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tinyyoungblood · 4 years

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romance, eh? | peter parker

summary: it’s the broken main characters typeshi where they don’t think they deserve love, but over the course of the movie, they help each other and fall in love. football fields and late night drives. it’s kinda cute

pairing: peter parker x reader

trope: best friends to lovers

warning: language, very fluffy

a/n: i’ve resurrected from the dead, waddup <3

* * *

You were sat at the porch of your house, tossing rocks down the driveway and watching them skip toward a puddle. The sound of splashing water was the only source of entertainment as you were seemingly the only person alive in this town. When you realized that you had finally run out of stones to throw, you considered hurling the gnome down the driveway but decided against it and instead, patted your pockets in an attempt to locate your phone. To your surprise, it started ringing the second you held it in your palm. Peter’s name flashed boldly across the screen, illuminating your face. You answered the call and stood up.

“Where the hell are you?”

Loud rustling was on the other side of the line, and you squinted down the road in search of any approaching cars.

Finally, his familiar voice rang through the phone’s speakers. “Y/N, fuck, I’m—ow.” You heard a car door shut, and a string of curse words lingered at the tip of your tongue.

“Oh God, you’re not telling me you’re still at home, are you? Please tell me, you just closed the door to get out of your car and not in.” Absolute silence followed, and you could practically see him sit still like a deer caught in headlights. A beat followed before he replied carefully.

“What if I tell you I just entered a very sketchy dance battle in the middle of the forest and now it takes me 10 to 15, maybe even 20 minutes, to kick ass and get out of here?”

You took a deep breath and dragged your feet back to the porch, shunning it with a glare. “Parker, I swear to God, if I hear you turn on the engine right now, I’m going to set your Star Wars collection on fire.”

You heard him mumble something on the other side of the line, but were only able to pick out a soft “not cool”. The clanking of keys occurred next and before you knew it, the engine was yanked to life, making you groan loudly. “I hate you.”

You heard him set the phone down with a chuckle, switching to speaker. “I’ll get over it. Just don’t touch my Star Wars.”

You slumped back on the porch and grimaced at the spider web hanging above your head. Scooting away from it, you let your back hit the wooden ground, phone still pressed against your ear. “Just hurry up,” You murmured, defeat and exhaustion instilling a softness in your voice. He cooed at you.

“Don’t worry, I know there’s never any parking space on Thursdays, but I’ll run all the way from the parking lot to your house. Actually, I’ll start running the second this car is parked—no, wait, I’ll start running while I’m still in the car—”

“Peter,” you cut him off, knowing he could go on forever but still somehow end up not coming at all. “Just drive safely, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Fine,” he replied, “but I’ll have you know that I have now stomped two holes into the car’s floor to get to you Flintstone style. That’s the dedication we’re working with here.” A subtle click followed, signaling that he had ended the call.

Light laughter bubbled over your lips, and you shook your head at your best friend’s words. He was a dumbass, but at least he could make you laugh. One of the many reasons, you adored him. The rest of your life could be spent listing off the other reasons, but even in the afterlife, you wouldn’t be halfway done. You didn’t bother to sit up, opting to just lay on your back until either he would arrive or a passer-by would mistake you for a corpse and call the police. Whatever came first.

The next few minutes were waste of time. Now and then, a glance would be cast at the display of your phone, but that was really how far it went with the physical activity. For all Peter knew, you could’ve been dead when he finally arrived, dashing toward you like a maniac chased by the Holy Spirit. “Y/N?” He skidded to a halt and breathed hard. “You alive?” You felt him poke your side with his finger. Too drowsy to react, you simply lifted your hand and gave him a thumbs up. A grin swept over his lips, and he bent down to scoop you up, coaxing a sign of life out of you as you squealed but almost immediately after melted into his chest.

He chuckled and carried you to his car. “Hello to you too, baby.”

You forced an eye open. “Took you long enough.”

Shrugging, he cocked his head to the side and lifted the corner of his mouth. “Oh, you know, some girl was babbling my ear off while I was on my way here. Really messed up my schedule.” He pretended to scowl at you, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Seems like she didn’t do her job right.” You tucked at his earlobe, and he grimaced. “Such a bummer. You could’ve totally pulled off the Van Gogh look.”

He let you down into the passenger seat, shutting the door for you and setting his crossed arms on the rolled-down car window. “Oh yeah? You got a thing for dead artists now?” His face was in a twist, and you found yourself rolling your eyes again.

“I got a thing for guys who value punctuality,” you replied pointedly, and Peter let out a loud laugh. Leaning down, he came to an eye-level with you.

“Good thing, that’s not me then, am I right.” He winked and walked over to the driver’s side. In a second, he was seated next to you and reversing out of the parking lot, head turned to look behind him while his arm was holding onto the back of your seat. You took the second of concentration to take in his features. When he caught you staring, a smug smile raised to his lips, but you were quick to smack his chest with the back of your hand.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was just checking if you had a black eye or at least a broken nose,” you said and ignored the way he cocked his brow.

“Thanks?” His eyes flickered between you and the road. “I gotta tell you, that’s a very sadistic love language you speak, but I’ll take it.”

You shot him a glare. “How else do you want to explain being 40 minutes late if it wasn’t being robbed by a biker gang and left in a ditch?”

“My answer was lack of time management by birth, but your excuse does sound far cooler.”

“Well, sadly, there’s no biker gang.” You heaved a sigh of exhaustion. “Otherwise, I would’ve gladly let them de-ball you.”

Peter cackled at your words, shaking his head before reaching over to pat your knee. “And they say romance is dead. I bet they’ve never met a total sweetheart like you.”

You broke out into a grin and swiftly whipped around to stare outside the window. Deciding to roll it up to stop the fidgeting of your hands, Peter made it his mission to choose the perfect song for your little drive. When the song “Midnight City” came up, he stopped and turned to you while wigging his brows obnoxiously. Pointing to the time on the upper corner of the car’s display, he awaited your reaction. It was five minutes past midnight.

You sighed. “Peter…”

“Oh, shut it, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, morphing the pout on his face into a matching smirk. “You know,” he spoke up, still staring ahead, “Sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with you if you never appreciate my genius.” He gestured to his face, and you snorted.

Your eyes caught a brown bag that was sitting at your feet. “I’m here to keep your ego from exploding, I thought we’ve already gone over this—hey, what’s this?”

Peter glanced at you. “Booze.” He said it so casually you barely wondered how he got a hold of it. “You told me to get the good stuff, remember?”

Frowning, you leaned forward and tried to catch his gaze. His eyes flickered to yours. “What?”

“Since when is the good stuff not chocolate?”

He contemplated your words for a second before pulling a face. “Oh. Well, you wanted to bitch about our sucky love lives, so I assumed that involved liquor.” He shrugged. “To make it less excruciatingly painful, you know.” Eyeing the bottle in your hand, you pursed your lips, oblivious to Peter’s pleading look to just go with it. You hadn’t an idea what he had to go through just to swipe that bottle.

“I guess,” you finally replied and screwed off the cap to take a big gulp, feeling the liquid burn down your throat. Raising the bag, you flashed him a big smile. “Off to our voyage!”

He mirrored it, also raising his fist in the air. “Off to the deserted island named football field.”

- - - - -

“So what’s got your love life in a twist?” Peter asked casually while biting a piece off his sour belt. Within the past hour, the two of you had consumed a considerate amount of alcohol but had yet to experience feeling fatally wasted. A slight haze had infiltrated your senses, but that was really it. You both were still perfectly capable of having a proper conversation.

“You mean my panties?”

“Huh?” He narrowed his eyes in deep thought. “Oh, you want to talk about your underwear. Yeah, I guess that’s fine too.”

“No, you meant my panties are in a twist.” He turned to look at you.

“Why would your panties be in a twist? Do you want me to untwist them?” Slowly, the corner of his mouth curved into a not-so-subtle smirk, and you fought hard to keep a straight face.

“I really do hate you, Parker.”

He grinned back at you. “Means I must be doing something right, huh.”

Choosing to ignore his words, your gaze traveled the dark night sky above, littered with endless sparkling white dots. Peter mirrored your action, letting comfortable silence settle in, as the two of you continued to lay next to each other on top of the roof of his car.

“I don’t know,” you responded after a while. You felt him look the side of your face, but you forced yourself to fix your gaze on anything other than your best friend beside you, your fingers fiddled with one another in your lap. “I guess I just haven’t caught anybody’s eyes yet. No one really likes me, you know.”

“I like you.”

“You know what I mean, Peter.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you sighed and took up the courage to meet his eyes. They weren’t holding any trails of pity like excepted. Instead, you gazed into nothing but a loving pool of honey that ignited clouds of warmth to swirl in your stomach. He looked at you in a way you couldn’t quite place, and you had to force yourself to look away, just barely missing the glint of disappointment as you broke the eye contact. You shrugged, an unsure smile gracing your lips. “Somebody will come along, I’m sure. Maybe at a hot dog stand. Hot dog stands are reliable, right?”

The tone in your voice, lacing your words like grapevine, was poisonous, making the boy beside you sit up and pull you right along. Your poor attempt of self-assurance didn’t sit right with Peter, but you didn’t feel like confronting it just yet, and he knew that. So, he tried to catch your gaze, and given that you had no other choice but to look at one of the most important people in your life, you dropped your shoulders and gave in. You simply stared at each other in silence, seemingly waiting for the other one to crack first. The serious situation quickly shifted into a comedic but intense stare battle and before you knew it, you were pulling faces at each other.

You were pretty certain, the alcohol in your system did not contribute a thing to it, but eventually, even the two of you would fall victim to it as you already felt it tuck at some loose strings. And Peter being Peter, he spoke up first.

“If neither of us cracks any time soon, we will both look like fools who escaped a mental institution and are roleplaying as Harley Quinn and the Joker.”

And just like that, laughter bubbled over your lips, prompting a face-splitting smile to dance on his lips while his eyes were staring at you like you had created all good in the world. It quickly turned into heartfelt laughter and once he joined in, it only made you laugh harder.

Your eyes drifted until they met those familiar honey ones again. The ones you have known since childhood, and the ones you had stared into one too many times tonight. And suddenly the entire world was encased into an incredulously large pool of amber that you never wanted to leave. It made sense. It just clicked, and suddenly the riddle was complete.

And the best part about it all was that you knew he felt the same way. He had never been an easy book to read, not even when you were children, but that night, in the middle of the football field, you could read him like he was your favorite poem. Each line and metaphor were as clear as the sky. Without having acknowledged it much, your face had grown closer in proximity with his. So, when he decided to speak, his voice was a hushed whisper. The alcohol easily fanning over your lips in waves.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” He inched closer, nose bumping against yours while his gaze danced between your lips and your eyes. “To find out how your lips feel on mine.”

His words caused newfound confidence to surge through your veins. The corner of your mouth quirked into a smirk, and you leaned forward. Lips brushing against his when you spoke. “I can put it on my to-do list if you want to know so badly.”

He chuckled, hand reaching up to cup your cheek while the other slid across your back. “Baby, you don’t understand how badly I want to know.”

He pressed his lips against yours, and immediately you sunk into the pool of amber. But you could taste more than just alcohol. There were honey and warmth. The way he made you feel—the way he had always made you feel all along, even in the most platonic ways. When cracking jokes or during shared detention. There had always been clouds of sweetness and joy surrounding you whenever he was near, but now that you had finally acquired the taste, you were addicted. You were making out with your best friend, and you loved everything about it. His arms tightened around you as you caressed his heated cheeks. They traveled to the back of his neck, threading through the curls of his hair, and pressing him closer to you.

When it was time to break away, you nibbled on his bottom lips, reluctantly parting, but still remaining close as his forehead rested against yours. He stared into your eyes with a whimsical smile while he tried to catch his breath. “Do you still hate me?”

You chuckled. “You know what, Parker?” Shaking your head, you tried to catch the train of thought you were losing just by gazing into his eyes. “Just a little bit.”

* * *

it’s 4 am here, and i’m pretty sure i’m sleeping as i’m typing this lol i had way too much fun with the dialogue. let me know what you think! as always, thank you so much for reading 💞 have a sweet one, guys x

masterlist

taglist: @honeypie-holland @himarisolace @duskholland @insidiousslut @siriuslyslyslytherin @quaksonhehe @geminiparkers @writertoo18 @fl0ating @luwloki @missnxthingg @hufflepuffhollander @dummiesshort @itstaskeen @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @totallyfangirling7177 @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @starlight-starks @fire1ordzuzu @parkerlovebot @parkerlovebot @ethereal-beauty-p @theweekendss @tom-hlover @peterspideysstuff @miraclesoflove @prettysbliss @fancyxparker @tom-hlover @blossomparkers

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #best friends to lovers

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maanae · 3 years

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The Court: Origins

Guess who wrote that instead of searching for an appart ? .-.

But kinda like it and I mean there's Hawkgirl so it can't be that bad (yes it's from the animated JL. I mean it's the best girl from that carton. Best. Girl.)

Ladybug and Chat Noir meet heros : Wonder Woman is the First (working in Paris ?) and she introduces them to the rest. Because they need help and decent backing. (shinanigans and awkwardiness are totally here, they're fans ok?) But it's a firm 'no' to any direct intervention from foreign heroes who doesn't manage his emotions (akumatized Superman... brr). But they need help. They send Martian Manhunter and Hawkgirl. (Wonder Woman would have come, with her own ties with the Miraculous and all, but she's already the ambassador of her people so can't.) Immediately, there are results. Crazy the efficacity of training right? (Master Fu gets an earful along the way, heroes don't like this Gardian way of his)

Ladybug is still his apprentice but she has back-up so she doesn't drown and she trains Chat Noir in secret from Fu. Because y'know, they're p a r t n e r s! (Hawkgirl called bullshit on the inequality between the two and Martian Manhunter said it was a good idea so). Ladybug and Chat Noir totally plan to rope Nino in it too. The Turtle always have more Gardian-vibe than the rest because Protection and Nino is Nino so he's trustworthy. (He could be Grand Gardian in the future but Ladybug is a martyr if anything else and she doesn't want to overburden him. She works on that. (And Chat Noir works on the "self-sacrificing" bit of his personality. Hawkgirl called bullshit on that too)).

They don't know each other's identity but when Chat Noir flirts and Ladybug complains they know it's more for fun than anything else. Sure, they have a tiny tiny crush on each other but they're heroes (teenage heroes) after all, they need the comic relief please.

Marinette and Adrian are more busy than ever and it's hard sometimes but they're not drowning and it's better than what could have been without the Justice League so they manage. Sure, Marinette doesn't design as much as before and Adrian runs on three hours of sleep tops but they manage! Sure they're in high school now but they're in seconde and it can be a lot of work but it's also the year the most laid back of high school so. They can do it.

With help, comes suspects. Did you think Martian Manhunter and Hawkgirl were here only as supports? They're might be not as detective-oriented as Batman but they have their own way to have answers. They're still heroes, even if they're not detectives. Chat Noir isn't happy when his father made it on the List and is a serious suspect. And he's not happy when Ladybug supports this theory with her own evidence either. And sure his suspects are believable too but he overlooks Gabriel completely and Ladybug is not impressed with him (Lila comes back at the same time and Marinette is not impressed with Adrien either.) Maybe their argument and all the yelling gave away their identities a little too quickly. Oups.

They ignore each other for two good weeks, in class like in battle, before Hawkgirl forces them to talk. (Communication is important kids). It's not a fun conversation. They somewhat forgive each other even if it's strain in the first weeks. But they work on it (because frienships too need work) and they come to it at least! And sure Hawkmoth landed some good hits during that time but they always win, good relationship or not. They're professionnals guys.

And maybe they become so close they're often taken for a couple. Except she gives him advices about Kagami and he's pushing her in Luka's arms. They're often saying they're more like siblings if ask. At some point Adrien is all but officially adopted by the Dupain-Cheng. (The Lahiffe tried but hey, a whole bakery. They can't hold a candle to that.) It was a happy few months despite the stress and the akumas and amoks. Even with Lila. (because the class isn't full of idiots, yes they find Lila great and yes her war with Marinette and Adrien is weird but they're friends either way. They just... don't go out at the same time with them. They take turns. They think of something to make it work. Because being friends with a whole class is cute but not realistic.)

And then there is a conversation who strucks odd to Adrien. Not even a conversation, just an off-hand comment. Barely a "make sure Duusu obey correctly next time". Just a few seconds. Adrien wouldn't have think of anything if he didn't exactly knew who was Duusu. Oups x2. He took it pretty bad. Poor Chat.

Their plan is simple - in theory (well, more or less, it's still Ladybug we speak of). A sort of "breaking & entering" with thief!Marinette and complice!Adrian. Martian Manhunter in invisibility mode scoots the hallways before the two and Hawkgirl is at the end of the formation, ready for all he can throw at them. Of course it comes crashing down. La faute à pas de chance like we say in French - they come during the Night of Hawkmoth (the one random night in the week where Hawkmoth akumatises someone from a nightmare - look, he needs to sleep to). So when Adrian lets Ladyfox enter, the illusions doesn't fool the high-security systems and he prepares. Time for Scarlet Moth to shine!

He doesn't go to the confrontation this coward - he knows they will kick his ass with their training and help of the Justice League. Nah, he creates several really destructive akumas. Y'know. Criminals and the such he carefully avoided before. Trumps cards! Mayura joins not long after. It's a massacre. They need help. Big help. Big like all the box. (And Not the Justice League because maybe Scarlet Moth isn't at his limit and they can't risk it.)

So they recruit. Rena Rouge, Carapace, Hornet (Queen Bee 2.0), Ryuko, Viperion, Bunnyx, and sometimes random people whom the kwamis sense they have a greater affinity than the other persons in their class. It's still bad. They die - a lot. All of them, except Bunnyx. The number of times she jumped from her Burrow to protect a fellow hero is... frightening. Sometimes she made them exchange their miraculous, to better suit their affinities and needs. It lasts three days.

They win! Somewhat. They're... not broken, almost, mourning their innocence and deeply hurt. But they're alive and Paris is standing and Hawkmoth and Mayura are not - yet - winners so. They take what they can.

Ladybug and Chat Noir don't take back the Miraculous from those who want to fight with them. Some people can't be heroes, can't have the mental for it. Others are desesperate to stop this. And others still are born for it - like them. Hawkgirl and Martian Manhunter agreed to train them - they're not in their best mindset either (they didn't see so much destruction since their last world-ending event, it's not an everyday occurrence even for them) but they're adults, professionals. The kids need them so they help, of course. The Court is born, with new heroes and new names. Too many has been compromised during the battle to keep their old, and... they are not the same as before either. Dame Chance (Ladybug - Marinette), Cat Sìth (Cat - Adrian), Alya (Tiger - Tigris), Nino (Turtle - Shield), Chloé (Bee - Hornet), Kagami (Dragon - Kinryu), Luka (Snake - Ouroboros), Alix (Bunny - Bunnyx), Nathaniel (Fox - Renart), Allegra (Rooster - Mélodie), Bridgette (Ox - Niú), Claude (Horse - Kid Mime) and Alan (Dog - Gavroche).

From here, it's hell. Hawkmoth and Mayura send akumas and sentimonsters at a frenetic pace, sometimes switching with a Scarlet Moth Situation (not too otfen because it costs a great deal of energy but at least one on three days). Life in Paris is impossible, the city is lock down, the civilians need to stay home for their security and the heroes all but stop to live. They move in the QG Hawkgirl and Martian Manhunter set up at the beginning and scheme. Identities don't matter (and that's an interesting conversation), sleeping, eating, all of that is pushed aside. They can't deal with distractions. That's also a interesting conversation. (Look, some of them don't lose their priorities. Sleep and food are not distractions. But go say that to Marinette, hah.) But nevertheless, their lifes are put on hold for their hunt (and training. the new heroes need it.) No need to say, they're on a fine line from madness.

It lasts two weeks (an eternity) before they attack. The battle is horrible - like all battles - and the Court is spread across all Paris to protect it from the akumas and sentimonsters. Against Hawkmoth and Mayura, it's only Dame Chance, Cat Sìth, Ouroboros, Kinryu and Martian Manhunter.

They win. Finally. And they sleep the month after that, because trauma (very much so), adrenaline and - just - their bodies shut down. Especially Marinette and Adrian.

Now, the Box is used as almost full capacity. Nino has the Turtle. So Fu is like 'cool, Marinette is ready!' Hence Marinette is Grand Guardian at 16 (joy. so much.) and as first decision names Adrian and Nino Guardians with her. Fu isn't too please. She doesn't give a flying fuck.

After Hawkmoth Alya, Nathaniel, Bridgette and Claude gave back their miraculous (they were heroes when needed but it isn't a life they want).

The next two years are a lot of juggling between training, learning, apprenticeship and heroing but nowhere near the intensity of their first two years.

Because the Court is still active. Even without Hawkmoth and Mayura (by the way Nooroo and Duusu are absolutely being pampered in the box), they remained active, help the police and all. Especially with the new risk of attacks from terrorists (they couldn't prevent the bombs, only help afterwards and that was... hard. Definitely more so than Hawkmoth because the Cure can't revive these victims. There wasn't any Miraculous involved - only plain, old, ugly humanity).

Btw the Justice League is on speed dial in case they need help for a magical/miraculous/world-ending event and because they're allies now but they're not part of it.

So yes they're heroes but they're teenagers too. Marinette and Luka date one year before they break up and remain friends (and maybe she has a little something with Kagami at one point. maybe), Adrien discovers preferring guys, Nino and Alya are still as in love as ever. They grow up, they graduate high school. Some stay in Paris, others go discover the world.

Alya made a name for herself with the Ladyblog and has a brilliant carrier ahead of her, already thinking of doing something similar to Lois Lane : war reporter, then specialising herself in heroics. She wants to be the best and knows damn well what she needs to do for that (Lila be damned). Chloé flourishes in New York, attempting business and politics degrees (nobody else see Chloe as Mayor of Gotham? I think it would suit her - a broken city needing her help and power. pretty much her). Luka makes soundtracks for movies and makes a name for himself ; in the same sector, Allegra joins the National Orchestra of France. Nino chooses a degree in the cinema, DJing in the weekend. Adrian works with Sabine and Tom, training to inherit, one day, the bakery - Gabriel crumbled with his father and he has no intention to ever build it back. Kagami trains for the Olympics. Alix goes for a degree in archeology - following her family and her miraculous. The comic series relating the aventures of the Court by Nathaniel and Mark is a huge success, assuring their own place in the world. Allan go to Japan for a degree in languages. Bridgette and Marinette goes to China to visit their family (they're totally cousins) and for their respective studies in communication and fashion.

Paris is heartbroken and very concerned when Dame Chance and Cat Sìth disapear but the Ladyblog remains active so they can explain that they're young, they want to learn to live in this world and they need to attends some Miraculous matters - but of course if Paris or the France or even the world need their help one day, they'd come back.

At 23, Marinette, Adrian, Nino and Alix take a gap year and go to Tibet. Because they're not civilians despite their somewhat inactivity and their Court is cool but they very much need to think about the future, the after them. So they need to rebuild the Order.

Oh. The League/The Untitled/a great bad. Coucou. (book 2?)

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babybluebex · 4 years

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washed in the blood [arvin russell x reader]

➽ pairing: arvin russell x fem!reader(y/n) ➽ word count: 2.8k ➽ summary: based on a request i got but deleted :( “if you’re still taking requests, can i request an arvin russell smut fic based on the scene where he gets picked up, but instead he’s picked up by the reader and her (soon to be) ex, she plans on breaking it off because he’s a sleeze, and arvin notices tension. one thing leads to another, and the two ditch the ex and have sex in the motel room” ➽ warnings: explicit language, ab*se mentions, de*th mentions ➽ a/n: full disclosure, i changed this to not have smut. lol. enjoy!

Hitchhikers were a normal thing for Ohio. In the rural parts, not too many people had cars, and buses didn’t run that far out, so people hitched rides wherever they could. Even if you were fortunate enough to have a car, there was a thrill about sticking your thumb out and seeing who you’d be riding with. My mother always tried to dissuade me from hitchhiking, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, as far as I’m concerned. On the other hand, she never said anything about being on the other end of the deal.

I loved picking up hitchhikers. Most times, they were yippies, trying to make their way to California. Even if you were just going as far as ten miles away from the pickup point, they were thankful. I got along with mostly everyone-- a superpower, my boyfriend called it-- and I could always find something to talk about. Where words failed, the radio helped. Music always got people talking, even if it was to talk about how much they hated the song.

Meade, Ohio was a quiet place. I grew up there, so I guess that’s why I always talked so much: to fill the perpetual silence. As soon as I graduated from Meade Central High School, I gathered everything I owned (which wasn’t much), and headed out west towards Cincinnati. There wasn’t much there from what I’ve heard, but it had to be better than Meade. If there wasn’t anything for me in Cin City, I would go further west-- Indianapolis maybe, or perhaps further than that to Chicago. To get there, though, I had to get the fuck out of Ohio.

The smoke from my cigarette danced out of my open window as I drove through the hills. My conversation with my mother was playing like a cracked vinyl in my head, her begging me to stay in Meade. I had asked what was here for me, and my mother had tightened her jaw. “Nothing, I suppose,” she had said. “With an attitude like that, there’s nothing for you anywhere.” With an attitude like mine, I argued back, the whole world was ripe for my taking. My mother had always been controlling. I couldn’t wear pants or smoke or even wear bright makeup, and seeing my friends do all of that and more was tortuous. Of course I loved my mother and knew that she was right, but I wanted to find that out for myself rather than being told that. I crested a hill, the radio crackling in and out as I lost the station, and I saw a man a few yards ahead of me. He held his body like it was a burden, his arm limp as he stuck his thumb out. As my car approached, he turned to look at me, and I slowed to a stop. A moment passed where his eyes locked with mine through the glass windshield, and he rushed to the passenger door. In he came, tossing his knapsack into my backseat, and he huffed out a tired sigh once the door was closed.

