#there are still two drawings left for this event- one ASAP and the other will still take time

[million-golden-drachmas]

𝖯𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗅 𝖡𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗈 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦 by @percy-and-rachel-events (late entry) 🔹𝖧𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁

A twist to the original 'meme' where Percy calls Rachel a good girl for saving him with that dam blue plastic hairbrush.

Does this even qualify as an entry for the Hairbrush prompt tho😅?

[swiftsaltsweet]

Two Knives Chapter 2: Kyoshi- Responsibility and a New Promise

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: “Ok so I finish chapter 1, now I’ll try to get chapter 2 done ASAP for next week :D” *gets possessed and cranks out 5 more chapters* ……………………ok y’all are getting this early o.o …..I may have scared myself with how fast I made these ;w; jaskldfjal 8U

__________________

The deadline for the Fifth Nation meeting was quickly drawing nearer. Everyone told her that it would be fine and there was nothing to worry about. Just stand there and be your usual, unnoticeable self!

Jianzhu apparently had gotten her a battle outfit to protect her. She would consider it thoughtful, and would’ve been happy…. If it wasn’t for the fact she knew he and Yun fought over her tagging along.

It was very apparent Jianzhu wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but he caved into Yun’s desire because he loved him. The same couldn’t go for the other “Kyoshi shouldn’t be coming with us” party member. 

Rangi had been, and still was, very vocal about Kyoshi not going. She’d never seen her friend so agitated in the two years they’d known each other.

She was even giving the Avatar a hard time!

“Are you disobeying your Avatar?” Yun asked during one of their repeated bouts. Each time he lost a little of his playfulness and it devolved more into a resigned sigh.

“No. I’m just voicing an opinion,” Rangi answered.

“Well I’m ignoring it.”

“Shame, it’s the only smart thing being said around here,” she shrugged nonchalantly. But her stomps as she left Kyoshi and Yun behind betrayed her demeanor.

Yun and Kyoshi could only stare wide-eyed at her as she left.

“She’s never talked back like that before,” Yun stared in amazement. The three would usually let loose when they were alone, but Rangi never acted that insubordinate towards him. Well no, that wasn’t accurate, she’d never acted insubordinate ever, the worst she did was maybe give him a slightly hard time.

“Maybe she’s just stressed?” Kyoshi offered. Kyoshi was feeling stressed as well. Between her poem and the whole Fifth Nation thing, she was having a hard time sleeping at night. It didn’t help that Rangi was acting strangely on top of it all. “Maybe I shouldn’t go?”

“No! No, please, I need you to go,” Yun grabbed Kyoshi’s hand pleadingly.

Kyoshi playfully swatted it away. “Alright, alright, calm down.”

Yun sighed, relieved. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe she is stressed….”

“Because of the Fifth Nation?” Kyoshi asked. Maybe he had some insight about Rangi, the girl had been mostly avoiding her for the past few days. And if she wasn’t, she was uncharacteristically silent. She didn’t even reprimand her when Kyoshi was late one day!

 “No I think it’s because of-” he stopped himself and glanced at Kyoshi. “I mean, yes I think that’s it.” 

Kyoshi drummed her fingers on her knee, not buying his tone. She couldn't help but wonder if both of her friends were hiding something from her.

_________

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The rain outside had been tapping at her window for hours now.

Tomorrow was the day. The day they’d fly and sail out to meet with the Fifth Nation, and Kyoshi couldn’t sleep. Her eyes felt like they were being pried open by some external force. That external force being her own anxiety. Wait, maybe that was something more internal? Great, another thing to think about and keep her up!

She tossed and turned, but nothing could settle the earthquake inside her being. 

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

If only the rain would stop, maybe then she’d feel more restful?

Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap.

Great now the rain is picking up. She thought.

Tap. Tap. Tap. TAP TAP TAP!

Kyoshi shot up out of bed. That wasn’t the rain, that was her door!

W-who could be here at this hour? She thought as she grabbed her night robe and threw it on over her sleep clothes. 

When she opened the door, she was met with something both familiar and unfamiliar. It was Rangi, but she wasn’t in her usual spiked armor. Instead she sported a sleeveless white tunic and her red trousers. It was strange seeing her like this, the spikes had almost felt like they were a part of Rangi. It was hard to separate the two.

For once, Kyoshi was able to see how well defined her muscles were, now that the shell had been stripped away. As well as the curves that were once hidden as well-

Kyoshi shot her eyes to Rangi’s face as fast as possible, to keep herself from ogling at her. 

Rangi bore the same stern expression, looked Kyoshi up and down once, and then looked away. 

“Rangi, what’s going on-gah!” 

Rangi shoved something into Kyoshi’s arms. “To protect your hands…” She mumbled. Then she promptly turned and walked away.

Kyoshi stared after her until her figure had turned the corner and left. Then she finally looked down at what Rangi had given her. It was a box. 

Kyoshi slowly opened the present, inside there was a pair of high quality leather gauntlets. The sight of them caused Kyoshi’s throat to sting, and her chest to heat up.

She closed the door to her room, and held the gloves close to her chest, as she finally and slowly drifted away into a shallow sleep.

_____

Kyoshi was a bundle of nerves. Being surrounded by so many daofei set her on edge. Well, it’d set anyone on edge she’d suppose. She wondered if Yun and Rangi were as nervous as she felt. Rangi seemed perfectly composed, yet intimidating, as usual. Yun was working his charm with a nice fake smile. 

Kyoshi looked around and saw all the “servants” that were sneaking in and out. They were the kidnapped villagers. 

Kyoshi started to violently shake looking at all the hostages. Then she looked at her food, and wondered if it had been poisoned. It took all her effort to keep her breath quiet and even.

Rangi was right, she shouldn’t have come. She was nothing more than a liability. What was she thinking? 

She couldn’t bear to turn to Rangi, who was seated next to her. Couldn’t bear to look her in the eye and see Rangi respond with an “I told you so.” 

So instead, she sat there shaking. On the verge of hyperventilating.

Until she felt something warm clasp her hand. 

Kyoshi looked down, it was Rangi's hand, laying over top of hers. Kyoshi could feel pulses of warmth coming through her double layers of gloves, the top being generic snow gloves and the bottom layer being the ones Rangi gave her.

Kyoshi found the courage to look at Rangi's face, and instead of seeing the same stoic expression or one of reprimand…. She saw concern. Just slightly, only softened just enough for Kyoshi to notice.

Rangi squeezed Kyoshi's hand once. Stay strong. 

Kyoshi's response was to readjust her fingers so that they would interlace, hoping to be completely entangled by the warmth. By the courage Rangi was sending to her.

She thought she heard a small gasp come from Rangi, but at that moment there was a big uproar of cheers coming from Yun's pai sho section.

Kyoshi and Rangi turned their attention back to the party, hand in hand. They stayed like that….. 

Until Takaga decided to air Kuruk’s team's dirty laundry.

_________________

Kyoshi found herself in a new form of torture. Rangi was helping Kyoshi strip her armor off. Or really Rangi was doing it all herself, while Kyoshi stood there like a lump on a log. 

It probably wouldn't have bothered Kyoshi too much in any other circumstance, but Rangi was wearing a thin cotton shift and her hair was down for once. Which meant that Kyoshi could see a lot more of her body than she could previously.

She could see every flex Rangi's muscle made as she removed each armor piece. She could see how her hair waterfall off and caressed her strong shoulders. How the cotton clothing hugged her-

“You can't sleep in that get up. Especially not the armor,” Rangi said. Kyoshi barely registered the words, she found herself too busy gawking at Rangi’s figure.

“Shouldn't you be sleeping with Yun?” Kyoshi asked, not really thinking of how she was phrasing her question.

Rangi’s head turned so fast she almost snapped her own neck. 

“You know what I mean,” Kyoshi said.

The redness faded from Rangi’s ears as quickly as it came. “The Avatar and Master Jianzhu are reviewing strategy. Master Amak only ever sleeps in ten-minute intervals throughout the day, so he and the most experienced guardsmen will keep watch. The order is that everyone else should be well-rested for tomorrow.”

The duo settled beneath their furs. They laid there in silence, Kyoshi unable to fall asleep due to the sound of Rangi's breathing. She was so close. And the heat she radiated under the shared blanket was so warm. She tried to keep her body still, afraid of it moving closer towards her friend than she should, but found herself shifting every so often.  

She needed a distraction, and right as she was about to ramble about what Tagaka had said about their family, Rangi spoke up.

“Why didn't you listen?” Rangi whispered.

“What?” Kyoshi's eyes widened and chanced turning over. She stared at Rangi’s back, she wasn't sure if she heard her correctly.

“Why didn't you listen to me?” Rangi repeated, just a little louder this time.

Kyoshi settled to lay back on her back and stared up at the tent's ceiling. She didn’t have an answer that she knew Rangi wouldn’t call “stupid.” That she made a promise to Yun first. That she was afraid she wouldn’t see Rangi again, and was willing to put her life at risk to get as much time with her as possible. You know, totally normal friend things.

And she really didn’t want Rangi to say “I told you so,”..... so she decided to play dumb instead. “I don't know what you mean.” 

Something soft hit her in the face. Kyoshi looked over when the object was removed from her field of view, Rangi had hit her in the face with her pillow. Kyoshi's breath hitched when she realized their faces were only a few inches apart.

Rangi raised her pillow to strike again. “You know what I mean! Don't act like you only have rocks in that head of yours!”

Staring at Rangi’s disgruntled face, and her apparently thinking a pillow fight was the best way to punish Kyoshi….. Well… Kyoshi couldn't help the burble of laughter that escaped her lips. It only got louder when Rangi hit her again.

“I-it's not funny!” Rangi cried as she kept hitting Kyoshi with the pillow. Kyoshi just laughed harder with each hit.

“S-stop it!” Kyoshi cried, laughing with tears in her eyes. She reached over to grab the pillow from Rangi's hand.

“K-Kyoshi! Stop it!” Kyoshi felt Rangi grab hold of the front of her lapel and attempted to push her, but Kyoshi already had the pillow in her hand.

Kyoshi laughed. “But you're the one who…started…it.” In the tussle, her and Rangi had gotten closer, they were now nose to nose. Eyes boring into each other. Their breathing tickled each other's faces. Rangi’s flowery scent overtook Kyoshi's senses and she was starting to lose herself in it.

“Kyoshi….” Rangi murmured. Her face was red, and her eyes shifted away from Kyoshi's, shifted downwards.

Ashamed? Uncomfortable? Kyoshi couldn’t tell why she broke the eye contact. Kyoshi gulped, her heart was in overdrive. There was no way this was good for her health.

Kyoshi felt Rangi's grasp on her and the pillow loosen, and Kyoshi took her opportunity to turn back over, hugging her side of the sleeping quarters as much as possible.

“W-woops! S-sorry about that,” she tried to play it off nonchalantly, like a coward. “Sorry for messing around, we should get to sleep. Big day tomorrow!” Her voice shook, she knew her voice shook. But it was the best she could do to keep her cool. 

She laid there for a good while, and wondered if Rangi had fallen asleep.

Then, Kyoshi felt two hands and a forehead press up against her back. “You have my pillow, stupid.”

Kyoshi snapped her arm and threw the pillow back to Rangi’s side. She must've overshot it or something, because Rangi didn't make a move for it. Instead, she could feel the firebender snuggle closer into Kyoshi’s back, her knees bumping against the back of Kyoshi’s own; and then the rest of her body melded into her shortly after. Rangi’s breathing slowed to a crawl, until Kyoshi was sure she'd fallen asleep. 

Kyoshi did not move, afraid of disturbing the sleeping girl pressed up against her, who surely had a lapse in judgment. Instead she enjoyed the way Rangi’s body heated her own, and a different kind of warmth settled in her stomach and chest and that didn’t originate from the hearth that was next to her.

Kyoshi didn't go cold that night, nor did she get any sleep.

____

Kyoshi took a hard tumble down the iceberg’s mountainous terrain. She had just gotten free of a waterbender who tried to pull her down into the iceberg, but they hadn’t made their hole big enough for her. So she was able to break free with a swift kick to the face. Unfortunately, when she broke free she fell over the side of the icy cliff.

Kyoshi wobbled as she stood up, she saw Tagaka with Yun, he was encased in ice. A wave of fury rolled over here. Kelsang was injured, Yun was kidnapped, and Rangi……she didn’t want to think about what happened to Rangi. Unlike Kyoshi, Rangi, and a lot of the other soldiers had been pulled down into the iceberg by the waterbenders. Kyoshi tried to tell herself that she was fine, she’d make it out of the iceberg. She was Rangi, she could do anything! Plus, she was with Hei-Ran and Jianzhu. Surely she would be fine….. Right?

Kyoshi shook her head. Right now, all she saw was the woman who was the cause of all her grief. And she would make her pay.

“Give him back,” Kyoshi gasped. She gripped her side with one hand, and had the other extended out. As if trying to reach for Yun despite his distance. 

Tagaka put a boot on the ice encasing Yun, and leaned on her knee. “The colossus speaks,” she said, smiling. She watched patiently as Kyoshi slowly staggered towards her. For someone who was wary of Kyoshi’s height at first, she seemed well at ease now that Kyoshi was injured. 

Kyoshi swore at the pain in her body, the tumble she took down the iceberg had hurt her more than she thought. But it was nothing, Yun meant more to the world than her cracked ribs. Her fingers flexed instinctively towards Yun, and felt a pull. 

“Give him back. Now.” She meant to sound angry and desperate, but instead she came across as pitiful and hopeless as she felt inside. She wasn’t sure if Yun could breathe in there. Kelsang had gotten hurt because of Tagaka’s ice spikes too. She wasn’t sure if Rangi was alive…..

Rage was swelling inside her. This woman was taking everything she held dear.

“Eh,” Takaga said, looking down at Yun. “I saw what I needed to see in the boy’s eyes. He’s worth more as a hostage than an Avatar, trust me.” She made a motion to shove Yun off the side with her foot, but was stopped by a concussive blow to the face. 

Kyoshi didn’t know how she did it, but while Tagaka had briefly looked away, Kyoshi had found the energy to close the distance between them and landed a dirty blow on the daofei. 

Kyoshi followed up the punch by tackling Tagaka to the ground, and proceeded to unleash a barrage of punches. They were so powerful it was almost like a shockwave, it blew apart her snow gloves, only the leather gauntlets beneath could withstand the blows. The blows sent cracks through the ice both under Tagaka and in Yun’s prison.

“What-guh- are you?” Tagaka gasped through a brief reprieve where Kyoshi's fists landed on her shoulders rather than her face. Kyoshi’s response was her own gasping breath as she didn’t let up.

Kyoshi felt a glow of light flash over her eyes, and the prison next to Yun burst open with a glow of its own. He’d figured out a way to waterbend out of his prison. 

Yun briefly looked at Kyoshi but his attention had quickly been captured by some of Tagaka’s nearby men. Kyoshi didn’t take her attention off of Tagaka for one second. This time, each hit felt like the earth was shaking beneath her. A push every time she brought her fist down, a pull everytime she brought it back. 

Yun used the rock glove, what little earth he had, to fend off the oncoming attackers. He dropped down into a deep stance, and pushed his earth out at his targets as hard as he could while Kyoshi raised her fist back for another big blow against Tagaka. Just as the two earthbenders enacted their next move, the earth shook with the intensity of the earthquake, and sheets of the seabed rose up from the sea. 

Several ships were taken out, but a lot of the remaining ships maneuver their way around the sudden rocky terrain. 

Kyosh brought her fist down onto Tagaka, but ended up whiffing the air instead as she felt a water whip hit her in the side. It knocked her a few feet away and Kyoshi hit the ground hard.

For a moment, she thought maybe Tagaka had done it to her, but when Kyoshi looked back, she realized it was one of Tagaka’s guards who’d somehow snuck by Yun. The man raised his arms and water over his head, the water turning into an ice spike, and aimed it at Kyoshi.

Kyoshi tried to rise to her feet, but felt overwhelming exhaustion as she attempted to do so, her limbs falling dead beside her. All she could do was look up, and wait for her head to join them.

“Kyoshi!” heard a familiar voice cry out to her. A giant fireball stopped the waterbender in his tracks and knocked him back. Rangi had come to the rescue. Just in time for Kyoshi’s vision to start to waver, and the cold to seep into her, as well as relief.

“You did good, kid,” said a man with a husky voice and an accent like Master Amak’s. “They’ll be telling stories about this for a long time.”

Kyoshi tried to turn, afraid another waterbender had snuck up on her, but the effort was too great for her. Her eyes became heavy as she sunk down into the ice. The last thing she saw was Rangi’s bleeding face as she came running to her, screaming her name over and over. 

___________________

It was warm. Way too warm for it to be the iceberg she was on. Kyoshi opened her eyes to see a familiar brown ceiling. She was back in Yokoya.

“Kyoshi!” A familiar voice cried. Rangi’s face came into view. “You're awake! Are you feeling alright?”

Her face was creased with worry, she had a gourd in her hand.

Kyoshi tried to speak but all that came out was a rasp. Rangi instantly put the gord to Kyoshi's lips.

“What happened?” She asked when she finally felt she'd be able to speak without coughing. “Where's Yun?”

She could have sworn he had been freed, but if his personal bodyguard was here then maybe-

“He's fine,” Rangi replied in a sullen tone. “Master Jianzhu and my mother are with him. He’s plenty guarded. Yun ordered me to be here to make sure you were alright.”

Kyoshi figured Rangi was upset that she got booted out here, stuck with Kyoshi, unable to perform her real duties.

“Sorry, you should be with him instead of me.” Guilt rose inside Kyoshi. She’d been nothing but trouble for Rangi since this whole mess started. She wondered how she was ever going to repay her friend.

“Yeah you better be sorry,” she stood up from her chair. “Think of yourself for a change!” She was yelling at Kyoshi now.

Kyoshi stared at her wide eyed. 

“You've been asleep for three days, Kyoshi! Three days! Do you know how worried I was?” Rangi’s chest heaved as her voice wavered. 

“I-I’m sorry!” Was all Kyoshi could strangle out under Rangi’s heated gaze.

“I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up!” her voice cracked, and tears were welling in her eyes as she collapsed back in her chair. “How could you be so reckless?”

Kyoshi felt dizzy, the change in Rangi’s emotions over the past few weeks had been too drastic and it was too soon after waking up. She scrambled to sit up more, and leaned over and cupped Rangi’s cheek with a hand, forgetting if she was violating Fire Nation decorum or not.

“Oh….” Rangi gasped, as Kyoshi wiped the tears from her eye. She brought one of her own hands up to hold Kyoshi’s hand in place, as she closed her eyes and leaned into the touch.

“Rangi, I’m sorry,” Kyoshi started. “You were right, I shouldn’t have gone. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”

Rangi made a sharp noise as she inhaled, and moved her head to the side so Kyoshi's hand covered her mouth. “T-take responsibility, you idiot!” she sobbed.

Kyoshi’s eyes swirled, she didn’t know what Rangi meant by that, but decided to roll with it. “A-alright…. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, without question!”

Another sharp inhalation. “You promise?” She finally opened her tear-filled eyes and looked at Kyoshi.

“Promise,” Kyoshi said, smiling at her…and the other three Rangi’s that somehow joined.

Kyoshi’s head suddenly felt very heavy, and she briefly wondered if she had gotten up too fast. She didn’t really have time to think as her head hit the pillow, and she heard Rangi calling her name again.

