the bedroom for an afternoon of work. You watched him go with your heart beating fast.

God, you loved this man.

#Rupert Grint #Rupert Grint x reader #Rupert Grint oneshot #celebrity #celebrity oneshots #oneshots #oneshot #celebrities #celebrities oneshot #request #rupertg

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Not Your (soul)Mate {10/15}

Killian Jones doesn’t like the idea of soulmates. He sees how happy his friends are with theirs, but he still doesn’t like the idea, not when he’s found love and lost it time and time again only to still not know his sign. He has no markings on his skin, no voices in his head, but then one day he meets Emma Swan and everything changes. Because, well, he may not have ink on his skin to tell him who to love, but the very first time that he hears Emma’s voice he knows that she’s the one for him. Then again, that could simply be his desire talking. After all, for every word she speaks, he becomes aroused.

It’s not the worst thing in the world to be incredibly attracted to a beautiful woman, but things aren’t that simple when she doesn’t have any interest in being his soulmate.

He’s screwed. And not in the good way.

Rating: Mature

A/n: Will my posting schedule ever make sense? Probably not. Anyways, thanks for reading, my pals! You guys are the best, and I love love love you all for loving this story and these two crazy people💜

Thank you to @captainsjedi for her love and support and artwork!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @initiala @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @emmas-storybook @searchingwardrobes @spartanguard @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @xellewoods @thejollyroger-writer @galaxyzxstark @cssns

-/-

No part of her understands why their cable bill is mailed to her. They’re a cable company. They provide TV and internet and yet they’ve never heard of paperless online billing. It’s ridiculous. And yet the minute she’s late with her payment she gets an increasingly nasty series of emails that shows they obviously know how to use the internet. And since Storybrooke Cable is the only company that provides internet in a sixty-mile radius, it’s not like they don’t have the funds to set up a website. Hell, she’ll take a class and learn how to program the website for them if she has to.

Well, probably not. That’s all a little dramatic, but she really hates having to go down to the mailboxes in the basement to get her mail so that she can go upstairs and write a check and buy a stamp to mail the payment in. It’s not the biggest deal in the world, but she hates it.

She obviously would not have lasted in a world without internet.

The old stairs creak beneath her, a sound that she’s used to when she’s carrying her laundry downstairs (it’s how she knows when she’s on the unsteady step since usually she can’t see over the full height of her clothes which is what procrastination gets her), and she quickly descends downstairs to the row of mailboxes that rest against the wall in front of the washing machines and dryers that work at least ninety percent of the time.

She and Belle need to move to a nicer place. They can afford it, but then again, if Belle moves, it’ll probably be with Will. It’s a constant thought every time Emma thinks about it, so she never quite works up the courage to bring up moving somewhere else. This place is just fine, they’ve made it their home, and so what if she has to walk to a bit of a creepy place to get her mail to pay her cable bill. It’s not like anyone in this town is actually going to do something to her.

They’d have hell to pay.

The stairs could use a little work, though, maybe a few new light fixtures for the hallways too.

Pulling out her key, she twists it in her box, opening it and grabbing the few envelopes that lay flat against the metal. She closes the box, locking it back up, and as she walks up the stairs, she shuffles through the mail, tripping on a loose board as she sees neat black script inked across the white in the upper left corner.

Killian Jones.

What the hell?

What the hell is he doing sending her a letter? Even though her toe is still stinging from how she jammed it, the pain worse than some of her injuries she’s gotten on the job, she stops in the middle of the staircase and rips the letter open.

Dear Emma Swan,

You’ll have to forgive me because it’s been awhile since I’ve written a letter that’s not an e-mail. I’ve been told by a rather reliable source that it’s a bit old-fashioned to write like this, but I do like a bit of a challenge. So, Swan, I’m sitting at my desk writing you a letter on stationary that Ariel found me and with my very favorite pen. And while I don’t expect you to write back, I have included several stamps to encourage you. You wouldn’t want me to waste money, now would you?