“Where ya headed?” I asked.

“Umm…” He began. His eyes fell to his lap, looking for an answer, and he finally said, “I dunno.”

“Right,” I said. “I’m heading to Circleville, so if you got any place between here and there, just let me know.”

The man nodded slowly. His cheeks were red, his forehead shiny with perspiration, and his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. “Thanks,” he said. “I… I’m Arvin.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Y/N.” I started the car back, continuing my journey to the last destination in my tour of Ohio. My boyfriend had found out about my flee, despite my attempts to try to slip away undetected, and he begged me to meet him in Circleville to at least say goodbye. He went to college in Columbus, hence why I chose Cincinnati instead. There was more in Columbus, but I wanted a place where nobody knew me to start over. “Fiddle with the radio if you want to. I’m not partial to any kind of music.”

“Me neither,” Arvin said. There was a pause, then he reached forward and began to tune the radio. Channels faded in and out, Elvis and Beach Boys making varied appearances as my radio struggled to pick up a channel for more than a few seconds at a time, and finally it picked up a station. Church hymns. Sure. Arvin seemed satisfied with the selection, because he leaned back, and he tugged his blue baseball cap off.

I could feel the stiffness radiating off of Arvin, and I rolled my neck as I tried to come up with something to say. I looked at my cigarette, the butt stained with the red lipstick that my mother had forbidden, and I held it out to him. “Want the rest?” I asked. “I’m feeling pretty finished, but I don’t wanna waste it, ya know?”

“S’long as it ain’t an American Spirit,” Arvin mumbled and let out another huff, more of a laugh than before.

“God, no!” I chuckled. “What kinda girl do you take me for, sir?”

Arvin cracked the faintest smile, and he took the cigarette from my waiting hand. “Girls I went to high school with smoked shit like that,” he said and took a drag. “Just making sure I knew who I’m with.”

“How long ago was that?” I asked.

“Like…” Arvin began. “May.”

“This May?” I asked, and Arvin nodded. “Neat. I just graduated too.”

“Thank God, right?” Arvin mumbled, the cigarette now resting against his bottom lip. “Hated that place. I’d rather go to the fuckin’ war than go back to high school.”

“Me too,” I said. “I got teased and pushed around all the time. Same for you?”

Arvin shrugged. “I was fine,” he said. “My little sister, though… She got picked on. I got in trouble a lot for beating up her bullies, or getting beat up by them. I would do that a million more times, though, if it meant I could help her.”

“How old is she?” I asked. “I only ask ‘cause I got a sister who just started high school.”

Arvin shifted and tugged the cigarette out of his mouth. “She was sixteen,” he said.

“Was?” I repeated.

“She… Died,” Arvin said. “S’more complicated than that, but…”

“Jesus Christ, Arv, I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “That… That really fucking sucks.”

“It does,” Arvin said. “She got killed.”

My jaw tightened as I tried to imagine the grief that this poor man had been through. My own heart hurt just from thinking of it. I would hurt anyone, except for anyone that hurt my sister. “Well,” I sighed. “Do you know who did it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Arvin laughed. “I know.”

“Did you go to the police?” I asked.

“We don’t have police in Coal Creek, West Virginia,” Arvin told me. “Too small for it, and there’s hardly any need for them anyway.”

I managed a weak laugh. “If I knew who it was that killed my little sister, they wouldn't be alive for much longer after that. I’d kill them myself.”

Arvin nodded. He said nothing else.

Eventually, the radio station came in clearer, signaling our entrance into Circleville. My boyfriend had specified where he wanted to meet me, and the gravel of the parking lot crunched under my car as I steered my way into the diner. “It’s been nice meeting you, Arvin,” I said. The brake squealed as I engaged it, and Arvin nodded before pulling his cap further down onto his head.

“You too,” he said. “I’m gonna grab me something to eat real quick, then I’ll be on my way… Just didn’t want ya thinkin’ I was following you in there.”

“I wouldn’t have minded if you were,” I shrugged. “Got any idea of where you’re going now?”

“Not yet,” Arvin said. “I’ll probably hitch a ride somewhere else. Maybe with someone who doesn’t listen to hymns in her free time.”

“You put the station on!” I exclaimed with a giggle. “Don’t go blaming me!”

“You coulda changed it,” Arvin offered, stepping out of the car. He reached and grabbed his bag, and I rested my arms on the roof of my car.

“You coulda kept looking for a different station,” I fired back.

“You coulda kept your big mouth shut about music,” Arvin said.

“I coulda left your ass on the side of the road,” I said. “But I didn’t.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t.”

Arvin gave me the first real smile I had seen from him, and he flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground. “Let’s get something to eat,” he said. “I could argue ‘bout this all day.”

“You just might be able to,” I said. I grabbed my handbag from the floor of the car, and Arvin walked beside me into the diner. I spotted Harry immediately in the back corner, and I took a deep breath. The whole ride here, I knew that I was planning on ending things with him, but, now that I was here, I was doubting myself heavily. Could I survive in the world without a man there to fall back on? It seemed so impossible all of the sudden. I wanted to back away. Walk backwards and get back in the car and go back home.

“Hey,” a gentle voice said from my side, and I turned to see Arvin still standing by me. “Whatever you’re gonna do, I can bet it’s better than anything I’ve ever done.”

“How do you know I’m gonna do anything?” I asked. “Maybe I’m just having lunch with my boyfriend.”

“Right,” Arvin said slowly. “And that’s why your face went all white when you saw him.” He gave me a pointed look, then a quick wink, and he went to the counter to order.

“Who was that?” Harry asked as I approached the table he was sat at. No hug or kiss or any greeting that a boyfriend would normally give; just an interrogation.

“Hitchhiker I picked up,” I said. “We’re gonna head on to Cincinnati once we’re done here.”

“Goddamn it, Y/N,” Harry sighed. “You’re still on this Cincinnati business?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked. “It’s the only place for me.”

“And what about me?” Harry asked. “What about here? We could have a life here, but you--”

“We sure could have a life,” I told him. “But you have to start it, Harry. I’ve waited for you for years and I’m tired. I want my own life now.”

“Were we supposed to get married when you were still in high school?” Harry asked.

“Other girls got engaged,” I said. “Harry, I’m done. I… I don’t want whatever you want to give me. I want to be on my own, make my own name, ya know?”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls now,” Harry sighed, wiping his hand down his face.

“I--” I started, then straightened up. “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. I’m going to do what I want, and I am not sorry about it. You had your chance, but I’m done.”

“Done?” Harry scoffed. “You’re not done. Not with me, not now.”

“Yes, with you,” I said. “And, yes, now. I… I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” I got up from the table, trying to keep my cool, but Harry had other ideas.

“No,” he said, and he grabbed my wrist tightly. “You’re not leaving me, you bitch.”

“Watch me,” I told him, and I tried to pry my arm around him. “Let go of me.”

“You’re gonna stay here with me,” Harry said. “You’ll never survive on your own.”

“How do we know for sure if I don’t try?” I asked.

“‘Cause you’re too dumb to anything for yourself,” Harry said. “You know it’s true. You’ll get eaten up in the real world. The world ain’t like Meade, it’s mean and it’ll kill you. You need to settle down with me, and I’ll do everything for you.”

“You’re not gonna change my mind, Harry,” I said. “Get your stinkin’ hand off of me.”

Suddenly, there was a presence next to me, and I looked to see Arvin standing there. His face was as hard as stone, his jaw set firmly, and his brown eyes boring deadly holes into Harry. “I think,” he began with his deep gravel. “You oughta leave her alone.”

“Who the hell are you?” Harry asked. “The hitchhiker?”

“I am,” Arvin said. “And I can be a lot worse. Leave her be, and I’ll leave you be.”

“You’re a funny guy,” Harry chuckled. “C’mon, Y/N, let’s sit down and have some lunch.”

Arvin was quiet as he pushed his jean jacket aside, and I felt my blood run cold at the sight. Tucked into the waistband of his denim pants was a wooden tool, one that was obviously the butt end of a handgun. Had he had that the whole time? I hadn’t noticed it when he was in the car next to me, but maybe he hadn’t wanted me to see it. “You need to let go of her,” Arvin said. “And let her leave. And you ain’t ever gonna talk to her again.”

“Are you threatening me?” Harry asked.

“Oh, it ain’t a threat,” Arvin chuckled lowly. “It’s a promise. I’ve done worse to men better than you.”

“I bet,” Harry said. “You don’t have the gall to do it.”

“You wanna bet?” Arvin asked. “I’ve had a hard day. You’d make my tally a solid five.”

“That’s hard to believe,” Harry scoffed. “Y/N--”

“No,” I said quickly. I had no reason to back Arvin on his ridiculous claim, but if it made Harry leave me alone… “Harry. He’s serious. You’re gonna wanna leave.”

Harry looked from me to Arvin, then down to the gun. “Where did you find him?” Harry asked.

“Why does it matter?” I asked. “Just go. Don’t call me, don’t worry yourself with me. Just leave me alone.”

“A regular Bonnie and Clyde, huh?” Harry said softly. “I hope y’all find whatever you’re looking for in Cincinnati.”

“We will,” Arvin said quickly, and he adjusted his jacket to cover the gun once more. “Have a good day now, ya hear?”

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I moved myself back to the car, and I watched Arvin settle back where he was before the diner. My hand hovered by the ignition, my mind wanting me to put the keys in but my hand refusing to cooperate, and I finally swallowed. “Why you got a gun?” I asked.

“You heard me,” Arvin said and sniffed. “Killed four people.”

“That’s real funny, Arv, but I’m being serious,” I said.

“And why do you think I’m not?” Arvin asked. “I don’t care too much for lying.”

“Oh, but you’ll excuse killing?” I gasped. “Arvin, Jesus Roosevelt Christ! You haven’t really killed people, have you?”

“You told me not an hour ago that you’d kill anyone who hurt your sister,” Arvin said, turning his gaze to me. “What makes you think that I wouldn’t do the same?”

“I don’t know!” I cried. “I… I don’t know. I just thought… Arvin, that was a joke.”

“Not to me,” Arvin said. “He was a fucking bastard. He raped my sister and got her pregnant, and he didn’t want nothing to do with her. She trusted him, and he discarded her like trash, and she ended up hanging by her neck in our barn. The world is better off without that horse’s ass.”

I chewed on my tongue. Was it better to know? Or was this knowledge a curse? I wanted to ask about the others he claimed to have killed; a morbid curiosity. “Get outta my car,” I whispered. Arvin laughed lightly, and I clamped my hands on the steering wheel. “I’m not joking, Arvin. Get out.” “

Why?” Arvin asked. “You worried I’m gonna kill you too?”

“No,” I said. “But I make efforts to not associate with murderers. Get out of my car.”

“I killed a sheriff too,” Arvin told me. “And two others, but all three of them were tryna kill me, so I think it was mighty justified. What do you think, darling?”

Heat and ice battled inside my chest. I wanted to kick him out and leave him for the police to find, but I couldn’t do that. We had connected immediately, and there was no telling what else fate had in store for him. He was so obviously hurt. Maybe he needed somebody around. Maybe he wanted somebody around. He seemed to be trying awful hard to keep me around. I pushed, but he pulled. “You might’ve done it, but I can’t say I blame you,” I mumbled. “Still wanting to go to Cincinnati?”

“Wherever you’re going, I am too.”

#arvin russell #tom holland #the devil all the time #tdatt #fanfic #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell x y/n #arvin russell angst #mine

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 3 - Bodega

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, is it a date?, 2.7k

WARNINGS: cancer mention, lines in Spanish will have translations in the tags

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes me these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2

Alex followed the gentle clack-clack-clack of the wheels eagerly, watching as Willie glided this way and that through the street. He shoved down the thought that his walk was only going to be a short one. After a few blocks, Willie slowed to a stop outside a bodega and waited for Alex to catch up before going inside.

“Hola, ese!” The guy behind the counter called as they entered.

Willie nodded and raised his eyebrows at him in greeting, lifting off his helmet and leaning his board against the wall of the counter. Immediately, an orange striped cat hopped up onto the surface with an excited little ‘prrrrp?’ and approached so Willie could pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said, massaging behind the cat’s ears as it rubbed its head aggressively against his shirt. Then, Sheldon sniffed Alex’s sleeve in curiosity as he stood timidly amid the unfamiliar.

“He’s friendly,” Willie assured. “Unless you’re allergic,” he added cautiously.

Alex smiled as he took the cat’s face in his hands, rubbing the sweet spots on his neck.

“No, good thing I’m not.” Sheldon was already purring, the sound soothing Alex’s slight shakiness. Willie smoothed the fur along his back.

“Have you been good today?” he asked in a baby voice.”You been treating Escobar right?” The cat meowed and rubbed against Willie’s chest.

“He caught two mice this morning,” The man, whom Alex assumed was Escobar, said. He was trying to wipe what looked like grease on his hands. “He’s happy because I gave him sardines.”

“Thanks, man,” Willie told him. “By the way, this is Alex.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alex said, realizing his hands had been gripping his fanny pack anxiously and loosening them.

“Good to meet you, Alex,” Escobar offered his wrist to shake, his hand being dirty. Alex shook it awkwardly and then Sheldon pushed his way in between and rubbed his head against his hand. Willie laughed.

“He seems to really like you,” he said.

“All I did was pet him,” Alex replied.

“Well, if Willie likes someone, the cat usually does, too,” Escobar informed him.

Alex smiled, unsure what to say to that.

“Que pasó con tu mano?” Escobar directed to Willie in concern, looking pointedly at his hand.

Willie only laughed and lifted the hand in question.

“Scrapes everyday,” was all he had to say.

The man only shook his head as he moved to put away the rag he’d been wiping his hands on.

“Te tienes que cuidarte mejor,” he said as he came back to the counter. “So what are we eating today?”

“We’ll see,” Willie said. He turned to Alex. “Do you want anything?”

He blinked, flustered.

“Are you - are you sure?” The words it’s not a date, it’s not a date, began repeating in his head incessantly. Right? A guy can buy another guy he just met food...after inviting him to follow him...on his way to get food….

“Yeah, I’ve got you covered,” Willie told him, moving over to a part of the counter where a sandwich menu was posted on top of it. Alex felt a bass drum going in his chest and tapped his toe to mimic it, hoping he could play it off as just taking time to decide.

“Take your time, amigos, I gotta wash my hands real quick,” Escobar said before disappearing.

“I don’t understand most of what he says,” Willie murmured so only Alex could hear. “But I get the general idea.”

He could only smirk in response. Perusing the menu, Alex quickly made a selection, still hesitant about accepting Willie’s offer. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around the bodega. He’d been to a few around L.A. but they all had their differences. This one was rather spacious, with some tables set up outside, and of course the sandwiches were an uncommon feature.

“So,” Willie started, grabbing his attention. “Do you often follow strangers through the city?”

Alex exhaled nervously, only then realizing what he’d just done.

“No,” he shook his head. Willie leaned on the counter, smirking. “No, this is kind of a first. Why, do you get followed a lot?”

Willie only bit his lip and shook his head. They chuckled together for a moment.

“I just come here every day during my lunch break,” Willie explained. “To check on Sheldon. Figured if you were game, you’d come.”

Alex looked at him in confusion.

“You explained none of that back there; you just nodded.”

“And yet….” Willie said, gesturing toward him. The unspoken truth hovered between them so potently Alex expected to receive a static shock.

“So...is Sheldon your cat?” he asked to diffuse the tension. Sheldon perked up at the sound of his name and pattered over to them.

“Yeah,” Willie responded as if he’d been distracted by his thoughts for a second. “I found him a few months ago and he was just really sick and weak and I couldn’t leave him like that, so Escobar was nice to let me keep him here since I can’t have him with me.”

“Why can’t you - ” Alex began before Escobar came back through, rubbing his newly cleaned hands.

“Okay, primos, we ready?” he asked.

“Yep!” Willie said, flashing a look to Alex that he’d answer him later. “Just the usual for me. You know what you want, Alex?”

“The, uh, chicken panini,” he said quickly. He glanced over at Willie again and got a tiny nod that yes, he was fine to get a sandwich. As Escobar got to work making them, they went over to the tables outside and sat down.

“I figured I could thank you a little bit, considering the generous tip I got this morning,” Willie said.

Alex swallowed, remembering how hard he had to convince the boys to leave a good deal of money so Willie could get into the show in the evening. It wasn’t until Bobby had made up something about getting more fans that got Luke and Reggie to agree. In retrospect, the count of bold decisions he was making that day was record-breaking.

“I wouldn’t have asked you to return a favor,” he said. “But I do appreciate the sandwich.” He felt Sheldon rub against his leg.and smiled as he looked down. “You weren’t kidding when you said he was friendly. This is the happiest cat I’ve ever met.”

Willie nodded. “He’s changed so much since we found him.”

He paused and just looked at Alex for a moment.

“You don’t relax much, huh?” he wondered aloud in a soft manner.

Alex looked down at his hands once again keeping a death grip on the strap of his fanny pack, released them, and put them down in his lap.

“No better time to start than now, right?” he said, taking in a couple deep breaths. He couldn’t help it. One look at Willie made him feel like time fell from orbit - whatever that meant. His hands still needed something to do though, so he pulled out his drumsticks again and lightly tapped on the edge of the table. Willie bobbed his head to the rhythm, scrunching his nose.

After a few minutes, they heard Escobar call out and they went to collect their sandwiches. Willie glanced at the clock above them and grabbed his board.

“I don’t know how, but it’s already almost time to head back,” he said.

Alex hadn’t figured him to care about punctuality, but took his sandwich from Escobar, ready to follow Willie back toward the hotel. There was no chance he would find his way back alone. Escobar wagged a finger for him to come closer. Nervously, Alex leaned toward the counter.

“Tú tienes cara de fresa,” he said, to which Alex only blinked cluelessly. “Pero me caes bien.” The man simply nodded, smiling slightly. Alex looked between him and Willie, neither of them offering a translation.

“Th...thanks,” he stuttered. He leaned down and scratched Sheldon’s head to bid adieu.

“I’ll be back later for Sheldon,” Willie told Escobar as they exited.

Before Willie mounted his board, he got a few good bites into his sandwich. They had gotten about half a block away before Alex dared to ask.

“Do you have any clue what he said to me?”

“I think it was a compliment,” Willie said, mouth slightly full of food.

They continued back toward the hotel, eating their sandwiches as Alex simply ruminated over everything that had just transpired. Willie glanced over occasionally, always with a smile, and clearly travelling slower than he had before so he didn’t leave Alex too far behind. As they finally approached their destination, Willie dismounted his board for a moment.

“Hey,” he said, the soft tone Alex had heard earlier coming back. “Thanks for going with me. It was nice.”

Alex smiled, momentarily losing his entire working vocabulary to giddiness.

“No problem,” he said finally. “See you around?”

Willie nodded.

“See you around.”

Back at the Pearl, the band was set up for their sound check. Luke was an uncontained mass of energy at this point - kissing his rabbit’s foot countless times, swinging his arm tie around to see how far a distance he could hit people from, and his hands rarely leaving his guitar. Alex had a feeling it was only going to get worse the second he saw Julie. They all assembled on the stage and took up their instruments, waiting for the sound tech to instruct them.

“Okay, Reggie, give us a line,” was heard from the booth. Reggie improvised a bass lick on the spot for about thirty seconds, which was far more than the sound guys needed. It was a wicked line, though, and Alex couldn’t blame him for riding it out. He could see Luke and Bobby raising their eyebrows, hoping they could play with it later.

The techs guided them through the instruments one by one, then microphones, and then prepared for them to play together. This was the first time they were all playing with earpieces to hear everything properly and it was certainly an exciting change. Alex could hear them almost as if he were listening to their own demo and he couldn’t describe the feeling.

On cue, Luke played the opening riff to Now or Never and the energy immediately flowed as they all joined him.

“Take off, last stop, count down till we blast open the top…”

Nothing like getting to play to take the edge off of everything. He’d started the day early and thought there would be nothing more nerve-wracking than getting on this stage. Sure, he knew he could do it, but the pressure to somehow gain the support of hundreds more people in one go had been mounting on him the last few days. Fans who came to him after shows and told him that he made a difference to them? That he was something more than just an awkward teen who was bullied for being gay and having nut allergies? It was surreal. Alex wanted to keep reality close most of the time. Making music was the exception where he was happy to escape.

They finished the song, and as Alex swept his hair out of his eyes he saw a figure stand up from sitting in the middle of the empty venue, clapping their hands.

“You guys, that was phenomenal!” Julie Molina was saying, making her way onto the stage.

“Julie!” all of the guys cried out, nearly in unison. Luke was already bounding over as she made her way up to the stage. Reggie and Bobby lifted the straps off their guitars and followed suit as Alex casually brought up the rear.

“Hey guys,” Julie said, returning all of their high-fives and fist bumps. “I’m so excited for tonight, we’re going to have a good show.”

“I’m ready for us to blow everybody away,” Luke said enthusiastically. Alex, Reggie and Bobby exchanged knowing looks but refrained from commenting. Julie probably thought he was talking about the band. Luke probably thought the same, funnily enough.

“I have my own sound check to do, but it’ll be good to hang with you guys until the show opens,” she told them.

“Can we stick around and watch?” Luke asked.

Julie shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, go ahead!”

“Sweet!” Reggie said, already taking a seat. Bobby settled down next to him while Alex took the seat behind them.

He remembered when they met her it was at some battle of the bands out in Bakersfield. She’d been part of the duo Double Trouble, and her friend Flynn had gotten sick shortly before they were supposed to go on. She took the stage anyway and had the audience at her feet, and Alex had never seen Luke so entranced. At the end, they invited her to jam until they were forced to shut down at about one in the morning. Everything that had transpired in those few hours was unforgettable, and the guys agreed they would all gladly do it again.

That was a year ago. Now, with her first album out, the guys had all been stoked to get the call to open for her. Alex was pretty sure Luke had been keeping tabs on her the whole time, and he likely didn’t realize how obvious it was. There was something about the way he got very defensive when the guys occasionally suggested going back to the songs they’d gotten started with her, and how he refused to do it without her.

The four of them sat mesmerized as Julie’s fingers elicited the most heartfelt and energizing melodies from the piano. A soft, swelling joy came over Alex, and he wanted to give Julie the strongest hug when she finished. Her music was touching and he couldn’t help but need to express that to her. Peeking at the two below him, he saw Reggie clearly shedding some tears and Bobby clenching his fist because it wasn’t the right moment to wipe them away.

Suddenly one of the crew members walked onto the stage, making Julie stop playing. He muttered something to her that the boys couldn't hear. She sat straight with fear in her eyes and hurried backstage without a word. Luke turned around to look at the rest of his band and they all mirrored his concern. Slowly, they rose and headed toward the green room where they found Julie on the phone.

“Dad, what happened?” she was saying, audibly shaking.

Alex held out a hand and they all stopped in their tracks. He looked at Luke and shook his head. Whatever they were hearing, he figured she didn’t want them listening in on. Luke knit his eyebrows, and Alex could see the internal fight going on in his mind as he considered staying to comfort her or giving her space. After a moment he nodded to Alex and they pulled back into one of the dressing rooms.

None of them said a word as they waited. Alex pulled out his drumsticks and tapped them on his knees to fight off the rising anxiety in his chest. Nobody bothered looking at the clock and nobody made eye contact. Those three words they’d heard repeated on a loop in Alex’s brain, and he was sure they were in the minds of the others. That hug he had thought about giving felt both highly necessary and very inadequate, and he didn’t even know what the phone call was about.

After some time, Julie appeared in the doorway. She looked around at all of them and breathed deeply.

“My mom is in the hospital right now,” she said soberly. “She’s been in cancer treatment for a few months now and it was in remission, but it’s coming back."

Her eyes remained cast toward the floor, and each of the guys hesitated to move.

"I can't cancel tonight, but…" she began saying. Luke raised a hand to cover his face, clearly afraid of the rest of that sentence.

"I'm sorry guys, but I need some time to myself." She left, but Alex saw her face twist with pain before she was completely out of sight and he thought he felt his heart snap in two. Everyone looked at Luke as he sat at a loss for words.

Finally, Luke straightened up and a calm fierceness took over his countenance.

"We gotta make tonight the best, you guys, you hear me?"

Each of them nodded solemnly.

"Alright. We aren't legends for ourselves, tonight. We're legends for Julie."

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considermewhelmed · 4 years

Text

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths- Tim Drake

TW: attempted su*c*de/su*c*dal thoughts, anxiety, depression.

a/n: hey remember in the Master when I said these would be short fics? Ha. Yeah. Me too. Good times.

Tag list: @river9noble

Master

“Achilles, Achilles, Achilles come down/Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof?/You’re scaring us and all of us/Some of us love you/Achilles it’s not much but there’s proof.”

“You may feel no purpose/Nor a point for existing/It’s all just conjecture and gloom/And there may not be meaning/So find one and seize it/Do not waste yourself on this roof/Hear those bells ring deep in the soul/Chiming away for a moment/Feel your breath course frankly below/And see life as a worthy opponent.”