_____________________

A/N: I know I wrote out the “Let’s talk about your mom’s murders! :D” scene ;w; I didn’t want to, but I needed to add the other convo in (even though Rangi didn’t get her answer) and it just wouldn’t have flowed if I tried to squeeze both in. Hopefully we can get that convo in at a later date :’D

Anyway, fun fact! This was supposed to be chapter one! :’D The Tagaka scene was the first thing I wrote, then after Kyoshi collapsed it was supposed to be a flashback/dream of when she sang the poem, and then it ends with her waking up with Rangi next to her (and the intent of hinting that Rangi heard the poem).......and then I changed how I wanted things to go! :D I like the new order but….yeah…. Fun fact! 8U

[mcalhenwrites]

Another life update, and the news is not... wonderful? It's not bad, it was kind of expected. I was covering two of three shifts that the guy who was let go at the other store usually worked. I took Tues/Fri, and left Mon for rest. I typically plan most of my dr appts around the days I work. I already work weekends. I took those two days so my boss didn't have to work the front desk, but she was still looking to hire someone. We're both grateful to one another, since it freed her up and gave me extra hours. Anyway, she told me Tue she'd interviewed someone and she seemed like a really cool fit. She is being hired on! Which is excellent, but I will lose one of my days. I still get to keep one tho! I've admittedly been stretched thin, and if I'm going to help the baker around the holidays, less time at the front desk will keep me from overworking. That said, financially, I can't really afford to not work every second of every day, and frankly sleep and the need for food are massive and expensive inconveniences. (And I'm sure I still wouldn't make enough to survive.) Anyhow, I'm okay with this for self-care reasons, and I'm going to keep focusing on writing in-between moving out, the surgery, and dr appts. ^^ I was so tired I wasn't even able to bother feeding myself for several meals. Between the fear and anxiety about my uncertain future that is ever-present, a lack of finances, and needing to pack asap so all kitchen stuff is now in boxes (I owned almost all of it and only left out my lunch box for work and a spoon I use for lunches), I haven't... really been eating much at all. Or I'll grab something on my way to work/home from work at gas stations and fast food places. Luckily, I did start rewriting Where the Lanterns Glow in a shorter form, and it will be 100% absolutely smutty as fuck (it originally started as an erotica that grew in plot), but I'm working more on the untitled Henry/Warren thing. I'm also working on stuff for a vendor event, and ofc I have rewards - I'm drawing Monarch again for my $10 tier. ^^ Wish me luck, and again, if you can boost my posts about my books and commissions and everything, I'd be really grateful for the help. I am doing my best here, but it feels like my life is always "good things come just so I can lose them" and I still stupidly hoped it wouldn't when it finally felt like I was working my way out of rock bottom. I told Yume that it feels like I'm always still failing, even when I have accomplished things. It's just so hard when the rocks tumble out of the wall I'm climbing and smack me in the head as soon as my ass hits the bottom again.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

Alex was vexed.

Alex was beyond vexed, actually. She should be on her way to the OB's clinic with her wife, right now. But instead, she's stuck in Lena Luthor's ivory tower tracking down stupid xenophobic goons relying on her little sister to bring her wife to an OB appointment on time. And to top it all off, she finds out said sister has been keeping shit from her! Okay, fine she's not really entirely mad about that. Kara has her own life and boundaries are healthy, she gets that. But today, it just seems like Kara keeping something from her is the big cosmic cherry atop Alex’s ice cream of a shitty day.

It’s been thirty minutes since her last message and Kara still hasn’t texted back. The way Alex's eyes widened when she read Kara’s wrong send, must’ve looked like when cartoon characters' eyes on TV bulge out in exaggerated shock.

She’s on the fiftieth “WHO IS IT? JUST TELL ME!!” message to Kara when Nia strolls in, humming, all cheery and dandy—not even an anti-alien arms dealer can get in the way of her delight with her new Dreamer suit, it seems. It makes Alex want to punch the cheeriness out of her. She tries to take a deep calming breath, that absolutely does not help at all.

Kelly hasn't replied to her either. She was itching to call her but felt like she'd be nagging more than helping. They did just get off the phone about an hour ago after all. Kelly repeatedly reassuring Alex that it's absolutely fine and yes, she understands and yes, she knows Kara will be picking her up and Alex, just calm down. Who can blame her though? This is their child they're talking about.

Alex tries to put her phone down and attempts to rein it in but Nia stops to address Alex's rigid posture with a wave of her hand.

“Hey, Alex— whoa, what’s with the whole grumpy face?”

“Look. At. This.”

The words are grinded through her teeth as Alex twitching hands hold out her phone for Nia to read.

Nia gasps.

“Oh! She’s seeing someone?!”

“Looks like it,” Alex says, slumping herself onto Lena’s chair.

“Wait—who? How did we not know?! Kara doesn’t know how to keep secrets!” Nia throws her hands in disbelief.

That was right! She doesn’t know how to keep secrets! (Except maybe for the 4 years she was lying to Lena, but that’s got to do with Luthor’s denial too somewhat so...doesn’t really count.)

But back on the situation at hand, Nia was right! This was the girl who tried to tape a drawing of a unicorn to their childhood bedroom, as pathetic attempt to cover up a fist-sized hole in the wall from Eliza. This was the one that Cat Grant cracked down after approximately 2.5 seconds of her debuting as Supergirl. How the fuck did she manage to keep something from Alex?

She sighs, “I thought so too. Kara owes me a gossip session.”

“Us,” Nia corrects, “She owes us a gossip session, ooh and maybe an expensive bottle of wine, too.”

Nia starts to pace in thought in front of her, “Who do you think it is though?”

“I don’t know," Alex mumbles, "Have you seen someone hovering around CatCo?”

Nia gives her a shake of her head.

“You think it’s Andrea?”

“Negative. I already asked her if it was Andrea.”

Nia stops pacing, puts a hand on her hip and the other under her chin, “Well, it can’t have been someone she only met recently, right? I mean- They’re already at the ‘I love you’ stage! It must be someone we already know.”

Well, Nia isn’t wrong but that can’t entirely be true either. Her sister is the kind of person to fall easily. She's seen it firsthand. This girl- guy? Person? Can be somebody she met yesterday at Noonan’s and Kara would totally claim that she’s in love with them. It really isn’t much of an impossibility, this was the person who wrote about “Soul Mates, Sparks and Serendipity” for CatCo’s Valentine’s issue two years ago, for God’s sake.

Alex scoffs, “Knowing Kara, she probably confessed her undying love six minutes into the 2nd date.”

Nia snorts, “True. Maybe it's—" Nia trails off then gasps.

"Do you think Lena knows who it is? She must, right?”

“I doubt. If she didn’t tell me then why would she tell Lena?”

Nia shrugs, “I dunno, she tells Lena everything.”

Alex narrows her eyes at that statement. She will not rise up to that bait, she will not.

“Kara, tells me everything."

"Well, apparently not."

Alex inhales deep, lets that one pass with a roll of her eyes. The conversation with Nia is a welcome distraction from the overwhelming urge to check her phone again for Kelly or better yet just call her throughout the entirety of the whole appointment.

"Where is Luthor anyways?”

She asks instead, brain trying to chant, Kelly will be fine. Kara will make sure she's fine. So her kid will be fine. Everything will be fine. And then you are going to interrogate Kara until she tells you who this new person is. Yes. Okay, okay. That sounds better.

“Oh, she said she’s goi-”

Nia is interrupted by the familiar click of heels.

“Aaaand here she is,” Nia drawls out as she whips around gesturing to Lena who comes into view.

“Hey, do you know who-”

“Miss Luthor!”

Nia doesn't get the question out; interrupted by Jess who comes in scurrying after her boss.

“Hold that thought,” Lena quickly mutters to Nia with a smile, before turning to face her assistant, “What is it, Jess?”

“Obsidian is requesting to move the private audience with you on Thurs— Friday. Which makes it an issue because you already agreed that the charity event be held on Friday. And then Mr. Arquete also said to tell you that he needs the proposal ASAP or else he’ll be withdrawing. And finally, R&D is also requesting another meeting later at 6. Something about the new interns?”

“Is that all?” Lena sighs out, rubbing her knuckles against her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Tell Andrea Rojas that I’ll kill her if she keeps pushing this meeting back. I’ll see her on Saturday. And fine, give Arquete the contract. His wife just divorced him, his threats are useless anyway. And then tell R&D I’ll be down after I finish with this mess."

This is one of the best things Alex admires about Lena, she’s the ruthless take-no-shit leader who calculates everything in a split second, even it took Alex a few months before getting the hang of the whole DEO director thing. But Lena seems to be a natural. She tunes out the rest of Lena’s conversation with Jess as she spins round and round in the chair.

“Do you think she’ll tell me if I ask?” Nia whispers, eyes not meeting Alex's, fingers flying through her phone already dialing Kara’s number.

“Can’t hurt to try,” Alex shrugs absentmindedly.

“Can’t believe she calls them ‘babe’, though,” Nia mutters bringing the phone to her ears.

“Can’t believe she didn’t tell me, Nia.”

There is a hierarchy of gossip when it comes to their circle. Alex at the top because, well, because she’s Alex— she knows everything. Then comes Kelly, because if you need a secret kept it’s Kelly you go to. Then you have Nia, because for some reason the youngest person on their team somehow has all the resources to help you. It was frightening at first to learn the long list of contacts Nia has on her phone, very essential to both being Dreamer and a CatCo journalist. And then you tell Lena, the newest addition who is just as efficient as Nia. Although, her ways are more intimidating and a lot more expensive than the former. And finally the last person, the one on the bottom tier, the absolute last person you tell the gossip to—emphasis on absolute—is Kara.

Because once Kara knows, the whole world knows. She’s as bad as Brainy. Actually no, even Brainy can keep a secret sometimes.

It’s a miracle that Kara has the rest of the world convinced she doesn’t moonlight as National City’s resident superhero. That, Alex thinks, is one of the most impressive things her sister has ever pulled.

Nia still has her phone to her ear when Lena finally turns to them.

“Nia, what were you—“ but then she immediately turns around again, calling out loudly, “Oh, wait Jess! Move the R&D meeting to 5 tomorrow. I have to sign off early today. I have dinner with Kara at 7.”

I have dinner with Kara at 7.

Alex’s ears hone in on what Lena just said. Realization dawning on her. Nia whips around to face Alex, eyes wide, jaw open, hand slowly lowering to terminate the call.

Alex was wearing the same expression.

A dinner with Kara.

Lena Luthor was having dinner with Kara.

At 7.

I’ll pick you up at 7. Love you, babe.

OF FUCKING COURSE!

Distantly, it registers to her that Jess has now left the office and Lena is speaking again.

“Right, so-”

Lena doesn't even get to finish because two people scream at her at the same time.

“YOU’RE BABE!!”

[vannybarber]

The Prenup: Part Two

Summary: After four years of being together and finally being engaged, Chris wants you to sign a prenup.

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, chris getting his ass handed to him, a lot of pain.

Part One

Walking down the isle, you grab everything that looks remotely pleasing in sight. After you left the house, you were just driving nowhere. Having to refill your tank because you wasted all the gas, the crackhead at the station kept singing Mambo Number 5 and it made you feel slightly better. Now you were in the convenience store spending your feelings away.

You get to the pain pills and grab some Aleve. Your head has been thumping for hours now. You see a pink box and knock a couple of those in the basket too just because they're pink. Whipping over to the candy isle, you grab multiple bags of Starburst jelly beans just to spite Chris because you know he loves them. Moments later, your basket it full and you head to the front.

Tipping the basket, you dump all the contents on the counter. The cashier gives you this look and you don't blame her. You had 3 bags of jellybeans, 5 random candy bars, 2 pink boxes you still can't read out, a blue Mountain Dew, a dog toy and some Doritos. Absolutely random. The cashier scans all the junk food, but when she gets to the pink boxes, she look up at you and at your left hand.

You're in a daze, so you don't see her looking at you. Your mind was all over the place and frankly, you didn't want to think about any of the latest events. Not the prenup. Not the engagement. Not Chris. Snapping into reality, you pay for your groceries and take all the bags and walk out the store.

On the drive to the hotel, you pass the park where you and Chris met. That didn't help with your predicament at all.

Dodger had gotten off his leash because he was so excited to finally have a home. You were with your niece. She is so obsessed with dogs and wanted to meet every one. Dodger spotted her and pounced on her, giving infinite kisses.

Chris was freaking out. His dog just pounced on a two year old child.

You, on the other hand, were laughing your ass off. Your niece wasn't complaining either because she kissed him back.

He apologized profusely and you guaranteed him it was okay. You guys hung out for the rest of the day and decided to go on another date, without the kids. One date lead to many others and soon enough you'd met his whole family, vice versa, and started living with him. It was unreal.

And here you are infront of a hotel, with no ring or engagement and your fianceé almost an hour away. Oh, how the tables have turned.

You get out and receive your room key. You head up to your room and set everything down. You were so tired and worn out. Getting comfortable in the bed, you knock out almost immediately.

Meanwhile, back at your house, it's pure chaos.

"Chris do you realize what the fuck you just did?"

Scott is practically screaming at his brother, pacing around the room.

"Scott can you fucking chill? You're not helping the situation" Chris snapped back at him. Scott stops and stares at him like he's an idiot.

"We wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for your stupid choices. Tell him Ma!" He looks at her to back him up. Lisa stands up from her seat and walks over to Chris.

"Now Scott, Chris is a grown man. He can handle this situation, right honey?" Her hands are on both his shoulders, looking for him to respond.

"There you go. You always do this! You always baby him up whenever he's in trouble." He rolls his eyes. Lisa draws back from Chris.

"No, I do not. I let all of you sort out your own issues, with my advice of course. Shanna, Carly, do I baby your brother?" Chris throws his head back in annoyance.

"Um, yeah kinda.."

"Sometimes...Ma, but not all the time of course"

They say at the same time. They hated to admit it but when it came to Chris, she mostly got him out his problems. He's not used to solving them on his own. Lisa utters incoherent words in disbelief.

"That's not important right now. My fianceé just called off our engagement and I don't know where she is!" Chris interrupts, getting everyone back into focus.

"Technically she's not your fianceé if she called the engagement off, but it's whatever..." Scott mumbles with his hands up. Chris shoots him a 'fuck off look'.

"Well have you tried calling her?" Carly asks him.

"Yes, but she's not picking up. She can hold quite the grudge when it comes to her feelings." And he was right. You were very protective of your feelings and anything to harm that will be shut down ASAP.

"Well we just have to hope that she is trusting her better judgment and will come back, unlike someone in the room" Scott says sarcastically turning and sitting on the couch. Chris smacks his lips.

"Scott that's enough!" Lisa snaps.

"Well he deserves everything he's getting! He put himself in this situation. Now he doesn't have a wife and he's miserable. Could never be me."

Chris had enough. He moved quickly put his chair and into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. He sat at the edge of the bed and cried.

You had finally woken up and check your phone.

26 missed calls | 63 messages.

You text Lisa and tell her you're fine. Closing the app, you look at your homescreen. It's a picture of Chris laying on your chest asleep. His lips are parted and you're grinning in the screen. He looks like an adorable puppy. You grab your charger out your bag and plug it up.

Remembering the stuff you bought, you grab the jellybeans and open them. Seeing the assortment of colors, you go straight for the red ones. Chris' favorite. You were gonna milk this to the bone. You reach in the bag and feel one of the pink boxes you bought. Still not knowing what it was, you pull it out and read it.

First Response Pregnancy

You bought a damn pregnancy test. 2 to be exact. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or to smack yourself for wasting your money. Many thoughts went through your mind. Should you take the tests? Should you throw it away? What if you were pregnant? That last thought gave you shivers. Pregnant at a time like this? Were you even ready?

Looking down at the test, you decide to take it. Just for the hell of it. You knew you weren't gonna be pregnant because you take birth control. Not to mention you and Chris use condoms for extra measure. Nothing wrong with being safe.

You get up, pad to the bathroom and get down to business. You do all the steps and clean up after yourself. Now you just had to wait.

You were nervous as hell. You don't know why though. There isn't a chance you could be pregnant because you didn't allow there be one. You have been beyond careful. There would be zero possibility. Or so you thought.

After what felt like 5 minutes, your shakey hand grab the test and flip it over.

| |

You freeze and your eyes dart to the information section.

Not Pregnant- |

Pregnant- | |

You look back at the results. There were two lines. Absentmindedly, you shake your head and back up until your back hits the wall. You can't be pregnant. There's literally no freaking way. It's got to be false.

You grab the other test and take it. After 5 more minutes, you check it and there's two lines also. Now you were freaking the fuck out. Both tests are positive. You rush back in the room and dig through the bag for the other box. You grab it and take both tests at the same time. Don't ask.

After another 5 minutes, you stare at the back of the two tests. Moment of truth. You flip both the tests at the same time.

| | on each test.

This is where you fall on the floor in shock and fear. You were pregnant. With Chris' child. And you guys just had a huge fall out and you're all alone. You're not ready for a kid. Especially not now.

You bury your head in your hands and let the tears fall. How in the hell were you gonna tell him?

taglist:

@flattykawa1 @mayafatimakhan @attitude-times @shawn-youth @traceyaudette @fantasticinternetpizza @kyraroseficreblogs33 @radi0active-thoughts @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @ohbarracuda @katelyneannxo @jennamarieee623 @nicochantez @craycraycraic @ilikeurdad @ppal3 @captainson-of-coul @joanne-stan @ilovetheeagles @cristinagronk16 @kelbabyblue @onyourgoddamnleft @jessyballet @misz-adrii @geminievans1 @saltyflowermakertaco @a-moment-captured @harrysthiccthighss @greatbatprofessordragon

i hope this part kept you guys' intrest like the first part😭 i felt the pressure today lmao

if you're bolded, i couldn't tag you. i'll personally message you ❤ thank you guys for your support. it means so much to me 🤧

[mitch-the-simp]

A Taste of a Stronger Medicine than His Own (Joshu x Fem! Yandere! Reader)

a request from @nobodyimportant666777 It took me some time, but at the end, the inspo hit me like a truck and I had to finish this ASAP! Honestly very proud of this- Hope you like ittt!!! <3 tw: Stalking, mentions of indecent thoughts, controlling behavior, yandere.

The world was never a fair place for outcasts like us… (Y/n) thought to herself, staring longingly at her beloved Joshu. Oh she hated how he just adored Yasuho, but she didn't see him at all. If she was her, she'd take the chance. Oh to be with such a man as Joshu… She sighed happily again, doodling on her sketchbook. Little heart here and there, a few realistic drawings of Joshu all over the page. She ran her hand down the length of the paper and then looked up at him.

Across the park, Joshu was eating a sandwich with Josuke and Yasuho. Of course, the idiot thought this was a date between him and Yasuho (with Josuke third wheeling). Truth was, it was simply a hang out between friends. Still, whatever made Joshu come and chill with them.

"Mmm! These are good, Yasuho. How did you find that sandwich place?" Josuke asked with his mouth full.

"Oh, Joshu was the one who found it, actually. He seems to have a knack " Yasuho smiled.

(Y/n) grumbled, gritting her teeth. She was sketching Joshu again but stopped. She observed and listened carefully to their conversation as if Yasuho had just insulted her.

"Well, he is a loner, so it only makes sense he knows about where to be alone." Josuke joked.

(Y/N) gripped the pencil with rage, managing to snap it in half from the force she exposed due to her anger.

Josuke seemed to hear it, but didn't pay it any mind since he was laughing at Joshu's attempt to defend himself.

"Hey! I'm not a loner, you asshole!"

'You're right, Joshu. You're not a loner; I'll always be there with you so you're never alone." (Y/N) mumbled to herself. She checked her watch and saw the time. It was about time for her to begin her piano lessons.

Ugh.…she probably shouldn't postpone them anymore than she'd already done. It's been five weeks since she's started following Joshu more and sometimes it would lead her to postpone important events.

Joshu was more important than anything, after all.

She got up from her seat and walked past the group. Unable to avoid gazing at her beloved Joshu, she looked him directly in the eye as she shyly held her sketchbook in her arms. She was in pure bliss as he stared back (though his stare was one of curiosity and confusion).

As if acting like a shy school girl, she turned around and ran off. Of course, she was going to continue to follow him around later.

Once she left, the group raised eyebrows at each other.

"Joshu, do you know her?" Josuke asked.

"I don't even know that girl, I've seen her a few times around town, but never spoken to her. She's all ways got that sketchbook and she's always drawing something. Judging by her appearance, she's probably drawing something dirty." He smirked.

"The worse part, is that if it is something dirty, it was probably about you." Yasuho spoke, this time in a bit more of serious term.