Anyways, I find myself wondering about you because you intrigue me. There are things I’d like to know. For instance, how long have you been a secret nerd watching the History Channel and National Geographic? I, for one, have been a fan for years. It’s fascinating to learn about things that have happened in the past. What other interests do you have? Do you enjoy sports? Read any good books lately? What is your ultimate favorite baked good? Do you like cooking them yourself? Are you one of those people who have a favorite flower? I am partial to sunflowers over roses, preferring the brightness of yellow, but then again, there are yellow roses.

I’m simply but a curious man who enjoys knowing the answers to my questions, and in return, you can feel free to ask me anything you want. I’d even tell you what kind of underwear I wear since you seem to be averse to answering that particular question.

Sincerely,

Killian A. Jones

“Oh my God,” she mumbles, scanning over the words one more time before opening up the envelope to see several stamps with pictures of sailboats on them.

A part of her absolutely cannot believe that he wrote her a freaking letter, but then again, she’s not really shocked. That’s exactly something that he would do just to annoy her, and the fact that he included stamps is really over the top. She’s not going to complain. She needs stamps, but damn, the man is persistent.

But she’s not going to write him back.

Absolutely not.

She folds his letter back up and puts it in the envelope before walking up the rest of the stairs and turning in the stairwell so she can get back to her floor, quickly moving into her apartment to write a check so she can send off the cable bill before she gets to work this morning. Belle is still sleeping, so she tries to stay quiet as she grabs her purse and walks right back out the door, all of her mail in the front pocket of her purse.

All day she ignores the letter that seems to be burning a hole through the leather material of her purse that’s hidden under her desk, but it’s more of an attempt at ignoring it than actually ignoring it, because when David leaves to go question a fight that broke out down by the pier, she grabs a piece of paper out of the printer and starts writing something back.

Damn it. Has she lost control of her limbs?

Jones,

You’re ridiculous. Seriously. I can’t believe you took our texts as a challenge, but then again, it is you. I have no idea why I’m writing you back, but you did say that I could ask you any question I want, and, well, I simply can’t pass up that opportunity.

So tell me, what is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you? And spare no detail.

Sincerely,

Emma Swan.

PS: I am a mean ping pong player, and I agree with you about the roses. If you’re looking for a good book recommendation, though, I suggest Belle. She gives me all of mine.

Oh, and bear claws.

And I want to know what the A in your name stands for.

Quickly, she stuffs the paper in an envelope, seals it, writes his address on it, places a stamp in the corner, and puts it in the mailbox outside of the station so that she literally can’t take it back without tampering with federal law. She’ll bend a lot of rules, but she’s not going to break federal law over something as dumb as a letter.

Two days later, she gets a letter back. There’s no formal address this time, and she kind of likes that…not that she likes this.

Really went straight for the kill then, eh Swan? It took me a bit to remember what exactly my most embarrassing memory is, simply because I’m so suave that I don’t have many embarrassing moments.

However, when I was a young lad of twenty-three, I had the night off and left base to go out to a pub with a few of my mates. This was something we did often, something we’d done for our five years together, but on this particular night I indulged in a few too many glasses of rum. My tolerance wasn’t quite what it is now, even if I do wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck now, and while I don’t remember the night but in a few glances (particularly me telling the lasses that I was the Captain when I was not), I do remember waking up in the flat of a woman I didn’t know without my clothes anywhere in sight. Either she stole them, my mates somehow stole them, or something else happened, but my options to get home were either walking in the streets of Birkenhead in the nude or wearing this lass’s mother’s nightgown. It was this billowing, flowery thing, and while I fully believe I can wear anything I want, let’s just say my actual Captain did not take too kindly to me walking back onto base in something that was not approved. I was written up three times for one incident, and I’d just like you to imagine me having to explain why to my superiors why I was wearing a nightgown when I had no idea myself.

I have to say, though, nightgowns are quite comfortable. Lots of air to breathe. It’s likely a good thing that my mates thought it would be funny to buy me a nightgown when I was promoted. It was much more my taste. Silk is wonderful, though I don’t think I ever wore it. I much prefer my briefs.