Tim stood on the edge of the building, overlooking the city. His cape billowed lightly in the cool air, and he took a deep breath.

‘Red Robin, report.’ Barbra’s voice asked in his ear.

Tim remained silent, his eyes scanning the streets, but his mind far away.

‘Red Robin, report.’ She repeated.

‘Red Robin, are you okay?’

A new voice broke onto the comms.

Dick.

He had been thinking a lot. About Dick. And Damian. Bruce. Steph. Babs. Duke. Luke. Cass. Kate even. There were just… so many of them. So many. One less surely wouldn’t matter?

He imagined he wouldn’t get a huge memorial like the one for Jason in the batcave- he was choosing this, he did it himself, there was no honour in that. He didn’t mind though, he wasn’t sure he even cared to be remembered.

They barely remembered him alive, why would death help?

He wondered how long it would take them to forget him. The voice is the first thing you forget about a person, when was the last time he talked to them all?

‘Red Robin, where are you?’ Dick.

‘Is his comm offline?’ Steph.

‘No, it’s online. It should be working. Receiver and all.’ Barbra.

‘Red Robin?’ Dick.

He looked down. He’d survived some pretty unlikely things, but this was too much. Too high. There was no way his heart could take his fall, let alone the pavement below waiting for his body. It called his name, whispering the promises of sweet relief with every breeze, the streetlight spotlight marking his entrance to his final bow.

‘Can you get his tracker online?’ Dick.

‘Red Robin, come in.’ Bruce.

‘No. He’s bypassed the security.’ Barbra.

‘Really Drake?’ Damian. ‘Sneaking off during patrol?’

‘Red Robin, report.’ Bruce- and Tim imagined he sounded worried in the way only Batman could be.

‘Where was his route?’ Dick.

Tim tuned them out, but couldn’t bring himself to turn the comms off completely. He didn’t have the heart to be alone- he was selfish and desperate.

He shrugged off the cape, letting it fall to the rooftop, and quietly unclipped his utility belt. He wished he felt scared, or sad, or anything, but instead he just felt numb. Human instinct should be trying to get him back safely to the solid roof behind him, but instead he just swayed in the wind, as if even his own body was impartial to the decision.

He closed his eyes and sighed quietly, rolling his shoulders back, resigning to his fate. There was no use in fighting anymore.

That was it. He felt something. Tired.

Not just tired. Exhausted. Bone deep exhaustion, the kind of exhaustion that made even sleeping a chore. Tears gathered in his eyes, and with each drop his mask got looser and looser. He thought of something to say- some sort of goodbye. Not for them, but for him, for closure. His own eulogy. Last words, maybe?

Did he deserve last words when the villain he lost to was his own mind? Internal, eternal, and inevitable? It was a dance he’d been a part of for far too long and he was just tired.

“Hey Replacement.”

Tim expected his whole body to go rigid, for his instinct to take over, for any kind of fight to bubble up inside him, itching to get out. He and Jason reconciled, sure, but sometimes when he caught him off guard, Tim still had the same knee-jerk reaction.

Instead, his body just stood there, open and unarmed. It solidified his resolve- even his instincts knew it was over. The idea that Jason could easily shoot him, or push him off the roof didn’t scare him.

Why would it?

He could hear Jason’s quiet, heavy steps as the older boy approached.

‘Red Hood, status, have you found him?’

Dick’s voice came over the comms.

Tim didn’t look at Jason. There was a soft click.

“No, not yet. I’ll keep looking. Just cover my area Dickhead.” Jason said before the soft click happened again.

The two boys were quiet for a minute.

Behind him, Tim could hear the familiar whirring of the mechanics- mechanics he helped design -that indicated the removal of Jason’s Red Hood helmet. A thump after indicated Jason had opted to ditch it on the roof.

Normally, Tim would yell at him for being so careless with his equipment, especially since Tim worked hard on the last updates, but he couldn’t even find his voice.

He heard the clatter of weapons hitting the ground, and Jason stepped closer.

“Come on Timmy,” Jason said softly, and Tim’s chest tightened at the nickname. “You’re shaking. You gotta be freezing.”

It wasn’t until Jason said something that Tim realized he was vibrating. Even the air was unforgiving in Gotham, and somewhere between his decision to step on the ledge and the loss of his cape, it turned into an icy grip that cut through the thin material of his suit.

The wind stung his face where the tears had started to slip beneath his mask. His knees buckled and he sucked in a sharp breath of air.

“I can’t.” He choked out, his hand gripping at his chest. “I- I can’t move.”

‘Red Robin?’ Dick’s voice cut through the comms. ‘Come on buddy, where are you, I’ll come get you.’

Tim couldn’t hear him over the roar of his own blood in his ears, and took his comm out of his ear, throwing it off to the side.

It was then he caught sight of Jason, and was shocked by the lack of not only helmet, but mask as well. Jason’s eyes had a green shine to them- a side effect of the pit -and they were trained on Tim.

Jason held out his hand to Tim. “Take my hand baby bird.” He murmured.

“No,” Tim cried. “I want- I should- I have to- I’m going to fall Jason-”

“No.” Jason said sternly. “No you won’t.”

Tim inched closer to the ledge. “It doesn’t matter-”

“Of course it matters dipshit, you matter. I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

Tim’s lip trembled and a sob tore from his throat as his knees gave out from under him and for a split second he was falling-

And the next he was wrapped in a tight hug.

Tim reached out instinctually and grabbed onto whatever he could hold, staying as close as possible to the smell of leather, gun polish and sweat, a surprisingly comforting combination.

Maybe it was just because it meant safety.

“I’ve got you baby bird,” Jason mumbled, and he could feel Jason bury his nose in Tim’s hair. “I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry,” He sputtered through his tears. “I’m sorry, Jay, I’m sorry,” A whole new breakdown washed over him, and he couldn’t get a grip on his emotions.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jason scolded him lightly, and rubbed little circles on his back. “I’ve got you.”

“I was going to do it,” Tim cried.

“I know.” Jason whispered.

“They hate me. They’re going to hate me more!” Tim whimpered. “I can’t- I don’t want-”

“I know.” Jason repeated. “But no one hates you, Tim,” He promised. “Hell, even Barbra threatened to get out here to find you.”

Tim buried his face in Jason’s chest and just stayed there. “I’m nothing more than a placeholder,” He mumbled. “I’m a pretender. A replacement.” He sniffled. “I didn’t- I didn’t even want to be Robin. God. I wanted Dick to be Robin. Batman needs Robin.” He was close to hysterics, and god Jason still didn’t know what to do.

“Maybe,” Jason agreed. “But Bruce Wayne needs Tim Drake.” Jason said quietly. “I’m pretty sure the old man would be lost without you Timmy.”

Tim shook his head and Jason snorted. “You set up the system in the batcave, make sure the Wayne business is intact and running smoothly, you’ve updated all the security, you always make sure there’s coffee in the manor, and no one makes him smile with bad jokes like you do.”

Tim stayed quiet, and Jason alternated between rubbing his back and running his hand through Tim’s hair. The boys stood there for as long as Tim needed to and Jason realized how small Tim was because Jesus Christ this was just a kid in a costume and he just wanted to be loved.

“Can we go back to the Manor?” Jason murmured. “My bike’s not far.”

Tim didn’t move.

“We can watch a movie?” He suggested. “I’ll let you pick.”

“Why are you being so nice?” Tim mumbled.

“Well… I could punch you instead if you’d like. Not sure that’ll make you feel better though.” He offered, and was rewarded by the smallest, quietest laugh. “C’mon, we can raid the kitchen.”

“You aren’t going to make me talk?” Tim asked.

Jason shook his head, tightening his grip on him. “I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to baby bird.” He said softly. “But if you want to do that, I’m here for that too.”

Tim tightened his own grip and kept close- Jason was keeping him grounded and that’s all that mattered. “What was it like?” He whispered.

Jason was quiet for a long moment, and Tim regretted asking almost immediately.

“Long.” Jason decided. “Dark. Quiet.”

“Good quiet?”

“No.” Jason said softly. “Too quiet.”

“I’m sorry.” Tim whispered.

“Me too,” Jason mumbled. “You’re not alone Timbo. I’m right here, alright?”

Tim nodded and pulled away after a moment when he felt like he could stand on his own. Jason collected their things and handed Tim his mask, cape and belt, putting his own mask and helmet back on, clipping his holsters on.

The ride back was quiet- Tim’s comm must have busted when it hit the roof, and if Jason heard anything he wasn’t giving it away. Jason came up with some half-assed lie about what happened to Barbra and the other Bats over the comms, and immediately claimed the living room for him and Tim, heading upstairs.

Tim was asleep by the end of the opening credits, tucked safely into the side of his big brother.

Maybe Tim couldn’t fight the villain in his head on his own, but having someone like Jason Todd on your side certainly made it easier.

#thebatfamplaylist #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #batman #bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #dick grayson #nightwing #damian wayne #Robin #barbra gordon #oracle #sorry this is so sad

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teknicianwrites · 3 years

Note

Kissing a scar that they got from something traumatic for f!Hawke and Merrill?

Thank you for the lovely prompt! This definitely got away from me, but I think I like it anyway.

@dadrunkwriting

Meredith gave Marinda a last long look before nodding. "I trust we understand each other, Champion." She turned away, calling out to gather the mages and Templars she'd brought and headed back to the Gallows.

Carver glanced back at her and she gave him a sheepish shrug. He rolled his eyes and fell in line with the rest of his Order.

She took a moment to breathe in the cool night air of Hightown, but the normal comforting scent of night-blooming flowers was covered by blood and smoke.

Andraste give me strength.

Cheering erupted as Marinda gingerly walked back into the main hall of the Viscount's keep. Nobles rushed to her side to express their gratitude, touching her, crowding her, blocking her view as she tried to find her lovers in the crowd.

She forced a smile to her face and nodded at whatever Lady de Cerrac said. "If that's the best the Qunari have it's a wonder they're still causing trouble in the north," she replied, with no idea whether it was relevant to the topic. It probably was. If not to de Cerrac then to someone talking at her. The Arishok's body still lay on the ground where he'd fallen, and even the aristocracy of Hightown didn't have that short of an attention span.

Tittering laughter followed her words so it must have been the right thing to say, except it quickly became the wrong thing to say as a strong hand gave her an approving slap on the back. It took every ounce of willpower she had to grin through the fire that lanced through her abdomen for it. The owner of the offending hand grinned back at her underneath a disheveled mustache. "Too right, Champion, too right you are!"

Maker, she had to get out of here. She couldn't pass out in front of everyone, not after the Knight-Commander had given her that title.

She could have cried with relief when Aveline pushed her way through the throng, Merrill trailing close behind and Varric's voice ringing out, "Alright everyone, I know she's impressive but I do believe our Champion has earned her beauty sleep."

Despite the murmurs of disappointment, the crowd parted for the Guard Captain as she led Marinda out into the night. Merrill came to her side, and Marinda clutched at her hand for support.

"Where's Bela?" she asked softly, still forcing herself to walk with an event gait while within sight of the dispersing nobility.

"She skulked away in the commotion," Aveline said, voice hard with disapproval.

Merrill tucked herself closer, pulling Marinda's hand to drape her arm over her shoulder, and Marinda leaned into it gratefully. Her warm body shared much-needed heat after Marinda's recent blood loss."I think the crowd made her nervous. She'll be back. She always comes back."

Aveline shot her a skeptical look, but upon looking over Marinda's increasingly failing attempts to hide her pain, kept her thoughts to herself.

"What did the Knight-Commander want, Chuckles?" Varric asked as they walked through an empty side-street on the way back to her home.

"Oh, you know, the normal things." Marinda attempted a half shrug and choked back a whimper for how it made agony shoot down her side. "The duties of a Champion, my responsibility to the city, she'll throw me in the Gallows if I don't toe the line. All the standard formalities."

Merrill's eyes widened as she turned to her, and Marinda stumbled. "She wouldn't. You saved the city! You can't lock someone up after they saved the city!"

In the privacy of the alley she allowed herself a small groan from the sudden change in angle. Merrill bit her lip apologetically and returned her position at Marinda's side. "She didn't say those exact words, but it was heavily implied."

Aveline frowned. "It may have been bravado, Hawke. She named you Champion herself. Hauling you in now would be a tough sell."

"Red's right," Varric agreed, then hummed thoughtfully. "Still, it wouldn't hurt to ingratiate yourself with the hoity-toity in the coming months." Marinda groaned at the thought and Varric shrugged. "I'm just saying. You get into some weird shit with some weird people. Hightown having your back would be a good position to be in."

"I just saved all their lives! Isn't that enough?" Marinda whined, because if she was whining in annoyance then she wasn't whining in pain.

"With these people? Start going to the dinner parties, Chuckles. Trust me on this."

They reached the front door of her estate and she slumped in defeat. Merrill unlocked it for her and helped her through the threshold. She was immediately greeted by a cold mabari nose against her palm..

"Hey, Cal. It's fine. I'm fine." She gave him a reassuring scratch behind the ear.

Cal whined his disagreement and licked blood from her hand.

"Meserre!" Bodhan peeked his head out from the basement. "You're alright! Is the trouble over?"

"Yes, Bodhan. Everything's fine." Her gut was screaming at her to lie down and she was cold and lightheaded from blood loss, but she was breathing and the house was still standing. That counted as fine, right? "Do we have any elfroot?"

His eyes darted over her bloody and battered form. "I believe so, meserre. Is there anything else you need? Food? A hot bath?"

A hot bath sounded lovely, but she was afraid she would black out and drown in it. Not a very Championly way to die. "Maybe some broth? And water?" She knew she desperately needed fluids.

"Of course, meserre. Orana's down the stairs keeping the boy calm. I'll have her whip something up for you right and proper."

"Thank you."

Merrill scurried off after him, saying she was going to get some bandages, and Marinda was suddenly faced with the prospect of getting to her room.

All she wanted to do was pass out in her bed, but the stairs down from the Viscount's Keep had been bad enough. Stairs going up? She stared at the climb in despair.

Aveline must have seen her face. She held out her hand and, when Marinda moved to take it, gently scooped her up into her arms. Marinda hissed as her middle was jostled, and Maker, if she had the blood for it she would be blushing in humiliation at finding herself in a bridal carry.

"Aveline-" she tried to protest, and Aveline cut her off with a stern glare.

"No, Hawke. Hush. I've got you."

Varric's amused face quickly fell when she didn't put up any more fight. "I'm going to see if I can find Blondie for you."

Marinda shook her head. "He's probably healing people the Qunari hurt. Don't pull him away from that, I'll be fine."

He gave her a dubious look. "All the same. I'll let him know you're hurt and ask him to check on you when he gets a chance."

She was too tired to keep arguing and let herself slump into Aveline's hold.

Aveline carefully carried her upstairs and carefully deposited her on her bed. Cal immediately hopped up to her side, snuffling his concern at her neck.

"No, buddy," she murmured. He whined, but she knew he would get in the way of getting her armor off. "Foot of the bed," she offered in compromise, and he whined again but obeyed.

Merrill came through the door, balancing bandages, rags, a bowl, a cup, and a pitcher in her arms. She must have had Bodahn pile it onto her; there was no way she could have stacked it herself. "I've got everything. Well, not everything, Orana's working on the broth, but everything else. There's elfroot under here somewhere, if I can… oh…" She seemed to realize her predicament. Her arms were so full she had no way to put anything down without dropping it all, and the sloshing from the pitcher told Marinda it was already full.

Aveline came to her rescue, setting the pitcher on the nightstand and helping her unload the rest onto the bed.

"Thank you Aveline! I didn't think that through. I should have let Bodhan help me but poor Sandal was so scared I couldn't bear to pull him away with Orana needing to cook," she rambled anxiously.

"It's fine, Merrill." Aveline gave Marinda a long look. "You'll really be alright? You're not trying to joke away internal bleeding?"

Marinda huffed a soft laugh she immediately regretted. "Everything hurts, but I'm not going to die. I may not have my own ride-along passenger like Anders, but I'm still a healer. I'm not losing any blood. Just need time to make some more."

"I'm trusting you on this, Hawke. You'd better be alive tomorrow," was the stern reply.

Marinda gave a weak smile. "Champion's honor." She gave a weak salute. Did Champions salute? She didn't know. She should have asked Meredith for a handbook. "Go. I know you need to check on your men and get the city to stop being on fire." Marinda watched Aveline's face meander between exasperation and amusement, before finally making the unexpected journey to sincere.

"Thank you. You saved a lot of lives tonight. Even if Hightown forgets that in a month, I won't." Aveline gave her hand a squeeze and looked to Merrill. "Take care of her."

"I will," she promised.

Aveline gave them both a nod and left, pulling the door closed behind her.

Merrill hovered at her side. "Ma vhenan, what do you need?"

"Water. Please."

Merrill helped her drink, then gave her some elfroot to help with the pain. Marinda chewed on it, ignoring the bitter taste as Merrill carefully helped her out of her ruined armor. Her lover was gentle, but everything hurt and Merrill apologized for every wince and gasp.

"Creators…" Merrill stared at the fresh scar on her stomach.

"Fuck," Marinda agreed, looking down at herself.

She'd known it was bad. The Arishok had run her completely through and pinned her to the wall of the Keep. But even with dried blood obscuring it, Marinda felt light-headed to see just how much of her torso had been rent apart.

Merrill took an unsteady breath and dipped a clean rag into the bowl of water, gently washing the blood away to reveal the full extent of the scar. Her hand shook as she wet the rag again, moving to clean a smaller wound at Marinda's shoulder.

Marinda tore her gaze from the scar and looked at Merrill's face to find her eyes welling with tears. Marinda gently caught her wrist and pulled the cloth away, setting it aside and entwining their fingers with her other hand.

"I'm ok, Merrill. I'll be ok."

Merrill tightened her grip like her hand was a lifeline. "You almost died."

The Arishok whirled on her, and she ducked away from his axe and stumbled against the wall.

She should have been watching the sword.

"I'm alive. I'm here."

"You almost died. You were on the ground and you weren't moving and there was so much blood… Creators, there was so much blood."

Agony liked fire burned in her gut, clear through her back. She heard metal scrape against stone as she looked down at the weapon piercing her torso.

"I'm here."

"You were already so hurt and then-"

Her vision blurred as she looked up at his snear.

"Your role is realized."

"Shhhh."

"You shouldn't have done it. I didn't teach you just to watch it kill you. You almost died-"

This was how she was going to die. She stared into his eyes and distantly heard someone scream her name. She turned toward the sound and saw Bela, restrained by two Qunari, frantically trying to break free.

Bela….

"I couldn't let him take her."

She was dying, but she wasn't dead yet. And she wouldn't let him have her.

"I know. I know, ma vhenan. But I thought I lost you. I thought I killed you."

With a cry of rage and pain, she ripped the power of her own lifeblood from her wound, and boiled his blood in his veins.

"You saved me."

"Merrill no, there's too many people-"

Marinda turned Merrill's hands over and pushed back her sleeves, and traced the fresh scars from where she had used her own blood to keep Marinda's in her body.

"I can only slow the bleeding, I can't close the wound. Heal yourself, vhenan."

"That was so dangerous, love. All of the nobility could have seen."

"Merrill…"

Merrill laughed through her sobs. "You started it. You lost so much blood they would have thought it was yours."

"I can't lose you. Heal yourself or I'll bleed myself dry, I won't watch you die-"

Marinda kissed her left wrist, then her right, feeling each scar beneath her lips that had saved her life.

"I can't."

"You can."

She kissed them again, and a third time for good measure, and it wasn't until she tasted saltwater that she realized she was crying.

Merrill's gaze was resolute. Marinda had no mana left, and she couldn't use her own blood to stop the bleeding. Merrill was offering her own.

Her throat was closing up, but she made herself speak. "I can't lose you either, love. You're my heart too. You and Bela."

As Varric and Bela distracted the crowd and Aveline used her own body to shield them from sight, Marinda tentatively reached for the pull of Merrill's heart. It wasn't Marinda's blood and she couldn't call on Joy this way, but she was still a healer. Ignoring the pains that weren't threatening her life, she mended back arteries and organs and flesh. She was used to the warmth of Joy, or the soothing cool of creationism, or even the steady burn of Justice, but this felt raw. Primal.

Merrill took a hand back to cup Marinda's cheek. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

With careful attention to Merrill's pulse, she healed as much and as quickly as she dared, increasingly aware she was twice a maleficar in the Viscount's throne room. She didn't think she'd have the strength to run.

Marinda smiled and pulled her close. "Absolute disasters."

Confident that if she died tonight it wouldn't be from this wound, she made a last small pull on Merrill and sealed the bleeding at her wrists.

They both cried, delayed terror finally safe to be expressed, and then they kept crying, in relief and disbelief that they had survived and were free.

When they finally calmed, Marinda kissed her, tasting salt and lyrium and blood.

"I love you, Merrill."

"I love you too."

Merrill finished cleaning her and carefully wrapped the cuts and scrapes that hadn't been healed. Orana came by with the broth, and Merrill helped her drink it. She gave her more elfroot to chew as she changed out of her own bloodied clothes, and poured her some more water to wash away the taste.

She helped Marinda lie down and kissed her brow. "Sleep, vhenan. I'm sure Anders will be by tomorrow, and you'll want to be rested for that. If Varric told him what happened we're probably in for a scolding."

Marinda chuckled and closed her eyes. Merrill put out the lights and snuggled into her shoulder, and Cal crawled along the bed to curl up at her other side.

She was alive. Kirkwall was still standing. She was its Champion, whatever that meant. Merrill was with her, and though she didn't know where Isabela had gone, she knew she was free.

Marinda slept.

#Teknicianfic #Dadwc #Hawke/merrill #dragon age fanfiction #Potatowitch #Thank you for the lovely prompt!#It didn't at all go where I was expecting but I'm ok with it

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hwauas · 3 years

Text

🕊️: "the lost prince" (6)

park seonghwa (박성화) - 2,269 words

the lady came into the room as soon as she got the permission. she lowered her head a little, and Seonghwa and you bowed respectfully in front of her.

“you don't have to be this formal. and you can call me Iseul.”

she sat on a chair next to your boyfriend's bed. even her posture was showing how elegant and sophisticated she was.

“i wanted to come, because.. you know, news are spreading quite rapidly..”

“and so, you wanted to come and see the new city's attraction?”

Seonghwa sighed as he looked down. he felt deeply hurt — yet, he didn't let her speak.

“Seonghwa, honey, you should let her speak. don't be this rude. i know things are hard but no one would make fun of you.”

the tension in the atmosphere seemed to have increase so abruptly. Iseul was looking down, feeling almost guilty for coming here when the reasons that brought her here wasn't the ones Seonghwa talked about.

you softly grabbed Seonghwa's hand, to try and soothe him. your thumb was stroking his hand mindlessly.

the woman seemed to be waiting for something — and you weren't stupid: you knew she was waiting for a permission to keep going.

as you were still calming down Seonghwa, you mentioned her to keep going.

“to be honest with you Seonghwa.. i lost my child years ago. but i know that, somewhere else in this world, he's living. i just don't know where..”

the lady was looking at Seonghwa with a kind of protection in her eyes. she was talking about a tough time of her life, yet her eyes and whole face was showing off something else than sadness.

“i understand how you may feel. i understand how hard is it to have no family. since the day i lost my child, my husband is my only family. i believe you think this beautiful person by your side is your only family now? but you have a real family, blood related, waiting for you somwhere in this world. just as i'm waiting for my baby to come back home.”

a tear started to fall down your boyfriend's cheek, and then an another. you hated to see them. they were the physical representation of the pain he was feeling.

“how did you face the truth? there's one moment you have to accept the truth. you can't deny this for ever.”

“there is not a right way to do it. you know you had the choice when you realise you don't have the choice anymore.”

the woman was looking at Seonghwa. you knew she was sharing the same pain as him deep down.

“if you're indeed the lost prince.. i'm sure the King and the Queen are waiting for you, and are ready to give you all their love.”

“i don't really wanna think about that.. about being.. the lost prince.. i'm not strong enough to handle this. i just can't be a prince.”

Seonghwa suddenly held on your hand tightly.

“plus, as y/n said to me right before you came.. our worlds would be different, and i can't imagine a life without her/him anymore.”

“oh, Seonghwa.. if you indeed are the lost prince.. why would you have to break up with her/him? that doesn't make sense. the King and the Queen would be thankful she/he was here for you throughout this tough moment of your life. and rules are less strict than you think! there is no reason they won't accept your soulmate.”

you frowned. you studied a lot royalty, monarchy and everything which was related to this world. and it was even your speciality.

“but every books i've read, and every people i talked to about this agreed with me: there is a lack of freedom as a prince. King and Queen often rule their child's life.”

the woman laughed. you wondered if she was in pain or something. her laugh almost sounded hypocrite and fake.

“what's written in books are not always true. things are not set for ever. they evolve through the time.”

Seonghwa squeezed your hand softly, and rested his head on your shoulders. he whispered ‘we'll see later’ to you. you were looking down to your hands linked together. the woman was looking at you both, with the same protection she showed before.

the whole atmosphere was less tensed than before.

###

later in the day, in a different place.

the woman was now wearing her crown again. she was stunnier than before. her hair was again tied up in the most gracefully way possible. her dress was quite simple, way different from the large dress from our clichés: white, with trompet sleeves, not that huge and with beautiful details.

she was walking through the corridors, and stopped in front of a door leading to a large living room. there were hundreds and hundreds of books on different shelfs. the room was bright because of the sun rays, and the light colours of the room.

a man was standing in front of a window. he was wearing a crown too. no need to be smart to know he was the woman's husband. she approached him slowly.