"What?! I don't even know her, why would she even do that?!" Joshu exclaimed, flabbergasted.

"Yeah… Every time we hang out, we've seen her somewhere. When we're hanging out just us two, she's always somewhere nearby." Josuke explained.

"Yeah! When I'm hanging out with you only, she's also there, Joshu." Yasuho added.

"She's probably just to shy to talk to us or something. You know, she does look like a nerd." Joshu shrugged.

"No, I don't think it's that. When it's just me and Yasuho, she's not around at all." Josuke responded.

"JUST YOU AND YA-"

"JOSHU, THAT'S NOT THE POINT! THE POINT IS SHE'S PROBABLY STALKING YOU, MAN! Geez, you're dense…" Josuke fussed.

"She's been creeping around, a lot… she goes to our University too. So chances are she probably is."

Joshu paused to think and process what he'd just been told. It seemed to barely sink in…

"I don't really know what to say. She's cute or whatever, but I don't think 'm conferrable with the idea of being stalked…" Joshu mumbled.

"Just careful when you see her. Maybe confronting her right away isn't the best idea. Try to gather evidence that she's stalking you." Yasuho advised.

"Yeah.…But, you know? It sounds kinda hot to be stalked by a girl. She's probably really obsessed with me… man… that sounds like some twisted fantasy that would only be true in a movie…" He sighed.

"Joshu, you're fucking weird…"

"WHATEVER-"

༶•┈┈🔩┈⚙⚙┈🔩┈┈•༶

It had only been a few weeks, and the closer she admired him, the more euphoria she felt.

It was something she couldn't hold back. She couldn't help but feel more addicted to him by the second. Joshu was her very reason why she breathed. Oh what she would give for a few seconds of his attention…

Anyway, this was why she was observing him through a camera. But not just any camera. She'd installed this one in his room while he was in his classes (she had to skip her's of course). And at the moment she was enjoying the sight of him napping lazily on his improvised room in the garage.

"Oh my beautiful Joshu…" She chuckled.

Joshu stood up from his bed in a sudden manner.

"Who the hell said that!?" He exclaimed.

Fuck, she'd pressed the microphone button… Had he been more observant lately because of her? Had he noticed her presence? This... made her happy in the slightest. But she didn't wanna get caught... Was it Josuke and Yasuho? That bitch Yasuho and that asshole with the four balls! They'd alerted him, hadn't they? WHY COULDN'T THEY LEAVE HER TO BE HAPPY WITH JOSHU!? THEY ALREADY TORMENTED HIM ENOUGH! THE WORLD WAS ALREADY SUCH AN ASSHOLE TO HER JOSHU! That's why she hated everyone but her Joshu... her beloved Joshu... everyone was against him... and they all deserved nothing but resentment from her. "HEY! I ASKED YOU A FUCKING QUESTION! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" Joshu asked. "My name is (L/N) (Y/N)." She spoke. Absolutely no hesitation. She had no other choice but to try and secure him as son as possible. "I've been watching you for some time, Joshu..." She chuckled giddily. "Are you that girl that Josuke and Yasuho said that has been following me around?" He asked, seeming a bit pissed. "SO IT WAS THEM-... Sorry for the outburst, baby. But yes, that would be me... I've been admiring you from afar... but I'm tired of you walking right past me." "Hey, look, I don't know why you like me, but this shit's gotta stop. I don't even know you!?" Joshu yelled. "Oh, you might not know me well... but I know you so perfectly well, my beloved Joshu~" She giggled. "The fuck?" "Yeah, I know your schedule by heart. I know you don't like spending money that belongs to you. And I know how much you hate that asshole Josuke." She chuckled. "Yeah, I do hate him- BUT WHY THE HELL ARE YOU EVEN STALKING ME FOR?!" Joshu yelled, moving his hands almost as if he was attempting to threten the camera. "Simple. You're the most beautiful man to even exist. So clever, charming and funny." She sighed. "HEY! FLATTERY WON'T GET YOU ANYWHERE, BITCH!" "Oh, right! I interrupted your nap! I almost forgot. I'll be silent while you sleep, but I'll still be watching you. Just soyou know, you look so cute when you sleep~ I'll see you tomorrow, in the usual spot.~<3" She giggled, then silence. "WHAT- What the fuck does the usual spot mea-... The park... You coming to the park tomorrow, you creepy bitch?!" He screamed, shaking the camera. | No answer. Fuck. She was keeping her fucking word... He'd have to wait until tomorrow... Fuck. ༶•┈┈🔩┈⚙⚙┈🔩┈┈•༶ Hey Guys! Hope you enjoyed ittt!! Remember, requests are always open and I'm always searching to write something! The Bitch themselves, ~Mitch <3

[akvtsuki-ari]

Around Your Neck

Warning: smut, unprotected sex/creampie, post!prison reid, fingering, oral both recieving, throatfucking, slapping, bruises idk??

Length: 4.8k 

Authors note: you know that tiktok audio that goes “whats wrong with you?,” over and over again. thats how writing this fic made me feel. based loosely after a conversation me and my wife @pastanest​ had sdkjhjkef and that gifset of spencer with that gold chain on that has me so tight. so disrespectful...

Edit: heres the gifset!!! 

Plot Summary: Prison changed Spencer. That damn chain around his neck made sure you remembered. 

Spencer Reid was… different after prison. It was something about him when he left, like a part of him was always far away somewhere when you spoke to him. He was fractured it seemed like - even though he was saving lives everyday there always seemed to be something on his mind. He was still Spencer of course, still sweet-talking and soothing when he needed to be. He never lost that odd charm about him and after those first few months he grew back to be more comfortable in his own skin but there was just something there. Something on the back of his mind that he seemed to be handling alone. 

You’d been with Spencer for a while before he went to jail, a few years and other traumatic events later - you had an idea of how Spencer dealt with pain and difficulty. He liked to let things sit and stir inside of him for a long time before he lets it show - then he gets snappy and mean for a bit after that till he sorta just breaks. In many ways, when something bad happened to Spencer you sorta just knew what things would be like for a bit, but no matter how many times he slipped you caught him. When he got shot and nearly died twice, you were there right next to him - making sure that he was going to be okay. That's just what you did, to say you were Spencers ride-or-die would be an understatement. You gave him whatever he needed, whether that be some tough love or being pampered for a few days straight. 

Spencer knew that about you, and even before prison he had this affinity for you that always made sure you knew how much he adored you. He wanted you to know that he only ever had eyes for you and that he was beyond grateful for how patient you seemed and how loving you were to him. Spencer made sure he never stopped chasing you before he went to prsion. He bought you flowers, supported you when you switched careers, and generally made sure he returned the favor in loving you but he was always chasing you still. Part of it was out of disbelief that someone could love him like that, but the other part was out of insecurity. You always told him you were always his, but he never seemed to believe you. 

Prison changed a lot of things for Spencer, but that thing about him chasing you was what changed most. Spencer was always possessive in his own right, but he wasn’t jealous necessarily. He just wanted to make sure you were okay and that no one was fucking with you or bothering you. It didn’t bother him before if you talked and flirted with Luke, or if some guy was hitting on you because you were normally so adamantly rejecting it. He wasn’t someone who was particularly upset about not having claimed you as his - before he didn’t really care. 

For the longest time you didn’t really notice just how much Spencer had actually changed how he acted towards you - mostly because he was still really sweet to you. It wasn’t like he was treating you any worse, or necessarily any better. It was honest to God, just different, more.. something. You don’t wanna use the word aggressive because Spencer isn’t the aggressive type. Spencer was calculated, and he could be angry sometimes but not often. He didn’t have a shorter fuse - hell, you could argue that prison made him more patient since he was often just lying in wait. 

The best way to describe it is probably just more confident, really. He was assertive about you being his and his tolerance for crude jokes that came your way was a lot lower. Most of the time, at least before, he’d let shit slide if it was too small. Nowadays though, if he even catches something bothering you he steps in - always finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him like he was keeping you close to protect you. He doesn’t curse them out or get angry, just stares at them with a blank expression that's arguably more intimidating. 

You were a flirt by nature, too. You were never trying to flirt with people, but you’re one for flattery and compliments so it sure can be read that way. You loved receiving the same energy so when you did your jokes and compliments would increase ten-fold. It doesn’t bother Spencer because he knows you’re just being silly but before, he didn’t mind if the other person was serious because he knew that you’d never continue like that. Now though, when someones dropping any lines your way he’ll tell them to leave you alone no question, unconcerned about any consequence or even if that person could beat Spencer's ass. Spencer wasn’t concerned about strength like he used to be - and when you asked him about why that was he simply shrugs. 

“I’ll play dirty if it gets there,” 

Those were all small details but there were so many of them that it was starting to pile up and draw you to interesting conclusions. Sex was also a clear example of change. The first time the two of you had sex when he came back from prison was relatively the same, but you could tell he was holding something back. For the longest time, you didn’t really know what until it was the heat of the moment and Spencer wrapped his hands around your throat and ask if he could choke you - something that you’d ask for previously that he was rather unsure about doing. It was the way Spencer's eyes looked into your eyes when he did it, the way his fingers curled almost carelessly around your delicate neck - so instinctively as if the whole endeavor was so natural. When he lets you go and kisses you - you’re more than into it but you can’t help but wonder where his desire came from. You didn’t really mind how Spencer got when he was like that but damn, you couldn’t say you saw it coming. 

The more you thought about it, the more it became clear to you that Spencer has changed a whole lot more than you understood initially, but maybe the last straw was when you made a sorta silly joke about the necklace worn around his neck after prison. It was a thin gold chain, for the most part tucked underneath his clothes when he went to work. He said in many cultures gold is a symbol for blessing and spirituality and he wanted to keep that with him, and that a lot of other people in prison wore gold chains. You made some stupid joke that if he were gonna wear it all the time - he should at least have your name around his neck. You knew stuff like that wasn’t really Spencer thing so when you’d said it, even though it was pretty hot, you were mostly just joking. 

It’d been a few weeks since then. Spencer had a case that needed his attention and you were at the bullpen with Penelope waiting for everyone's arrival. You were nearly bursting from anticipation, a busy case that made you particularly clingy and had you missing Spencer more than you can explain. There everyone was, walking through the doors when Spencer walks through and wraps you up in his arms. Spencer picks you up and spins you around for a few seconds before giving you a small smile. You just hug him again, noticing the cool metal on your skin when you do. You pull back before Spencer speaks and look down - his chains never had a pendant before 

There it was. Your name, hangin around his neck like it was nothing. Spencer was sporting it with a more casual version of what he normally wears, which was basically just no tie. A white shirt and blazer, and your name around his neck. You try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your jeans while your fingers went up carefully to touch it. Spencer gives a coy smile, watching the way your eyes look at it so hazy. Just like he wanted. He places his hand on top of yours, seeing your pretty eyes flick up to meet his. You can barely contain yourself - the chain around his neck always brought you to some interesting places but to see your name - your fucking name, around his neck so casually brought you somewhere rather interesting. 

“Um - nice necklace,” you squeak out. Spencer laughs brightly, his arms circling around your waist as you bury your face in his chest instinctively . You can feel the way his laugh reverberates and you just whine in annoyance. 

“I’m glad you liked it, might be a little awkward otherwise,” Spencer jokes. It was your turn to giggle, Spencer left terribly endeared by the sound. 

“You ready to head home, doctor?,” you say softly. Spencer nods, taking your hand as you lead the way and feeling his heart burst out of his chest, grateful to have you on him always. 

__

You guess that Spencer buying your name as a pendant on his chain was really what set you off in realizing just how possessive he was. He didn’t take it off around the house, walking around your shared apartment shirtless with it on at all times. He’d play with it constantly, fingers brushing the smooth metal while he was doing something a little mindless or that required his focused attention. It was driving you nuts, the image of Spencers chain hanging in your face was already one you returned to a lot but - now that your name was there it made the stakes of such a situation so much higher. 

Spencers just sitting and reading the paper when you finally are fed up. He always liked reading the actual newspaper, claims there's nothing quite as good but you’re tired of… well, you’re not sure what you were tired of but you knew you needed his attention asap before you lost your marbles for good. You walk over to him, moving the newspaper carefully out of his hands and folding it before sitting across his lap and crossing your arms. Spencer laughs loudly, especially as you take his arms and wrap them around your waist. Spencer just gives you a quirked eyebrow, a questioning look. You shake your head, because you’re honestly kind of unsure for what you’re asking for - you just wanted something. Dick, maybe. 

You give Spencer a look as you take his chain around your fingers again and play with it’s pendant. He already knows why you’re here, but he decides to let you figure it out. He knew before that you were the submissive type, but his response to that changed in prison. He carried that picture of you with him everyday, looked at it for hours sometimes so he could sleep - and it pissed him off when people would see it and talk about you. Spencer missed a lot of things outside of jail but you were number one - your love and affection of course, but there were other things too. Prison made Spencer particular about his possessions, that picture of you was one of the few things that was his and his alone. He didn’t let anyone go as far as touch that picture, so when he saw you again that possession just carried over. He didn’t really care, especially since it didn’t seem to bother you. Prison made Spencer realize how much he really cared for his possessions, books, chess boards, you - all things he already cared about but became a lot more particular after the fact. 

Spencer just knows. When you sit on his lap, all he can picture is him out in the yard but instead of isolated and paranoid, he’s with you by his side giving him all the restraint in the world. He’d be damned if he let anyone take that from him. You give Spencer a look he can’t explain, there's a certain innocence written on your face that makes Spencer's chest hot. His hand sits between your bare thigh as you sit on his lap, and the second you look down on it, you seem to get the clue. Spencer grips your thigh, eyes following the way yours move to try and make sense of what's happening. Your eyes are fluttery, as your head twists to meet Spencers, the two of you nose to nose. Spencer just gives you a smile, before looking down at your lips then right back up to you. You blush. 

“You’re close,” you say, not knowing what else to do. Spencer chuckles. 

“Would you like me to move?,” Spencer asks politely. You shake your head. 

“No,” you say stubbornly. Spencer licks his lips for a second before smiling again. 

“Okay. Then, what would you like me to do?,” Spencer says, holding back a laugh. Your eyes fixate on his lips when he talks, and you scrunch your face up. 

“Kiss me,” you mumble. Spencer grins ear to ear. 

“Say please,” Spencer replies, leaning in as his lips brush onto yours. He pulls away before you can kiss and you sigh. 

“Please,” you manage out meekly. 

Spencer pushes air out of his nose before he does just that. His lips are smooth, stubble touching your smooth skin as your hand moves to one side of his face. Spencer smiles into the kiss, feeling the way you melt into him. The moments before things get heated is fast, Spencer's hands underneath your shirt as his tongue slides between your lips. He kisses you slowly, patiently but that’s not quite what you want. You give him a whine, but he shows the same attitude. You keep kissing like that for a while, moving yourself to straddling Spencer's lap before using your teeth to lightly tug on Spencer's bottom lip. He gives you a small groan and you return it with a noise of approval. Spencer pulls back to look at you, his eyes telling you to be careful but his body language betraying him. You can feel the tent in Spencer pants as you weigh yourself down on his lap. 

“Don’t hold back,” you ask, hoping it’s the right thing. Spencer gives you a weary look. 

“Are you sure?'' Spencer asks. You nod, eyes looking into his. 

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for go,” you say repeating your safewords to him. Spencer gives you a kiss on the forehead, both for remembering your safeword but as an assurance. He’d never really been rough with you - he was a soft dom at heart and wouldn’t go as far as hurting you. You just give him a pleading look - you wanted him to be rough with you, bruise and mark you, just for a little while. The idea made your skin flush, but who was Spencer to deny you of such a request. Spencer nods softly, leading you to the bedroom. 

Spencers the first to close the door, pushing you up against as he lifts one of your legs up and kisses you slowly - fingers pressing into your thighs as Spencers tongue toys with yours. He always kisses you like that, slowly but surely introducing as much of himself to you as possible - his erections pressed against you when he does. The sound that leaves your mouth is a cross between a whimper and a moan - a broken sound that makes Spencer a little more eager. He smiles when you make, giving you a look of surprise but you don’t have anything to say. Spencer smiles down at you. 

“Go lay down for me,” Spencer requests. You just nod as you get comfortable on the bed - watching Spencer take off his grey sweatpants and boxers, the chain still around his neck. Your eyes follow his figure, landing on his erection before widening. Spencer just chuckles at you - signalling for you to take your shirt off which you do with no question. You watch his eyes as the rack themselves over your figure, panties forbidding the rest of you from being on display. Spencer walks towards the bed, pulling your legs over the edge as he kneels between them. You yelp at the sudden move, but quickly settle up again. 

One thing is for certain, Spencer always wants to make you feel good first. It didn’t really matter what headspace he was in - whether or not he was super dominant like he was today or if he was super submissive like he was when he was stressed. His touch is careful, your legs over his shoulders pull him closer instinctively but he doesn’t seem to mind. He merely pushes your panties to the side before he eats you out, kissing your clit to be gentlemanly. His tongue is careful at first, experimental lickes before he lays his tongue flat - with a soft rhythm, slowly increasing his pace to your pleasure. He gets you close like that, pausing for a few seconds on moving before sucking softly on you, making you twitch your legs. Spencers careful about this part, his speed only testament to how much he can push you, the knot in your stomach carefully being undone as Spencer continues. 

“Can I cum, please?,” your voice scrapes the surface as you ask. Spencer is busied with his mouth but he hums - feeling you unravel as your orgasm hits you with astonishing impact. Spencer feels the way you pulsate on his tongue, humming again so you feel that little vibration that sends your hands in Spencer's hair to pull you off. You’re trying to catch your breath as you finish, Spencer still adamantly eating you - making your body shiver with pleasure. He holds your hips down for a few minutes like that. You don’t really want to argue with him but you’re unsure how much you can handle as he makes you cum for the second time, a small wave of pleasure brushing against your spine as cum for the second time. When Spencer pulls away from you, orgasm covers his lips and manages to get onto his stubble. He gives you a light smile as he leans up to kiss you, hands holding your thighs as he does. You can taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Do you think you can handle letting me fuck your throat?,Spencer asks. You give him a look of surprise, trying to remember if you still had any cough drops before nodding - more than eager to let him do that if that's what he wanted to do. You just nod, ready to get on your knees before Spencer stops you in your tracks. 

“I wanted to do it while you were laying down, you know,” Spencer says, voice unsure. You’re surprised but you just shrug, laying down, your head back on the edge of the bed.  It weird to see everything upside down like this, so you just shut your eyes and open your mouth up. Spencers cock twitches at the site of you laid back for him like this, pushing past your lips a lips a bit, feeling your tongue along his tip. You pat Spencers leg, letting him know you were comfortable to let him go further, feeling his length push past your throat. You let your throat relax, gripping your thumb as Spencer buries himself nearly fully in you. His fingers find the column of your neck, brushing the bulge in your throat which makes it hard for him to contain himself. Spencers fucks your throat slowly, carefully not to push you too hard even though you were more than ready for it. You steadied yourself, the other hand in your underwear rubbing your clit to the feeling Spencer fucking you like this. 

“You’re so pretty with me down your throat like this,” Spencer comments. You moan around his length, letting him know he’s free to continue. 

“Prison made me think of all the things I could be doing to you, fucking you like you were the only thing I thought about all day. Maybe because you were,” Spencer laughs when he speaks, his hands reaching down to toy with your nipples, his fingers carefully twisting them, relishing the way you writhe under his touch. You tighten your throat around Spencers length causing him to jerk into your throat - sorta how you planned for this to go anyway. Spencers expression changes as he watches you take all of him in, his hand lightly around your neck, maybe too turned on by how the air leaves your lungs. When you pull out, spit covers your face and chin - but you just give Spencer a thumbs up and a smile, not phased at all. Spencer didn’t think he could be anymore in love with a person, yet here he was. 

Spencer helps you sit back up, sitting for a few moments to readjust to the world around you. Spencer cups your jaw, pulling your face to look at him - giving you the most adoring eyes like you didn’t just take his dick all the way down your throat, well that may be the reason why. Spencer  leans down to kiss your forehead, hands around the base of your neck as he does. 