So, there’s a story of one of the brightest moments of my youth, and while I’m sure you’ll somehow use it to torture me, it’s yours to know.

My middle name is, Andrew, by the way, and the lovely Belle has recommended me to The Guest Book as reading material. It’s rather good. Feel free to borrow my copy if you’d like. Speaking of Belle, I hear Mr. French makes rather delectable bear claws, but he’s in a fierce rivalry with Mrs. Lucas over who makes the best. Personally, I think they’re using pastries as a bit of foreplay, but that’s simply a theory from an observer.

Now, Swan, I’ve metaphorically shown you mine, so you should show me yours.

Have a good week,

Killian Andrew Jones.

Emma doesn’t realize it, but by the time she’s finished reading the letter, she’s got tears streaming down her face, just a few of them, from laughing at the thought of Killian running around in a nightgown. That’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard, but for some reason, she has no issue imagining him walking into base in a flowery nightgown that hits at his knees and shows off all of the hair on his legs with the shoulders being a little tight. It’s ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, and she’s glad that Belle is still at the library so that she doesn’t ask what in the world Emma is laughing at.

It would be a little hard to explain.

Well, not really, but she doesn’t want to explain. Because her explaining any of this would make her have to explain other things, and since Belle already knows that Killian sent her the basket of baked goods months ago. So it would be too difficult to explain her...having to explain. This is kind of like some sort of bad inception.

But Belle’s not even here, so it definitely doesn’t matter.

While she’s still laughing, she gets up from the table and heads to the kitchen, grabbing a wine glass out of the cabinets and pouring her a glass of the wine that she and Belle didn’t finish drinking last night. If she’s going to spend her time writing letters to Killian, which is a ridiculous concept in and of itself, she should at least have some alcohol in her.

Not enough to make her have to wake up without clothes and have to borrow an ugly nightgown from the mother of the person she’d slept with but some alcohol all the same.

She doesn’t have any paper here, so she has to shuffle through some of the old notebooks Belle keeps on their bookshelves, and takes out a lined page from the back, settling down on the couch with her wine and paper and pin while Drain the Oceans plays on the TV.

Killian Andrew (Asshole) Jones,

I’ve added the “asshole” because I really did think that was your middle name. You did say you would respond to it, but I guess Andrew is okay. Is that a family name? Your father’s maybe? I don’t have a middle name, didn’t even have a last name, only my first, but I’ve always kind of thought it would be something classic since my first name is.

Shit. I just got wine on the paper. Oops.

So you and that rum, huh? You seem to be a fan of it. And also nightgowns. Are you sure you don’t sleep in one of those? Is that why you don’t have a girlfriend? You scare them all away with your nightgown. I imagine it makes easy access to...things, so really, they should like it better than the briefs. It’s just a great mystery that may never be solved.

Granny’s bear claws are better than Mr. French’s hands down, but Mr. French has better pastries overall. Plus, he’s like my dad, so you implying that they have a thing going on is really kind of freaking me out. I bet Granny wears a nightgown, though, which makes my earlier joke about easy access so much creepier.

Some things simply shouldn’t be imagined. But if you’re going to, make sure to tell Ruby to scar her for life.

I haven’t read that book, but if Belle recommends it, it must be good. I’ll have to check it out. I’ve been very into historical romances lately, which isn’t really on par for me, but there’s simply something about Jane Austen, you know?

Thanks for telling me your most embarrassing story. You’re right. I’m totally going to use that against you, and no, I will not tell you my most embarrassing story. It involves karaoke, though, so it’s a good one.

Emma

If she hadn’t had the wine, she probably would have realized that she revealed a bit too much in her letter, but after she seals it that night and sends it off in the morning, still using the sailboat stamps Killian provided, she doesn’t think about it.

Not at all.

What she does think about is the fact that eight days go by without a new letter. She didn’t even realize that she wanted another letter, that she got a weird sense of excitement over them, until she wasn’t receiving one in her mailbox.

Who has she turned into that she’s checking her mailbox daily?