“each new days without our son is hurtful..”

the man said almost in a whisper. this words weren't enough to describe the pain in his heart the destiny took his son away from him, his only treasure.

“i talked to him today. he's so beautiful.. he looks like you.”

“you.. what?”

the man turned over to face his wife. she seemed to be happy, after 16 years of sadness.

“you don't want to stay updated with the news because you're afraid we finf our son. you're afraid of the day we will be reunited together, because you missed him so much that you don't know how you will react. or you're afraid we may learn we've found our son, but dead. you're afraid of good and bad news. but i'm not. this little human lived inside of me for 9 months. i held his head when i had to breastfeed him. he's the only one for whom i went on my knees to tie his shoes. he's the only one i cried for when he came to the world.”

the woman wiped away few tears. she was trying to hold them back, but it was hurting even more: she needed to cry. not to mention the knot in her throat because of her tears.

“he means the world to him and, unlike you, i'm waiting for this day they would say they found him, or they have a serious trail. and today.. they said they were having a trail.”

“what do you mean..?”

the man seemed to be too shocked to process. any information seemed to be fully understood.

“it's been a while i didn't say 'Seonghwa'..”

the man approached his wife, and took her shoulders. his eyes were teary. he couldn't believe what he's heard from his wife. he waited for this day for so long..

“when i'm seriously thinking about abdicating.. stars give me my son back to take my place..”

he kissed his wife's forehead. the emotions were taking the leads, and he couldn't hold back his tears anymore.

“so you were serious, in this letter..”

“you found it?”

the king sighed. he starred to walk around, aimlessly, and stopped again in front of the window.

“the waiting is so hard for me. it consumed all my energy. and i'm getting old.. i don't want the country to see me getting old, and i'm not living in my time to take decision. i wanted to wait for fleur-de-lis to come back before making this letter public. the country needs him as a king now. and a new queen.”

“i'm not sure he's ready for that.. and his girlfriend/boyfriend either.”

she sat on a sofa, looking at his husband's shapes.

“his what?”

“hey, understand him. understand them. he has no idea he's a prince. and even though she/he believes Seonghwa is the prince, just as the policemen in charge of the case, Seonghwa doesn't want to hear this possibility. he just followed his heart by dating her/him. he wasn't doing anything else because he has no idea of the rules.”

the woman was strongly protecting your relationship with his son. she would let her body and her soul to protect you both in front of the king, because one thing she concluded about the meeting is that you were both in love and none of you was ready to face this.

“they're of course not ready to hear the truth one moment or another. they're afraid their worlds would be different and they would have to break up.”

“that's true! they have to break up! it's not the rules, and he has to marry a real princess, not a peasant!"

“first, because she/he comes from an another background doesn't mean she/he is a peasant. you better take this back, Park Junghoon. then, you can't break them apart. you know he still can lives by his someone's sides, even though their worlds are different. and finally, if you go against them, i doubt you would have a heir. do you wanna stay there until you die so i take the leads instead because you don't have a heir — or should i say because you refused to let him live his love story for shitty rules? do you wanna be the king until your last breath? do you want your country to see you getting old, and to see you die? do you want your only son to be mad at you because you imposed him your rules when the only thing he was asking for was to be reunited again with his family by his girlfriend's/boyfriend's sides?”

she was speaking firmly to be sure his husband would understand. but honestly, it wasn't the first time they were arguing. since someone took their son away from them, their relationship got even more fragile days after days.

“no, you don't. so if you wanna make this letter public, you better accept her/him when he'll be back. or else, you would definitely lose him. and me this time. no queen anymore, no prince as future king, no daughter-in-law/son-in-law anymore to be a future queen/king. you'd be alone and you'd have to stay there until the end.”

the queen stood up from her sofa, and started to walk away.

“take this as a way to thank him/her. because since the very first day they met each other until now, she/he never let Seonghwa down. and for the moment, Seonghwa has no one else. without this person by his side, i don't even think he would still be alive..”

she opened the door. but before leaving, she stopped to add one last thing.

“your daughter-in-law/son-in-law, if you accept it, is Choi y/n.”

the woman left the room. the king was speechless — he knew his wife was right. he couldn't take you away from Seonghwa. impossible.

###

after the woman left Seonghwa's room, you gave your boyfriend his clothes to be comfortable in his own clothes rather than in the hospital's clothes. and you even changed yourself in more comfortable clothes.

Seonghwa ate the meal tray normally, and the nurse even did her best to get you one to eat with him. it wasn't the best food you've ever eaten, yet it was enough for you.

and after this moment with him, eating and talking about everything and anything, you both layed down in each other's arms. you were looking through the window, at the starry night.

“a clear night like that.. it reminds me of our prom date.”

you were almost daydreaming, thinking about this night.

“it was literally two days ago.”

Seonghwa gently mocked you. he was looking at your sparkling eyes with a bright smile.

“prince of my heart, don't make fun of me.”

“the only kingdom i wanna rule.”

Seonghwa giggled as he pulled you closer to his chest. he even kissed your forehead multiple times.

“i really don't want to be the prince. i hope my family is somewhere else..”

“if we forget about the fact that would mean having a statute.. i just wish you find your family. them or not, i don't care. i want to thank your real mom for giving birth to you.”

you wrapped both your arms around your boyfriend's waist. you also rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

“i'm afraid to meet my parents, to be honest.. i don't know how things will be going.”

“i understand the unknown may scare you. but you can't avoid this for ever. it's hurting you, you know that. and it's hurting them. you'll get to know the truth about what happened. there's a lot to win by finding them, and meeting them.”

Seonghwa only nodded. he was now the one looking at the dark sky while you were half asleep against his chest, under the blanket. the stars and the mood was lightening up perfectly the room, without making it too bright. it didn't take you too much time to fall into a light sleep.

“i'm so afraid y/n... i don't wanna lose you by meeting them.. you said the truth thinking about me but.. i'm ready to give up on my family for you..”

he kissed your forehead as he held you tighter. he was looking at you sleeping, and quickly fell asleep too.

16 notes · View notes

bi-writes · 4 years

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notorious: reboot — chapter nine mercy

I’m not sorry I did it; I’m just sorry it had to be you.

type: series, alternate universe detail: mob!tom word count: 12.2k warnings: mature language and themes, including violence and character death series masterlist music playlist by mood, curated just for notorious

Fear was supposed to be relative, but it was more than that to you. Fear was motivation. Every time you were afraid, your instincts took over, and it was the reason you were still alive. Survival was the only strategy here, and it had you by the throat every single day. For a long while, it was the only emotion you knew. Your father was always keeping you on edge, and you were always sleeping with one eye open and a hand on the gun under your pillow. You had never known safety. Not even when your mother had been around.

If it wasn’t your father you were afraid of, then it was everyone else. There was a reason you never opened yourself up to anyone in your world. While you fell for Mariposa, in a rhythm of selfless love that you were eternally grateful for, you were quick to leave her when things were starting to fall apart. You had only loved her distantly, not enough for you to completely absorb the gravity of your relationship, and it’s why it was so easy for you to leave and so easy for you to forget her. It was wrong, of course it was, and you vowed to make up for it every single day, but to you, it was the only way to survive. If there was no one you loved, you had nothing to lose. You could throw yourself headfirst into foreign territory, and the only weapon others could hold in front of you were the ones you knew how to handle.

Giovanni, Viktor, the men you had encountered in your life, they never realized how dangerous you truly were. There was nothing more perilous than a woman that had nothing to lose. It made the killing easy and the conquering even easier.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, blinking as your eyes ran over your figure. You were glowing, your skin still glistening from the warm sheets you had rolled out of. There were bruises littered all over your body, dark marks in clusters around your hips. Your neck had been nipped and kissed at until you had fallen asleep, and you felt hot all over remembering how you got them. You fastened your belt around your jeans, and then you tugged on the dark tank top. You fastened the thigh holster over the fabric of your jeans, slipping your gun into it, and then you sat down on the bed as you laced up your heeled boots.

Tom came out of the bathroom, in sweats and nothing else, and to him, it looked as if you were getting dressed for battle. He picked up your leather jacket from the bed, and when you stood up, he held it up for you so you could slip your arms into it. You turned around to face him, and you both stood in silence looking at each other.

You waited a few moments before you hugged him tightly, and Tom wrapped his arms around you protectively, putting his head into the crook of your neck as he hugged you back.

“I’m scared,” you whispered finally.

I am terrified.

Tom closed his eyes, one hand going into your hair to soothe you, “there’s nothing to be afraid of. We’ve talked about this.”

“He’s lying to me, Tom. Whatever plan we had…he’s lying to me, Tom. I can feel it,” you said weakly, pulling away to look up into his eyes. You needed him to see how serious you were. “He doesn’t want me to win, Tom. He’s using me…I know he is.”

Tom smiled a bit, rubbing a thumb across your chin. It was subtle, but his touch was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“I’m not worried, y/n,” he said finally, looking at you carefully. “I’ve got you. And you’ve got me. What the fuck is there to worry about?”

“The plan going to absolute shit,” you argued, putting your hands over his. “My father lying to me yet again, and…and then us losing.”

Tom shook his head, “we’re not going to lose, y/n. Your father is good at many things, and underestimating you is one of them. If he lied to you, then he’s only fucked himself over again. You and me? We’re the most dangerous when it doesn’t go as planned. Because then it’s just up to us, and we’ve survived this long. I’ve seen what you can do, y/n. I’m not worried.”

You leaned up a bit to kiss him, winding your fingers through his damp curls, and he made a point to suck on your bottom lip lovingly, and you exchanged a few gentle laughs as you held onto each other. You leaned your forehead against his, sighing deeply, taking in the way he smelled and how sweet he tasted. Tom could say whatever he liked, but your heart was pounding, and the uncertainty of what your father would do had you by the throat. If he had it inside of him to kill your mother, then he had it inside of him to kill you. Your father didn’t know what love was. He was incapable of it. All he knew was how to win, how to step on top of others to get to where he needed to be, and for a while, you thought that that was the only way to get what you wanted.

Tom had taught you differently. You couldn’t always step on others, sometimes you had to get down in the dirt and show that you were worthy of it. You wouldn’t get anyone’s respect by just shedding blood. There were men in this world that didn’t respond to that, and Tom was one of them. You had shown him what you were worth, and he fell for that, and so had you. Taking what you wanted was risky, but earning what you deserved was always enough. You had earned your place here. You had to be different than your father. Your father was a ticking time bomb, and he was going to get himself killed and you with him if you weren’t careful. You were so blinded by his treasures that you had no idea how precarious his position was. Your father was one wrong move from his own downfall, and when it happened, you couldn’t be there to fall with him.

You had to be better.

In Los Angeles, your father and his men were animals. Tearing apart anything that threatened their territory, blind rage that controlled their entire beings, with no disregard to what they left behind in their wake. You had been buried underneath it all, forced to watch and never allowed to make change. Your father had made sure you were always on a leash, and he made you believe that it was meant to be there. He made you believe that you had to have his permission to take the chains off, to be more than just his little girl, to be you.

You weren’t an animal. Your father’s hold on you wasn’t real.

“Your father is going to tell you a lot of things tonight. All of them will be lies.”

Despite your mother becoming a scared, manipulative liar, she always told the truth when it came to your father. She hated him as much as you did, and on that, you could count on her.

Tom nudged you out of your thoughts. You had made your way downstairs, and you were waiting for a car. Tom opened the door for you, and you got into the back. Tom shut the door behind you, and you rolled down the window, looking up at him.

“Hey,” Tom put a hand on your cheek, shaking his head. “After tonight…I’ll take you away from here for a while. We’ll get the fuck out of this city, just for a little while. I promise.”

You put your hand over his, nodding in agreement, not daring to say anything or your voice might have broken. There was love in his eyes, and you never wanted to look away.

“y/n, I’m going to take care of you,” he voiced, leaning his forehead against yours. “Just breathe.”

You did. You let Tom hold you close for a moment longer, and you finally let out a long breath. It came out shaky and weak, but Tom held you still, rubbing his thumb across the apple of your cheek gently.

“I’ll see you tonight, love,” he murmured, and you nodded, sitting up a bit to kiss him one last time, and Tom could tell you didn’t want to pull away. You were nipping at his bottom lip, holding him close, keeping the kiss soft as you held onto him for as long as you could. He pulled away slowly, just to breathe, and he wiped away a stray tear that had fallen halfway down your cheek. He planted a soft kiss onto your forehead before letting go, and you rolled up the window and tapped on the drivers’ seat. You needed him to drive or else you were just going to stay with Tom, trying to avoid whatever was going to happen tonight.

I’d hold onto him and make him run away with me. And I would never look back.

You didn’t even realize the car had stopped until someone tapped on the window, drawing your gaze from your boots back upwards. De Luca was there, and you unlocked the car door, and he opened it for you, offering you a hand to help you onto the sidewalk.

You looked up at the warehouse in front of you, a building you had become familiar with the past few months in New York. Your father ran his operations out of Queens, in a warehouse tucked between residential office buildings, and since you had landed here six months ago, you had frequented the place to talk to De Luca and familiarize yourself with how business was on the East Coast.

And to learn, because he won’t teach me himself.

You had developed a rapport with your father’s men here. You visited Mariposa’s father many times in his office here, talked into the early hours of the night with De Luca, and met up with your father’s men to help them do their own jobs in the city. You were a welcome face here. Your father’s men had become your men, and they followed you as loyally as they had him.

Maybe even more so.

You knew their names. You didn’t snap your fingers at them or yell at them. You liked to sit at their desks with them and share a drink, listen to what they had to say, and you made changes to certain operations based on their feedback. You sat with your father’s accountants and even tried to pick up a few new tricks from them. You had high expectations for them, and his men had grown to adore you so much that they fought to exceed those expectations. They had been starved for a long time of authority, and they welcomed yours. They appreciated the way you heard them, the manner in which you helped them, and that you were always there when they needed you. You were present and not just commanding, and for a long time they had been waiting for someone to come along to prove to them that all of this work was worth it.

You were worth it.

The revenue you were bringing in was enough proof that you were what they had been waiting for all along. There had been many nights where you sat on the warehouse floor with many of your father’s men, laughing and helping them count money, helping them put files together, finalizing plans and giving approval when they felt they needed it. You tried not to just be a face they never saw but were forced to obey. You wanted to be seen and known, and you wanted them to know that they mattered. Tom’s philosophy of men as family had struck you as something important, and treating your father’s men as family worked. They wanted to listen to you, they wanted to do right by you, and if they didn’t have the answers, they tried hard to answer those questions they were unsure of.

You have to be better.

De Luca opened the door for you, and you entered with a nod of your head at him. Your boots sounded against the linoleum floors, and all of your men were acquainted with it, looking up as you passed them, waving, smiling, greeting you warmly.

“Good morning, Miss y/n.”

“Hello, boss.”

“Good to see you, Miss y/n, how are you?”

“Good morning.”

You nodded at them, giving them tight smiles as you walked past their desks, crossing your arms over your chest. You glanced at the papers, watched as money orders flew past you in crates. It was almost the afternoon, but the warehouse was always busy with work. De Luca grabbed your attention, a hand on your arm, and you followed him into his office. He shut the door behind you, and you sat down at his desk, despite it being his, and he allowed you to. You folded your hands in front of you, taking a deep breath.

“Has he come yet?” You asked him, and De Luca leaned back in his chair.

“He came last night,” he answered, nodding, and you pursed your lips.

“What…what did the boys think?” You wondered. “Did they like him?”

“Well…you know personnel here is fairly new. The few that had met your father before weren’t very friendly, and your father had a few things to say about…the way things are done here,” he said simply, and you rolled your eyes.

“Right, cause everything I touch is tainted to him,” you sighed. “Was Muñoz here to say hello?”

De Luca nodded slowly, “yeah. But you know how that is. Ever since your mother’s been gone, he hasn’t been keen on meeting with your father.”

You looked down for a moment, tapping your fingers nervously on the desk in front of you.

“He came with some demands, didn’t he?” You inquired, and De Luca reached over to pull a paper out from a folder on his desk. He showed it to you, and you looked down at it. They were potential locations for Holland operations, most of which were wrong, you could tell just by looking at it.

“Your father doesn’t wait. He’s already having us look for where they store their supply,” he told you. “He wants locations secured immediately so he can put our guys in there tonight. After…the wedding and all.”

You met De Luca’s eyes for a moment. You wondered what he thought about all of this. You wondered if he was on your father’s side, the idea of getting rid of Tom Holland and acquiring everything his name entitled him to. You looked at the rest of the papers on the desk.

“He’s going to London?” You raised a brow, looking at an itinerary that was printed out. “Is he serious?”

“As soon as he has his acquisitions, Miss y/n, he plans on making it known,” De Luca explained, and you swallowed the anger inside of you. Your father wouldn’t even wait to let Tom’s body get cold. He wanted to take Holland territory, and he wanted it in a matter of days.

“Maybe I can help,” you took a pen off the desk and started crossing out the locations on the list that you were certain Tom was located in. For the time being, you didn’t want your father getting the upper hand. The rest were addresses you didn’t recognize, and you gave the list back to De Luca. “Give this new list out.”

“But your—”

“I know what my father wants,” you smiled bitterly at him. “Either you can give this to the boys, or I will. If I have something to say, you know they’ll want to know it. I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation, De Luca.”

He swallowed a bit, nodding his head, “yes, Miss y/n. I apologize.”

De Luca got up from his seat and left his office to go distribute the list. You rifled through the papers on the desk, just glancing at the contents, but it was enough to know that your father was looking to completely absorb Tom and all he had in the next 24 hours. He wasn’t waiting for you, he wasn’t waiting for Tom, he was just going to take what he wanted. You shoved the papers away from you angrily, putting your head into your hands, your heart pounding into your chest. One mistake, and everything would be swept out right from underneath you, and Tom would be dead. You tried to remember how calm Tom had been in the morning, but it only made you panic inside even more.

It’s all gone to shit. Maybe daddy’s right. When push comes to shove, what am I capable of accomplishing? What am I doing?

“Hey, Miss y/n, is everything okay?” A knock followed the gentle question. You looked up from your hands, smiling just a bit and nodding.

“Yes, Jacob, I’m okay,” you stood up. “How…how did things go last night? Did you get the shipment to Brooklyn alright?”

“Yes, Miss y/n, everything went just fine. We would’ve called if it hadn’t,” he tried to smile back at you, and you walked to meet him, following alongside him as he made his way back to his desk.

“Right,” you nodded your head. “Of course. Uh…do you boys have anything else planned for today?”

“No, Miss y/n. Just to attend the meeting tonight,” he told you. You narrowed your eyes.

“What meeting?”

“The…” He frowned a bit, cowering under your eyes. “Yours. He…said last night that his…little girl was getting hitched. I thought that must mean you, right?”

You gave him another smile, but it was only to cover up the worry building up inside of you. You had no idea why your father needed your men to attend your meeting, but there was an impending alarm going off in your head at the thought. There was no need for your men there, but your father clearly had different plans.

“Your father is going to tell you a lot of things tonight.”

“Yes, Jacob. That’s me.”

“All of them will be lies.”

You decided not to ask him anymore questions. Word could have gotten around that you were asking about the meeting, and it would tip your father off. You needed everything to go as he thought it would.

You stayed in the office with De Luca for a few hours, going over usual business with him. You were keeping track of the money orders that had to be cashed through your subsidiaries, and De Luca was telling you about some shipments you were expecting the next week. You watched the clock move as you worked, and as it counted into the afternoon, you felt yourself growing more and more anxious. You had trouble concentrating on work you normally enjoyed doing. The numbers in your head had stopped making sense, and you grew farther and farther away from focus.

“y/n,” De Luca said finally, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” You looked over at him. “W-What?”

“What’s the matter with you? You’ve been working on that spreadsheet for too long.”

“Sorry,” you looked down. “I’m just…thinking.”

“Something’s wrong,” De Luca observed. “You’ve been like this all day, y/n. What’s bothering you?”

You looked into his eyes, fiddling with your fingers. You put the pen down that you were holding, leaning over the desk. “What…what do you think of Mariposa? Of me?” You asked. “Be honest. I won’t…I won’t be upset.”

De Luca leaned back in his chair, staring at you for a moment. He was thinking about whether or not to answer before he crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging, “I think…you’re my girls. What can I say?” He sighed. “I’ve known you since you were a little girl, y/n. Mariposa, too. It would kill me if anything happened to you, you know that.”

“I know how you feel about us,” you said, pursing your lips. “I’m asking what you think of us.”

“I think…” De Luca moved his head from side to side, “that before you came back, things weren’t getting done around here. These boys…we were just picking them off the street, and they were lost. They responded to orders poorly, and it was difficult to control things here when there was no one here with some sort of real authority. I think they felt like they were working for ghosts, and then…you came along. My boys adore you, y/n. It’s not a secret. They like when you’re here, they feel…supported when you go with them on jobs, and…they want to impress you. Things are better here. Honestly, y/n, I wish you could stay after tonight.”

Oh, De Luca…why do you lie to me?

You tilted your head to the side, “why wouldn’t I stay?”

De Luca’s eyes snapped up to yours, and he paled a bit, shifting in his seat, “no, of course…yeah, of course you’re staying.”

You scoffed a bit, shaking your head. Your father was so predictable. Giovanni here, his men prepared to come to your meeting, and he was already planning on sending you back home. Your father was going to put that leash back on you tonight. You had done your job, like a good girl, but he was never going to accept you into his arms. He was never going to give you a chance to be anything more than a little girl.

He’ll never let me go. No matter how many times he kisses me, coddles me, assures me differently. He’ll never leave me be.

You stood up from your seat, leaving the office as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket. You waited for it to ring, and it didn’t take long for Mariposa to answer.

“y/n,” she greeted you, and you looked around you to make sure no one was listening before you talked.

He’ll tie weights to my ankles and throw me in the fucking deep end. He’ll watch me drown, and he’ll be smiling as I disappear into darkness.

“Hey, Ri. I need you to do something for me.”

You hadn’t always been this way. You weren’t always so cold inside, so dead inside, so unfeeling and unforgiving. You remembered when you were younger, the innocent presence you used to carry with you always. You used to be quiet, a little bubbly, always smiling, and your mother had been your best friend. You didn’t always see darkness in yourself, and you didn’t always hate what you saw in the mirror.

You had changed the moment you saw blood for the first time. Seeing the carpet of your father’s study rolled up into the corner, spilling crimson everywhere, threatening to stain your toes if you had stepped in it. There were always moments when you wished you had just been good. You wished you had stayed in your room, you wished you hadn’t been so curious, you wish you had just done as your father had asked you to. Maybe it wouldn’t be so fucking hard to look at yourself in the mirror, maybe you wouldn’t have to put a mask on every single day, maybe you wouldn’t have ever seen the way stars fill someone’s eyes right before they died.

So many stars, sparkling like a million lights. I’m taught not to stop until the lights go out, until the stars twinkle and wash away.

You saw Viktor sometimes when you closed your eyes. You remembered how sticky and warm his blood had felt seeping between your fingers. You remembered how sharp the glass was in your palm, how it cut your skin and dug into the back of his spine. You remembered how afraid you had been after it was over, how quickly the adrenaline had faded from your body so there was only an unnerving, malicious emptiness left behind. You remembered staring at yourself in the mirror afterwards. You looked so different now. You had never killed someone like that. It was easy to kill when you held up a gun and pointed it, shooting aimlessly. They were always so far away, just ants in the distance, and you would watch them drop, emotionless because you never saw their faces or knew their stories or spoke to them.

Maybe the stars are the memories they hold inside. Maybe they see good things right before they glimmer and fade away. Maybe they see serenity.

Viktor haunted you in your dreams. The spiders you once saw in your sleep had changed into blood, and you would wake up now, your head filled with the choking feeling of slow-moving, thick, sour blood coming out of your mouth and down your nose and from your ears and in tears that fell from your eyes. You would wake up tasting copper, smelling iron, and you would feel like you were stuck still in that bathroom, Viktor’s blood still wrapped around your legs and covering your arms and painted across your face.

Or maybe the stars are their sins. Maybe they see hell.

You could still see that woman in the mirror now. No matter how many times you washed your hair or scrubbed your face or scratched at your arms, you would see glimpses of that woman in the mirror, and she would terrify you. That woman was capable of horrific things. That woman had tasted blood, and she liked it. That woman had an appetite for power, and that woman would do whatever she wanted to get it. Blood had become her armor, and she had no idea what mercy felt like. She only knew pain and misery and anguish, and it had consumed her completely. You tried so hard to see someone else in the mirror, but it was no use. Like the blood in your dreams, she was covering you completely now, building up a new mask, a better mask, one that would be impenetrable, a mask only she could take off, but you knew she would never want to. That woman was you, and you didn’t have a clue how to escape her.

Maybe because you really don’t want to.

“You look beautiful,” a voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked behind yourself in the mirror to see your father standing there in the doorway, adjusting his watch on his wrist. He was wearing a dark suit, and you could see his infamous gun tucked into the waistband of his trousers. You sat up a bit taller on your vanity chair.

Maybe you need her.

“Daddy,” you breathed, and he came up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.

“You look different,” he murmured, putting a hand on your shoulder, and you nearly smacked him away from you. Instead, you plastered a smile on your face, and your eyes widened with surprise.

“I’ve learned so much, daddy,” you said softly, putting your hand over his. “You would be so proud. Did you hear about all our work at the office? Everything we’ve done?”