“Good girl,” Spencers use of that phrase is spare, only using it when he really meant it. It fills you with a certain intensity you weren’t expecting, your throat already a little sore from the endeavor. You give Spencer a small hum of approval. 

“Thank you, Sir,” The honorific makes Spencer's heart ache. Spencer was a soft dom, which mostly meant that in bed you called him by his name. Sir was a sometimes thing, like when he got rough on the occasion. Sir was earned, just liked good girl was. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty girl,” Spencer asks. You do as you're told, arching your back completely for Spencer without questions. Spencer admires you, running your hands over the curves of your body, admiring the little wet spot that forms on your slit for him, cum running down your legs. Spencer wanted to fuck the shit out of you, wanted to see his cum spill out of you - as filthy as the thought was. You’d always talked about letting him go raw but Spencer was normally too cautious. You getting pregnant was much less of a consequence these days, like if anyone were to carry his baby into the world it’d be you and no one else. 

If anyone got to fuck you like that, it needed to be him and no one else. That was one thing Spencer knew was so different. Spencer needed to fuck you like that, raw and shameless just like only he could. Spencers fingers are too curious for his own good, one hand around your waist to play with your clit, and the other posing two fingers inside of you - brushing up against your gspot with ease. You shudder under Spencers touch, getting fingered from the back like this wasn’t what you were expecting but you weren’t upset about it. Spencers voice is warm in your ear. 

“You’re gonna have to cum one more time before I even think about fucking you,” Spencer warns. You just nod, chewing your lip as Spencer pads his fingers along you, curling them up for you to feel. He stretches you out comfortably like that, and you’re unable to really think clearly. His mouth works on your neck, biting hickies onto your throat as he does. The bruises are red and pulsating, the dark marks only bound to get darker and more visible as the days pass. Not that Spencer minded, though you did. It was a worry for later though, of course. You cum around Spencer's fingers again, unable to comprehend the level of exhaustion that seemed to come over. Still, you’d be damned if Spencer didn’t fuck you senseless. You tighten around Spencers fingers. 

“Spencer, fuck - please, please,” the begging has no particulars. It’s never for anything, instead a mindless response to Spencer and his ability to turn you on this much, to the point it was all you thought about. You were exhausted but all you wanted was for him to cum inside you and make you feel so pliable. You always were, for him anyways. 

“Sir - fuck me raw, please,” that last plea was a demand. Spencer groaned into your neck, nodding lightly, no response to your request. His fingers burned bruises into your waist, gripping on to you like he was gonna lose you if he didn’t. That feeling comes at you so quickly you can barely make sense of it, Spencers hands rhythmic in their ability as you convulse, cumming around Spencers calloused fingers and feeling every inch of them in you. You whine in disappointment when he pulls out. He just chuckles, taking his fingers and slipping them between your lips and down the back of your throat. You don’t choke, unsurprising to Spencer really. Saliva coats his fingers which he smears across your lips, just degrading enough for you to giggle. 

“Lay on your back from me, I wanna see you,” Spencer doesn’t need to finish his sentence to say that he wants to see how his cum fills you up, such a pretty sight it doesn’t need any words for description. 

You lay down, waiting for Spencer who doesn’t wait to get on top of you. That’s when you catch it again - his fucking chain. His name around your neck, hickies from you around his neck just like your name was. Spencer gets on top of you, chain hanging from around neck and all you can think is how fucking badly you needed this man inside of you. The way he had you, feeling this possessive over him made you fucking insane. You knew he’d always keep that chain on, like you were always hanging around his neck anyways but you needed to do more. You wanted to scratch his back up, steal his soul when you gave him head - everything, you wanted to do everything for that man. When he fucks you and you feel all 7inches, stretching you out - cumming inside you like he owned you because he did. So carelessly fucking you, making you cry out his name and now he had your name hanging around his neck. You’d be damned if another person even got near him. 

“Say my name when you fuck me,” you request. Spencer groans, slowly doing just as he promised, hitting your cervix before bringing his hips up - ready to fuck the daylights out of you with no question. Your eyes fixated on the jewelry that adorned him as he pounded into you, your voice totally lost to you as you feel his cock pulsate inside of you. He was relentless, the sound of his hips making contact with your backside filling the room with such a filthy sound. It was filthy the way Spencer fucked you. He leans down to you, his chain resting on your chest as he hands move to the side of your face. He wants to hit you, call you his pretty slut before he fills you with his cum. You just flutter your lashes and before he can ask. 

“Green,” 

Spencer's hands hit the side of your face roughly, the stinging sensation rather pleasing in all reality. Spencer's voice is low, an octave lower and hoarse as he pounds you out like it was nothing. 

“You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you baby? Taking all of me in, like it’s easy. What were you doing while I was gone? Bet you were getting ready for me do this to you, weren’t you. Did any of those toys you used feel as good as me,” Spencers words are callous, and degrading but you loved every second of it. You shake your head. 

“Nothing was as good as you,” your response was forced out. Spencer laughs, voice tinged with something dark. 

“Nothing,” Spencer pushes his hips as far as he can, making you cry out as he reached the edge “Nothing ever will be,” Spencer finished

You tighten yourself around Spencer, looping your legs around his waist to make sure all of him shoots inside you. He finishes with a loud groan, fucking the cum into you a last few times before pulling out. You’re more turned on than you know what to do with so you loop your fingers in Spencer's chain and kiss him, wet and sloppy as he finishes. He presses his forehead to yours as he kisses you, eyes locking with yours as the both you stare at eachother in euphoric post sex glow. Spencer breaks out into a giggle as he comes down, falling into you when he pulls out and you do the same. 

“All this because of a chain?,Spencer asks. You just nod, placing a kiss in Spencers messy hair before sighing. 

“If you ever date anyone else, I’ll be the person in prison,” you say stubbornly. Spencer just laughs a little bit more, the two of you lying comfortably as Spencer places kisses over some of the hickies he left. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love,”

----

taglist:  @cynbx​ @zephyr-studiesjp​ @skrrrrrrrrrrt​ @reid-187​ @louistwinslover​ @pastanest​ @nomajdetective​ @iamburdened 

[sxfik]

darling, you're the one i want

chapter one | two | three ....

read on ao3 • main masterlist • law school masterlist

summary: Kang Sol A was never known for her luck, but she suspected it to be more like a curse when after almost 5 years, she bumps into her rival and the bane of her existence: Attorney Han Joon Hwi. What's worse? She has to work with him and she's sure that she'll either kill him or kiss him before this is all over

After Kang Sol B was freed from the clutched of her mother, her new found freedom spurred her into a night in bed with the mysterious Ji Ho. Yet, when he walks into her office the next day, she is faced with the realization that she is now working with the same man she slept with. What's worse? He's insufferable and she just might have to kiss him to shut him up.

a/n: hello hello! it's been almost a month since i've written a fic and probably even more time since i've truly been active on here. this fic is a product of me, @akinosakiya, @am-bi-vert and @thenerdywriter creating 20 different threads on twitter about an idea (which eventually got turned into a whole group chat just for hc and fic ideas). truly this fic is dedicated to all of them, the hanguk law school gc on tumblr and twitter. this fic is multi-chapter and written from 6 povs (basically it will be pretty long). as always, enjoy!

KANG SOL A was not known for her luck. Maybe it was a curse, or maybe just her destiny to be unlucky in life. She was irrevocably late this morning, despite setting 6 alarms and taking extra care the night before to ensure everything was in order before she left. But of course, in classic Sol A fashion, she was late despite every effort.

She was greeted with the shining sun and chirping birds as she speed walked towards her office building, her hair slightly disheveled in the breeze. Her hand clutched her briefcase as she speed walked towards the office, her lanyard swaying as she moved with purpose.

It had been almost 2 years since she started working for Kang's Toy Co. and 3 years since she graduated from Hanguk Law school. Life had been a rollercoaster since then, an endless ride of ups and downs as she tried to stabilize herself into her new life. She had clawed her way up from the struggle of her 1L year, getting to be an expert on late nights and sleep deprivation. Nonetheless, she graduated with an offer set up at Attorney Park's office which kickstarted her career and her life.

She'd be lying if she said everything was smooth from then on; it was quite the opposite. Just like she predicted, she had to take clients that she disliked and didn't trust, but when you were trying to make rent and put food on the table, it didn't matter. Luckily, she never had to compromise her beliefs too much during those years, and she was able to build her reputation as a trustable and hardworking lawyer in the community.

Soon enough, she was taking on higher profile clients, and gifted with the ability of being picky about who she defended. All of a sudden she was going to events and mingling with the upper class of Seoul. What was a poor girl, raised by a single mother, doing in such a ornate hall, sipping champagne that was worth more than anything she'd ever owned. Yet, those very same events led her to her name twin, Kang Sol B.

Kang Sol B, clean cut and straightforward, was one of her closest friends and CEO of the company she worked for. They met by chance at an event, after a particularly successful case, and somehow, the two women who were so unlike each other, hit it off. They ran into each other by chance again and they met for drinks. Sol B's level-headed, confident attitude balanced her energetic, eager mind. Not to mention, she fit right in with Ye-Seul and her dynamic, the three being thick as thieves. Soon enough, Sol was offered a job at her company as a corporate lawyer and she jumped on the chance at working with her. The rest was, as they say, history.

Shaking off her thoughts, her legs propelled her forward, her vision almost hazy and her mind clouded with the need to rush, rush, rush. The morning was particularly busy, with so many employees rushing into work and walking in their own world. Still, today was especially important as the company is announcing a joint enterprise between two of the biggest toy companies in Seoul. She picked up her pace, nearing the entrance, when, in her frenzy, she crashed into the oncoming figure.

"I'm so—"

"Sorry!"

Her head shot up, her eyes widening at the familiar voice. And there he stood, in all his glory, Han Joon Hwi: Second Round Judicial Exam Passer, and the bane of her existence.

She had the unfortunate luck of meeting Joon Hwi during their 1L, during a particularly intense class where she was grilled to death by her professor. The actual ordeal was a haze, all she could remember was her throat tightening and instant panic flooding her mind and body. Joon hwi, thinking himself some kind of knight-in-shining armor, swooped in to save her, answering in her stead.

And then, he decided to rival her during one of their constitutional code classes, arguing in favor of a law that was, in her mind, despicable. "You have to look at it in perspective," he coolly replied to her smoldering anger when she questioned him on how he could support such a thing. It was set in stone, then, that Kang Sol A did not like Han Joon Hwi.

From the moment they met, it was like he was specifically designed to drive her crazy. The way he smirked, the way his whip smart comebacks would leave her stumped, the way his arms filled out that stupid white shirt, the way he'd look at her like he could see right through her. Just about everything about him made her want to scream.

Dislike was an understatement when it came to Joon Hwi. It was more like a never ending annoyance, his presence and every move frustrating her, making her lungs tight and her heart race with exasperation and irritation.

She was nicknamed Lady Justice, after a particular comment from Joon Hwi himself. If it was to shame her, it clearly didn't work as it only fueled her headstrong attitude. In fact, it spurred her into more arguments with the illustrious Joon Hwi, the temperature constantly rising as they would circle each other and argue until their lungs burned and they were breathing heavy. The whole school would gather to see them spar, the tension so thick that they wouldn't notice the crowd they would draw as soon as the two would even look at each other.

He was the genius of her school, that much she couldn't deny. Still, the what he said about her in their final year...

His hand gripped her wrist, startling her out of her thoughts in an attempt to support her, and his warm touch seared into her cold skin as he pulled her up slightly. Joon Hwi blinked back at her, his face shocked before settling into a familiar smirk that drove her up the wall.

"Long time no see, huh, Lady Justice?" his eyebrow quirked up slightly as he took her in, and the scowl settled into her face. Like this day could have gotten any worse, it was just her luck to meet him.

"Not quite long enough, Attorney Han," she quipped back, snapping her arm away from his grip. She blew out a soft breath, in an attempt to get her bangs out of her eyes to face him properly. He continued to look down at her, his eyes never leaving her face as he chuckled in response.

He didn't look any different than he did 3 years ago, except that his shoulders had grown broader, his chest a little firmer. He wore a black coat, and underneath, his signature black suit that he had worn during his internships during school. His hair was styled differently, now styled up rather than down in bangs that used to give him an innocent look back in their law school years. It suited him.

"So, you work for Kang now?" he asked her, rushing forward to catch up with her fast pace. Her hand gripped tighter on her bag as she picked up her pace, trying her best to not let his sudden presence taint her morning.

"No, I'm definitely just walking towards the building with the large sign that says KANG TOY CO. for absolutely no reason," she replied, her voice laced with impatience.

"You haven't changed one bit, Kang Sol," he laughed, tilting his head forward, blinking and looking at her as if he knew something she didn't.

She paused in her tracks, looking up to the man who scrambled to turn to face her. "Why are you here, Joon Hwi?" she asked him, suspicious of his sudden presence.

He raised an eyebrow in response, and she could feel the irritation build in her chest as she looked up at him, impossibly confused. They stayed in place, their feet glued to the pavement and she forgot all about her earlier mission to get to her office asap. His face hadn't changed too much from their school days, his expression overflowing with mirth and mischief. But his face did hold a tiredness that wasn't seen before, as if the time has taken a toll on him. What happened to you, Han Joon Hwi, for your face to hold exhaustion that was never seen before?

"You'll find out," he replied curtly, before spinning back and walking towards the building. Her office building. She rushed forward now, trying to catch up with him as she looked up curiously, but he avoided her looks as they walked into the office.

They marched on in, flashing her badge at the entrance of the office, and Joon hwi, somehow, managed to follow. Did he start working here and never let her know? Does he even work as a lawyer? How could she not know? She let out a deep breath, trying to calm her racing mind as she walked into the elevator, and he marched in right by her side.

People filed in one after the other into the elevator, everyone in their morning rush to get to their cubicles and start their days. The elevators was filled to the brim, yet Kang Sol was still aware of Joon Hwi's presence, almost like her mind was blaring an alarm that He wasn't supposed to be here.

She momentarily shut her brain off, a task that she trained herself on after her struggles in her 1L, choosing to focus on the people milling around the elevator. Her eyes would flit through every person, and then the ceiling, and most importantly, she refused to let her mind stray to Han Joon Hwi, despite the curiosity eating her from the inside out.

The elevator was next to empty when she reached her floor, and she picked up her pace as she marched out of the elevator before he could. Sol kept her gaze trained ahead, but her body was feeling for the presence of someone else marching behind her.

Somehow, he managed to get ahead, probably with those stupidly long legs of his. His hand jutted out to open the door to the meeting room, and he paused, turning slightly towards her.

"Ladies first," he said, his expression almost neutral. If it wasn't for the slight crinkle near his eyes as he smiled, she would have taken the gesture as genuine and not intended to mock her. The gesture morphed from chivalry to a taunt that he knew something she didn't.

"Thank you, Attorney Han," she shot him a tight smile, before marching her way towards her teammates.

Ye-seul, her best friend and fellow lawyer, caught Sol's gaze and patted to the seat next to her and finally, Sol sank down into her chair, letting out a final sigh of relief.

"You're only a couple minutes late, the director isn't here yet," she said, taking a sip from her hot coffee. Ye-seul narrowed her eyes at her, and then looked up at Joon Hwi, before looking back down at her.

"Oh thank god," Sol, opened up her briefcase, getting out one of her legal pads and a pen incase she needed to take notes, as she expertly avoided her best friend's questioning gaze. The silence between them stretched, as Sol tapped her pen against the paper impatiently and Ye-seul let her gaze bore into her.

"Why was Han Joon���"

"Good morning," the baritone voice of Director Yang boomed across the meeting room, his voice loud despite the lack of a microphone. "Let's go through this meeting smoothly, as it is a very important day for both Kang Toy Co and Seo Media. Today, we have gathered to announce a collaboration for a toy line between both companies."

Applause filled the room as the director paused, looking at each team assembled in the room. Oh. So that's why Han Joon Hwi is here.

"As such, we will be needing our talented lawyer teams from both companies to help draw the legal terms and details between the two companies, as well as negotiate the terms for the toy line itself. This is an exciting time for both companies and we hope that this partnership is fruitful for both parties. Now, I will be announcing the teams and their assignments for this coming quarter and in preparation for the toy line itself," he paused, flipping through the notes he held at the center of the room.

"I'm proud to announce that Attorney Kang Sol and Team One from Kang Toys will be working with Attorney Han Joon Hwi and Team One from Seo Media." Sol's eyes shot up to Joon hwi, both their eyes wide with surprise. "Your teams will be heading the terms of the collaboration as well as working closely with both CEOs for any legal issues that come up," Director Yang nodded to both parties, before continuing down his list.

Her eyes were still on his, her mouth close to gaping open before she quickly shut it and avoided his gaze. Out of all the people, it had to be her that was paired up with him.

Kang Sol A had bad luck, indeed, but she was starting to think it was more like a curse instead.

[bansheeoftheforest]

Well, my wifi is not back, and wont be anytime soon. The very earliest luckiest would be getting it back by Tuesday (unlikely). The very worst my house burns down so theres that /lh /hj

This sucks so much because I really cannot read asks I dont see in real time, I have the same amount of reading comprehension for them as I do Frankenstein XD

Dm me links to any important syndicate asks I miss while I'm gone 👍

-

Bannnnnn I tried to draw the Jekyll brothers but Kent? Is inconsistent? The database (what I use) showd him as a clean shaven guy with a bit messy hair but google is showing Kent as a completely different model? Neat hair, Brokenshire beard. Like it's the ingame "identify" zoom in and I cant check whats right before I already killed himmmm

Anyway here art <3. I know I said I'd draw the DTIYS first but art inspiration is stored in the Syndicate au <3

-

Also I've been thimking about Henry wearing a mask +plus ponytail to hide his identity like for the past two days. Yknow those theater masks? The weeping and laughing? He wears the sad one while in the Blighters and Templars and the happy one while in the Rooks because hes a dramatic theater nerd. Also! I like to think that if Jekyll has to be a templar he'd still wear the Blighter uniform when he could and pretend hes not high ranking. He gets away with it because Crawford doesn't care about him and Roth lives for chaos

I also drew Henry in a mask and ponytail but it's not done yet 😔

-

Also I did the math the the twins are 3 years older than Jekyll. Like thank goodness first of all because I fully went into ship entirely unaware on if there were canon ages or a scary difference. But also Jacob being 3 years older than Henry is kinda funny to me

-

All of Evie's outfits (besides her default) are bad and I'm gonna fist fight the designers because the secrets of london (where I only searched the locations of 3) is so bad, especially with the effort needed. How did they do Jacob so good, but utterly fail with Evie /lh

NOOOOOOO D: Man, I really hope you will get it back asap, and also that your house don't burn down!!