What decade is this?

But her week has gone by as normal, spending her days at work, reveling in the hour break she gets to eat lunch with David or Ariel, and her evenings at home, sometimes with Belle, sometimes not. On Saturday she, Ruby, Belle, Mary Margaret, and Ariel all spent the day at the beach, waking up early enough to beat all of the tourists there, and settled down with blankets and umbrellas with bags full of food and a cooler full of drinks. They didn’t bother moving, not unless to dip into the ocean to cool themselves off or to run up to the pier to use the restroom, and even if her eyes constantly trailed down to the pier to look at the fleet of ships and boats and what not resting outside of the Jones’ office.

And if her eyes kept checking her texts even if most everyone she spoke to was already there, no one had to know. Though she does think that Ruby noticed.

She wasn’t very subtle in her desperation.

But she didn’t see him, not that she wanted to, and she tried to push it all to the back of her mind to enjoy the day as the sun beat down on her skin so that she got the slightest bit of a tan that she hopes stays with her until the fall.

Okay, so she thinks about the lack of a letter a lot.

However, she wasn’t thinking about it when she was driving home from work, but now that she’s standing next to the door of her apartment with Will holding a stack of their mail, it’s all she can think about.

Shit.

Why didn’t it occur to her that she and Belle share a mailbox and that Belle could see one of these letters? How could she have missed that?

“Hey,” she cautiously greets, placing her keys down, the clanging loud in her ears, on the table and stepping further into the room, “I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.”

“Belle and I are going to dinner. Why do you have a letter from Jones?”

“Huh?” she asks, trying to keep her voice steady even though her heart is beating wildly in her chest, the sound louder than it has been in a long time. She can feel it all the way down to her toes. “I have a letter?”

Will raises his eyebrow, obviously not believing her, and as casually as she can, she steps forward and takes the letter from Will, stuffing it away in the back pocket of her jeans.

“So where are you guys going for dinner?” Emma asks to change the subject.

“Eric’s place. He gives me a discount.”

“Ah, yes, because everyone wants discount fish.”

“Oi, it’s not like he’s giving us the old fish.”

“So you think. If you guys die in a few days, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“We’ll be dead, and you’ll be bragging about it.”

“Exactly.” She steps around Will and sits down on the couch, reaching down to unlace her boots and kick them off. “I guess I’ll miss you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Emma,” Belle shouts, and Emma leans her head back to look down the hall to see Belle standing in the hallway, “can I borrow those teal heels that you wore last week?”

“Yeah, they’re in my bathroom.”

Belle doesn’t say anything back, but less than a minute she comes into their living room wearing the teal heels and a little black dress, fluffing out her hair over her shoulders while Will grabs his coat off the chair, stepping up to her and kissing her cheek, whispering something that Emma doesn’t pick up on, which is good. It’s private, and she doesn’t need to hear things about their private life.

Her hearing thing has been wonky lately anyways. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.

“We probably won’t be back until late,” Belle tells her, and Emma reaches her hand up over the couch to let Belle grab onto it. “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”

“Nah, you two go have fun. Don’t do anything that I’ll have to investigate.”

“Well, that just takes all of the fun away.”

After the two of them leave, she leans up on the couch and pulls the later out of her back pocket, hoping that Will forgets about it and doesn’t mention it to Belle, and quickly opens the sealed envelope, her nerves running over every inch of her skin and making her fingers shake the slightest bit as she straightens the creases out of the paper.

Emma,

I apologize for my late reply, but you seem to have caught me at a bad time. I had a client call and request a refurbishment on his seafaring vessel (his words, not mine), and I’ve been consumed with it. I love this job. It’s a way to keep me connected to the ocean, a place where I spent so much of my life, but this is different. And it certainly didn’t help that my wrist decided to act up a bit this week. It’s the weather and all.

Regardless, I do wish you would have told me your most embarrassing story. I feel like it’s a real ice breaker, and I love karaoke....if I’m drunk. But then again, bad things seem to happen when I’m drunk. So wine? That’s your vice? I always took you more as a tequila or whiskey type, but then again, I’m learning that I know very little about you, love. Though, I like that it’s changing a bit, if I may be so bold.