“I did,” he chuckled a bit, leaning down and kissing your head. You closed your eyes at that. “You’ve done so well, sweetheart. Your mother would be so delighted.”

“He doesn’t deserve you. And he never has. He never will.”

Your lips quivered at that thought, and it took everything inside of you not to shake. You held back the tears already forming, swallowing down the sob in your throat. You nodded finally, opening your eyes. There were faint tears in your eyes, and your father sighed when he noticed.

“y/n, you’ve given me everything back,” he turned you to face him, and you looked up at him. “New York…the Hollands…London. You…” He put his hands on your cheeks, his thumbs stroking over your skin. Every touch from him felt like he was tainting you, rotting you from the outside in, but you didn’t move. “We will be unrivaled after this, just…untouchable, y/n.”

Unbreakable.

You felt weak, sitting there under him, letting him touch your face and hold you and kiss you. There was nothing you could do but pretend, play along, and you felt like you needed to bathe as he ran his knuckles down the length of your face. He disgusted you to no end. He had the audacity to call himself your father, but he was nothing but a broken, empty, merciless sadist. You didn’t realize how much you truly hated him until this moment. You felt a burning desire to open the balcony doors and toss him thirty stories over, but instead, you smiled, cried, called him family, and you felt begrimed with yourself for letting him go even this far with you.

I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes there are no leashes on me any longer. I wonder what he will say when he realizes I’m not his. I wonder what he will do when I take back what’s mine.

You stood up from your seat, standing beside him in the mirror. You were wearing a white strapless dress, a corset hugging your figure until your hips, where the dress flowed out until your ankles. There was a tall slit on one side of the skirt, intentional so you could have easy access to your thigh holster and the gun you would put in it. You reached for the gun sitting on your vanity, but your father put a hand over it, putting it back down.

“You won’t need that, y/n,” he shook his head. “You’re with me now. I’ll protect you.”

You froze, your eyes darting from the gun back to his face. You let go of it finally, and he put it away into one of your drawers. You swallowed, watching him move around in your things.

“Do you think…he’ll try and hurt me?” You asked him, and your father stood up straight. He shrugged finally. There was no concern in his face.

“I would hope not,” he replied, putting a hand on your shoulder. “My men tell me Thomas is quite enamored with you. So…I think tonight will go smoothly, y/n. You did perfectly, baby. He cares for you…he’s been gaining power here…you could not have done better.” He smiled, something sinister in his eyes, brushing your hair back and away from your eyes. “You’re perfect, y/n. And if he tries anything…my men will take care of him. While I’d like him alive to sign away his properties, once you’re married, I’m sure we’ll be able to acquire everything ourselves. Just keep him calm until you’ve signed the papers, y/n. After that, I’ll take care of the rest. Yes?”

“Yes, daddy,” you said obediently, nodding your head. He leaned over and kissed your forehead, and then he let go of you.

“Come. The car is waiting for us downstairs.”

He adjusted his suit jacket as he left your bedroom, and you went to gather your purse, about to stuff your gun into it when your phone began buzzing. You glanced to make sure your father wasn’t near before picking up, seeing Harrison’s name blinking across it. You put the phone to your ear, swallowing.

“Harrison, what is it? This is not a good time,” you hissed lowly.

“y/n, where is Ri?”

His voice came out cracked, a bit shaky, and you frowned. It was then that you realize Mariposa had never checked in with you.

“I…I asked her to do something for me. It shouldn’t have taken long,” you said in a whisper, peeking around to make sure you were still alone.

“y/n, she’s been…she’s been gone for hours,” Harrison breathed. You closed your eyes, putting a hand to your forehead.

Mariposa, not now. God, not now.

“Shit,” you mumbled, swallowing hard. “Shit, Harrison…shit! Shit…tell Tom it’s gone to hell, Harrison.”

“What?!” Harrison shrieked from the other end. “What the fuck are you talking about?! y/n, we gotta…we gotta get Ri. Tell me where you’re meeting, I’m going to—”

“Harrison, don’t,” you warned him. “You’ll be outnumbered there, and we don’t have time to discuss how to get her out. You leave it to me.”

“y/n, fuck!” Harrison cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Harrison, relax,” you whispered. “She can take care of herself. She’s going to be fine.”

Do you truly believe that, or are you just trying to make yourself feel better?

“If she doesn’t come out of this, y/n, I’m going to kill you,” Harrison said hoarsely. “I’m going to kill you, y/n, I swear it.”

And I’ll let you.

“Harrison, I have to go—”

“She’s pregnant, y/n,” Harrison snapped. “S-She’s…she’s…”

All the air left your lungs. Your heart completely fell flat in your chest, and your body felt limp and frozen all at once, a coldness going through you that had you chilled to the core. Mariposa hadn’t even batted an eye to do as you asked.

And I’ve just sent her to her deathbed.

You heard your father coming near, and you hung up quickly, shutting your purse. Your father stood in the doorway, nodding his head, and you slipped your heels on before hurrying towards his outstretched arm. You took it, wrapping your arm around his, following him out of your apartment and downstairs, where he had called a car for you both. De Luca was driving, and you both got into the backseat. You felt around your skirt, almost letting out a scream when you realized you had forgotten your gun, sitting in your vanity drawer.

And I’ve sent myself to my own deathbed.

You gave your father a tight-lipped smile before looking out the window as the car started. You had to keep wiping your hands on your dress because of how sweaty they were becoming. You told yourself that you didn’t need a gun. You were capable all on your own, and you could take down someone double your size without nothing but your heels. A gun was only worth as much as the person behind it, and you were much more than metal and fast bullets. You were human, and you were much more dangerous than any gun you’d ever held.

I have to be. I have to be better.

You could feel your heart pounding, so hard that the blood was rushing in your ears. You were so on edge. You wondered how far Mariposa got before they caught her. You wondered, selfishly, if she finished what she was supposed to do before they got to her. You wondered, helplessly, if she admitted what she had done for you.

You shook your head a bit, putting a hand over your mouth. You had to trust that Mariposa had gotten it done, and that she would keep her mouth shut. Mariposa always, always did as you asked, and she always came through in the end. She would come through for you one last time, you had to trust that. You had to trust that she could take care of herself.

Because if anything happens to her, I will kill myself before Harrison has the chance to.

You were struggling not to shake. You had always prided yourself on being so well composed, even when you weren’t prepared for what was ahead, but nothing was going the way it was supposed to.

The car stopped finally, and neither you nor your father moved from your seat. You turned to look at him, and he met your own eyes.

“I’m scared, daddy,” you whispered finally, and you weren’t lying. “People are going to get hurt, and—”

He reached over and put a hand over yours on your lap, squeezing your hand gently. He shook his head.

“I’m here, y/n,” he said lowly. “Everything will be alright. You have to trust me. I can’t do this without you.”

You can’t do this without me. You can’t do anything without me. You couldn’t do it without your wife, and now you can’t do it without me.

You nodded finally, squeezing his hand back, and he let go of you to pull out the gun tucked into his trousers. It was your father prized possession, his favorite gun, the one with the chrome detailing and scratched metal and wooden accents. It was the gun he used to taunt you with at home, the gun that was always just out of reach, the gun you so desperately ached to inherit. That weapon was a symbol of your father’s power, the first gun he ever owned, and it had gotten him to this place, right here. You stared at it now, and you could not have despised its presence more.

You didn’t need your father’s trinkets to know you had power. You didn’t need to inherit anything from him to know that you were more worthy of his fortune than he ever taught you to believe.

You didn’t even need his name.

Seeing him check the chamber for bullets brought life back into you. You took a deep breath, and lights flashed in your head, images of everything you had done just to be sitting here, beside him, full of purpose. You closed your eyes as you let out that deep breath, straightening out your posture, letting that breath trickle from your toes all the way up your spine.

That woman you saw in the mirror? You needed her now more than ever. You couldn’t escape her, you couldn’t be free of her, you couldn’t even decipher who she really was or how she truly came to be, but if you couldn’t be rid of her, you needed to use her. You had gotten yourself to the finish line.

And she will get me past it.

De Luca opened the door for you, and you stepped out onto the sidewalk. You met his eyes for a moment, shutting the door behind you, and he stared at you right back.

This is wrong. You know it is.

Your father took you by the arm, tearing your eyes away from De Luca’s own. You swallowed as he guided you up the sidewalk, your eyes scanning over the familiar warehouse you had spent the whole day in. Whenever you were working in here, you felt like you belonged, you felt in charge, and you felt safe. You were anything but on edge now, the creaking of the front door making you flinch now. It was dead silent inside instead of the normally bustling warehouse, and all of your men were gone. The office upstairs was lit, but the shades were drawn, and your father guided you up the stairs to go inside.

He was sitting there, in a chair in front of the empty desk, a half-burnt cigarette hanging off his fingertips. Your father let you go, nodding at you, and you came up behind him, putting your hand on his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment until your fingers touched his cheek, and you leaned over and kissed the skin there.

I’ll always be yours, and you will always be mine.

De Luca picked up a leather chair from the corner, setting it down beside Tom for you. You took a seat in it, crossing one leg over the other, turning to glance at Tom. Your eyes met for a moment, and it took everything in you to refrain from taking his hand and squeezing it. He just nodded slightly, so slight you could barely see it, and you realized he was telling you that Harrison had told him what happened, that he was aware.

“Mr. Holland, I’m going to have to search your person. Just for…security reasons,” De Luca said lowly, and Tom handed you the cigarette before standing. From the inside of his jacket, De Luca found a pair of brass knuckles and a switchblade, and from his waistband he found a handgun, setting them down on the desk in front of your father, who nodded for De Luca to take them. The door shut behind him, and then it was just the three of you, staring at each other, no one daring to speak for a few achingly long moments.

A bookshelf lined the back wall of the office, piled high with peeling hardcover texts, papers messily sticking out of files, and rusted and dusty trinkets of all shapes and sizes. There was a single lamp in the corner of the office, beside the bar cart, and the yellowness of the bulb flickered every so often, drawing a strange light over the entire room. The shades were drawn for privacy, making the room even darker, and the mahogany desk your father sat behind was spread out with lone papers, empty liquor glasses, and ashtrays filled with ash and cigarettes. It was quiet, nothing but the slight creak of the hardwood floor. You thought this wouldn’t be the most suitable place to die.

I’ll get dust in my starry eyes.

“I’ve got to admit, Thomas, I never thought we’d be here,” your father chuckled, leaning forward and folding his hands together on the desk. Tom’s face was stoic and unreadable, completely blank as he let your father speak. “And I never thought it would be under these circumstances.”

Tom took the cigarette back from you, taking a long drag from it, letting out a breath through his nose. The cigarette glowed for a moment, casting an orange light over his face, and it only made him seem all the more intimidating.

“Your daughter and I have accomplished much together here,” Tom said simply. “I don’t see a reason to change that.”

“And neither does she,” your father sighed, shaking his head. “I’ve been trying for a long while to get her to marry someone to my liking, but I’m sure you’ve figured out by now how difficult she can really be.”

Tom shrugged, “I find she’s quite agreeable when you simply give her what she wants, isn’t that right, love?”

You didn’t say anything, just shifted in your seat.

“I have to disagree,” your father countered. “It seems the more I give into what she wants, the more she demands. Her desires are insatiable, aren’t they, sweetheart?”

You met his eyes, and it was all you needed to know that he was looking right through you. He smiled finally, and you felt helpless as he leaned back in the leather chair.

He knows. He’s known all this time.

“When did you realize that, daddy?” You asked, just above a whisper, and he shrugged, reaching for his own pack of cigarettes in his blazer pocket. He lit it with a match, tossing the burnt stick onto the desk, and you watched as small tendrils of black smoke rose from the now black bud of the match. The same orange glow came over his face, but it did nothing to make your father any more menacing.

He isn’t. He’s a small man in clothes that don’t fit. Don’t let him make you feel less than what you are.

“When Viktor came about,” he replied simply. “How did that feel, Thomas? My daughter, killing that Russian leech for you? Convenient, wasn’t it, that he wanted a piece of my daughter…little did he know how skilled she was, how…how well she fared under pressure, how…instinctive murder could be for someone so sweet and innocent. He was quite a problem for you, wasn’t he, Thomas?”

Tom narrowed his eyes a bit, sucking hard on his cigarette, his nose scrunching up for a moment, but he stayed silent.

“But you, y/n…you killed him without a second thought, didn’t you?”

“He was trying to kill me, daddy,” you said stiffly. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“No,” your father chuckled. “We always have choices, my darling. You just chose something different.” You blinked, confused. Tom smirked finally, shaking his head as he scoffed. You turned to look at him.

“It was you,” Tom said lowly. “With the Russians, aye?”

You frowned, your head turning to look at your father, whose smile was still plastered eerily on his face.

“Daddy, that’s not true,” you laughed a bit, nervously. “Tell me that’s not true.”

He was silent for a few moments, still grinning, “you know, y/n…you are smart, but you are terribly blind,” he sighed. “I thought I taught you better than that.”

“Did you know Viktor was going to kill me?” You breathed, your whole body on edge as your father let out a cloud of smoke from between his lips. “D-Did you know what he was doing? What he was planning on doing?”

“Of course I did, y/n,” he said easily. “I paid the bastard.”

Your lips parted, and you scoffed, moving to stand, but Tom put a hand on your arm, forcing you back into your seat. You had angry tears in your eyes, and you were glaring at your father, and he was glaring right back.

A small man in clothes that don’t fit.

“I think I can forgive the shit you pulled with the Russians if we can come to a fair agreement,” Tom muttered finally. “We came here to get married. Not discuss family issues. This is between me and you, Mr. y/l/n.”

“You’re right, Thomas,” your father grinned again, nodding his head. “Here’s what I want. I’d like to secure the routes along the Hudson and Staten Island. And—” He paused to suck a long drag from his cigarette, “I want your Brighton contacts.”

Tom chuckled a bit, “no,” and then he shook his head.

“And,” your father continued, producing a paper from the file on his desk. It was the marriage certificate, courtesy from New York city hall. “I want London.”

Your father produced two black ink ballpoint pens, setting them down on the desk for you to sign the paper. You reached instinctively for the gun on your thigh, but you felt nothing. There was nothing there. You had nothing but yourself.

And that has to be enough.

Tom scoffed, “that’s not a deal,” he said simply.

“And,” your father laughed a bit, “Manhattan. I want it all, Tom. And you’re going to give it to me.”

Take me apart, piece by piece.

“Daddy—”

“You shut up,” your father snapped, standing, slamming his fist on the desk. “I’m so fucking tired of you, y/n. I’m so fucking sick of you talking back to me. I’m so fucking sick of you, thinking that you’re anything but my daughter! You have no place here! Shut your fucking mouth, because your word means nothing here!”

Bury me, so deep you can’t hear me screaming anymore.

“You were never going to make a deal with me,” Tom murmured, calmly taking a drag of his cigarette. “Mmm…you were right, y/n. He’s a crazy prick.”

Your father chuckled darkly, “of course I was never going to make a fucking deal with you, Thomas, are you an idiot? You’re vulnerable here. You did this to yourself. You fell in love with my…e-excuse for an heir, and now it’s coming back to bite you in the fucking ass. That’s what happens when you fall in love, when you put your trust in women like y/n.” Your father picked up his empty glass from the table, finishing it. “They’re snakes. You get fucked. That’s all they do. They take, and they take, and they take from you. They’re uncontrollable, fickle little girls that know nothing of authority or of honor.”

I’ll always come back.

You watched with glassy eyes as he rounded the desk, going for the bar cart by the door. He poured himself a generous glass, and then two more for you and Tom. You met Tom’s eyes, but he just shook his head. Tom was not in charge. It had to be you.

Piece by piece, put me back together.

“You’ll learn that quickly, Thomas,” your father continued, bringing the glasses to you both. “You’ll learn that after you sign your name. You’ll learn that after I take every single piece of you that fucking matters, and you’ll learn, but you’ll never be able to fix your fucking mistakes. You’ll be long fuckin’ dead before you get that chance.”

“Is that why you killed my mother?” You shot back, squeezing the glass in your hand. “For honor?”

Do it again. Over and over again.

Your father laughed hysterically, tossing his head back for a moment.

“Oh, sweetheart, of course not. It’s because she was useless to me,” he leaned down towards you, shaking his head. “She refused to give me a son. And all she did was try and tell me how blessed I was to have you, y/n. And you know…whatever she did for you, whatever fucking men of mine helped you along the way, I do have something to be thankful for when it comes to you, y/n. You weren’t useless, and that’s why I hate to do this to you. For once in my life, something good came from my fucking family, and you did exactly as I thought you would. Predictable you are, so it was easy.” He kissed your forehead. “You brought Tom Holland to his knees. Just as I thought your beautiful face would.”

My resilience is limitless.

You started to breathe deeper, slower, and your father raised his glass.

“A toast! To the newlyweds.”

At the cue, the door opened, and both you and Tom stood up when all of your father’s men shuffled into the room, your men. Then there was Mariposa, her face covered in running mascara as Jacob, your Jacob, held her by the hair as he pressed a gun to her head. Her hands were tied, her shoes were missing, and she already had a purpling bruise forming on her cheek, a gash near her hairline. Your father was thorough, you would give him that. And for a moment, you regretted getting close to Mariposa, to Tom, you regretted becoming anything more than acquaintances with them because you were powerless now.

You’re wrong.

“There was no missing shipment in Brooklyn, was there?” You asked finally. “All of this…this whole fucking thing…is was bullshit, daddy, wasn’t it?”

Your father shrugged, “what can I say, y/n? I’ve been doing this a long time. These things, acquiring new territory—it takes time! And I’m a patient man, I really am. I do pride myself on waiting for things to fall into my lap rather than getting my hands dirty. You know how it is. When you get to the top, when you are like me, baby, you don’t have to do anything but wait.”

You watched as your father came up to Jacob, putting his hand on Mariposa’s cheek. She cried out as your father kicked her to her knees, and you froze.

You’re wrong. There is nothing more dangerous than a woman in love.

“So what?” You called out. “You have Tom and I sign these stupid papers, and then what?”

“And then I order these men to put a fucking bullet in his head, sweetheart,” your father dragged his knuckles down Mariposa’s cheek. “And then his brothers. And then I take a nice trip to London to take care of my new responsibilities, with you in tow, and that marriage certificate. And then I take what’s rightfully mine.”

You saw your father pull out his chrome pistol, the metal reflecting the yellowing light flickering around you.

“Sign the papers, y/n,” your father said, turning to face you. “Sign them now.”

You stepped forward, but your father pointed his gun at Mariposa, who cried out as he pressed the barrel to her forehead. Tom subtly put a hand on your arm, keeping you still, and his touch brought you back to the ground.

“I didn’t think Giovanni was telling me the fucking truth,” he chuckled. “He told me you and Thomas were closer than you let on, but I didn’t believe him. Because y/n, I really…for a second I thought maybe you could truly be my blood. But you’re weak, sweetheart. You’re soft. And I thought I taught you better.”

He gripped a handful of Mariposa’s curls, forcing her neck back, sighing, “you can’t have good people in this business. You can’t have people you love. You can’t have strings attached. Because then they end up like this, y/n…” He looked down pitifully at Mariposa’s darkening green eyes. “You end up getting them killed.”

Threaten what she loves, and you find out what she’s made of.

“I’ll sign the papers,” you whispered. “I’ll sign the fucking papers, just…let her go, daddy. Please. Just let her go.”

He nodded his chin towards the desk, and you slowly turned, rounding to the front of the desk. You sat down in his leather chair, picking up the pen and scribbling your name on the line. Your father was quick to pull on Mariposa’s hair again, and Tom growled under his breath before picking up the pen and signing his own name. You let your hands fall into your lap, and then you met Mariposa’s sweet eyes. There were tears in them, but you could see the faint nod of her head, and you felt under the desk, feeling the tape and then the cool hand of the gun she had hid underneath it. You wrapped your hand around it, sucking in a breath.

You are not made of metal and wire.

“There. It’s done,” you said softly, and your father nodded his head towards you and Tom again. His men, your men, held up their handguns to you both, and you stared at all of them. Each of them, you made sure to meet their eyes, searching for anything inside of them besides pure, blinding obedience. De Luca had struggle in his eyes, and you would play on that. You had to.

Your father let go of Mariposa, who slumped down on her knees, her sniffles gentle and soft. You tightened your grip on the gun under the desk.

You are made of skin and bone.

“Do you always have your men do your dirty work for you, daddy?” You interrupted him. “Do they always do just as you say, just like helpless, blind dogs?”

“You’ll never get to find out, my love,” your father said simply, sighing deeply. “This isn’t how I wanted it to go, y/n. I did want you to be a part of this. I did want you to work with me. But…” he shrugged his shoulders with a laugh, “you weren’t made for this life. This business…it’s not for you.”

You are made of fire and smoke.

“If you knew me at all, you’d know how full of shit you are,” you snapped. “Do you know what it feels like to kill someone, daddy? Do you know how it feels to…watch them die in front of you? Do you know what it looks like?”

“Of course I do, y/n.”

You scoffed, “you’ve never done it yourself, have you? Not once in your sorry life have you ever done it on your own. You’ve always made good people, people like these men, like me…you’ve always made good people do your bidding. Not once have you ever, ever been man enough to do it yourself, isn’t that right?”

“I’ve given—”

“Orders,” you finished for him, gathering up the saliva in your mouth and spitting at him. “It’s pathetic. You’re a coward. You have no idea what it takes, daddy. All this time…all this time you talk about how much I don’t know about business. You talk about how incapable I am at running things. But you’re wrong. You weren’t made for this business. You’ve never been made for it. You’ve just been pretending. But I will tell you something, daddy…you’re damn good at pretending.”

You are made of blood and tears, memory and starlight, and he has convinced you for so long that what you are made of is something to be ashamed of.

Your father snickered a bit, and you stood up, pulling the gun out from under the desk, holding it up to him, aiming right at his chest. His men all changed direction, from having their guns pointed at Tom to having their guns pointed right at you.

“y/n…don’t be ridiculous,” your father said, shaking his head. “All of my men, against you? C’mon. Just put it down.”

He told you that because he is afraid. He is afraid of what women can do when they know what they’re made of.

“They’re not your men, daddy,” you said lowly. “They’re mine.”

Your father sighed, running a hand over his face before he brought up his own gun.

“y/n, don’t make me do this,” he said, sounding annoyed. “All of this mess, it’s really not necessary.”

“You’ve never shot that thing,” you laughed bitterly. “Even from this close, you’ll shoot anywhere but at me. But I won’t miss. And you know that.”

A look of doubt crossed his features as he looked at the gun and then back at you. It was true. His gun had been scratched, used, touched, played with, but not a single fleck of gunpowder had ever left the barrel. Your father had never fired a gun, you knew that, but he liked to play with guns anyway. Your father was just a boy in a man’s shoes, and he would always be that way.

“Did you hear me, daddy?” You called him out of his thoughts. “I won’t miss.”

“But my men—”

“They’re mine,” you interrupted him. “I dare you to order them to shoot me. They won’t. I’m not scared of them. Do you have the same faith in them, daddy? Are you so sure they won’t shoot you?”

He is afraid of me. He is afraid of me, and I have him.

Your father laughed, but it was nervous laughter. His voice cracked halfway through, and you knew you had him. You met De Luca’s eyes again, and he slowly, so slowly, lowered his weapon. The rest of the room watched, and after a few tense, silent moments, the guns pointed in your direction were drawn towards the floor. De Luca put himself in front of Mariposa, his body shielding hers, and the look in your father’s eyes was one of complete, utter disbelief.

You rounded the desk, lowering the gun pointed at your father. You handed it to Tom, who took it gratefully. Your father hadn’t lowered his gun, but you knew the trigger wouldn’t budge.

He still has the fucking safety on.

You stepped in front of him. You had been in front of a gun a few times before now, but it felt different this time. It was strange standing on the other side of a gun you used to admire, a gun you used to worship. On the other side of it, even worse, was a man who had never seen you as anything more than his little weapon, his object of a little girl. You thought you could love him all over again. You thought there was something redeemable in him. You thought that maybe, just maybe, New York would be your chance to change his mind.

“He will never learn until it’s too late, and by then, nothing will be able to save him.”

Your father had no redeemable qualities. He never would. Even now, staring at you in a room where his power meant nothing, he was still trying to put you down.

At the end, all we have left are our words. It is a shame that his will mean nothing.

“You think this means you’ve…become something?” Your father breathed, pressing the gun into your chest. It was cool against your skin. “You think just because you got a room full of men to be on your fucking side that you’re anything but my little girl?”

You stared at him blankly, unmoving.

“You’re still nothing, y/n. You’re still nothing, you’re not ready. You don’t have what it takes to do what I do. You don’t have the fucking…y-you…” He struggled to find the words, and you tilted your head to the side, watching him catch his breath. “You’re still a scared little girl at heart, and just because you’ve been running things in New York, you think you’re prepared to run my empire? You’re as stupid as you look, y/n.”

“Maybe I’m not ready,” you laughed a bit. “But I’m not alone. That’s your problem. Everyone around you is an enemy. Even me, your…your daughter. You don’t have family. You don’t have friends. You push everyone away because you think that being at the top is duty enough for only one man. You isolated yourself, daddy, and now look at you. It’s over, and you’re alone. You pushed everyone away, and it…it killed you.”

“I’m not dead, y/n.”

“You’ll wish you were,” you whispered, shaking your head. His pupils dilated at the sound of your soft voice. There was malice in it, evil, pity. He couldn’t accept that he was the only man against you, he couldn’t accept that for once in his life, he was losing, to you no less. “Put it down. It’s over, dad.”