Man, if I don't know your struggle rn. However I shall do my best to link you to every syndicate ask that I will get from here on out bc I don't tend to get small asks for that au so <3

--

Huh-- oh wow you're right. I wonder if it is a set design or just a bit on random depending on the save file... I killed him a long ass time ago so I have absolutely no idea how he looked like <3

EITHER WAY OH MY GOD IT LOOKS AAMZING. I love??? How you gave all three individual personalities in just a single picture??? Kent looks like he is seconds away from murder and I LOVE Henry in the templar outfit, it fits him so well??? Man I really want to start thinking more of this branch. Would the entire Jekyll family be Templars so the trio got that role inherited? Are Raphael and Kent unidentical twins and Henry is the odd-one-out because he is the youngest? Were the three of them really close in Scotland, but left as soon as possible bc their family was abusive, only for Kent and Raphael to find refuge in the Templar Order while Henry goes to university? Would they still have that brotherly love if they were close as kids even when they are in the Order, or would they have a falling out and start despising each other (or Jekyll @ the older brothers at least)? Would Raphael and Kent secretly be protective of Henry and manage to keep him out of Starrick's line-of-sight so that Henry won't get in trouble for defying orders/ignoring them? Would they force Henry to join the Templars with threats or would Henry mostly feel obligated to join them? Since the Templar Order isn't illegal in London, would other people know that Jekyll is a Templar, or would he keep it hidden from the public? Would his brothers help hide his identity?? SO many questions and I'm so sad I won't be able to discuss them with you :'c

(also can I just say I love the poetic differences between their clothing. Raphael is just wearing a waistcoat/basic clothes and he is a brute and more open, Kent is wearing more clothes/layering up and he is the "brains" out of the two of them, Jekyll is wearing the most layers and is almost trying to hide himself and I just... *chief's kiss*)

--

Henry being a dramatic theater nerd and stealing Roth's costume supplies to hide his identity bc he is so ashamed of it and doesn't want people he knows to know about it my beloved <3 Plus the blighter uniforms doesn't look too far off of what he normally wears so he could probably use that as an excuse whenever some other Templar gets up his ass about not wearing the right clothes, yet it still doesn't make Henry feel any better knowing he has to bear the knowledge that he is actively wearing discreet blighter clothes to keep the Order happy and the public oblivious, knowing what cause he is reluctantly supporting. (him joining the rooks and suddenly coming into the Society all dressed in green lol)

Anyways I have now also decided that Maxwell and Henry are friends bc they both hate the Templars and Crawford and Henry gets to star in many of the plays he sets up. Plus they are both slightly insane so they match each other good.

YKNOW WHAT I WAS DAYDREAMING ABOUT WHILE BRUSHING MY TEETH RIGHT AFTER THIS ASK? Jekyll being forced to be the one to murder his brothers and the twins trying to track the murderer down just to know who tf are killing their targets, conveniently at the same time Maxwell starts meeting Jacob. Henry watching Jacob from afar getting smitten by him but keeping a distance bc he knows Maxwell is possessive, Jacob being the first to befriend Henry after Maxwell explains that both of them are against the Templars and Crawford, Jacob saving Henry during the fire of the theater? Yes pls <3

--

Thank god bc here I was imagining an age gap of like idk 15 years bc of the differences in the timeline but! I'm just going to keep the canonical age difference while also shoot the timeline up a lil so that the events of Syndicate and TGS takes place at the same time but they are the right age and stuff, just bc I do not like Evie's and Jacob's older designs and I do not want to imagine them meeting during the Ripper dlc <3 Also the thought of Jacob being older than Henry is funny. I think Henry has a type /j

-

They are so fucking bad and I'm going to scourage the Nexus to see if I can find any good redesign mods because they are so fucking bad. But to be fair, all female main characters' outfits are bad. Pearl? Lucy Thorne? Mfs looks like vampires. Even more reasons for why I only play Jacob, bc all other outfits on Evie are bad <3

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Can you please tell us about the whole scenario where MC gets kidnapped and Comte rescues her? The one with the CG I mean.

Sure thing! I’ll do my best to relay the events accurately, as this is one of my favorite moments in his rt~

Sizable Comte rt spoilers below, pls don’t click if you’d like to wait for the ENG release!

Okay so some much needed context before I delve too deep. In the first few chapters of the route, MC debuts in French high society (introduced by Comte as a friend’s heiress from overseas). As such, the better part of the Parisian population knows MC as somebody of noble birth. This is important moving forward.

One day while she’s in town she goes out with a friend upon request (also of high rank, somebody she met and made friends with at her debut) and Sebas encourages her to have fun before meeting up again to return home. Problem is, there has apparently been a great deal of unrest among the people in the lower rungs of the social ladder. Joblessness has been a prominent issue, and so a group of men decide to target members of the elite in order to force them to give a damn about the problem. In their desperation, they choose to abduct MC and her friend and tie them up in separate locations.

The other young lady’s butler/servant is present when they’re taken, but is unable to do anything to stop them. Surprising no one, he races over to find Sebas and tell him what’s happened. Naturally, Sebas is beside himself and takes the man with him in order to alert Comte. And Comte.........well........let’s just say he does not take the news well to say the LEAST. He hears them out, goes silent and it shows his furious sprite, and he’s about to storm out when Leonardo appears out of nowhere after he says MC’s name raggedly. (Note: not that odd bc purebloods seem to be able to sense each other’s feelings easily, and it’s likely he was responding to Comte’s acute and sudden distress). Leonardo has to grab Comte’s shoulder and tell him to calm down before he collects himself again, and then he leaves with Napoleon and Jeanne to go find them asap. 

Iirc, Sebas/the other residents take up the task of alerting the police and trying to find more information while the search party is underway. There is a hilarious tidbit I’d like to share, only because it’s uproarious and makes me laugh every fucking time I translate it fdkhdgdjfsf. So basically they’re all trying to figure out what’s going on, until Sebastian mentions the whole coalition of impoverished people looking to get back at high society for the financial inequities of the historic moment. Now Mozart, in a moment of brilliant word association, says “Oh, well yeah under those circumstances that would make MC the ideal target.” And I fucking. Isaac just turns around and is like. “Could you not. Say it like that. When our dad is hAVING A FUCKING MELTDOWN AND A DISPLACED HUMAN WOMAN IS IN MORTAL DANGER. COULD YOU MAYBE NOT???? JUST THIS ONCE.” And I just fucking lose it every time????? Like are those not the most Mozart-core and Isaac-core responses imaginable????? Mozart being so focused on the logic of the situation he just doesn’t seem to be able to read the room/keep in mind how upset Comte might be. Isaac being HYPERSENSITIVE to the emotions in the room and being MORTIFIED that Mozart wouldn’t word things more carefully.

Also a short note since I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. One parallel between Comte and Isaac I find utterly fascinating is that the two seem to share a formidable understanding when it comes to anxiety especially. Despite how composed Comte appears in the game, we later see more and more evidence of how deeply anxious he is when it comes to his future and the prospect of sudden loss. As a result, I feel like their biggest difference lies in the fact that Comte is a great deal older--so he has an easier time concealing/stifling/de-escalating his anxious responses. Even so, they seem to share difficulty in maintaining emotional distance. If Comte doesn’t exercise control, he gets too close to people, and the inevitable fallout (since they usually die first) is devastating. I think Isaac operates similarly, but his anxiety was so overwhelming he didn’t manage to get that close to most of the people in his time (Essentially, he doesn’t have the same charisma Comte possesses and he hasn’t lost as many people consecutively as Comte has). 

Moving right along. So! Comte and our swashbuckling friends (the Baguettes, as I like to call them) pinpoint the location/bunkers where MC and her friend are being kept against their will. (They find them after they receive a tip as to where the two ladies were last seen in town.) I’d like to note that in Comte’s POV of this chapter, he continuously blames himself for everything that’s happened. Saying that if he had been more careful, if he had done the right/smart thing and kept his distance, then she would have been out of harm’s way. (I disagree in that, when trouble seeks to find you it’s usually more a matter of entropy). In the midst of his agonizing, his mind goes to the worst case scenario and he forces the terror down--desperately wishing that he isn’t too late. 

So our bois split up into two groups, one being Comte and the other being Napoleon and Jeanne (yes this is Area 51 and Comte literally does Naruto run--but he doesn’t dodge the bullets bc they can’t kill him). Naturally our pureblood wonder manages to take out all the guards present and kicks down the door to where she’s tied up. The moment he sees her relief floods him and he rushes forward, untying her immediately. MC sees him covered in wounds--blood and torn clothing as far as the eye can see--and has a moment of genuine shock. She’s so used to the immaculate and ethereal appearance (not a hair out of place) that seeing him so disheveled and wild-eyed startles her. He asks her if she’s injured anywhere and she’s able to confirm she’s fine. He seems to be unable to register that she’s alright until she says those words, and he draws her close in his arms and starts shaking. She’s surprised again by his sudden proximity, but when she feels him trembling she hugs him back and strokes gently along his back, murmuring over and over again that’s she okay. She feels fine, she’s safe now.

In his POV, he speaks to the terror of her life lost that was weighing on him. He’s only able to verify that she’s alive when he feels her body heat, can feel her heart beat, can feel her arms moving--that’s why he hugs her; to have undeniable evidence that she’s still breathing. He hates himself for being so fragile, for being so needy, but melts under the gentleness of her touch.

Before the scene ends, MC hears his broken mumble at her shoulder: “Thank goodness...I don’t want to lose anyone anymore.”

And just to make it hurt even more! From Comte’s POV it reads (the brackets are his unspoken thoughts): 

"I......I don't want to lose anyone.......anymore" [I don't want to lose you... She hugs me back and her hands stroke gently along my back, as if cradling my heart. Her hands are so warm, proof that she's alive. You're so strong.....and so, so gentle. I know I should be prepared to say goodbye. I know I shouldn't be doing this. But I don't want to let you go...]

;-; I just. Every single time I read those lines I just start sobbing. He’s so tired of being alone, so exhausted. He loves her so much!!!!!!! He just wants one moment of PEACE GOD DAMN IT, LEAVE HIM ALONE CYBIRD!!!!!!!!!!!!

ANYWAY the story then skips to the aftermath, where Comte is back to his usual collected self. He’s at his desk doing his work (as usual) when MC comes in asking about how everything's going. He explains that he was able to find work for the people who attacked her, citing once again the concept of “Noblesse Oblige.” (For those unaware, it means “noble obligation” in French and alludes to this notion that the wealthy/privileged parties of society have nothing short of an obligation to use their resources in service to the less fortunate.) MC starts gushing about how both her and the police are really impressed by his ability to forgive them and help them anyway. This is where Comte drops that L E G E N D A R Y line where he says “Forgiven them? I never said I had forgiven them. On the contrary, the only reason I’m doing this is because they left you unharmed.” with that chilling smile.

So like. Get you a fucking mans that has the ability to pretend everything’s fine when you get abducted, beat the shit out of your assailants to free you, have a panic attack after you’ve been secured, and then still manages to have the grace to help the people that put him through his literal worst fear imaginable/re-traumatizing him even if they didn’t know it. This was essentially the scene that made me fall 100% in love with him. It was one of the first moments of profound, undeniable proof that not only does he care about people--he cares so deeply it shakes him to the very core. There’s just something....so moving about the fact that no matter how hard he tries to pretend that he’s distanced from something/someone, beneath that persona you just find a veritable avalanche of compassionate feeling/love. 

[seyaryminamoto]

In your opinion, what do you think is the predominant love language of Sokka and Azula? And how would they express it to each other? :)

I really don’t know much about this whole classification of love languages, if you want me to be honest xD a quick wikipedia search says it’s basically a way to break down and categorize different displays of love? And there’s five of them, apparently? I have to say frankly that, as I write them, Sokka and Azula basically do everything in that list of five languages:

Words of affirmation: one of my main must-haves in virtually any Sokkla setting, where Azula is either not redeemed or halfway there, is Sokka telling Azula she’s not a monster. As you may have noticed, that particular thing bugs Azula fans a lot, and we really wish someone would tell her she isn’t one :’D thus, one of Gladiator’s most emotional scenes in Part 1 is Azula’s mild breakdown in Ember Island where Sokka reasons with Azula’s belief of being a monster and tells her that she’s about as human as can be, and the darkness inside her isn’t anything that makes her fundamentally worse than anyone else. There’s so many scenes I could point to that feature words of affirmation they say to each other, or that they say to other people about each other *cough* look forward to chapter 187 *cough*, some of my favorites from Azula to Sokka was her reasoning for wanting to celebrate his birthday (” I've wanted to celebrate your birthday because I'm quite grateful that you were born”), as well as her later affirmation that she loves him for who he is: (”I can say, truthfully… that I love that you're a non-bender. I know it might seem strange, but… I wouldn't change anything about you"). This is without going into the ten thousand times they’ve said they love each other :’D virtually all their conversations in Part 2 end up featuring words of affirmation of one sort or another, from either of them, no matter how often they may tease each other. So... this one is pretty predominant, I suppose? 

Quality time: and see, this one happens to be Gladiator Part 2 in a nutshell. Whenever they have any time to spare (well, when Azula does, in particular), their immediate idea is to spend that free time together, in whatever capacity is possible. Outside of free time, they also work together as sponsor and gladiator, so they have their training sessions, Sokka’s fights, the events in the League... Sokka also helps her out with anything she may need (for instance, he took up a job as swordmanship teacher for the Enforcers to give Azula a hand, which still means they get to spend a bit of time together, even if she’s really busy with her new undertakings), so in the end, they spend most their time together, and they’d spend even more of it if they could. They only separate whenever they have no official justification for spending time together, such as when Sokka was still recovering from the Jeong Jeong incident, and even then they were desperate to return to each other ASAP. So... yeah, I think it’s safe to say, Gladiator-wise, they dedicate all the time they can to each other. And, as far as I’m concerned, other stories and settings could even have them spending more time together than they do in Gladiator, since there’s no Ozai breathing down their necks and threatening to kill Sokka if he finds out he’s his daughter’s secret lover. Therefore... quality time is also guaranteed.

Giving gifts: This one might be the less obvious one with Sokka and Azula, because Azula’s initial generosity (in Gladiator) answered some very specific needs: she ensured he was well fed, clothed, trained, bought him a house, found a maid for him... basically, she gave him a thousand things, but it wasn’t because she was showing she loves him, it was because she knew such things would be necessary for Sokka to offer a decent performance as a gladiator. Now then, after their initial hurdles are out of the way and their relationship has progressed, Sokka gives Azula occasional gifts but constantly struggles to come up with something she’ll genuinely cherish. He made Xin Long’s armor, he brought her flowers, he tried to cook for her, he gave her a tiny hot-air balloon, and crafted a betrothal necklace for her... he also wrote poetry, and he’ll try his hand at another artistic venture with Azula very soon. But this stuff is pretty sparse, even if Azula appreciates it a lot whenever it happens. As for Azula, she will give Sokka some pretty nice gifts very soon, just as she continues to provide for all his needs. In recent times, the gifts she’s been willing to give Sokka have been mostly non-physical ones, such as the thumbs-up she gives his crowd in his stead, once they’re leaving the Royal Dome on the day he wins against the Mad Alchemist, or ordering her Barge back into Whaletail Island’s port so Sokka could meet Katara... it’s stuff that means a lot to him, more than any physical gifts might (this, paired with the fact that Azula had offered to bring him home whenever he wished to go, without forcing him to stick to their original deal). So, maybe the gift-giving isn’t quite the classic sense of it, but it still happens in its own way. In general, I think it’s difficult for Sokka to give gifts to a Princess who basically can have it all... so that’s why he generally tries the DIY route with gifts, and so far it has paid off wonderfully because she genuinely loves everything he crafts for her. I think in most settings it’d have to be this way, and depending on Azula’s situation, she can either give him anything he wishes for or maybe resort to small but heartfelt gifts and gestures that mean a lot to the two of them.

Acts of service: this one may even tie slightly with the previous one, but frankly, as far as acts of service are concerned, these two take it the extra mile. Sokka didn’t always fight as her gladiator out of his own convictions, he started off doing it because of their deal... but as time goes by, he genuinely cherishes his role in her life and he would fight anyone for Azula’s sake, if need be. It’s, of course, a mutual thing because Azula will protect Sokka against anything, even her own father, no matter the cost. Hence, their relationship dynamics and battle couple behavior can be interpreted as acts of service for each other. Sokka, like I said before, has tried to cook for Azula too, which is a more classic act of service, as far as I can tell, and she appreciates his efforts even if not his results just yet xD in future chapters Sokka goes out of his way (in two different instances) to get lychee wine for Azula because he knows that’s the only licquor she likes, and every time he does that her heart grows twenty sizes. He also cared for her while she was sick, and she often does the same when he’s wounded, such as how she cared for him in Jeong Jeong’s arc. Sokka also tries to help her have good relations with people such as Captain Zhen, by agreeing to teach swordsmanship to his son because he hoped that would help Azula. Everything Azula did in the current Whaletail Island arc counts as well as an act of service: she’s privileging Sokka’s needs and his bond with his family well above her own needs, to the point of preparing herself to face that he might choose to stay with Katara - and she’s determined to respect his decision, if he were to make it. So, I’d say this one ranks really high, perhaps more than everything else?

Physical touch: ... but this one’s obviously a big deal too considering how damn difficult it is for them to keep their hands off each other at any given moment xD from something as innocent as walking through the Capital’s tunnels holding hands, hence, fulfilling Sokka’s wish for them to “walk through the city while holding hands”, to their very frequent intimate encounters, once these two are together they’re as good as magnets, constantly seeking contact with each other. Sokka has always struck me as a highly affectionate person once he’s with someone he genuinely loves, and so he pours that affection on Azula constantly, to the point where, in the early days of their relationship, she could barely keep up with it all. Physical touch doesn’t come quite as easily to Azula as it does to him, as she has never been someone who receives a lot of physical affection, but her attraction to Sokka has made it so she craves for him physically and on every possible level she can... therefore, despite she’s been awkward when other people show her any physical affection (often pushes Ty Lee off when Ty Lee hugs her, or remains unresponsive, barely responds to Toph’s hugs and stood limp and awkwardly the first time she did it, nearly flipped out when Ozai reached for her hand in the temple that one time, and most recently was left drawing blanks when Zuko hugged her....), she’s at ease when it’s with Sokka, so much that she welcomes his touch and everything about physical contact with him, altogether.

In short... I seriously think they do it all? You could, perhaps, rank the languages depending on which one is more predominant, to a fault xD but there’s genuinely no love language they outright don’t do, at least in Gladiator (and honestly, I doubt they don’t use all love languages in my other stories). But I guess, if you really want me to rank them...

Acts of service

Physical touch - Words of affirmation

Quality time

Gift-giving

Sorry, I really think Physical touch and Words of affirmation are virtually tied together in the story, both things tend to happen at the same time, and I really can’t bring myself to rank either thing higher, so it’s a draw. Quality time falls to #3 because they can sacrifice being together sometimes, as much as they hate doing it, but they can survive while being apart (despite Sokka would likely argue with me and say he absolutely can’t, but you know, ignore him (?)). Gift-giving, while very heartfelt and cute when it happens, is sparse, like I said... so it can stay in the last place, despite it’s still part of what they do for each other.

Is this comprehensive enough? :’D I sure hope so...

(if anyone needs me to hide this under a read more, let me know... got longer than I thought it would, woops)

[what-the--curtains]

Braving the Elements

Chapter 8: Tonys Party

Tw: Alcohol consumption, swearing , bad writing???

Authors note: we about to get a lil soft and a lil angsty babyyyy

(The balcony)

(The next morning in the kitchen)

Honestly both songs r like how I envision they’re relationship ANYWAYS HERE WE GOOO

“So, just how fancy are these parties?” you ask Nat and Wanda who are currently lying on your bed.

“Think Jay Gatsby meets James Bond.” Nat responds

“Shit, don’t think I have anything that nice.” you say skimming through your clothes which had finally found their way onto hangers. You had a lot of nice pieces, but nothing suitable enough for a black tie event. You had left most of your more exquisite garments back at your old apartment.

“No worries we have plenty, you can borrow something from us.” Wanda says closing her phone, before declaring that you should all get ready so you won’t be late. Nat and Wanda leave, then re-enter, your room carrying various dresses.

The dress you end up choosing is a midnight blue satin number. The top has a deep v on either side, exposing your back and a good portion of your cleavage. The top is tight to your body and gathers at your natural waistline before flaring out into a structured A-line skirt. You twist your hair up and pin it, pulling a few curls down to frame your face. Nat’s settled on an off the shoulder black, skin tight dress with a slit going all the way up her thigh. Her red hair clipped to one side giving it a wind-swept look. Wanda emerges in a long sleeve, scoop necked, mermaid style, maroon dress, opting to keep her hair loose for the evening. Pulling on your heels, Wanda shuffles you both out the door in the name of getting to the venue on time.

You wind up talking to Clint for a while and after ensuring he knows that you were not joking when you had asked him to teach you how to shoot a bow and arrow, you decide to go talk to Nat who's just been left by Wanda whose now at the bar talking to Vision and the rest of the boys.

“Well they all clean up nice” you say to Nat and she turns her head to face you.