Jane Austen is bloody brilliant, and it’s nice to hear of someone else appreciating her. Mr. Darcy and I have a lot in common, you know? I, too, screw up with strong-willed women and then have to realize the error of my ways to have them allow me back into their lives. Or, at least, I hope. Tell me, if you’re a fan of historical romances, how are you not a fan of letter writing when that is such a core piece of the story? Is it simply that you don’t like modern day letter writing because it, for practical reasons, doesn’t make any sense? We could have had this entire conversation in ten minutes, but it’s taken eight days. Yet, this is a bit more fun, even though talking to you does incite other kinds of fun.

As to my middle name, it’s my mother’s maiden name. My father’s name is Brennan, and the only thing I carry from him is the Jones name, which is likely a good thing. He wasn’t a good man. He was a drunk, and he abandoned us when I was ten. I’m proud to be a Jones because of my brother and my mum, so like you, I suspect that my last name carries a weight that most don’t.

Anyways, that’s much too much information about me. Tell me, Swan, there’s a Summer Regatta coming up in two weeks. Do you think you’ll be at the festival? I know someone who can get you a free ride on a boat.

Killian.

He’s got a screwed up family too.

That’s what she gets out of all of that. It’s not that he loves the same books that she does, not that he correctly guessed her drinking vices, not that he practically invited her to be his date to the regatta in over Labor Day weekend. It’s the fact that he has a screwed up family, a drunk deadbeat dad and a dead mom. She knew his family life wasn’t great, if only because Elsa never mentions having to take the kids to go see Liam’s parents.

Huh.

She can kind of see it now, can see that he is a bit of an orphan too, and even though he had parents, it breaks her heart. No one should ever have to grow up without having people love them, and she’s thankful that Killian had Liam and their mom. That’s a nice thing for them to have a family, even if it’s not what most people would call complete.

Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s the fact that she suddenly understands Killian in a way that she knows only a few people can, but she pulls out her phone and lets her fingers move without thinking about it too much.

Emma: So not a fan of karaoke then? Is your voice that bad?

The three dots pop up almost immediately after she presses send only for them to disappear, only coming back every few seconds. He’s either trying to think of what to say or realized that he’s texting back incredibly fast. It’s nice to know some things never change.

Killian: For someone who is incredibly attracted to my voice, that’s a bold thing for you to suggest.

Emma: Touché.

Emma: So it’s not bad then?

Killian: I’ve been told that it’s actually pretty good, but I find that karaoke does nothing but bring embarrassment unless you’ve been drinking all day.

Emma: Okay, but say you have…what’s your go-to song?

Kilian: Easy. Anything Elton John. He’s so easy to understand.

Emma: You’re kidding, right?

Killian: Nope.

He definitely has to be kidding.

Emma: I figured you’d be more of a Queen or Beatles guy. I’m pretty partial to Queen.

Killian: Well, I could do those too. Or pretty much anything from the eighties. I feel old, but I don��t know a lot of the new songs.

Emma: That’s because you are old.

Killian: Being older than you doesn’t make old. And as you can tell, I’ve retained my youthful glow.

Emma: Sure, we’ll call it that.

She takes another sip of her wine and turns the volume up a bit on the television so that she’s not simply staring at her phone waiting for him to text her back. That’d be pathetic. Then again, she’s sitting at home drinking wine and watching the History Channel while her roommate is out on a date. That could be considered pathetic. Or very, very smart depending on who is asked.

Killian: What are you up to tonight, love?

Emma: Watching Drain the Ocean, though I’ll be honest and say I have no idea what’s going on.

Emma: You?

Killian: The same, actually.

Emma: Creepy.

Killian: Believe it or not, I think we have similar taste in television shows.

Emma: Ugh, I know. I can’t believe I have so much in common with an old man.

Killian: If you keep flattering a man like this, he might get the impression that you like him.

Emma: Never.