“It’s not over,” he grunted, putting his finger on the trigger. He hated that you didn’t seem afraid, he hated not being feared. You were so calm, and it was eating at him inside. “It’s not over! It’s not over until I say that it’s over! It’s not fucking over! You’re my daughter! You’re going to turn around, grab that fucking piece of paper, you’re going to put a bullet in Tom Holland’s fucking head, and you’re going to give me what I want!”

He is afraid of me.

“No,” you said softly.

I like this feeling.

“No?!” Your father scoffed. “God, dammit, y/n, I’m not fucking joking around anymore! I’m your father!”

Your throat closed when he pressed on the trigger, his index finger squeezing it hard. The barrel, pointed right at your chest, and from this close, with the metal touching your skin, there was no hesitation. It was a spot to kill, and he had pulled the trigger. But just as you knew, the trigger didn’t move, and you snatched the gun out of his hand, using the back of it and hitting him on the side of the head. You watched him crumple onto the floor, onto his knees, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched him bring a shaking hand up to his forehead, touching the fresh wound there, wincing.

The devil does bleed, it seems.

“You’re no one to me anymore,” you said faintly. “You mean nothing to me.”

You couldn’t hear anything anymore. All you could see was white. You didn’t blink, you didn’t think, you just did.

“Nothing? Nothing?!” Your father laughed. “You’re making the biggest mistake of your entire—”

You just did. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the hatred, or the anger, or the desperation inside of you, the part of you that just wanted to be free. Or maybe it was her, the woman who you needed so badly but who you were ashamed of. It had to be her. She liked blood.

You have gotten yourself to the finish line. And she will get me past it.

You could hear them calling your name, somewhere, far away. They were calling your name, telling you to stop, but you couldn’t. She had taken over you completely, and it was as if you weren’t in control anymore. Anger had devoured you, swallowed you whole, and the woman it spat out was the woman you were hiding from everyone else. You didn’t know forgiveness, not today.

Over and over again, you couldn’t stop. You thought maybe you were screaming, because your throat was starting to hurt. Maybe you were crying, because your face was wet, or maybe it was the blood. Your arm ached, it was tired, but you couldn’t stop bringing it down, over and over again, as hard as the woman inside of you allowed. She was ruthless, she was reckless. She had no mercy, none at all.

She has no idea what I have in me. She has no idea what I can do, but she’s realizing it, and she won’t let me stop.

Strong arms wrapped around you, yanking you up off the ground. You dropped the gun you were holding, and it clattered onto the floor, but you couldn’t hear it still. There was a ringing in your ear, and all of their voices were distant, detached, faint as you stared down at your father. He was starry-eyed; if you looked away too quickly, you would miss them fading into nothingness.

“y/n! y/n, fuck, stop!”

It was him. His voice came through first, suddenly loud and clear, right in your ear, and you had been screaming, because as soon as the ringing stopped, you could hear your own voice crying out in anger. You closed your mouth, finally quieting.

“y/n, it’s alright,” he whispered in your ear, not letting you go. You had been kicking and screaming as he held you, trying so hard to break away and let the woman finish her bidding.

Let her finish using me to do what she really wanted to do.

“It’s over. It’s over, baby,” his voice soothed you, soft and honeylike in your ear, and his touch was warm, firm, tight against you. “I’ve got you. It’s over.”

“I-I—” Your voice caught in your throat, and you turned around to face him, hot tears on your face. “I-I don’t know what c-came over me—”

You let out a sob, and Tom put a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into his chest, quieting your cries. Tom made eye contact with De Luca, who understood almost immediately. He undid the ties around Mariposa’s arms before picking up your father’s gun, dripping with blood.

“What…w-what did I do, Tommy?” You wept into the crook of his neck, “what…what did I do?”

Tom said nothing as he kept you securely in his chest. He stared down at the floor, your father limp and lifeless against the hardwood, his face a mangled, unrecognizable mess of flesh and blood and bone now. For a few moments, Tom hadn’t been able to move. There was a madness inside of you that had rendered him absolutely useless, a blind, merciless hatred enthralled over your entire being that even he had been afraid of. Your father had been reduced to nothing at your hand, and the memory stuck with Tom even as De Luca and your men dragged him out of the room, the door shutting behind them.

Tom reached a hand out to Mariposa, who was still on the ground, shaking on her knees. She reached for his hand and took it, letting him lift her off of the ground. Tom wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her into his chest, and then Tom had two girls against him, their tears wetting his shirt as he held them together. He closed his eyes painfully, kissing the tops of both their heads.

“It’s alright,” he assured you both. “It’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Mariposa clung to Tom, her arm going around his middle, and she found comfort in his chest, her cheek against it as she hid there. She put her other arm around you, despite the blood all over you, and she held the both of you as close to herself as she could, closing her eyes as silent tears fell down her face.

You opened your eyes finally, turning your head to see Mariposa, her green eyes wide as she opened them to meet yours, too. You reached out with a shaky hand and touched her cheek, wiping away a stray tear, and you smeared blood on her, but she didn’t seem to mind.

You were a long way from being kids. Far away, miles away, years away. You grew up knowing this sweet face of hers, but now that you stared back at each other, you both knew things were different. This was a long way from cops and robbers, from kiss and don’t tell. You had seen each other do things for one another in the last six months that you never thought you would, and now that you were staring at each other like this, you knew there was nothing that could tear you apart anymore. There was nothing that would ever take you away from her again, from Tom, from Harrison, from your family.

My real family.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out, and Mariposa shook her head, not saying a word as she stared back at you. She didn’t need to say anything. You already knew the answer. Mariposa would do anything for you. It didn’t matter what you asked, she would do it for you, and she wasn’t sorry that she did it for you. She would do it again, even if she knew what would happen afterwards.

You looked up finally, right into Tom’s dark eyes. He was staring down at you, and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, and you sucked in a shaky breath at his touch.

“Tommy,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and broken. “Why didn’t you…you did nothing. You didn’t stop me…you barely said…a word.”

He shook his head, “it wasn’t my fight, y/n. It had…it had to be you.”

Tom wiped the tears that quickly fell down your face, and you tucked your face back into his chest, his warmth the only thing keeping you together.

It had to be you.

There was a part of you that knew he was right. It did have to be you. Your whole entire life, you had fought with your father. Your fought for his attention, then you fought for his approval, and then you were fighting just to open his eyes. Your entire existence had been dedicated to proving him wrong. More than two decades of your life, you had buried the growing hatred and covered with some kind of mock love, some kind of sense of duty to being your father’s daughter. But you were never meant to be your father’s daughter, no, you were meant to be something else.

You are meant to be you, and no one else.

You squeezed your hands into fists, and you grimaced to yourself when you felt how sticky your hands were, clammy and thick with blood. When you closed your eyes, there were glimpses, flashes in your memory of the things you had done, the things you had seen. You had seen spiders once inside of you in your dreams, crawling, poisonous creatures with webs that had choked you. Then, you had seen blood, drawing red rivers of tears down the length of your face, war paint that you wore with dread as you swallowed it in metallic-tasting mouthfuls.

The nightmare you saw now was yourself. You, without decoration; it was just you, with nothing but warm eyes, cool tears, and your bare hands. You, who you saw now, this woman, she was the most terrifying nightmare you could think of. She found her hiding place in you, and she was there to stay. You could see her getting up, feel her making her way into your breaths, drawing fire from your heart, pushing pain into all the places you had closed off before.

No. No, no, no.

Suddenly, she was gone. Tom’s hand cupped one side of your face, coaxing your eyes to open, and you couldn’t help the flow of tears that followed. You were battling yourself, struggling to keep your sanity, but he made you feel like everything was still, calm, unmoving. You just had to focus on him, because if you didn’t, you had no idea where your mind would go.

It would roll and keep rolling, all the way until it fell off the edge. And I can’t see the bottom of this pit inside of me.

“I love you,” you whispered, and nothing could make you feel lighter than the way he looked at you then. His dark eyes softened, growing lighter in color as they stared down at you, and you wished he would always look at you like this because it made you feel whole again.

“I love you.”

She had no mercy. She was relentless in her efforts to draw you into that hole, that deep, endless whole of nothingness, but she would fail, you knew she would. She would fail each and every time. You knew what would happen every time you nearly tripped over that edge, every time she caught your ankle and dragged you. You knew she stood no chance against Tom. Tom could draw out the parts inside of you that you always kept buried, and he would do it, again and again, for as long as he needed to.

You knew he would. She had no mercy.

But he does. And he will catch me when I go too far. Every single time.

read chapter ten

#oh wow #the chapter to end all chapters wowowowow #hope you enjoyed it #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #mob!tom #notorious

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hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong · 3 years

Text

Pretty lies, ugly truths

The control room had detected a new singularity. This one was located in the spanish capital of Madrid in modern day.

Da Vinci: we can't detect much about the singularity itself, it seems that there's a powerful magical field around the whole thing.

Rex: well fuck... will we be able to even communicate?

Sion: we'll work on making communications work while you're out there but for the beginning you'll be on your own.

Rex: ugh...

Gordy: you'll be able to handle it, can't be that bad of a singularity right?

Rex: I feel like you're jinxing us.

Da Vinci: regardless, this one's a big one. It needs to be handled soon!

Rex: we'll handle it!

Chaldea was sending in Rex, Quetzalcoatl, and Mash Kyrielight into the Madrid singularity to handle things. Soon the three got into their coffins and rayshifting commenced.

3...2...1!

Once they were inside the singularity, they noticed something odd... it was snowing heavily.

Rex: holy crap... that's a heavy snow...

Mash: yes, maybe the snow is what's interfering with the signal.

Quetz: does that mean it's a magical snow? Like in sca- Ugh!

Out of nowhere Quetz doubles over in pain

Rex: Quetz!

Rex runs over to help but before he can something interrupts them.

???: Weigh Anchor!

Out of nowhere a huge ship appears in the streets of the city, heading towards the group

Mash: Senpai!

Mash moves to shield Rex and Quetz from the ship but ends up knocked away along with Rex

Rex: fuck!

Then coming from the ship, chains appear binding Quetzalcoatl, who was too weakened to be able to break free

Quetz: que?! What's going on?!

Rex: Hey! Let her go!

???: finally! We've been waiting for you for a long time!

Quetz: huh?!

When the group looked up at the ship, they recognized it. It was the Santa Maria that Columbus captained. But the man on top looked different.

Columbus?: I'm so sorry Missy, but the boss needs your spirit origin. And what the boss wants, he gets.

The man dressed similar to Columbus but looked much younger and less sinister.

Rex: who the hell are you?! Let go of my wife!

Columbus?: you don't know who I am? Well... then again... I guess you've become accustomed to the real me. Alright! Listen up laddy! Because this will probably be the last name you hear about before die!

Rex and Mash looked up at the man, both angry at the bastard.

Columbus: I am Christopher Columbus! But specifically I'm the Columbus you were told about in your schools! The heroic traveler who against all odds managed to discover America! I'm not the horrible schemer and slaver you're accustom to!

Rex: so you're the lie we were fed as children to justify your farce of a holiday?!

Columbus: rude way to put it but yes! Now if you'll excuse me!

The man snapped his fingers and out came an army of men clad in red appeared.

Rex: what the-

Mash: senpai! That's the spanish inquisition!

Rex: seriously!?

Mash: looks like them!

Columbus: that's right lil lady! Anyways, I'll be leaving you to them while I take this lady back to the base! Seeya!

The boat leaves, with Quetzalcoatl inside, unable to do much.

Rex: DAMN YOU!!!!

Rex wanted to make chase but the inquisition members blocked him off

Soldier: give it up master of chaldea! You do not stand a chance against the inquisition!

Rex: fuck off asshats!

In all his Fury Rex blasts fire at the soldiers, while Mash fights them off with her shield.

Mash: senpai! There's too many!

Rex: to hell with that! We've faced worse odds and came out fine! I'll be damned if I let them get away with my wife!

But the odds really were looking grim, until suddenly the snow intensified around them, mostly focusing on the soldiers.

Soldier 1: ack! The snow! What's happening!

Soldier 2: must be that damned ice queen!

Rex: ice queen?

Then from behind Rex and Mash, another servant comes in to get them out of there, Shakespeare.

Shakespeare: come on you two! We need to get you to safety!

Rex: but I need to save Quetz!

Shakespeare: that can wait! You need to be alive to do so anyway!

Rex: alright fine!

Then the two follow Shakespeare towards safety.

Soldier: where'd the two go!?

The group came out of the storm and were taken into what looked to be a book store. Inside were the two other authors Rex was familiar with.

Anderson: how'd it go Shakespeare?

Shakespeare: not amazing, they got to her.

Murasaki: how unfortunate.

Rex: can someone tell me what's going on?

Mash: yes, I'd appreciate that too.

Murasaki: this is a very unique singularity, it was intended as a trap.

Rex: a trap!? For Quetz?!

Anderson: yes, for whatever reason some mastermind wants her spirit origin. We're not sure why or who, but we do know it can't be good.

Rex: then we have to save her!

Murasaki: you're not in a condition to fight right now, and besides that mastermind won't won't able to do anything as of yet.

Mash: how can you be certain.

Shakespeare: we've been summoned here for a while and we've observed that the man in charge isn't here. There's someone in charge of the singularity but they're taking orders from someone else, somewhere else.

Anderson: and I've stopped their communications with said boss with my Ice Queen's blizzard.

Mash: you're responsible for the snow?

Rex: how can you make such a powerful snowstorm with a fictional character?

Murasaki: that's the nature of this singularity. Somehow authorial works have far more power. We assume who ever made this trap of a singularity is responsible.

Mash: have any guesses as to who it is?

Shakespeare: oh do we!

Anderson: we're pretty sure it's Miguel de Cervantes.

Mash: what makes you so sure?

Murasaki: because one of his most famous creations is also one of the greatest threats here: Don Quixote.

Rex: Don Quixote? But he was just some old delusional fool who thought he lived in a knight story!

Anderson: yeah, normally. But it seems his delusions became a noble phantasm! That turns fantasy into reality.

Mash: could that be why stories are becoming real all in this singularity?

Murasaki: we believe so...

Mash: fantasy to reality... so that makes you three the perfect allies... but what's the plan...

But Rex was getting antsy, wandering the shelves of the book store. He hated being without his wife, it'd been a long time since they were separated like this.

Mash: senpai...

Shakespeare: he can't handle it...

Rex looked through the books, eventually coming to the comics section...

Rex: hey... if you can turn fantasy into reality... how about pulling a Moriarty on me...

Mash: huh? Senpai what are you talking about?

Rex: Moriarty has that gun from that one German story... if the authors can do something similar to help me... I can save her.

Murasaki: that doesn't sound outside the realm of possibility.

Anderson: what did you have in mind?

Rex: lemme see If I can find it...

He looked through the comics, until he found what he was looking for.

Rex: ah ha! This here!

He pulled out a book, and opened to a particular page. In it was planet, a planet made of a dark colored ooze. The inhabit creepy looking slime monsters.

Rex: this! Symbiotes from marvel.

Shakespeare: interesting...

Anderson: not sure how I feel adapting a modern work like that...

Rex: just do it! I'll be able to save her with these powers.

Rex already had some servant abilities, with a small amount of authority from Quetz and the leftover spirit from Cipatli. But they weren't much, with this he hoped to complete it to make a proper spirit origin, or something akin to one.

Mash: senpai... is this really a good idea?

Rex: I Need to save her... I hate being without her... and I want to skewer the fools who took her away...

Murasaki: I can see the pain he's feeling... we should help...

Anderson: fine, we'll turn you into an alien monster. But it likely won't stick when this singularity's fixed.

Rex: so long as I get my wife back I'm fine with it.

The three authors put to use their abilities to infuse Rex with the alien symbiote. Slowly an ooze formed onto his body, colored dark blue, black and red. Then his body was complete engulfed in the slime. It formed something akin to a tight fitting costume with a mask not far off from a lucha mask.

Rex: ...feels weird...

Mash: at least it looks to have worked... what can you do?

First Rex changed his hand to form a large blade.

Rex: that... I can slice a bitch.

After changing it back, he was then able to form flames from his hands, dark blue in color.

Rex: oh!

Anderson: how the hell?

Mash: he did have some of Quetzalcoatl's authority. Maybe it's been enhanced.

Rex: hahahaha! Now let's go! Where the hell could they have taken her!

Shakespeare: not exactly sure where they operate, but Columbus should now.

Rex: you think he'll be out there?

Murasaki: yes, him and his inquisition have been hunting us ever since they found out about us.

Anderson: as authors not aligned with Miguel we pose a great threat here.

Rex: yeah, I can tell why.

Then Rex's communicator started up.

Da Vinci: hello?! Is this thing working?

Rex: we hear ya!

Da Vinci: finally! How's everything?

Mash: not so great.

Da Vinci: what happened?

Rex: the enemy took Quetz!

Da Vinci: what!? And what's with the getup? And why do you have an avenger class spirit origin?

Rex: long story, I'm a monster now. Going to save Quetz!

With that Rex leaps into the air to hunt down Columbus.

Da Vinci: Mash, can you explain?

Mash: somehow, fantasy can become reality and senpai used that to become a monster to save Quetzalcoatl. And he's currently hunting down Columbus for information.

Da Vinci: ah...

Mash: now I'll go catch up with him!

Mash runs off to follow Rex, seemingly forgetting the authors.

Anderson: well... should we leave them to it?

Murasaki: we really should follow, to help make things go smoothly.

Shakespeare: and I can't miss out on the story this will be.

Anderson: *sigh* ok then

Off with Rex he's found the Santa Maria and immediately rushes to fight the captain, leaping into the air with hand blades to kill the captain.

Rex: COLUMBUS!!!

Columbus: what the-? Is that the master of Chaldea?

Seeing the threat Rex was posing Columbus prepared to unleash his noble phantasm but before he could Rex manages to slice at him, injuring him severely.

Columbus: fuck!

The captain falls over, already too weakened to fight much.

Rex: Where is She?! Where'd you take her!?

Columbus: how'd you get so strong?

Rex: Tell Me!

Columbus: you're not getting any info from me...

Rex: we'll see about that

Rex grabs the captain by the arm and slowly stabs into his side, with the shape-shifted blade burning with divine fire.

Columbus, in pain: Aaahhh!

Rex: tell me what I need to know.

Columbus: aaahh! Fine! She's at the capital building!

Rex drops the fool, satisfied by the info. Finally Mash comes in, having caught up with Rex.

Mash: senpai! Did you find out where Quetzalcoatl is?

Rex: the capital building!

Mash: great!

As they finish Columbus starts to fade, tho now looking more like the one we're all familiar with.

Rex leaps off the boat and joins Mash as the boat fades along with it's master.

Mash: we're likely to run into Don Quixote there

Rex: doesn't matter.

The two leave towards the capital building. Having to fight off inquisition soldiers who got in their way. Eventually they find the capital building, a knight clad in sparkling armor with a strong looking horse stands guard.

Rex: that's him isn't it?

Mash: more then likely

Quixote: ho! You two! What brings you here?

Rex: I'm here to get my wife back!

Quixote: ah! You're the man I was told about! You look far more monstrous then I thought.

Rex: good! Now prepare to die!

Immediately the two clash, Rex's blades against Quixote's spear.

Mash attempts to help but is quickly surrounded by more inquisitors, having to fight them off before helping.

*slash*

Quixote: quite an interesting power you've got there! But you'll fall regardless monster!

Rex: Shut Up! I'll kill you! And then I'll get my wife back!

The two clash even more, Rex also having to fight off soldiers at the same time. Eventually another man comes out of the building.

???: Don! What goes on?

Quixote: the enemy master has come my lord!

Miguel: oh! He's come to save that goddess has he?

Rex: give her back!

Rex says this as he continues to clash with the knight.

Miguel: unfortunately I cannot, my master has requested her capture and I must follow his orders!

Rex: Fuck You!

Quixote: how vulgar!

Then, just as before the snow intensified, blinding the enemies.

Miguel: of all the times for this to ha- urk!

The spanish author feels a sharp pain in his chest, he looks in front of him and beyond the falling snow he sees the pissed off Rex.

Rex: I. Said. Give. Her. Back!

Rex then slices straight up, cutting the author in half.

The snow was still intense and the knight was now clashing with Mash, unaware of his master's death but also unaffected by it.

Rex runs into the capital building, the slimy symbiote receding into him to appear normal still. He then finds Quetzalcoatl inside a box similar to the coffins used for rayshifting.

Rex: mi corazon!

He goes over and busts it open and picks her up out of it.

Rex: are you ok?

She's only semi-conscious and isn't able to say much

Quetz: mi amor...?

Rex: I'm here! You're safe!

Outside Mash continues to fight Quixote, in the clash she manages to break his spear.

Mash: yes!

Now the spear appears far more old and damaged then it did before she damaged it. Quixote looks at it, and seems distraught.

Quixote: it's a lie... isn't it?

Mash: huh?

Quixote: it's all just a story... chivalry... it's all a lie...

Out of nowhere Quixote's armor becomes old and worn, his horse weak and also old. Then the snow stops entirely.

Mash: what happened?

???: you broke his trance.

Mash looks over and sees Shakespeare and the others.

Anderson: with Miguel dead, he was weakened and him seeing his spear I'm it's tru form broke his delusions. Now the fantasies are fading.

Mash: so it's over?

Murasaki: looks like it

Don Quixote then fades away himself. Then Rex is seen coming out of the building carrying Quetz.

Mash: Senpai! Is she ok?!

Rex: she'll be fine. Just need to get back.

Da Vinci: so you saved her? That's great to hear! Now let's get you two back before the singularity fades.

Rex: but who the hell was their master?

Da Vinci: not here, so we'll handle it when we get there.

Rayshifting in 3...2...1!

A/N: there's the story I've been planning for a bit. There's going to be a small epilog soon enough but for now there's that.

Tags

@hasishtardoneanythingwrong @hasereshdoneanythingwrong @haspaulbunyandoneanythingwrong @hasbbdoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong @hasabbydoneanythingwrong @renmeo @kazmetic @grievouslyxorvia @valiantstrawberrymilk

#fate grand order #quetzalcoatl #wife #rexcoatl #rex #mastersona #mash kyrielight #william shakespeare #murasaki shikibu #hans christian andersen #christopher columbus #don quixote #miguel de cervantes #leonardo da vinci

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drethanramslay · 4 years

Text

Voicemails (part 1)

Pairing: Ethan x mc

Word count: 5.5 K words (damn that's the most I have written

Masterlist

Warning: ANGST

Taglist: @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @junggoku @ethandaddyramsey @edith-eggs1 @ethanramseysgirl @samihatuli @loveellamae @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @zeniamiii @binny1985 @an-urban-witch-ig @ramseyegerton @noboundariesplease @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey @newcolonies @theodorepjames4 @unluckygs @choices-love-affair @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @ohramsey @virtualrain202 @squishywizardhq @junehiratas @lilyvalentine @nooruleman @itsgoingnuts @cordonianbleu @agent-breakdance @jamespotterthefirst @choicesfanaf @temptress-of-death-and-desire @ac27dj @rookiefromedenbrook @gaiusimp @theeccentricbibliophile @oofchoices @hatescapsicum @sanchita012 @edgiestwinter (if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know ☺️)

Author's note: Well I know I said I was going on semi hiatus but, my studies are going great so I decided to post 🤪 also, shout out to @kittykatchoices for helping me in bouncing ideas( she is amazing)

also I went full out and posted screenshots and dividers sike

Songs: Callin by Alec Bailey is my main muse but I made a playlist too

Forgive me if there are any errors

Day 1

Ethan was jolted awake from his slumber as the flight touched down. It continued to speed down the runaway when it eventually reduced to a slow crawl and he saw the glass facade of the airport, glinting in the afternoon sun.

AEROPORTO INTERNACIONAL DE MANAUS EDUARDO GOMES. The banner read and Ethan let the reality sink in that he actually was in the state of Amazonas, South America.

"Welcome to Manaus International Airport. The weather here is partly sunny with 98% chance of precipitation. The temperature is..."

Ethan zoned out. His back was killing him and the need to stretch was becoming unbearable. Even though the WHO team of doctors had settled in comfortably in the plush seats of the private jet, it was a very boring flight.

There is a certain restrictions to the number of boring and wasteful romantic comedies you could watch in a 40 hour flight.

They did have 2 stops for refueling but they weren't allowed to step out of the plane.

God I want to go on a run so bad. He thought mentally as he massaged his spasming neck.

The doctors kicked back and relaxed, ocassionally discussing the cholera epidemic break out in Tefé, a small city on the riverside. It was very productive and they did manage to make a dent in the treatment plan but, when everybody was asleep and it was just him and his thoughts.

And his thoughts mostly revolved around the reason why he volunteered to join these prestigious doctors to battle the epidemic.

It wasn't out of selflessness, or the need to save humanity or for some mindless award.

It was an opportunity.

An opportunity to run from the girl who has invaded his head and heart, and resided there.

Leah.

You are doing this for her own good. You are doing this for her professional development. You are doing this for her success. Feelings are fleeting, they will fade away. Ethan repeated those sentences like mantra, trying to ingrain it in his mind that he was doing the right thing leaving her behind.

No call, no text. A clean break.

But no matter how much you lie to your brain, you can't lie to your heart.

Ethan you know you are running away from her because she confessed that she loved you, stop lying to yourself. The snarky inside voice spoke up.