“You know,” Nat says “ I think Wanda may like Vision.”

“Right!” you exclaim a touch too loud, realizing that you were slightly tipsy already. “We should set that up.” You stress to Nat who whole heartedly agrees. As the two of you make your way to the bar you can’t help but notice the small group of beautiful women who had gathered around Bucky. You couldn’t blame them, he’d slicked his hair back exposing his perfect jawline and the navy blue suit he was wearing brought out those eyes you liked so much.

You reach the bar and say “Someone’s popular tonight” nodding your head in Bucky’s direction

“Oh he always is, it’s the eyes,” says Steve

“and the hair” Sam chimes in

“20$ says it’s the arm, I know a few girls with a metal kink” you joke, causing Sam and Nat to burst out laughing and Steve to turn a lovely shade of red. The four of you talk for a while politely making conversation with anyone who came up for a chat.

“Jesus how stuffy can this party get.” you say while fanning yourself. Half falling off your chair you slur out an “ I gotta pee.” to the rest of the group before heading off to the bathroom. Exiting the restroom you manage to catch the tail end of a conversation between two smug, older, looking business men.

“I can’t believe Tony Stark is slumming it with mutants nowadays, what would his father think? I thought the commie soldier was bad, but this? Bringing in freaks of nature it’s too much who knows what they're capable of.” one of them says “Very well put, wouldn’t mind fucking her though she’s got a great ass.” the other one says looking right at you, almost as if he wanted to make sure you had heard him.

You bunch up the skirt of your dress in your hands and swiftly make a beeline to the nearest balcony. You can feel your chest tighten and your eyes start to well up. Stop it, you will yourself. Stop it right now. Don’t let them see you cry. You swing open the balcony's doors and finding no one there you exhale, resting your elbows down onto the banister, and dabbing away the few tears that had gathered in your eyes. Staring out into the lights of the city you focus on your breathing tuning out to the clatter of the party behind you.

You weren’t the only one to hear the man’s cruel words. Bucky had been standing nearby and overheard it as well. After seeing you practically run outside, he pulls himself away from the girl he’s been with all night promising to be right back, suddenly finding that the only thing he could think about was you.

A familiar voice breaks your silence and the noise from the party seeps back into your auditory field. “Hey, I said are you okay” the voice asks again.

Wiping away a tear and composing yourself before turning to face Bucky you smile brightly

“Never better, besides I’ve heard worse. I mean they said they’d fuck me, god what a compliment!” you scoff leaning back onto the railing. He rests his forearms on the banister and looks at you. “Well they did get one thing right”

“Ya, you're right, my ass is pretty great.” you say absentmindedly, causing him to laugh.

“No well , I mean yes, but bringing me in was definitely a bad move.”

“Oh, well that was a given” you quip back pushing yourself off the banister and straightening your dress.

Between the dress you had on and the way the loose strands of your hair were blowing gently in the fall breeze Bucky couldn’t help himself. Moving off of the banister he places his non-metal thumb under your chin drawing your gaze to him. He wants to kiss you right there, but not wanting to look like a fool, he waits for you to make the next move.

You meet his gaze and for a second you think you can see his eyes dart down to your lips. Figuring that the multiple glasses of champagne had got you imagining things, you turn your head away.

“You should get back in there I bet the girls are missing you.” you say, giving his bicep a gentle squeeze before walking back into the party. God if there was ever gonna be a moment it was then and you just blew it. You compartmentalize your mistake by ensuring yourself that your mind was simply playing tricks on you. He had tons of lovely women wanting to leave with him, why would he want to waste his time with you.

“Stupid” Bucky mutters to himself watching you leave. He was stupid to think you’d want to be with him. He just thought after that night in the kitchen that you felt something for him. He knew he felt something for you. Feeling upset by the rejection he decides to keep his promise and return to the girl from the party.

You walk back to Nat and Wanda making up some kind of excuse for taking so long.

After a while It was just the three of you. Sam and Bucky had left earlier with a couple of the girls and Steve and Vision had offered to help Tony clean up a bit. You convince Wanda and Nat to stay a bit longer, not wanting to run into, or hear, Bucky and his date in the room next door.

“God we have to have an actual night out” says Nat “not enough booze here and not enough dancing!”

“You know I think I know the perfect place,” you slur , “next time we go out your gonna see the underground of New York”

“Alright drunky,” Wanda says” let’s get you home.”

10 A.M., the next morning

You wake up with a dry mouth, feeling like shit, and regretting drinking so much last night. You cover your face with your hands and drag them down realizing that you had passed up on an opportunity to have a night of fun with Bucky. Before you can get too caught up in your thoughts you feel spit gathering in your mouth and you know you have to get to the toilet ASAP rocky. You make it to the toilet just in time before spilling your guts into the porcelain toilet. You have just enough time to fashion the belt of your dressing gown into a makeshift hair tie before vomiting again.

“Death!” you shout dramatically causing a distraught Sam to run into your room

“Whose death? Where?” he shouts jumping from side to side

“MINE!” you yell “I think I just threw up the equivalent of a human being.” You groan while crawling out of the bathroom in an oversized t-shirt, open nightgown and recently repurposed belt wrapped in your hair. The ridiculousness of your outfit causes Sam to erupt in laughter.

“Don’t move! I GOTTA get a picture of this” he exclaims with glee before running out of your room

“Samuel, don’t you dare!” You shriek chasing out after him passing by Bucky and the gorgeous brunette from the night before, and running into the kitchen.

“ Oh my god.” says Wanda stifling a laugh.

“Hey I think I look pretty good for a dead bitch!” you exclaim before striking a pose causing them both to laugh as Sam snaps a pic

After politely escorting the woman to the door, Bucky turns around just in time to see you running after Sam.

Following you into the kitchen he laughs at the line. He was amazed how different you were from the girl who had jumped through a moving cars window a few days earlier. You seemed lighter, happier. He knew he wanted to spend more time with you but didn’t want to ask you outright, especially after you had rejected him last night.

“Send me a copy of that will ya bird boy?” he says pouring out a cup of coffee

“So lover boy how was she?” Sam asks

“I don’t kiss and tell” he responds

“So that what the kids are calling sex nowadays” Wanda says with a smirk “huh who knew!”

You laugh along with the others, but you can’t stop yourself from feeling upset at the thought of him with someone else, still not fully understanding why

[godofplumsandthunder]

Wicked (7/10) - Defying Gravity

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes did many horrendous and evil things. He didn’t felt worthy of love and affection because after all, who could learn to love a monster.

Word Count: 1.8k

Previous Chapter     Masterlist

Just you and I defying gravity. With you and I defying gravity. They'll never bring us down.

The last few weeks have been heaven. Ever since your date in New York City, Bucky has really started to open up with you. You haven't pushed the issue about labels, but if anyone were to ask you, you'd happily say that Bucky was your boyfriend. Bucky started sleeping more in your room than his. Those where the nights he slept better, without nightmares. Other nights, you would receive a notification from F.R.I.D.A.Y. in the middle of the night, requesting you to go to Bucky's room. These were the nights when Bucky would have a nightmare, or as you would later learn, the nightmare. On those nights, Bucky needed to feel your warmth and your heartbeat. He needed to feel your arms around him, reminding him that those dreams are just that, dreams. Those are the hardest nights for you when Bucky can't see his worth. When the true effect of HYDRA shines through. You aren't an Avenger, but you sure as hell want to find every single person responsible for hurting Bucky, and snuff them out, killing the cockroaches that they are.

While most days with Bucky are good days, there were still too many bad days. You wanted Bucky to get better, to feel better, so you pushed him. You were a licensed doctor, who specialized in neuroscience. You could see the symptoms of PTSD from a mile away. So you pushed Bucky into seeing a counselor. It was hard to get him to agree. At times, you forget that Bucky was born in the '30s a completely different era than you. He refused therapy, at first. Talking about how real men didn't talk about their burdens, rather they carried them in silence. You remind him that in today's world, there isn't a stigma of seeking help for one's mental health. He was still reluctant, but you gave him an ultimatum. You told him that you like what is going on between the two of you, whatever you will call it. You want to have a future with him, but you couldn't see yourself having one with him if he refused to seek help and bottle everything in. Thankfully, Bucky's love for you was strong. He would do anything to keep you. So, he reluctantly went to therapy. He tried, but only for you. And it was a good thing for you because Bucky would have to be strong, not for himself, but rather for someone else. Events where in motion that none of you could stop, and it would change both of your lives for ever.

You wake up, bolting out of Bucky's arm, heading for the bathroom. A wave of nausea hit you, and you could feel the occupants of your stomach creeping their way up. You try to vomit quietly, which you learn isn't possible, because Bucky leaves in a few hours for a mission, and you want to let him sleep for as long as he can. But your attempts were for nothing. During your second round of throwing up, you feel your hair being pulled back, and you feel the distinct coolness of Bucky's vibranium arm rubbing circles on your lower back. After a few more bouts of vomiting, you were finally done and slumped against the toilet.

"Y/N, this is the third day that you've been throwing up. I think you might have a stomach bug. Could you please go to the medical center?" Bucky asks you while still rubbing circles on your back, trying to contort you in any way he can.

"Buck, do I need to remind you that I am a doctor? I don't think it's a bug. I think that I probably just ate something off." You try to comfort Bucky and let his anxiety for you lower a bit.

"I'll feel better if you'd go. Please, baby, for me?" Damn it, you think to yourself, how are you suppose to say no those puppy dog eyes of his.  

"Fine, I'll go, just for you. Now, let's go back to sleep. We still have a few hours left," you have Bucky help you up, as you make your way back to bed, to cuddle with Bucky for just a few more hours.

You were never were calm when Bucky went on a mission. Especially now, as you were waiting to see one of your co-workers. You have a hunch about what's going on, but you didn't want to add more stress to Bucky. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what a late period and morning sickness bring. But you want the conformation that only a doctor's visit can bring. Especially before talking with Bucky. You didn't want to spook him over a false positive.

Your co-worker, Dr. Cho, escorted you to an examination room. "What can I help you with, Y/N."

"Well, I've missed my period, and I'm having bad morning sickness. I know what it is, but I want to get a conformation, more than just the pregnancy test kits." You shyly tell Helen. You're not sure why you're embarrassed about admitting that you are pregnant. Maybe because if you say it out loud, it makes it real. And you dread to think about all the problems this will bring to your relationship

"That should be easy. Let me grab a phlebotomist in here and let's run your blood. We should have your results fairly quickly." Dr. Cho tells you as she leaves the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.  

How could you let this happen? On HYDRA's file, Bucky was listed as infertile, and you were taking birth control just in case. You can't give birth to this child, let alone raise it. You're a monster, HYDRA proved that. They showed what you're capable of doing. Sure, Bucky would be a great father. He's shown you how loving and kind he is. He would flourish as a father, but you would only bring them down. You continue down this rabbit hole of self-doubt and deprecation when the phlebotomist comes in to do your blood draw.

About a half an hour passes before Dr. Cho comes back in with your results. You're still a nervous, emotional reck when she gives you your results.

"You said it yourself, Y/N. I guess congratulations are in order," Dr. Cho hands you the results from your blood test. And to no surprise at all, you had all the indications that you were pregnant.

"Fuck," you mutter out loud while holding on to the paper that confirmed that there was another living being growing inside of you.

"Do you want to know what options are available, Y/N?" Dr. Cho says to you as she starts to reach for pamphlets and handouts about different services like abortion clinics or adoption agencies.

"No. I'm fine. I know what I'm going to do." Because even if you were terrified at the idea of having a kid, you knew you were going to keep it. You were an emotional wreck, freaking out, unsure about most things, but you were sure that you were going to keep it.

You stumble your way back to your bed and collapse on to it. The emotions of today's events overwhelmed you. You were pregnant, and the baby daddy was halfway across the world doing some mission in some remote country. You were scared and completely alone. You fish out your phone to text the one person you know you can rant too.

You:

Wanda! Please come ASAP! It's an emergency!

Just a few short minutes later, a knock came to your door. In your doorway was a very breathless and flushed Wanda. It seems like she ran all the way to your door. You let her in, and her questions start to fire off.

"What's the emergency? Are you okay? Do I need to call Bucky?" Wanda tries to catch her breath, and you bring her a glass of water to help.

"Don't call Bucky, and I'm mostly okay. I texted you because I needed to talk to someone. I'm so scared, and I don't know what I should do or what's going to happen." You start to tell her of the whole ordeal from today.

"Wanda, I'm pregnant." Wanda lets out a gasp and almost drops her cup.

"How, Y/N? I mean I know how, but I thought Bucky was infertile. That is what all the SHIELD files have listed."

"I know Wanda, I thought the same. But the thing is what am I supposed to do know. I can't have an abortion. I respect other women who choose that option, but I just can't do it. Not knowing the life that's growing inside me. But how can I be a mother, being the monster that I am?" You start to ramble, tears starting to form at your eyes.

Wanda is now confused. She understands the fear of an unplanned pregnancy, but where is this self-hatred coming from. "What do you mean that you are a monster?" She asks you, as she scouts over towards you.

"Haven't you read what I did to Bucky, and all the rest of those poor people who HYDRA got their hands on? That was all me. I was in full control. Now I'm going to tell Bucky that I'm pregnant with his kid? He sees me as the monster I am, whether he admits it or not, and he will think that I will raise another monster." This time the tears are flowing and they won't stop. This is one of the few times where you actually admit your true feeling for your self. You were wicked through and through. Nothing would ever change that.

"Y/N, none of us sees you as a monster. Let alone Bucky. I wish you could see how much love and adoration he has for you. No matter what you did to him, which I want to remind you that you did because you were FORCED to, he loves you with all his heart. And I think he will be more than delighted to find out that you are carrying his child. Because that was something that HYDRA stole from him, and now you gave him that chance back. I think you should get some rest, and call Bucky later to see if he can come back home earlier." Wanda gets up from the couch and sees herself out, leaving you with her final words that were stuck on replay.

Maybe she was right, you thought. Maybe you could actually raise this child and help them become a loving and kind member of society. You caress your stomach for the first time, knowing that a little baby is inside of there. That it was your little baby. That no matter what life threw at you, the two of you, no the three of you, would be able to handle it. You fall asleep with plans, visions, and hopes for the future. But sadly, in the end, none of your dreams would come true.

[tagsecretsanta]

From Onereyofstarlight

to @taylart-x​

Secret Santa doesn’t own this piece, full credit to the author mentioned above

TW: Referenced Alcoholism, Stress, Depression

Title: Past That Point

“Scott, get dow–”

The transmission was hastily switched off with a flick of the wrist. Scott groaned from his position, huddled on his bed, as the incessant beeping of an International Rescue emergency pierced through the “Do Not Disturb” settings on his communicator.

Was twelve hours too much to ask for? he wondered dimly. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he slowly sat up. His vision swam in and out as the nausea struck him full force.

Bad idea, retreat, he thought, lowering himself back down again.

That damn beeping was still trying to invade his eardrums. Scott fuzzily wondered if he could convince John to jam all radio frequencies in his room. A clattering of footsteps outside his door shot straight to his head and he doubled over with a groan.

“Scott!” Alan’s voice was high and sharp. “Scott, wake up, there’s an emergency, John is pissed.”

“Don’ say piss,” slurred Scott. “’M on my way.”

“Are you sure Scott?” asked Alan, the worry evident in his tone. “You look like crap.”

“’M fine.”

Alan blindly reached for the light switch and it only took a split second for the lightbulb to imprint its energy into Scott’s head with a sharp pain.

Scott slammed his eyes closed but there were red spots flying behind his eyes, the change too much and too fast, and his body’s response was to make it all stop, to restore Scott to the last moment where all had been okay, when there was no alcohol in his system.

Alan could see better now with the lights on, could see the colour drain from Scott’s face, the shaking in his hands as he tried to draw the covers over his head and the clamminess of his skin. That was all the warning he got before Scott threw up.

“GRANDMA!”

A cry for Grandma was a cry for help, and it was no surprise that not only Grandma Tracy came running around the corner, but Virgil too.

The two of them sized up the situation quickly.

“You boys get going,” said Grandma Tracy grimly. “You’re needed elsewhere, I’ll look after him.”

Virgil pulled Alan away as Grandma Tracy crossed over to Scott’s bed and began to gently extract him from the sheets.

“Is Scott okay?” Alan asked Virgil as they made their way back downstairs. Virgil shook his head. 

“Grandma will sort him out,” he replied, but the crease between his eyes only deepened as they entered the lounge room. Gordon sat on the arm of the couch, chewing anxiously on the corner of his thumbnail. He was avoiding John’s glare, one arm folded defensively across his chest. He looked up in relief when Virgil and Alan entered the room.

“Where the hell is he?” demanded John, his expression thunderous from his position hovering above them.

“He’s sick,” said Alan.

“Virgil?”

“I grounded him,” said Virgil, and Alan’s eyes flickered at the lie. “He shouldn’t be flying for a couple of days. He’s not in the air force anymore, can’t have him trying to push through anything he shouldn’t.” Alan only looked more confused but Gordon straightened a little beside him, his eyes widening a little. Virgil ignored his brothers in favour of looking John dead in the eye as he spoke.

John’s face twitched and then settled into the cool professionalism he reserved for when he was required to distance his personal reactions.

“Alan, you’re in Thunderbird One,” he said in a clipped voice.

“What?!” exclaimed Gordon.

“There’s a tsunami heading for the Philippines and Palau,” said John. “They’re evacuating but they still need us onsite ASAP, Thunderbird One has the most manoeuvrability to pick up the desperate cases before Thunderbird Two arrives, and Alan is our best pilot. He’s trained and he’s going.”

Alan nodded and left to prepare for the rescue.

John turned back to Gordon and Virgil when he was out of sight.

“Bullshit, Scott’s sick,” he said, scowling at the two of them. “I thought we were past this.”

“Not now, John,” said Virgil sharply. “Grandma has him, we can worry about him when we get back.”

“Alan’s going to notice,” said Gordon. “He’s not a kid anymore.”

“I’ll talk to Alan,” said Virgil. “But not before we talk to Scott. Let’s move it.”

“FAB,” said Gordon.

***

It was a pale and wan looking Scott who was waiting for them when Virgil, Gordon and Alan returned home, feet and hearts heavy. Alan collapsed onto the floor by Scott’s feet and reached up to pat his knee.

“Alan!”

“’M all good, Scott,” he said with a yawn. “Jus’ too tired t’ move.” He opened one eye and looked up at Scott. “And you?”

“I’m alright, kid,” said Scott softly. The corners of his lips drooped as he watched Alan, exhausted but filled with a spark of good cheer all the same. 

“Sure Scotty,” said Gordon patting his shoulder. “Come on Alan, at least let’s get you to your own floor.”

The older brothers watched as Gordon hauled his younger brother out of the room. Virgil could see the look Gordon gave him as he glanced back, disguised by the pause to shift Alan’s weight across his shoulders, the look that he wore in the field that told Virgil that he needed to get his battle gear ready.

“John,” slurred Alan. “t’s John, guys. G’nigh’ John.”

“You got him?” came John’s quiet voice through the walls.

“Yeah,” said Gordon. “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

They didn’t hear John’s response but they knew when he walked in, his presence settling over the lounge room like the stifling, humid air before a summer storm. Virgil watched in alarm at the dark anger looming in John’s narrowed eyes.

 “John,” began Virgil, stepping up to intercept him, but John brushed past him without a second glance.

“What the hell, Scott,” he hissed, towering over him. “We needed you out there today, they needed you. How could you do that to us?”

Scott gave no indication that he had heard John, drawing his legs up and tucking the blanket under him. The dead expression on his face was beginning to spread like a disease, his body uncaring of the function it was to perform. Eyes that were unfocused and void of vitality, shoulders and a spine that refused support, hands relaxed when Scott should have been preparing for a fight.

“Are you listening to me?” demanded John. “People died, people we could have saved.”