Emma: At least we don’t like the same foods. Unless you secretly like junk food.

Killian: I enjoy certain kinds, but I don’t think I have the same propensity for grilled cheese, onion rings, and bear claws like you do.

Emma: I also like poptarts and brownies. Oooh and lots of icing.

Killian: You’re a child.

Emma: Oh, come on. You don’t like icing?

Killian: If there’s cake attached, yeah.

Emma: No, no. You’ve got this all wrong. Straight out of the can.

Killian: You also eat raw cookie dough, don’t you?

Emma: Duh.

Killian: I do like cookies, though. And mostly pastries that involve fruit. It makes it all feel a little healthier.

Emma: You’re in shape. I think you’ve got the healthy thing down.

Killian: I knew you liked staring at my ass.

Emma: I said nothing about your ass.

Killian: Just my general body then? The abs? The biceps? My collarbone? What about my left ankle? You’re into period romances. I bet the left ankle really does it for you.

“Oh my God,” she mutters to herself, putting her glass down on the coffee table and standing from the couch, smiling to herself as she reads the message and walks to the kitchen. He’s such an idiot.

Such an idiot.

And now she really wants something sweet to eat, so she presses up on her toes and gets a can of chocolate icing out of the pantry popping open the top and grabbing a spoon out of the drawer so she can at least be a little civilized about the whole thing. Without putting much thought into it, she holds the spoon full of icing up to her mouth and takes a quick picture, not checking to see what she looks like before sending it to Killian.

Emma: See? This is the way to eat sweets.

The three dots pop up before they disappear just like before, and she doesn’t really have time to think about it before the front door is swinging open and Belle is walking inside, an obviously bright red flush on her pale cheeks.

“I’m engaged,” she squeals, holding her left hand up as she walks into the apartment, a small diamond ring resting there.

“What?” Emma gasps, nearly choking on her icing before she puts the spoon and the container down, running her tongue over her teeth to wipe up all of the excess icing. “You’re engaged?”

“Yes! Will asked at dinner. Oh my gosh. You know, I always swore I wouldn’t be one of those girls, but I did the thing where I put my hands over my mouth when he got down on one knee.”

“Of course you did,” she laughs, reaching forward and wrapping Belle up in a hug, squeezing her as tightly as she can while she sees Will walk into the apartment, bags of takeout in his hands and a smile on his face that tells Emma he’s just as happy as Belle is. Good. They deserve all of the happiness. “I’m so damn happy for you. Both of you.”

“And you’ll be so much happier when you know that I brought you earplugs for tonight,” Will tells her when she hugs him.

“That is so gross.”

“I’m simply trying to be helpful.”

“Babe,” Belle laughs, walking over to the two of them and leaning into Will to press a kiss into his cheek, “stop grossing Emma out and give me five minutes to tell her what happened before we can let her put the earplugs into use.”

“Nope, nope, no,” she refuses, putting her hands in the air, “you guys just go. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Perfect.”

“Please ignore him.”

“I promise you I’m trying.”

Will and Belle go back to their room, and she takes the opportunity to grab her phone, her icing, and plant herself in front of the television, turning to volume up so that she doesn’t have to risk hearing anything else. Tonight will probably be the night that her weird hearing thing picks up again.

She is so damn happy for the two of them, a bit of a buzz of happiness spreading over her skin, but she can’t help the little voice in her head that wonders what’s next for her if the two of them are getting married.

She hates that she thinks that.

Her phone dings, and she looks down at it, forgetting that she was texting Killian before Belle and Will came home.

How long were they texting for her friends to get engaged during that time? That’s…a lot of time. Did it really all go by that quickly? She didn’t even notice.

Killian: I mean, there’s definitely something sweet in that picture that I’d like to eat.

Emma chuckles under her breath, unable to help herself, especially when accompanying the text is a picture of him holding a banana over half of his face, the scars on his wrist and the chain around his neck visible even in the dimness of his apartment. And damn it. This was not supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

She likes Killian Jones.

#Not Your (soul)Mate #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #Captain Swan

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