But, if he paid attention to it closely, it sounded just like Leah, calling him out in his bullshit.

He shook his head, trying to erase all the thoughts in his head as the aero-bridge connected to the door and they were opened. Standing up, he stretched his sore muscles and took out his duffle bag.

When he reached the exit, the air hostess with a face caked with makeup, gave him a polite smile. "Hope you had a pleasant flight doctor."

Pleasant my ass...

As he walked through the corridors towards the baggage claim area, he switched on his phone.

As he stood there waiting, he saw an influx of messages from Naveen and his dad.

But that was not what caught his eye.

Leah🌞

(3) missed calls (1) voicemail -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was midnight here and around 1 am in Boston.

Ethan walked out of the bathroom, exhausted to the bone. It had been a long day for him. The moment they had landed they had been rushed to Tefé, where they dived straight into work. The hospital was already flooding and there was so much pain and suffering all around.

Ethan has the emotions of a block of granite but, seeing so much misery and sadness, made his energies drop low.

And it did not help that the pocket in which his phone was kept, was weighing him down.

(1) voicemail from Leah🌞.

He wanted to delete it immediately but every time his finger hovered above the delete button, he just could not. So, he let it lay there in his inbox as a heavy reminder.

The moment Ethan's back hit the mattress a huge sigh of relief escaped his lips. He was weary and his body ached.

But, sleep didn't come to him.

He just lay there staring at the ceiling, seeing the different shadows casted by the moonlight. He saw the shadows of the trees swaying and the reflection of the Amazon.

His eyes landed on his phone on the bedside table and he stared at it for a long time, contemplating if listening to the voicemail was worth it or not.

You don't have to respond...

But, then my resolve will weaken...

His logic and conscience went back and forth but there wasn't any clear winner.

If this is what having feelings for someone is like, I don't want it...

But, you would take a 100 leap of faiths for Leah, won't you?

"ARGH!" Ethan threw the comforter off and got up. He started pacing around the room, trying to work off his restlessness. He walked around the room, his eyes trained on the phone as if it was a bomb. He clenched his jaw and tried to not let one insignificant notification affect him, but it was getting harder with every passing minute.

"Ah fuck it." Ethan said as he picked up the phone to listen to the voicemail. Leah's uncertain and raw voice flooded which forced him to lie down because of the emotions which bubbled to the surface.

"Umm.. hey Ethan, Leah here. I..uh heard that you went to the Amazon to fight the cholera epidemic from Naveen today... And I am proud of you but, I know that is not the reason why you ran, is it?

It's because I said 'I love you' three days ago, isn't it?"

Leah's voice cracked as she took a deep breath, before continuing.

"Are those three words that scary?

I had prepared myself that you would ignore my very existence and shut out all the feelings and that would have been painful but bearable, but... You literally ran to another fucking continent?!"

She bitterly chuckled and Ethan's heart squeezed.

"I don't even know what to do at this point. Don't they say that you should confess your feelings the moment you realize them, otherwise you will regret it? But... I can't help but feel regret... Why do I even try? I should have just shut the fuck up and get on with my day but NO! I had to open my mouth and here I am here talking to your answering machine.

I just can't help but feel that I let you slip away from me...

Anyways, it's okay.. I will wait. I promised you I would always wait.

Just...come back to me..okay? Bye."

The phone beeped, signalling the end of the voicemail. Ethan lowered his hand to stare at his phone's screen.

"I love you Ethan. And it's okay if you don't say it back. I know you need time and I will be here waiting for you..."

That's what she had said three days ago. And as much as they lifted him, it pained him. He was confused and just couldn't think straight. He needed some space.

But, he could feel his resolution weakening. The itch to dial that number and talk to her was irresistible.

You made a promise to yourself Ethan. You can't go back on that now.

He let out a deep sigh and ran his hand through his brown locks. His eyes landed on the table on which there was the complementary stationary provided by the b&b. An idea slowly bloomed in his head and he nodded to himself.

Sure I can't call her. But atleast I can write down my reply so that it won't keep on being a burden on my shoulder.

With that being said, Ethan sat down on the desk and poured his heart out on the loose sheets of papers.

DAY 10

For the next ten days, Ethan would keep an eye on the phone for any notification.

And by any notification, it meant a voicemail or a message from that one particular woman who had him in the palm of her hand.

He would get excited whenever his phone would ping but, his hopes would immediately crash when it would just be a message from the telecom company telling him about his telephone bill.

After he got his seventh 'Bem-vindo à Amazônia'(welcome to the Amazons,) he just let out a sigh of disappointment and turned his phone off and got on with his day.

I am such a moron... Look at where the mighty have fallen. The person who hated texting looks forward to a text. Ethan chastised himself as he entered the local hospital for a busy day.

Around noon when he headed to the cafeteria down the street, he turned his phone on to find a notification that made his heart beat faster.

(1) voicemail from Leah🌞

He pressed the button and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hey Ethan, just wanted to update you on the hospital and your patients. Everything is running smoothly and all your patients are alive. Chief Naveen and someone named Dr. Hirata are managing them. Mrs. Rodriguez went home today and she left you some cookies which I may or may not have stolen because well... they might catch fungi and that's sure would be a tragedy. Also, you don't even like anything sweet and would have given it to me anyways."

Ethan could imagine her shrugging as she stuffed her face with a cookie. That mental image was way too cute and Ethan couldn't help but melt a little. He sat down on his designated seat in the cafeteria and Leah continued.

"Also, Mr. Agarwal from room 456 was taken in by Harper for emergency brain surgery. He had an aneurysm and is in recovery. So far, he is showing great scope of a full recovery.

In short, everything is fine and smoothly running in your absence.

To be honest, I don't miss you that much. It just feel like a normal day when you are in one side of the hospital and I am in the opposite side. But... When I cross your office before clocking out, instead of seeing you working on your desk or lounging on the couch in your office, I just see emptiness.

And then that reminds me of the emptiness in my chest... But fuck that, who cares?!

Seriously, I don't miss you at all. But... That doesn't mean it's an invitation to stay in the Amazons indefinitely.

I would very much like it if you come back to me...okay? Bye."

A grin decorated his face and it made him so happy that his cheekbones were hurting. He shook his head as he put his phone down on the wooden table.

I don't miss you at all...

Who are you trying to convince sunshine?

Those words may be biting but he also knew his sunshine pretty well. He knew that she also missed him the way he did but, both of them were stubborn and had their heads all the way up their asses.

Neither of them were going to cave in and confess.

It's a tiring game and Ethan often wondered how long is he going to last.

So with his head full of thoughts, he took out the hotel stationary and began writing his response.

DAY 19

"Put the patients in bed number 4 and 25 in the recovery ward and ask if they are willing to provide blood for plasma therapy. Bed number 20 is going downhill so increase the dosage of the narrow spectrum antibiotics from 100mg to 250 mg every two hours. And..."

Ethan turned around and let his eyes run over the different patients. He was covered from head to toe in scrubs and goggles donned his face. The mask muffled his speech.

"Bed number 40 should move to another ward because it isn't too severe in her case. And can you update me on the patients in the gymnasium?" Ethan asked as he looked up from the clipboard.

"Most of them are infected sir. We have been segregating them from the healthy ones. We made the banquet hall the centre of testing and if anyone tests positive we are either sending that person to the hospital or to the gym. We have even initiated lockdown to prevent the spread of the disease." The doctor spoke with a heavy Portuguese accent.

"Good. Keep me informed about the patients in bed 12, 39, and 26 throughout the night."

"Yes Dr. Ramsey. Boa noite!"

"Good night."

Ethan walked out of the isolation ward and headed into the locker room where he could sterilize himself. Getting out of the numerous layers of scrubs was a task in itself and he felt so suffocated in them.

As he pealed out the layers off his sweaty body and removed the mask he stepped into the shower cubicle and turned the tap on.

He sighed in relief as the cold water washed over him, washing away the day's dirt, grime and sadness. Working in the isolation ward was never easy. It was always filled with fear and despair. Ethan would try his best to make them comfortable but, he never had a knack of people's skills.

If Leah was here she would have them laughing in no time. The thought rushed through his mind.

Leah.

Ethan was missing her terribly. The first few days were easy to handle the absence but now? Good lord, he craved her.

She was his sunshine and she always knew how to lift his spirits up when he had a rough day be it by cracking awful dad jokes, her infamous puns or her just being around him.

He missed those hazel eyes which would fill up with concern the moment she noticed his discomfort. He missed the way she would reach out for his hand and squeeze it twice when they were in broad daylight. He missed the way she would wrap her arms around his waist and lean her head against his chest when it was just them.

He stepped out of the cubicle, water dripping down his toned abs. He slipped on a fresh pair of jeans and a plain tshirt. He was about to pick up his messenger bag when he saw the screen of his phone light up with a notification.

Leah🌞

(1) missed call (1) voicemail

Ethan gave a small smile before pressing the button to hear the message.

"So apparently now I am Jenner's emergency contact, huh?"

Amusement laced her voice and Ethan groaned, hiding his face with hand. He hoped that Leah would never have to know but now the secret is out and all he wanted to do was curl up and hide.

She chuckled before continuing. "Don't be embarassed Ethan. I think that it is cute and I am so glad that you can trust me with your girl. Look at you, growing up and trusting people."

Ethan chuckled and Leah's tinkling laugh joined his.

"Basically, Jenner's dog sitter had to go out on an emergency so she called me to go to your apartment and feed her. Not going to lie but... I am scared."

She sighed before continuing.

"It's just that once I cross the threshold and see the cold empty penthouse shrouded in darkness... It would confirm that you are actually gone and that I can not continue living in the state of denial.

So, if you are getting calls from your neighbours that there is a hobo muttering to herself and pacing in front of your door, that's me."

Nervous laughter resounded on the line followed by another sigh.

"...you know what, fuck it. It's just a door."

Jingling of keys was heard on the line and it was shortly followed by excited barks.

"Oomph!" Leah was cut off by Jenner tackling her. A crash was heard, which might probably be the phone falling down on the ground.

Ethan smiled. He liked seeing his girls interacting.

Leah's coos were heard along with barks and whines from Jenner. Leah's voice sounded faraway as she spoke to Jenner in a baby voice.

"Oh girl... Don't be sad. I know he hurt you by leaving you here all alone. But you are not alone. Well, he hurt me too. So, don't worry we are on the same boat girl."

Those words were like a sucker punch in the gut and Ethan could not help but sit down on the bench as an after effect.

Don't worry... He hurt me too... Those words continue to echo through his head. He knew that Leah didn't say those words intentionally but, it just made him realise just how much of a facade she had put up, to hide her pain.

God, sunshine...

Leah's voice continued. "Well Jenner misses you too. We are okay, aren't we?" An excited bark sounded throught the phone and Leah chuckled.

"Sorry to disturb you. Go back to do your job of saving lives. You are doing a service to humanity Ethan, and I am super proud. You are so brave."

There was a pause before Leah blurted out.

"I- I miss you Ethan. A lot. And it hurts not seeing you here. But don't worry about me, I am a strong cookie and I will stay strong... For you. I just have one request though..

Come back to me soon...okay? Bye."

You have reached the end of the voicemail. If you want to hear agai-

Ethan immediately pressed the button and he heard her voice through the speaker of his phone. As she spoke, Ethan hauled a taxi to take him to his b&b.

You are doing a service to humanity... You are so brave..

Oh sunshine, if only you knew... it wasn't bravery.

I miss you a lot...

I miss you too sunshine...

Ethan sat and stared out of the window of his cab, a turmoil of emotions just running wildly in him as the words of the woman he loved, ran in his mind.

DAY 28

It was 12 am in Tefé and Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone's screen with narrowed gaze.

C'mon Ethan, don't be a pussy. It's just a message.

And that one message will be the breaking point for all of my will power and resolve. Might as well catch a flight home and personally wish her.

You are blowing things out of proportion... His inner voice reasoned.

"Shut the fuck up." Ethan exhaled, clenching his jaw, the muscle ticking as his eyes again landed on the blinking cursor, mocking him.

It was the 29th of April.

His sunshine's birthday.

And Ethan sat, twiddling his thumbs, contemplating what to type and send.

His thoughts went to last year when they were so at ease and could stay up and talk for hours but now, here he was, not able to formulate a single text message for the girl he had feelings for.

What have we come to?

Ethan couldn't help but feel guilty all of a sudden. Doubt clouded his mind and he wondered if running to the Amazon was really a good idea or not.

I needed space to think and figure out this 'love' thing... Right?

Shaking his head, he cleared all those lingering doubts and looked down at his phone again and wrote what came to his mind.

When did the great Ethan Ramsey get so cheesy? His inner voice snickered.

As he continued to read and re-read the message again and again, he started hating what he wrote.

"This is utter garbage. Who in their right mind uses emojis? Fuck this." Ethan muttered as he erased the entire message. He locked his phone and placed it on the bedside table before getting comfortable in the sheets and slipping into a deep slumber.

11:57 am Ethan had finished his rounds and was just taking a five minute break before he headed into the conference room where the team of doctors would discuss their approach.

The condition did improve a bit here on Tefé, but it was a massive outbreak and things were getting harder to control. It was a stress fest 24/7 and Ethan could feel his brown locks greying by the second.

In this five minute break, instead of grabbing something to eat and regroup his thoughts, he stood in the hallway, looking down at his phone. He had typed another message with lesser mixed signals.

Well... This sounds robotic... No wonder Leah called me Dr. Terminator the first time. Ethan snorted as he shook his head, disappointed.

He was about to type more when he heard his name being called by one of his colleagues.

"Dr. Ramsey, we are good to go."

Ethan looked up and curtly nodded. "Yes, I'm coming." He locked his phone and slipped into the pocket of his denim jeans, diving into work again.

7:16 pm Ethan was sat down on the bench outside the hospital and let out a breath of relief. He had been on his feet since the last 5 hours, running between the gymnasium, the hospital and the banquet hall.

The mask and goggles he had worn, had left bruises on his face and he just needed a fresh breath of air. Ethan took big gulps of the humid air which had hints of rain.

The thing about Tefé was that it rained everyday, without doubt. He enjoyed the rain but hated the humidity which was an inconvenient side effect. Though it was relatively cool at night, Ethan's shirt stuck to his chiseled body due to the excessive sweat.

Ethan took his phone out of the pocket and opened the messaging app again. "Short and sweet is better." Ethan mumbled as he started typing again.

He was half way through the message when his phone died due to the low battery. Ethan just looked up at the sky with defeat.

Was this the time to come at me karma?

He was about to head to the locker room to put his phone on charging when he heard panicked voices calling him. "Dr. Ramsey!"

"Yes?" He got up and started jogging to the entrance.

"Five patients in isolation ward CC-23 are deteriorating and they need help ASAP. We are short-handed and-"

"Say no more. We have lives to save."

12:00 am It was a stressful evening to say the least.

The patients kept on flat lining and Ethan and the staff tried bringing them back to life by injecting them with adrenaline. After a giving quite a few scares, they were finally stable and moved to the ICU.

Ethan dropped his duffle bag on to the sofa in his b&b and stretched his arms above his head, cracking his neck to release the tension in his shoulders. He fished his phone out of his pocket and immediately connected it to the charging port.

His screen lit up after sometime and he saw a notification which made his heart sink.

Leah🌞 (1) voicemail

I could not wish her...

Ethan opened his notifications and pressed on the voicemail she left, preparing himself to face the music.

"Uh..hi Ethan. I hope things are going as smooth as they can over there. I have been reading the news and keeping up with the situation there. I ain't worried about that because well... You are Ethan freaking Ramsey, the best diagnostician of your generation!"

Nervous laughter flitted through the phone speaker before it turned into a sigh.

"I know you are busy with the epidemic and all but... You missed my birthday. And- and I don't want to sound like those middle school teenager crying over an unwished birthday but... It hurts when the love of your life doesn't do it.

I have been trying to reason with myself that you could have forgotten but, I know you. I know that you never forget... And I didn't expect an elaborate gesture or anything! Even a small 'happy birthday Leah' message could have made my day... And I know you are caught up in your work but... How long does it take to type three words?"

Leah's voice cracked and Ethan felt regret gripping at his throat.

"Ethan- I am running out of reasons to convince myself. I am running out of those optimistic reinforcing shit. I am running out of the the number of benefits of doubts to give you. I am running out of faith that you feel the same way as me.

The longer I am spending time without any communication from you, the more I am loosing myself into the vicious cycle of doubt and self loathing.

I am angry at you and I hate you so much right now. I want to burn down your sweater in my closet and throw away the sun pendant you gave me. Just forget that you existed and go back to being the old happy me."

Ethan gasped, feeling breathless all of a sudden. The heavy burden of her pain and his self loathing was crushing his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

In a soft, broken voice Leah spoke.

"But I won't. I don't have the strength to yank the necklace off me. Even though it burns me and is a reminder of the person who left me, I still wear it. Even though your name hurts me, I still want to hear it...

...I love you Ethan, so damn much that it hurts me. I need you Ethan, I really do and I know it's selfish of me but...

Just come back to me... Please. Bye."

Ethan leaned his elbows on his knees and let out a breath which rattled through his body. He put his head in his hands and let out another breath, trying to breathe through the heart shattering pain.

I am so sorry sunshine...

So fucking sorry...

DAY 36

It had been eight days since the last voicemail and Ethan had been tormented, swimming in gut wrenching guilt.

Most of the times he found himself reaching for the phone to call her, but he would just clench his fist and resume his work. All the words left unsaid, he would just pour it out on to the loose sheets of paper. That was the only thing that prevented him from slipping into insanity.

He was never one to understand the sentimental reason behind having a diary or journal. From a scientific perspective, he knew that it has long lasting effects in mental health and helps get rid of the anxiety.

But now, whenever he felt like he was going to get crushed under the guilt, he often found himself writing.

If he wasn't writing, he would be working. He started staying at the hospital longer and worked for longer hours so that he could tire himself out. That way, when he went to sleep, he would immediately fall asleep.

But still, no matter how much he tried, his thoughts would always go back to her.

Funny how one person could make or break your life.

It was 4:45 am and Ethan was in the lab, checking in on the newest vaccine that they had worked on. The doctors had been utilising the plasma of the recovered patients to formulate vaccines using the antibodies created in defense. And so far, it had been helping them. They were already vaccinating the asymptomatic people and it made a huge impact.

But still, there was a long way to go.

"Dr. Ramsey, why are you still here?" Dr. Batra, a 50 year old woman from India asked, her voice laced with inquisitiveness.

"Just working on the vaccine strains, Dr. Batra."

"You and I both know that those strains are highly effective." She said as she leaned against the door frame.

"Never hurt to be perfect." He shrugged as he leaned back from the microscope.

"But it does hurt when you over work yourself."

Ethan sighed as he took his glasses off. He rubbed his face.

"How long have you been awake Ethan?" Dr. Batra asked, the maternal concern evident in her tone.

Silence.

"Ethan..." She gave him a stern look.

"Yeah, yeah I will go now. After some ti-"

"You do know that avoiding your problems won't make them go away, right?"

Ethan's eyes snapped to her and immediately looked away not able to hold her gaze. She reminded him of Naveen and how he could never hide anything for him.

I wonder how he is doing...

"But I am delaying the inevitable, as most doctors must do."

"Ethan... I have known you for a very short duration but, I know for a fact that you are not a man who gives excuses."

Ethan sighed. "It's complicated."

"As must all the things in this universe."

"It's just... There is this girl, and she confessed her feelings for me. And the intensity of the feelings scared me. So here I am, taking a break. But... There is this small pain in my chest whenever I think about her. She fills me up with euphoria but can also break me down. When I reflect back on all the happy moments, I get light headed, as if I am on drugs. That is why I am here, to analyse and figure out my feelings whilst helping with the epidemic."

"Well... I think you know the answer but, you are just living in a state of denial."

Ethan sighed as he looked down at his hands. "Don't I know that?"

"Well, if you know the answer then what's stopping you?"

"I-" they were interrupted by the shrill ring of Ethan's phone. He saw the name 'Leah🌞' and pressed the silent button immediately.

"You won't take that?" she asked eyeing the phone.

"I don't think I am strong enough to do that."

"Love is for the brave Ethan. Remember that." She got up and patted his shoulder before stepping out. The sun rays filtered through the gigantic windows of the lab, slowly illuminating the clinical set up with its golden rays. Ethan picked up the phone and saw that Leah had left another voicemail.

Picking up the phone, he stood in front of the window, letting the warmth of the sun wash over him. Be brought the phone to his ear and he heard her.

"Hey. Its 6 am here and I was bored so I decided to call you. Or leave a voicemail because you never pick up my call. I was just feeling lonely so here I am! Kinda ironic but meh.”

Ethan could hear her shrug though the phone.

“I have been taking double shifts all week and it's been so productive. The cool cases I have done and solved, the lives I have saved... they have been giving me my quota of serotonin.

Literally nothing interests or makes me happy now. So my job is the only thing which I look forward to. The things I used to enjoy doing, seems like a chore.

Everything seems like a chore.

Sleeping, eating, breathing, everything seems like an exhausting task. I don't even like sleeping anymore. Because whenever I sleep I dream fo you and when I dream of you, it's like I am being stabbed in the heart.

I don't even want to go home, because whenever I am home, I see your sweater and then my mind goes back to the numerous night outs we had, working on our cases.

The hospital is okay but, every corner I turn I think I see you which, I am going to blame on my sleep deprivation. Don't worry, I am not going into self destruct mode. I still force myself to eat three square meals a day and I get around 4 hours of sleep for every 48 hours I am awake.

So it's okay... I am okay.

I maybe a ticking time bomb BUT, I am not a working hazard. I am alert at all times and all my patients are in tip top condition. I think I should give credit to the two energy drinks I downed along with a cup of coffee.

Don't worry, my heartbeat is under the safe limit of 180 BPM.

In short, don't worry. I am golden.

I hope you are taking care of yourself too! I just hope that you come back to me.

Bye. Love you."

"FUCK!" Ethan exclaimed as he threw he phone with a thud on the table. He placed his palms on the cool granite countertop, breathing heavily.

Shit, shit, shit.

He started pacing in the lab, playing with his beard, his mind racing with worry and concern.

This was not supposed to happen.

Ethan stood and gripped the counter again closing his eyes, trying to centre his breathing but it was futile.

I need to do something, anything! His conscience egged him.

He opened his eyes and it landed on his phone.

Well, I guess it's time to make a call.

well, I hope you guys liked it!

do you think Ethan finally caved in and called her?

like, comment, reblog and let me know what do you think :))

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spartanxhunterx · 4 years

Text

So late the party has left.

Ok, I've had this submission from @starmage2 for ever and just got around to it now.

As a heads up I've changed the 'Alien invasion ' to Gorilla Grodd invasion instead. Same general thing though.

Paris was not a place the flash visited often or even with purpose. A city of calm and peace that was unaffected by the world's crazies, maniacs and supervillians. There has never been a reason to be in Paris, for anyone from the league. Aside from maybe taking a superspeed shortcut or flying well above the city to make time to ones real destination.

But now Flash, or Barry Allen to those close to him, feared that the millennia long peace was going to be broken. News had spread that Gorilla Grodd, One of Flash's Rivals, had snuck his way to Paris, France, with plans to use De-evolution devices to regress the human population for his own uses.

That was Not something the justice league was going to ignore, it would be like ignoring an upstart villain or a call for aid. Such things were not taken lightly.

he had long since past Paris' border and was making his way to the Eiffel tower, Where the rest of the Justice league members that were joining him would be meeting up with him. It was considered the most neutral and hidden spot in Paris after dark.

Still, he indulged himself by taking the long scenic route, confident that he would beat everyone there. Except for maybe superman but who cares about that?

So it was a huge surprise, when passing the Louvre, that a large portal opened in front of him and before he could redirect himself he was already through to the other side, his feet skid against the oiled floor as he tumbled into a pre-placed net. The trap triggered and the next thing he knew he was tied up and dangling a foot off the floor.

Ignoring the oncoming footsteps he tried twisting his limbs, if he could move just the slightest amount he could friction burn the ropes around him to free him. It wasn't until he felt something pointy touch his chest and a hand guide his chin that he looked at the perpetrators. There were three, one female, two males.

one guy looked like he was dressed up as a monkey with a Bo Staff, the girl like a bee and the other guy... Well he wasn't sure up he was going to guess a horse due to the horseshoe they had.

"Watch it speedy." The girl talked, a hint of smug laced in her voice. "Try to vibrate your way out of that and I'll stick you to the spot."

" do you have any idea who I am? What kind of trouble you'll be in for doing this? " Cause he knew the rest of the team would be suspicious if he wasn't at least the second person there, these three were playing a dangerous game and he wasn't in the mood to deal with more wannabe villains.

"The Flash," the horse? Started , gesturing to his tied up self. "Fastest man alive, scarlet speedster, defender of Central City. And if my suspicions are correct, Barry Allen. "

flash sputtered slightly, voice cracking with his next words. "W-What, No!"

" Ha! Instant denial! " The monkey exclaimed as he pointed to him before clapping the other guy on the shoulder. " You got it right on the head Pegasus."

OK, Pegasus, one name down. "So, you the ring leader here?" He turned to him and Barry realised he couldn't make out his expression due to his dark glasses, who wears sunglasses at night?

"No. I'm more of the... Tactical analysis type. Information provider and long term planner." He pointed to the other two. " My cohorts here are Abeille and roi singe. "

"The more important thing here, is why is the justice league here in Paris when you've been banned from entering."

" What! When did this happen!? "

"Six years ago."