Scott shrugged, avoiding John’s gaze. “Wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

“I suppose you’ve run all the simulations of every possible outcome of each rescue?” said John, the waspish tone further souring his speech. “Because I have. And you know something? In every trial where we don’t have to sit around waiting for you, International Rescue gets there before the first building is washed away. International Rescue is there when they are needed.”

John spat his words at Scott like a weapon, his voice the sharp point of a sword, each syllable a gunshot crack in the silence. 

“People died because you fucked up, Scott.”

“John, stop,” commanded Virgil. Stepping forward and pulling himself to his full height, his voice rang with authority. His eyes showed the kind of calm certainty that John was used to seeing in his oldest brother, the kind that told him that reassured him that someone had seen the issue at hand. Electricity was still crackling about him as he looked sharply between his brothers, but he quietened under Virgil’s strong gaze and dropped onto a couch opposite.

 “Scott, we’re worried,” said Virgil, slowly as he looked down at Scott. “We haven’t seen you like this since…” He trailed off, taking in the way his brother was already flinching away from him. He knew that Scott had never truly grown comfortable sharing his weaknesses with his younger brothers and even those short sentences had been enough to make Scott hunch over and fold his arms across his chest. He carefully sat down next to Scott and reached out a hand to his shoulder. 

“I know it’s been a rough couple of months,” he said, choosing his words with care. “But you’ve never outright missed a rescue before.”

“It won’t happen again,” said Scott, looking past Virgil out the window. “It was just the one time and it was stupid.”

“Yeah, it was stupid,” said John with a snort. “This isn’t about a one-off event; this is about a pattern.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your response times for rescues has been steadily decreasing for the last eight months,” said Virgil. “You haven’t slept through a full night since January, and when you are at home, you’re just hiding away from us.”

Scott scoffed at the two of them. “So, what? You’re calling me out because I’m stressed and haven’t caught a break? I should never have given you permission to access my biometrics during downtime.”

“Scott, you skipped a rescue because you were too hungover to move this morning,” said Virgil, impatiently. “Are you seriously trying to wave this off as you just being stressed? Your BAC peaked at 160mg/dL last night, you don’t get that from a couple of beers to relax after work.”

“Yeah, well, I made a mistake,” said Scott. “It happens, you can’t pull me up on that.”

“We can’t afford mistakes like that,” said John, his hackles starting to rise again. “What part of our job being the difference between life and death are you not getting?”

“Easy for you to say,” said Scott, his own temper flaring. For the first time, a spark flashed in his eyes. “All the way up there, your AI ready to take over if you need to step away, what do you know?”

“EOS helps run simulations and filter calls; she doesn’t take over anything. Without her, we’d be out on rescues a lot more, and we’d lose at least 80% of the information I can get you.” 

“More of that ‘we’,” spat Scott. “You don’t have a clue, John.”

“Is this an argument anyone can get in on?” asked Gordon with a slight drawl. “Or is it restricted to assholes over six foot two?” He dropped down to sit on the back of the couch beside John and nudged him with his foot. “John, stop making this personal, he’s just trying to distract you from the problem. Scott, shut the hell up, we’re trying to help you.”

“I don’t need help,” said Scott, turning on his brother. “You act like you’ve never been stressed before.”

“This has gone well beyond stressed, Scott,” said Virgil. “Talk to us.”

“About what?” The phrase burst from his lips and there was the look of a caged creature in his eyes. “What exactly do you want me to say?”

“I want you to explain what you meant when you said that what we do doesn’t make a difference.”

Virgil had a way of cutting to the core of any issue, be it with machinery or words.

“That’s not what I meant,” said Scott, irritably.

“No? Word for word, that’s what you said and you are not in the habit of saying things you don’t mean.”

“I don’t, that’s not,” Scott tugged his head down and groaned. “I didn’t mean you don’t make a difference. 

“He means he doesn’t think he makes a difference,” said John, eyeing his brother sharply. “Not us.”

Scott shook his head trying to clear away the fog and cobwebs that seemed to have permanently taken up residence inside his brain. 

“Look, I’ve done the math,” he said tiredly. “Rescues with me on board are five times more likely to involve a mission failure. And I guess I got tired of watching my efforts go to waste. It’s like you said, Johnny, what we do is life or death and if I can’t cut it, if people die because of the decisions I make?” He shook his head again. “That’s not something I can live with.”

“Okay,” said Virgil. “Okay.”

The brothers sat in silence for a moment.

“So, what do we do now?” asked Gordon, hesitant to take on the role of initiator in this conversation.

Virgil took in a deep breath, unwilling to say what they were all thinking.

“You ground me,” said Scott quietly. “I’m too big a risk, I can coordinate from the island.”

“What, no!” exclaimed Virgil over John’s angry noise of protest. 

“Just like that, you’ve been replaced,” said Gordon, shoving John’s shoulder. Scott realised that with his muddled thought process, that was exactly what he had just suggested.

“I didn’t mean it like that, John,” he said.

“No, no, go ahead, my job is so much easier than yours,” said John, his lips twisting into a sardonic smile. “What was it you said? ‘An AI ready to take over if you need to step away?’ It’s a hard job for anyone to screw up, so it’ll be perfect for you.”

Scott flinched as John threw his words back at him.

“No-one is replacing anyone,” said Virgil, firmly. “This isn’t about being a hazard, this is about your health. Scott, you’re off active duty. That includes missions, that includes reports, that includes coordination of any kind. You’re not getting back in the air until you’ve worked this through.”

Scott looked away from Virgil. He had known what his brother would say, knew he was doing the right thing, but it still hurt. Irrational the thought may be, but the pronouncement smacked of distrust and being left behind.

“Look, Scott,” said Gordon, quietly. “You need a break. You don’t see how you’ve changed over these last few months.”

Scott didn’t respond, a hard stare on his face and a tectonic shift held inside with a tight jaw and clenched fists. His brow burrowed into his skin as he closed his eyes, mirrored by dark shadows that showcased his lack of sleep.

His brothers watched as his lips trembled. They watched as a tear escaped from beneath his eyelid. They watched as he folded his arms across his chest. They watched as he swallowed back a grimace and then a sob. 

Virgil reached out, gathering his big brother into his arms, and with an awful shudder that ripped through his body, Scott collapsed inwardly upon himself. 

Scott was hiding now, as much as he could from his brothers that weren’t so little anymore. He curled in upon himself, clasping his arms even tighter around himself. Virgil’s heart ached to see his big brother like this, horrified to find him at the end of himself and yet still so unwilling to reach out to them.

“We’ve got you, Scott,” said John, walking over and sinking to the floor. His anger had melted away at the sound of Scott’s sobs and he rested his head against Scott’s ankles. Scott couldn’t hear the rest of his murmured words, not even certain if John meant them for his ears.

Gordon squeezed into the space between the arm of the chair and his brother, his own eyes welling up with unshed tears as he watched over Scott. 

Nothing, not misery, not anguish, not even despair, lasts forever and slowly Scott began to unfurl himself as his cries quietened with nothing more to lament. The sudden change was an act of submission, his hitching breaths and swollen eyes laying bare the complete exhaustion of Scott’s emotional reserves. 

“Scott?”

Scott felt John jump against his leg at the uncertain call and Virgil instinctively tightened his grip around his shoulders. 

“Alan.” It was Gordon who responded first, as Gordon often did. “Shit, uh, I mean…” His brother was panicking, Scott could hear it in his voice, torn between checking in on his younger brother and leaving Scott with a shred of dignity intact. Scott knows it’s not a fair choice, knows it’s time to be the oldest once again. After all, it’s Scott his youngest brother is asking for, not Gordon, not Virgil, not even John.

“Get over here, kid,” he said, cracking one eye open and shrugging away Virgil’s arms. “What’s up? Thought you were too tired to move?”

“I slept,” said Alan dismissively, in a manner Scott just knows he’s picked up from visiting John on Thunderbird Five.

He shuffled uncomfortably and Scott sat up with a frown.

“You’ve been crying,” said Alan, looking down at him.

“Scott chuckles, a thin and watery sound. “Yeah kid, I have.”

“You scared me. When you wouldn’t get out of bed.”

Scott winced a little at the blunt sincerity in Alan’s voice. None of his brothers had much cause for subterfuge in their emotions, but Alan was still unpractised in the art of softening the blows they could leave behind. Or maybe, he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really, really wish you hadn’t seen any of it.”

Alan was silent for a few moments. “I know you’re not gonna talk to me about it,” he said. “None of you ever will, not on purpose.”

“Can’t knock us off our pedestals,” quipped Gordon. “Far too traumatising for a teenager to deal with, much better to have four models of perfection to live up to.”

“Shut up Gordon,” Alan said, rolling his eyes at his brother. “Maybe I don’t want models of perfection. Maybe I just want my brothers. I want Scott to stop all this, and I want all of you to have time for me again.” 

The thing about Alan is that sometimes there’s a selfish streak when he talks. It’s unintentional, the product of both youth and being the baby of their family, and they all let him get away with it. The way he demands things so easily for himself, thinking so little about how they happen and the sacrifices made to ensure their existence, doesn’t come naturally to Scott. Scott has lived his life from the opposite perspective, shouldering the responsibility and making the sacrifices willingly. If Alan wants his brothers back, Scott will make sure he gets them.

“We need a vacation,” announces Alan. “A real break, like a week at least. All of us together somewhere.”

 “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, okay, I can make that happen.”

“We can, Scotty,” said Gordon. “The whole point is we can.”

Scott watched in amusement as Gordon and Alan began to bicker over the proposed vacation; where they would go, what they should do. Virgil chimed in with his own ideas every now and again, his face breaking into a relieved smile with the return of more familiar territory, providing a buffer between them.

The only person who said nothing was John. Scott nudged him gently with his foot, but he was shaken off.

“I’m still mad at you,” he said and Scott winced. He opened his mouth to reply but John cut him off. “You scared me too.”

“I know,” said Scott. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

John pursed his lips together and looked firmly out the window. “Don’t make promises you don’t know you can keep, Scott.” He looked up at his brother and his eyes softened. “This won’t be the end. A holiday doesn’t just fix a year of self-neglect. You know that, right?”

Scott swallowed, his throat thick with emotion once more.

“Yeah Johnny, I do,” he said gruffly. “But it’ll be a start.”

[rockindragonz]

Theory and Practice

Words: 4554

Summary: Indrid draws a future that forces him to confront the feelings he's been slowly developing for everyone's favorite regular ass dude.  AKA 5 times Indrid saw the future vs the 1 time he didn't

Ao3

Time is funny for people who can see the future.  Even if Indrid couldn’t see exactly what was going to happen, he could still see the possible outcomes of any given situation.  This always put him one step ahead in theory, but two steps behind in reality.  While everyone else was living in the present, he was living 3 seconds ahead, so he missed out on the spontaneous things people would sometimes do.  It was probably that spontaneity that drew him so magnetically to Duck Newton.

The man was peculiar in more ways than one.  His face was soft, but aged beyond his years.  His eyes were bright, but constantly exhausted.  His body was strong, but his bones cracked and popped with nearly every movement.  Most importantly though, despite the destiny Minerva had nicely laid out in front of him, Duck refused it and fought against it as much as he could.  He purposely tried to do the unexpected things, the spontaneous things, that made Indrid have to scrap all of his drawings and start over.  Normally, this would have been a nuisance, but he found himself drawn to the chaos that Duck created.  Whenever Duck was in the room, Indrid found himself anticipating the things he would say, the paths he would take, the new ones he would create.  Sometimes, of course, Duck did the expected thing.  Sometimes he did his “chosen duty” of saving people, but he and his companions always found a different way of making things interesting.

That is why Indrid finds himself where he is: with a single lonely drawing of an odd future.  A drawing of him kissing Duck Newton.

“Indrid, man, are you still there?” Duck said, and he sounded worried. It was their usual chatting time right now.  Indrid knew that whenever he went quiet for too long, Duck would grow concerned over the possible futures running through his head.  “Hey, uh, listen, I can call back later if now's a bad time.”

Indrid coughed in what he hoped was a convincing way.  “I'm okay, sorry Duck, just, um, choking on air, a possible future caught me off guard,” he said as smoothly as he could, “Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?  You freaked me out for a sec there.”  Duck's voice was concerned, almost afraid in a weird way.  Indrid was certain his mind was conjuring up all sorts of possible reasons one of Indrid's visions would cause him to choke briefly.

“Yes I'm sure, it's not a big deal, just a… surprising future is all.”

“Oooookay man… I trust you.  Just let me know ASAP if anything changes,” Duck said.  

There was a brief lull in the conversation as Indrid carefully considered his next action.  These visions weren’t completely new; there were a few futures where Indrid and Duck kissed at their first meeting, and even a miniscule amount where more happened. But those visions were usually so insignificant that Indrid paid them no mind. The mere fact that he drew that timeline meant that there were enough iterations of it that he might have to plan for it.  Indrid shook his head as he suddenly realized that he was still on the phone, and laughed quietly.

“You are full of surprises, Duck Newton, absolutely full of surprises,” Indrid said into the phone.

Duck shuffled around on the other end. “Well, uh, is that uh, a good thing?”

“Yes, it brings variety to my life, so thank you,” Indrid smiled, “It gets rather boring knowing everything that will happen.  You frequently send us down unlikely paths and force me to rethink everything, and to be honest I thoroughly enjoy it.”

“You’re, uh, you’re welcome, I guess?  I don’t know, Indrid, I just don’t wanna be stuck in a box, you know?  I— I’m multidimensional man!  I have feelings and shit!” Duck said, his voice raising in pitch slightly.  Indrid chuckled as he looked down at the paper with an unfamiliar fondness.  As Duck rambled, the future in front of Indrid became slightly more likely, and Indrid found himself wanting this vision to come true.  And as soon as that clicked, Indrid knew he was irrevocably fucked.

*

The drawing had taken up permanent residence on the wall, even if that specific moment had passed.  It was odd for Indrid to keep such a drawing; usually he threw them out as soon as they were no longer relevant, but something kept him attached to this one.  He wasn’t sure if it was the nature of the drawing, or if it was because of who it was with, or even if it was because it was simply such an odd future that Indrid just couldn’t seem to let go of it.

Duck was set to come by the Winnebago later to talk about the most recent developments regarding Billy and the abomination— sorry, bom-bom. The drawing was carefully stowed away in one of Indrid’s many journals and stashed under his bed.  He understood the underside of a bed to be where all humans kept their more private items.  That or a bedside table, but this drawing wasn’t something Indrid would need offhand.

Usually, Duck didn’t get the chance to knock, but Indrid was distracted with drawing other possible futures, so he simply let Duck knock and told him that the door was open.  As Duck pushed the door open, new and rather… interesting futures appeared with varying levels of appropriateness.  Indrid cleared his throat and forced himself not to focus on one of the more explicit ones.

“Hey man, thanks for letting me come over, I just needed to, I dunno, talk through some shit with you without the other two cracking jokes about it,” Duck said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s quite alright, Duck, please sit down, would you like some nog?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, fuck it,” Duck laughed nervously.

 As soon as those words left Duck’s mouth, more of the futures Indrid was enjoying popped up, and he smiled a little bit.

“You never cease to surprise me, Duck,” Indrid said. “So what is it you wished to ask me?”  

He placed a cup of eggnog in front of Duck and sat opposite him at the small table in his camper.  It was nothing special, just a typical plastic table with a bench that was just a little bit too small.  Indrid smiled as he watched Duck fiddle with the cup. He seemed to be trying to find the right words.

“How do you - how do you deal with seeing the future?  How do you know which ones’ll come true?” Duck said.  Ah, so they were in this timeline then.

Indrid leaned casually on the table. “Well, you’ve seen my drawings, obviously, and you’ve seen me at work.  Typically, it starts with an event that creates ripples.  A person will say or do something seemingly insignificant, but it will affect every single future to come.  That being said, sometimes there are multiple futures that can branch off of one incident, but those futures are whittled down by other factors.  Things as small as the temperature outside, the wind levels, whether someone sneezes or doesn’t.”  He paused.  “My best outlet is my drawings and my knowledge that worst-case scenarios are just that— worst case.  Disaster scenarios are always present— floods, earthquakes, tornadoes, even something as dramatic as a meteor but these futures are so unlikely that—”

“Sorry, did you say meteor?” Duck interrupted.

“I did, but even as you asked that, that situation became less likely,” Indrid said with a knowing smile.  Duck’s cheeks grew red as he continued to listen and he took a small sip of his eggnog.  “But those futures are already so unlikely to happen that I try not to worry too much about them.  It isn’t worth concerning myself over an almost impossible future, doing that would be maddening.  And there are some less dramatic examples, like ones where I have relations with others that I have to ignore so that I don’t affect those outcomes.”

“But what if one of those situations were to become more likely?  What would you do then?” Duck asked.

“I would have to warn my friends and family that already know of my abilities to avoid another… incident.”

“Shit, man, I’m sorry, that was real rude of me,” Duck said, face burning crimson again.

“Pay it no mind,” Indrid said with a dismissive wave. “What’s done is done.  I may be able to see the future, but I cannot change the past.”  

There was silence for a moment as Duck considered his next words carefully.  Indrid smiled patiently, but he reached for a pencil and sketchbook he kept handy if a future popped up that demanded recording.  He drew idly as he waited for Duck to speak.

Duck finally spoke, “Hey so, this is gonna - this’ll sound awful strange Indrid, but I, uh, I’m… Chosen.  I get these visions where I see— I see disasters and I see issues I need to fix and it has been drivin’ me insane.”  

Indrid ceased drawing as Duck started talking.  Suddenly, he was flooded with an array of new futures.  In simply telling Indrid of his status as a Chosen, Duck created new timelines, many of which featured the two of them together.

“I see,” Indrid said simply, “Er, my apologies for my short response, many futures have just been deleted from existence and many new ones just popped up.  It’s rather… overwhelming.  That doesn’t happen often, Duck.”

“Oh shit, man, I’m sorry, shit,” Duck said, reaching out to Indrid almost reflexively.

“As I said before, pay it no mind.  These things happen,” Indrid said.  The wave of futures was calming down, and his mind was once again a dull roar of possible outcomes.  He scrapped the drawing he had been working on, and pushed the pad and pencil aside.  There were too many variables in the upcoming futures for him to truly see which ones he needed to record.  “Duck, being Chosen is something very...special.  I have known since we met what you are, but I have very little details on it due to you not truly understanding it either, am I correct?”

“Yeah, yeah, I ain’t got shit,” Duck said.  A small laugh bubbled up through Indrid as Duck spoke.

“I figured as much.  Being Chosen isn’t easy - it is never easy to be special, but you are doing a wonderful job, Duck.  You do what must be done and you truly care for the wellbeing of others. Even for someone such as myself, who could have been a temporary aid.”

“Indrid, man, you know you’re more than just a tool, right?”  Duck said, “As useful as havin’ you around has been, that's not all you’re good for.  You’re funny, and clever, and altogether a really great guy.  Despite how you act, you care about Earth.  For fuck’s sake, you called us to warn us about Leo.  And the runaway train!”

For a moment, Indrid was in shock.  No one in all the years he had lived had ever said anything so kind to him.  And this man, this ridiculous Chosen man, who had known him for less than a month, was shouting his praises.  It was… unusual, to say the least.

“Look, Indrid, I… I should go, but I meant what I said.  You aren’t just a fuckin’ pawn or some shit, you’re our - well, you’re our friend.”  And then Duck stood up from the table and left.  And Indrid was left staring at his wall of drawings.  And he was left with a decision.

*

It wasn’t often that Indrid put himself in harm’s way on purpose.  He usually tried his damndest to avoid conflict in any situation, but this was different for him.  He allowed the goat man to take him hostage and beat him within an inch of his life.  Mainly because he knew that the Pine Guard would save him eventually, but also because he knew that Duck needed to see that he would only get in the way.  Since Duck had visited him last, Indrid had reflected on the visions he’d been having.

He realized that he was affecting the future, changing it to better fit his own desires.  If there were two paths, one leading to Duck and the other leading away from him, Indrid would take the path that led to Duck.  At first, he didn’t even notice it.  He would see himself tapping three times instead of four and would stop himself at three without paying it any mind.  When he finally realized what he had been doing, he forced himself to stop. But going against a future already set in motion was an insurmountable task, even for him.  There was no telling how his new choices could affect the future. So Indrid simply tried to stop caring.

That’s why he was telling himself that getting captured was important.  He was positive that if Duck were to see him weak and afraid and in pain, he would turn away, run even, like everyone always had.  Then there was, of course, the added variable of Duck probably being forced to see Indrid’s true form and be horrified once again.

And, while Indrid would never admit it, there were far too many futures where Duck was horribly injured when Indrid wasn’t there versus the few when Indrid was.

So when Indrid saw Duck burst through the clearing, wielding his sword and positively terrified, he was positive that this would be the last straw for him.

But it wasn’t.

Duck freed him from the chains, or he tried to at least, and in doing so he damaged his Chosen weapon, a feat that Indrid knew was difficult unless the Chosen really wanted to.  When Duck punched him to get the glasses off, Indrid didn’t see fear of him in his eyes as he became “The Mothman”, he saw fear for him as Duck urged him to run.  So, like Indrid did best, like he always had, he ran.

*

Indrid couldn’t bring himself to leave Kepler, despite that being the best option for everyone involved.  There were many futures where he left and went somewhere far away where none of them would be able to find him, but he once again ignored those futures and stayed put in his greasy Winnebago.

When Duck and the Pine Guard finally defeated the Bom-Bom, it was already dark out.  Indrid had enchanted another item for him to wear - an old necklace he kept hidden away - and was waiting with baited breath for Duck to arrive.  Indrid knew he would come and insist on giving him the glasses back, but Indrid couldn’t take them, or else it could lead to some of the more serious futures.  It was frustrating having to avoid a future he wanted, but he needed Duck to make the decision.

“Hey, Indrid, I’m-I’m here.  I brought your glasses back, but the gang doesn’t know I’m doing this, so let’s keep it on the DL?”  Duck pushed the door to the Winnebago open slowly and looked around the small camper.  Indrid was sitting on his couch, head in his hands, as he saw the futures swimming through his mind.  The punch Duck had delivered had been solid, but the time he had spent unconscious when the goat-man had taken him was the time that was only just now flooding back to him.

“Shit, Indrid, are you okay?”  Duck rushed over, seemingly forgetting the reason he had come, and he knelt in front of Indrid.  Indrid peeked at Duck, and saw a look of concern he was unfamiliar with.

“Too much.  Just a moment,” he spoke.  Duck simply nodded and made himself more comfortable beside Indrid on the small couch.  He bounced his leg anxiously as Indrid attempted to collect himself.  His whole body seemed to be vibrating with… something neither of them could quite put their finger on.  “Alright.”

“You feel better now?”

“Yes, I am fine now.  My apologies, I saw that you were coming and had to rush to enchant this new item so I may not look exactly as you remember.”  It was true.  Indrid’s form was similar, but there were certain things about him that were different. He was slightly closer to Duck’s height now, and his hair was quite a bit cleaner and shorter than it was before.  The most noticeable difference, however, was that he was much broader than before, so the camper felt a little smaller.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re okay.  You know,” Duck started, and then paused to bite his lip as if he were contemplating his next words, “you know, I was… worried you would be gone by the time I got here.  I practically flew here, I ran so goddamn fast, never run that fast in my life.”

“I appreciate your concern, Duck, but I am quite alright.  I… figured you’d be coming by so I stayed put to see what you had to say,” he said.  The lie slipped so easily across his tongue, but it tasted like poison.  Indrid knew that he’d only stayed because he was selfish and wanted one last chance to see one of those futures through.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Duck said.  His face lit up and he sat up a little straighter.  “I-I-I mean the Pine Guard is glad, you were real helpful and, uh, yeah you’re a good dude and shit.”  Indrid laughed.  Duck had no idea how wrong he was.

“I put myself in harm’s way,” he said, “How is that helpful?”

“You kept them distracted.  You must have known what would happen with the goat-man and how it would change shit for us.  Because of you, they were distracted.”

“Yes, I make a good distraction, don’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Duck said.  His voice was deep and loud, and his eyes narrowed at Indrid.  “What I meant to say was thank you.  I’m sorry I punched you, but I’m glad you are okay.  Sorry I yelled, but you have a thick skull for someone who knows what'll happen.”

“I can't help it,” Indrid said with a small, satisfied smile, “I like seeing you all riled up.”  He was teasing, of course he was teasing, but his words held some truth.  Seeing Duck so fiercely protective made something inside Indrid just kind of smile.

*

A couple days after the bom-bom was beaten, the door to Indrid's Winnebago slammed against the wall as Duck burst inside.  Indrid had been expecting the action, but it caused him to jump nonetheless.

“Duck?  Is everyone alright?”

“Indrid, man, I-I'm - I think I'm broken,” Duck said, voice wavering, “I'm not - 'm not tough!  I'm not fast or special, I'm just Duck fuckin’ Newton now.  I'm helpless, for fuck's sake I asked a gigantic fuckin’ magical cat for a fuckin’ helmet because I am scared shitless.  I have never felt so fuckin’ vulnerable in my life, Indrid.  What the hell am I supposed to do?”  He was pacing about the camper with his hands running through his hair.

Indrid was unsure of what to do at this point, so he took a breath and considered his words carefully. “Duck, I am sorry this has happened to you.  This is far more than even I could have predicted.  This is a path that seemed so unlikely I gave it no thought.”  

It was the truth, not the whole truth, but the truth.  Indrid hadn't paid it much mind because it seemed like a disaster scenario, but he'd dwelled on this event longer than the others because of his personal feelings for Duck.  

“I am sorry, Duck Newton, I am truly sorry.  What you do now is entirely up to you.  I see… futures where you are injured and I see futures where you prevail without a scratch, but Duck?”  Indrid paused, looking at Duck and biting his lip, unsure of if he should say what he was about to say, but he took a deep breath and spoke, “You are still Chosen. Losing your powers doesn't change that you were Chosen out of billions of people to protect Kepler.  You will have to be more careful now, so you don't wind up dead, but so long as you aren’t careless, you’re going to be amazing.”  

Indrid felt his heart pull painfully as he took in Duck's full appearance.  There were purple bags under his eyes, new wrinkles had formed on his forehead, his shirt was half untucked. Really, he just looked like absolute hell.

“Indrid?  You really think all that?” Duck looked up at him.

“Oh Duck, of course I do,” Indrid said, voice betraying something slightly softer than what he’d meant to say.  Duck smiled at him and Indrid felt his heart soar.  Life was difficult knowing everything that could happen, but Duck made things a little easier to bear.

The two of them talked for hours about life, the universe, and everything.  Duck ranted about the expectations that came with being Chosen, Indrid reminded him that he was the one holding himself to those impossible standards.  Indrid talked briefly about the more explicit futures he would see, and Duck laughed. The sound was music to Indrid’s ears.  Duck talked softly about his sister, June.  Indrid said that he’d love to meet her someday, to which Duck responded that it might be hard to explain his whole ‘Winnebago eggnog weirdness’ (Duck’s words, not his).

It was the happiest Indrid had ever been.

*

Indrid was exhausted.  The futures where Duck confessed to him had gotten more and more likely as the weeks went on.  They’d begun speaking more frequently, Duck came to the Winnebago more often, and Indrid had even visited Duck’s apartment once; he had the cutest cat that liked to curl up on Indrid’s lap.  His life was becoming more involved with the Pine Guard.  They’d tried to get him to come with them to the lodge a few times, but he refused, citing that he didn’t really fit in with the rest of the Sylphs.

Today was one of the days where Indrid was staring at the many drawings he’d made of the two of them, debating on whether he should act or not.  He’d honestly been waiting to see if Duck even wanted something like that in this timeline, but he was growing impatient.  Duck was a hard man to read.  He’d say one thing, but his eyes would say another.  He’d do one thing with certain motivations, but his actual motivations would be vastly different.  As always, Duck Newton was an enigma.

Lost in thought, Indrid almost ignored the ringing of his phone.

“Hello, Duck, how are you?”

“Good, good, I’m all good here.  Hey, listen, I’m headed over right now, I needa talk to you about some— some shit, is now good for you?  Or should I come later?  I can come later if that’s better, I ain’t got anything else to do.”

“Right now is fine, I’ll be busy drawing, so just come in when you arrive.”

“Gotcha, I’ll, uh, see you in a bit man.”  Before Indrid could say anything, Duck hung up the phone.  As he looked to the future, Indrid was surprised to see almost no futures where Duck ‘made a move’ as it were.  There was one, but it was highly unlikely, and would only be determined moments before it happened.  With a frown, Indrid studied the futures, looking as far ahead as his vision would allow, and he drew out various likely events and pinned them to his wall.  He didn’t know how much time had passed by the time Duck got there, but the door swung open slowly as Duck peered into the Winnebago.

“Ah, Duck, good to see you,” Indrid said, “please, take a set, feel free to get yourself some eggnog from the fridge.”

“Uh, yeah, nah, I’m good man, just uh— I’m good.”  He stood awkwardly near the door and bounced from one foot to the other, looking around the small home.  It had gotten significantly cleaner since Duck had started visiting, but it was a still barely organized.  The awkwardness Duck felt was coming off him in waves.

Indrid set his pencil down and turned to him with, what he hoped, was a reassuring smile. “What’s on your mind, Duck Newton?”

Duck fidgeted for a moment before looking up at Indrid, his eyebrows knitted.  “I, uh, I needed to ask about some stuff, like the next Abomination, ‘cause we’re gettin’ real close to the time frame, and we’re all gettin’ super nervous ‘n’ everything and so we just wanna, ya know, know?”

“Well, uh, that is still a little outside of my vision, but I will be sure to let you know what’s happening as soon as I know what’s happening.”

“Yeah, sure, I mean, of course,” Duck said.  He stood there, bouncing from foot to foot faster than before.

“Was there… something else you needed?”  Indrid stood up, trying to look as non-threatening as he possibly could in his tall, lanky, not-quite-human form.

“Well, yeah, shit— I-I— shit, ‘Drid, this is fuckin’ weird,” Duck laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the ground, “I just, well I just wanted to say thank you for everything in the last little while here.  It’s been— it’s been real rough without Minerva and without, you know, havin’ all my powers.  I’m just a regular ass dude now, and I have pains I never knew I had everywhere.  Shit, dude, I feel so much older.  But yeah, um, thank you for helpin’ me out and for listenin’ to me all the time.”

Indrid nodded, “Of course, Duck.  I know what you went through, maybe better than others on account of my own abilities, but I can never truly understand.  I try, Duck, and I’m glad I’ve helped, if even a little bit.”

“You’ve done more than a little bit,” Duck said, stepping closer, “you’ve— you’ve listened and you’ve cared— or at least acted like it— and you’re literally always home and willing to let me come over, even at two in the fuckin’ morning.”

Before he could stop himself, Indrid’s face softened as he looked at Duck and said, “I would do anything for you, Duck Newton.”  

As soon as the words left Indrid’s mouth, his eyes opened in slight shock.  He was not meant to say that out loud, not in any of the likely timelines anyways, and that could only mean—

Duck surged forward and pressed his lips to Indrid’s.  It was forceful, but soft at the same time.  Finally, finally, Indrid was experiencing what his visions had shown him, and it was much more overwhelming to feel everything rather than see it from an outsider’s view.  But it was so, so nice, and it just felt right.

Duck pulled back, suddenly all nerves and aware of himself, and held up his hands between them.  Indrid only laughed and shook his head, and then he pulled Duck back in.  This wonderful, perfect, strange enigma of a man was finally within his grasp and Indrid was never letting go.

And he knew he was fucked.

But he didn’t honestly give a shit.

[robinrunsfiction]

The Spaces That Divide Us - Chapter 1

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: General (future chapters will have author’s notes indicating when they may include violence) Requested By: None Author’s Note: To understand this story, it is vital you have read Weapons of Clairvoyance, which can be found on my masterlist. This story is so much something I wrote for myself, and honestly if you enjoy it, I’m really glad. Also if you would like to be on the tag list for this story, please let me know.  Song recommendations for this chapter: Nothing At All by Taking Back Sunday and Young and Menace by Fall Out Boy (~ denotes song change)

When you pulled up in front of the house, there was a light on in the living room despite the late hour. Gerard opened the door for you, the living room filling with crisp fall air as Mikey jumped up from his place on the couch as you walked in.

“Where the hell have you been?” he shouted before noticing how you were both dressed, looking back at the breaking news on the TV. “You did that didn’t you?”

“Mikey, listen,” Gerard started.

“You killed them! And you tricked them into shooting that Bob guy, Frank told us!”

“Would you shut up and let us explain?” Gerard shouted back. You didn’t know what to do or say, standing silently behind Gerard, wrapping his jacket tighter around yourself. Mikey’s mouth formed a tight line and his brow was furrowed, but he nodded and sat back down. Gerard began to explain your plan to draw Restoricom off the rest of them by taking off that night, how Brendon found you, and it was either following his plan, or continuing to run from Restoricom. He left out all mention of Sarah.

After hearing everything, Mikey nodded and sighed. “I’m sorry I blew up, I was worried. I didn’t know if I was gonna see you, either of you, again.”

“We couldn’t risk anyone else knowing,” you said quietly. “It could have compromised everything.”

“So, it’s over?”

Gerard nodded silently, and Mikey got up. “I haven’t slept in a week thanks to you two, so I’m going to bed. Welcome back.”

You sat down where Mikey had been sitting and let out a sigh. “We aren’t evil, right?”

“No Sugar, all we did was help Sarah do her job, and saved ourselves from being killed for what we are.”

You nodded listening to Gerard’s reassurance. He was right, you knew he was, but it was going to take time for it to sink in.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he said offering you his hand. You took it, following him up the stairs to the comfort of his familiar bed.

~

The next morning Gerard woke up, squinting his eyes against the sun that was beginning to shine through the crack of the curtains.

He instinctively reached out for you but felt nothing but the cold spot where you had lay the night before. He sat up and saw your phone was gone as well. He tried to regain his bearings as he looked around his room. The gown you wore the night before was draped carefully over his desk chair, your pajamas in a pile at the foot of the bed. Your bag in the corner looked like it had been dug through, but it didn’t look like you had left with no intentions of returning.

Gerard felt another wave of guilt wash over him. He had come to learn that when you had a lot on your mind, you isolated yourself and he knew you were dealing with your own feelings of guilt over last night’s events. It was his fault that you were dragged into this whole mess. He jumped into a plan without considering other options and the next thing you knew you were doing a favor for Death and the blood of a dozen corrupt men was on your hands. Gerard felt like he needed to make this right somehow.

He got up and decided to go check by the lake to see if that’s where you were. He expected to find the coffee maker running when he entered the kitchen, but he found it was still empty and cold.

“Hey Gee, where’s the car?” Mikey asked, his voice still thick with sleep as he shuffled into the kitchen.

“(YN), she must hav-” Gerard started, but was cut off by his phone buzzing in his pocket. “(YN) are you ok? Where are you?”

Mikey watched his brother’s face turned from concern, to shock, to sadness.

“Are you ok?” He paused, listening. “Ok, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“What’s wrong?” Mikey asked as Gerard ended the call and started rushing toward the door, grabbing his jacket.

“(YN)’s house was burned down the night before last, and the investigators are all over her. It’s got to have been Restoricom. I’m gonna go be with her.”

Mikey nodded, his head still spinning at the news since he still wasn’t completely awake. He watched as Gerard went out the front door and gracefully transformed into a crow and took off into the sky.

~

You were sitting on the curb staring at the ground, the smell of burnt wood hung in the air. Last night as you got ready for bed, you realized that in the commotion of the last few days, you phone battery had died. You plugged it in but left it off, not having the mental energy to look at it.

But once you were in bed, you couldn’t stay asleep, afraid if you closed your eyes of what you would see, whether it would be memories of what you had done, or what might lay ahead of you and you weren’t sure which scared you more. Before dawn, you decided to give up and pulled yourself out of bed. You turned on your phone and wandered downstairs as it started up.

Dozens of text message and voicemail notifications started to load and your heart began to race. You went to the text messages first, all from your landlord.

(YN), its Kenny, the police just called to report a fire at your place, are you ok?

(YN) I’m heading over to your house, I hope you’re ok!

(YN) you aren’t answering, I hope you are just busy, call me back as soon as possible!

(YN) investigators need to talk to you, get over here ASAP

(YN) your boss said you quit weeks ago with no notice, what the fuck is going on?!

You felt sick to your stomach as you listened to the voicemails from the police and your landlord. You had to get back there and deal with the wreckage. You raced back upstairs, changed clothes and grabbed Gerard’s car keys. You’d call once he was up.

Now you heard footsteps running up to you. “Hey Gerard,” you said without looking up.

“Are you ok Sugar?” he asked sitting down on the curb next to you.

“Yea, no, I don’t know,” you replied, tears stinging your eyes. “Everything I had that wasn’t at your place is gone. My car is destroyed, photos, heirlooms, everything,” you sniffled. Gerard wrapped his arm around you protectively and you rested your head against his shoulder and let all the tears fall. Gerard looked back over his shoulder at the smoldering remains, it was a total loss.

“Excuse me sir, are you Mr.. Gerard Way?”

“Yea, is there something I can do?” he asked looking up at the police officer. You felt a wave of panic wash over you, as you hadn’t gotten the chance to fill Gerard in on the story you had told them regarding your whereabouts.

“Where have you and Miss (YLN) been the last few days?”

“Up at his cabin, my phone died, and I forgot my charger! God, I already told you!” you jumped in before Gerard had a chance to respond.

“Miss (YLN),” the officer growled, frustrated that your outburst had just compromised his line of questioning. You burst out into hysterical sobs, throwing your face dramatically against Gerard’s shoulder.

“Officer, you cannot expect someone in her emotional state to be questioned like this,” Gerard said, knowing full well you were putting on a show.

“Is there anyone who can corroborate your whereabouts?”

“My brother, Mikey. I can give you his number. In the meantime, is it ok if I walk to the café around the corner and grab her a coffee?”

“Leave your phone,” the officer said. Gerard got up and pulled out his phone and gave the officer Mikey’s number.

“I’ll be right back Sugar,” he said pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You watched as he jogged around the corner and suddenly a falcon flew over, heading out of town rapidly.

You had let your sobs die down so you could overhear what the officer was saying on the phone. He had to leave a message because, just as Gerard suspected, his brother wouldn’t pick up for a number he didn’t recognize. A few minutes later Mikey called back. You could hear the officer ask him the same question that he posed to Gerard about your whereabouts.

“And where do you live sir? Oh, that far out of town. Ok, fair enough.”

A few minutes later Gerard reappeared, two coffees in hand. The officer came back and gave Gerard his phone.

“We reached your brother; he corroborated your account. You’re both free to go, we will be in touch when we find out more.”

You and Gerard made your way back to his car silently. The sun was fully up, and he could see just how tired you were, the darkest circles he’d ever seen under your eyes. You handed him back his keys and got in the passenger side.

“Sorry for stealing your car,” you said quietly.

“Its fine. Whatever you need, don’t ever hesitate to take,” he smiled wearily as he started the car. “Are you ok? Really?”

“I’m drained, but also kinda relieved. Like, it really, really feels over now. That whole chapter of my life is done,” you said taking a swing of your coffee then looked over at Gerard. “Thank you.”

He glanced back. “For what?”

“For helping me, for keeping me safe, for believing in me all along.”

Gerard smiled; weight lifted off his own heart a little hearing those words. “You don’t blame me for this?”

You scoffed. “Not for one second. You didn’t give me this ability. You didn’t create that division of Restoricom. You’re my light in all this.”

Words danced on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back, instead reaching over and grabbing your hand as he drove home

“I was thinking I might throw a Halloween party,” Gerard replied after a while, breaking the silence.

You perked up. "Oh my God, is it really almost Halloween?”

“Yea, you don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all, is my favorite,” you replied with a grin, your mood decidedly improved. This was exactly what you needed.

Chapter 2