Flash stared dumbfounded at the three, all attempts to escape forgotten. The JL was banned from Paris? And had been for six years? "Why?"

" Oh please. " Abeille scoffed as she picked up her discarded coffee drink, taking a slow sip to force tension to grow. "Don't act like you don't know why, you're fully aware and if not?... Ask Green lantern."

Roi singe's Bo Staff let out a chime and he slid open the panel to reveal the communicator. "Anything on your end yet?" The voice on the other end was feminine, the three Parisian heroes easily recognized Ladybugs voice.

" Yeah actually, managed to bag the Flash, trap worked like a Charm. "

"The Flash? Interesting. See what he knows, we've got reports of odd noises coming from an old abandoned warehouse. Me, Viper And Ry are gonna check it out, Chats on the way to you and so are some local Officers, let them deal with the Flash. "

"So, what are you doing here Speedy wonder?" Pegasus smacked Roi on the chest before turning his critical gaze to the tied up hero.

"What he means is, why are you hear and who else should we expect, I doubt you came to Paris for a holiday. You shouldn't have been caught by this trap, you react too fast, you were occupied with something."

" The JL had received reports that Grodd, Gorilla Grodd, has made his way to Paris. Nothing good had ever come from him being anywhere near humans so we sent a team to deal with it before too much damage can arise. "

The three of them looked at each other skeptically, since when did the JL care about collateral damage?

"Ok, meet up point, now."

" You think I'm gonna tell that to a bunch of upstart villains? "

There was a moment of silence before the three of them burst out laughing, Roi had to prop himself up by his staff while Abeille almost doubled over. When she was done she splashed the remains of her, now cold, coffee over the heroes face.

"Villains? Really?" She sneared pulling the heroes face closer to hers. "We are the heroes of Paris, Defenders of France, part of the Miracle team. If you ever get the chance, ask Diana what a Miraculous is... And she will know, any statement to the contradictory is a lie."

"Now, meet up location?"

" Eiffel tower. "

" Who will be there? "

"Batman, Superman, Wonder woman, Green lantern And Robin."

"Good. Officer Cuff him and give him a cell." Unknown to The Flash several officers had arrived, they quickly slapped on some anti-meta handcuffs before removing him from the net , shoving the 'hero ' into the police car before driving away.

"Chat's on his way to the tower, let's give him some back up."

It was twenty minutes later, the use of two vemons, one uproar and the combined might of Pegasus, Abeille, Roi singe, Chat Noir and Carapace to subdue the heroes who had been waiting for the Flash.

Not that the flight was difficult, not while Green lanterns ring was on the Fritz and couldn't form a single thing, Superman was Frozen in place, Along with Robin, Batman was being held in a restraint by Carapace and Diana had been given a fright by being teleported way above them for a few moments before she and Green lantern were tied up in Abeille's Wire.

it was a good thing the team was well within their mid twenties, had they been teens their miraculous would have run out by now. Instead they could cast their powers as much as they wished while only gaining some exhaustion if they went too far. Without the fear of de-transforming.

"Well... That was easy." Roi Singe leaned against the frozen Form of Robin, not bothered by the fact that the violent vigilant was frozen mid-strike.

"I don't think..." Carapace grunted as he tightened his grip to Batmans arms , keeping a hold above his elbows so he could keep the man's arms behind his back. "Getting the drop on unsuspecting people AND freezing their power player," his head jutted to superman, where Chat Noir was happily sitting on his shoulders as he played with his tool. "Can be considered a fight, more like a slaughter really. "

"I agree." Abeille nodded as she tugged her two captives closer to her, without missing a beat she sat on the Amazonian's back before propping her feet up on Green lanterns head. "So, greenie, recognise us?"

"Should I?" He tried to move his head from under the bee hero's foot but was quickly met with the heel of said foot impacting the back of his head. "Hey, what was that for!?"

" You really don't recognise me Hal Jordan? " Chat Noir growled out as he leaped off supermans shoulders before lifting the other others face with his baton.

Said hero stiffened at his name and the Cat Hero took it as his cue to continue. "The justice League receive, over a period of three years, a large amount of calls for aid from France, Paris specifically."

Both Batman and Wonder woman ceased their resistance as they heard this, why was this the first time they were hearing it?

"From two, young, barely teen, kids. Who had far too much responsibility thrusted onto them, who had to fight a maniac who mind controlled and powered up people who were experiencing negative emotion. "

"He targeted kids... A lot."

" What? " Despite their age and experience many of those present flinched at the harshness in Batmans voice, Pegasus turned to him, emotion hidden behind his darkened glasses.

"The butterfly Miraculous of Transmission is able to find people who experience strong emotion, be they negative or positive and empower them based on the current circumstances, like say... "

He paused as he tried to find a viable scenario to use.

"Ok, if you say someone falling from a tall tower and you really wanted to save them, a butterfly weilder could empower you and give you flight, either by giving you wings or... Making you like him." He pointed to superman.

"Hawkmoth, however, would wait until you had negative emotions, being dumped, bullied, fired so on and so forth normally caused these things and he would make it possible to get revenge, with the exception being that they HAD to get Ladybug And Chat Noirs miraculous to pay off the 'debt' they were in. "

"They never remembered the things they did, fortunately, can't say the same for those who died and came back to life though."

Those present Blinked, Batmans mouth opened and closed for a moment before his steely gaze landed on Hal.

"Paris once Flooded, an estimated 87% of Paris drowned that day... The other 13% wasn't purely kids."

"Hal."

" I didn't know ok! " Hal was recoiling from the glare that Batman was sending his way. "I thought it was a prank, ok! I didn't think it was real, how can you take two kids who dress up as a Ladybug And a Cat seriously?"

"You should have investigated, met up with them and assessed the situation First, not assumed."

" I know. " Hal's head hit the floor beneath him with a sigh. The Paris hero's looked at him like he was worth less then the dirt under their boots.

"If you help us tonight, we'll help you afterwards." The looks returned to Batman where after a moment a few of them scoffed.

"Hawkmoth's in jail dude." Carapace shook the vigilante's arms. "Has been for... Four years now, we've already reclaimed the lost Miraculi and the book, now we just deal with petty crime and... Well, your mess, it seems."

"Stick to punching Gotham's nutbags, we'll deal with Paris." No one objected to Chat's words, though Batman defiantly seemed to slump at them.

The cat hero shook his head at the older hero before his baton rang, his flipped it open and a moment afterwards Ladybugs voice came through, the Paris hero's were able to pick up on the urgency in her voice.

"Chat, I need you, Roi, Bee, Pegasus and Rena here now."

" on it, " He looked up as he closed his baton. "You heard her, let's go, Pegasus, get Rena, Carapace, keep an eye on these lot."

" got it dude. " He let go of Batmans arms as Abeille released both wonder woman and Green lantern from their bindings. Simultaneously both superman and Robin were released from the effects of venom as it was released. The other Paris heroes leapt away.

"So... Carapace right?" Diana extended her hand out to the turtle hero, who had leant against the railings with his arms crossed.

"I know who you are, and Tikki is not happy with you right now." She flinched at that. "For twelve years you ignored us, four years after we beat Hawkmoth do you finally show up and it's to deal with one of your own. I think I speak for all of Paris when I say, We don't want you here. "

"Since when do you have the authority to do that?" Both Robin and Carapace had a small stare off before Carapace rolled his eyes .

"Since France voted to ban all Non-miraculous heroes, which includes the justice League. You didn't care before, why care now?"

" is there anything that can be done? "

Carapace shook his head at superman. "You are far too late on that dude, there's being late to a party then there's turning up after the hosts have cleaned up. "

"You guys turned up for the party days after it was over, so save some face, wait for them to come back, get the Flash then leave. "

"The Flash is here?"

" Dudes spending his time in a cell tonight. "

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #ml x dc #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Carapace #rena rouge #Viperion #ryuko #Pegasus #roi singe #Batman #Robin #wonder woman #Superman #The Flash #Green Lantern #Justice league salt #gorilla grodd

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swiss-cheeze · 4 years

Text

(The Candyman Can) Rainbow Connection || Spencer Reid

Request: YES/NO // a part 2 was requested but I was going to do a part 2 anyway so, yeah. (@l0ve-0f-my-life)

Gender: none, they/them // I don’t believe there is any description, I tried to keep it nonchalant, the Sunflower song may be slightly suggestive because it’s sung by a female and have the aspects of femininity but overall is a non-gender affirming song.

Warnings: uhhh, slow burn, awkwardness? I honestly don’t know SEASON 8 SPOILERS, very long; seven pages on google doc lmao

Description: ten months after Maeves death you’re still singing for Spencer to help him cope, what happens when Garcia’s Dia De Muertos party brings to light your feelings?

Part 1: https://snitchthewitch.tumblr.com/post/621248749527760896/the-candyman-can-spencer-reid

Songs used:

It’s My Life - Bon Jovi

Hey There Delilah - Plain White T’s

Sunflower - Sierra Burgess

Rainbow Connection - The Muppets

———

Ten months.

It had been ten months since Maeve had left, ten months since a part of Spencer felt broken, crumpled and gone.

Ten months since you entered his life in a different way then he would ever think.

After your singing sessions things started to look better, brighter, lighter and happier.

Currently yourself and Spencer were jamming out in his apartment to It's My Life.

“It's my life! And it's now or never!” you screamed and jumped on the couch, Spencer followed you with a laugh and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“'Cause I ain't gonna live forever, I just want to live while I'm alive” Spencer sang, you grinned as you hoped down from the couch, grabbed his hands and started dancing.

“My heart is like an open highway, like Frankie said, ‘i did it my way’!” you grinned as Spencer spun you around and stepped onto the coffee table.

“I just want to live while I'm alive,” Spencer sang as you hopped up and onto the table next to the Doctor.

“ITS, MY, LIFE!” you exclaimed together and posed on the table as if there was a crowd gathered and you had just danced your hearts out; which you did. Your breathing was heavy as you let out a large laugh and jogged over to the CD player to turn it down as the next song came on from your playlist, going from a room shattering volume to a whisper.

“Drink?” Spencer asked with heavy breaths as he pointed to the kitchen, you nodded as you held your back and sat on the couch, Spencer came back a moment later with two glasses of water and handed one to you as you sat in the blissful aftermath of a singing and dance off.

“Are you going to Garcias Day of the Dead party?” you asked after a moment, it wasn't very risky to ask but it was still touchy as you both knew the background to the question. Spencer nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I am, I'm meant to be helping her with groceries sometime, she said she’d message me when she was ready” Spencer smiled as he placed the empty cup on the table and laid back against the couch cushions, “who are you bringing?” Spencer hesitantly asked as you grinned.

“I can't tell you that Spence, it's cheating” you shook your head before putting your cup down on the table and opening your phone to look at the time; you were meant to be home 10 minutes ago, “shit, sorry Spence i gotta head,” you said as you quickly gathered your belongings.

“Do you have to leave?” Spencer asked, he sounded so sad that you needed to leave, you bit your lip as you opened the door.

“I’m sorry Spence, i do, i've um…” should you tell him? “I've got a date,” you said with a tight lipped smile. Spencer hoped his face didn't convey the emotions he felt and hoped you didn't notice his change in demeanor.

“Oh, yeah of course,” Spencer said tightly, “you head ill...ill clean up here,”

“Thanks Spence, i'll see you at work!” you said with a grin and waved the Doctor a goodbye. The retreating of your footsteps seemed to echo in the surrounding walls of Spencer's apartment and his mind, your smile was flashing in his and out of his head a thousand times over in bright flashes as the room suddenly felt rather lonely and cold without your presence in it anymore. Spencer looked around the room as he felt his shoulders sag, emotions came back to him as well as memories of Maeve, Tobias, Nathan and multiple other people who impacted his life in some way, in a way of his work and in a way that's personal.

Alex.

Of course!

Spencer scrambled for his phone and clicked on Blake's personal cell number. It rang three times before the woman's voice floated through.

“Ried? Is everything okay?” the worry in Blake's voice floated through the speakers as Spencer took a breath.

“I…” Spencer sighed softly and sniffled, god was he going to cry again? “I think im in love...again”

“Oh Spence,”

---

You smiled tightly as your date talked about...what was he talking about again?

“And that's how I found out my family was a part of the mafia group in the nineteen hundreds!” the date exclaimed, oh god had you forgotten his name already?

“Thats,” you gave a fake laugh as real as you could, “that's amazing Matt!” you said with a clap of your hands.

“My name’s Michael…” your date reminded you, you sighed and put your head in your hands with a groan.

“I'm sorry-”

“No it's...I can tell your head is somewhere else,” your date said with a smile, “did you want to talk about it?” he asked, you bit your lip before responding.

“One of my coworkers…” should you be telling a story that isn't yours to tell? “One of my coworkers lost someone close to them ten months ago,” you started the story, you can't stop now, “and to be a good friend I started to sing for him!” you said happily, using your hands to talk, “i started singing for him because it made me happy when i was a child and i thought it would cheer him up as well, in the end it did and it helped him get better and obviously he is better but...that was ten months ago,” you sighed, “Micheal it was ten months ago that he lost what could possibly be his only love and here i am...in love with him,”

“Oh doll,” Micheal said softly as he put his hand on top of yours, “what do you mean his only love?” the man asked, “just so i can get a better understanding and idea of the situation,” he smiled politely.

“Hes...he has an eidetic memory, can read 20,000 words a minute, he has 3 PhDs and 3 Bachelors, he doesn't get along well with women in the romance scene a lot of the time but he's just...he's just so smart and he's so lovely and kind and works well with everyone,” you took a breath as you wiped a tear from your eye you didn't realise had leaked, “he puts himself on the line all the time; he’s been shot in the knee, shot in the shoulder, he got kidnapped and drugged, poisoned with a worse strain of Anthrax then actual anthrax, he's such a good hostage speaker, he delves into every case with everything he has as if its his last which it could possibly be, he helped a young boy, Nathan Harris, when he believed he was going to become a serial killer an-”

“Woah woah woah baby slow down,” Micheal said as he looked to you, “you’re getting so worked up over this boy, i mean, he's just a boy,” Micheal said with a grin, “you sing for him don't you?”

“Yeah I do,” you absentmindedly smiled, “it's amazing, just today we sung It’s My Life before I came here,” you said with a large grin, the memory still fresh.

“Okay so, how about, instead, you lean it to more romantic songs? Slowly give him hints and open up to him more?” Micheal questioned, you never actually thought of that but as you mulled it over it sounded a lot better than any other plan you would have had brewed anway. You nodded.

“Thats...thats really good Micheal,” you said with a grin, “thank you,”

“It’s alright; if i can't be the one then i'll help you with him,” Micheal said with a joking grin. You ended the night with the waitress coming over to take your plates as you asked for the bill, split it, giving a lovely tip and Micheal driving you home. He planted a kiss on your cheek before handing you his number on a napkin, “for whenever and whatever you want or need,” he had said, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and a thank you before retreating into your house and mulling over the next few songs to sing for Spencer whenever he wanted.

---

A few days passed after your date and Spencers emotional outburst to Blake (which she kept to herself and Spencer of course), you had been given a case and hadn't had time to sing to Spencer; you could tell this was taking a little toll on the poor doctor as he became distracted easily as well as the far off gaze he had on his face a lot of the time now, however, the plane had just landed back in DC.

“Spence!” you called for the doctor, he turned for a moment and slowed his walking for you to catch up, “did you want me to call tonight?” you asked with a grin.

“Yes please (Y/n),” the doctor said, he seemed sad but also desperate.

“Are you alright?” you questioned as you stopped the doctor with your hand on his arm, “i'm here for you,”

“I’ll be alright after tonight (Y/n), it's okay,” and without another word Spencer left you, spoke to Hotch for a second and then headed out the door.

“Are you two okay?” Blake asked as she came up next to you.

“I think so, I think it’s just because we haven't had a lot of time recently for our normal sessions,” you said with a tight smile.

“He misses you (Y/n),” Blake said, “a lot more than you know,” the two of you dropped the subject pretty quickly after that as you walked to the parking lots and headed home, the road seemed to go in a blur as you drove, forming colours and paint strokes against the harsh greys of the DC city buildings.

---

Another few days passed and your singing sessions went back to normal, except this time you added more romantic songs, adding a more soft tone or even adding your uke like one of the first times you sang for Spencer, and right now you were finishing off Hey There Delilah.

“Hey there, Spencer,” you had changed the lyrics for the last ‘hey there’, you heard Spencer give off a little breathy laugh, “You be good, and don't you miss me, two more years and you'll be done with school,” you couldn't help but laugh slightly at the school part seeing as Spencer had...well you know what he’s got, “And I'll be makin' history like I do. You know it's all because of you…” you trailed the end of your sentence off slightly, “We can do whatever we want to…” you sighed softly, “hey there, Spencer, here’s to you,” you trailed off again as you felt tears well in your eyes as you spoke the last words instead of singing them, “This one's for you” and with that the song ended and you smiled into the phone, Spencer clapped loudly into the phone’s speaker.

“That was beautiful (Y/n)!” the doctor exclaimed with a smile, “I haven't heard that song before,” you laughed, of course he hadn't heard the song before.

“It's a classic but not the type of classic you know of,” you said with a smile as you heard Spencer laugh along with you too, “I’m sorry Spence but i have to get to bed,” you sounded so sad.

“Right, of course,” Spencer said as he finally glanced at the clock, god it was past 12 already? You'd been on a call together since 10, “goodnight (Y/n), i'll see you at Garcias tomorrow?” Spencer asked, shit. You'd forgotten about tomorrow completely.

“Y-yeah of course! I'll be there don't worry,” you smiled into the phone, “goodnight Spence” and with that you hung up the phone and got ready for bed. Spencer did the same in his apartment.

---

You smiled sweetly at Spencer as he placed Maeve's photo on the altar as everyone gave him a sympathetic look and then another person's photo.

“This is uh, Nikola Tesla,” he said, you couldn't help but smile, “i just hope he's still having fun inventing things wherever he is” Spencer said with the little smile and laugh he does every now and then as he stepped back from the alter; allowing you to place your photo. You gulped as you fiddled with the photographic paper.

“This uh,” you started, nobody actually knew who this was, you sniffled as Garcia held you hand and you smiled to her as thanks for the reassurance, you cleared your throat, “this is Gene Wilder,” you grinned as Spencer chuckled softly, of course it was him, “i don't uh, i don't really have any family that i'm close to that has passed but, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory has always been my childhood, it was always close to my heart and when the movie came out i fell in love with it even more and the more i watched it the more i felt Gene Wilder become apart of me, my family and my life.” you took a breath as you placed the photo onto the altar, it was of his iconic Willy Wonka pose, “of course he has become a meme icon,” you laughed as everyone did too, “but i know for a fact he looks at everyone from wherever he is and he looks at them with such passion and love and admiration for whatever they're doing and i know he fills me with hope and confidence whenever i need it” you smiled as you finished and stepped back and the line continued.

You all gave your thanks, gave a blessing or a prayer depending on who it was, sent your respects and then went your way with drinks and conversations and music. Spencer smiled as he came up to you when Hotch walked away, your conversation about Henry becoming dwindled as the food looked more appetizing to Hotch.

“Hey,” Spencer said with a little wave as he held a cup of...cordial?

“Are you really drinking cordial Spencer?” you asked with a laugh as Spencer nodded.

“Believe it or not cordial is a lot healthier than wine,” Spencer spoke with a laugh as he stated the obvious, you smiled as well but it was tight, “are you okay?” you nodded.

“Yeah i'll be alright,” you said quietly, where was this sad emotion suddenly coming from?

“Considering the circumstances it's okay to be sad (Y/n)” Spencer commented as he saw your saddened expression but before he could say anything else you put on a fake smile.

“Spence i promise, im okay” you said with fake confidence, “promise” you held out your hand for the doctor and took his warm palm in his, you could tell Spencer didn't believe you but nodded anyway, but your whole demeanor changed as soon as the song did and you grinned, “dance with me Spencer?” you asked as you set down your wine and dragged the poor doctor to the ‘dance floor’.

“N-no i'm not really- i haven't ever-” Spencer stuttered but with your glowing smile and laugh he found himself not finding the words to excuse himself before nodding and placing his drink down on the nearest surface. You brought the doctor close to your body and rested your head in his neck as his arms wrapped around your waist hesitantly and yours wrapped around his neck, you danced in a slow circle as the rest of the team gave suggestive glances to each other.

“Rose girls in glass vases, perfect bodies, perfect faces, they all belong in magazines” your voice floated through the air softly and Spencers voice hitched, “Those girls the boys are chasing, winning all the games they're playing, they're always in a different league” you continued to sing and sway with Spencer, his grip tightened on you as he buried his face into your hair as Hotch pulled Alex in for a dance, Rossi with J.J. and Derek and Garcia all walked to the dance floor; slow dancing and holding one another softly as your voice continued, “Stretching toward the sky like I don't care, wishing you could see me standing there” god was that directed to Spencer? It was, wasn't it? Spencer bit his lip at the thought as he continued swaying as he looked up for a second and saw everyone else slow dancing, a smile gracing his lips as your voice flowed through the air again, “But I'm a sunflower, a little funny, If I were a rose, maybe you'd want me” your voice wavered as you buried your face into Spencers neck, “If I could, I'd change overnight, I'd turn into something you'd like but i'm a,” your voice came out a little stronger now as you looked up and saw your co-workers now switching dance partners; Rossi with Hotch (which made you laugh a little), J.J. and Derek, and Alex with Garcia, “sunflower, a little funny, if I were a rose, maybe you'd pick me” your voice sighed at the end as you broke away from Spencers neck to look at the beautiful man in front of you, wording the lyrics to him, “But I know you don't have a clue, this sunflower's waiting for you,” both of you leant in as your eyes darted to Spencers mouth, his eyes doing the same to yours as he licked his lips without realisation, “Waiting for you” with your mouths inches apart and your eyelids slowly closing, you could feel Spencers breath fanning over your lips...almost...almost…

“(Y/n) that's a beautiful voice you have!” Alex exclaimed, the song continued in the background as yourself and Spencer jumped away from each other, smiling awkwardly as you wiped your sweaty palms on your hips and thighs. Your teammates all broke away from each other; Blake must have been the only one to see and realise what was going to happen, you looked to Alex with a mix of emotions including anger and appreciation; anger because she stopped you and Spencer from kissing, appreciation because she stopped you and Spencer kissing in front of the others.

“Thanks…” you smiled as you scratched the back of your head with an awkward smile, “well i gotta start heading!” you exclaimed suddenly, the crushing feeling in your chest getting too much for you to stay.

“Ohhh what what what?” Garcia asked as she came forward, “oh come on i can get the blow up mattress, we can all sleep here, take tomorrow off; Hotch we can take tomorrow off can't we?” Garcia suddenly exclaimed, you all smiled as did Hotch but he didn't say a word; Garcia was tipsy, if not already drunk.

“It’s okay Penelopie really,” you said with a smile as you walked to the girl and hugged her close, “i'll see you guys tomorrow though,” you smiled as you hugged everyone, of course Spencer being the last.

“I’ll drive you home,” Spencer said quickly as he picked up your coat as well as his, you stuttered as Spencer opened Garcia's door but decided against it; instead blushing and thanking Spencer as the two of you walked out of the apartment building and to Spencers old timey wimey car.

“Think those two will realise?” Derek said off-handedly with a knowing grin.

“They’re profilers, they'll figure it out,” Rossi said with a grin.

-------

Yourself and Spencer had already discussed you would sleepover at his house in case you got drunk or tipsy off of wine, that and the fact you used public transport to get to Garcias rather than a car and Spencer didn't want you to go onto the tubes at this time at night.

“No, Spence, I already told you I'm not taking your bed!” you exclaimed with a laugh as you got a drink from Spencer's kitchen.

“(Y/n) please, my couch is complete rubbish and i know!” Spencer exclaimed from his bedroom where he was getting dressed in. You scoffed jokingly.

“Oh yeah Spencer, you've slept on your couch you germaphobe” you said with a smile as you walked to Spencer's bedroom.

“I did! When…” as you entered the bedroom the air turned cold as Spencers smile fell, you looked at him from across the room in all of his shirtless-and-low-hanging-pyjama-pants glory, he cleared his throat, “when Maeve…” he choked as his sentence drained off the way it does when Spencer is emotional and about to cry.

“Oh, Spence im...im sorry i didn't think,” you said softly, you stayed in the doorway unsure of what to do. Spencer cleared his throat as he threw his side of the covers back and started to get into the bed.

“Please?” Spencer questioned, you knew what he wanted as he bunched the sheets at his waist and played with his fingers while looking at the covers, you nodded. Whether Spencer saw you nod or not you weren't sure but you went through the same motions as you would when going to bed; brushed your teeth in Spencer's connected bathroom, tugged off your work clothes, put on your pyjamas as Spencer waited patiently in the bed, unmoving. Your feet padded on the floor as you brought back the covers on the other side of Spencer and sat on the bed next to him, the covers bunched up around your waist as you waited, waited for Spencer to lay down, hold your hand, something.

And then he did.

“Spencer i know-”

“Can you sing for me?” Spencer suddenly asked, his voice on the verge of breaking as he looked to you with teary eyes, you nodded quickly and began to smile.

“Yeah, yeah of course i can Spencer,” you said quickly, “did you want to get under the covers?” you asked softly, Spencer nodded and sniffled softly as the two of you maneuvered to lay down. You laid on your back as Spencer clutched onto you, his head rested on your chest as your arm wrapped around his back and to his shoulder, “what do we want tonight?” you asked in a soft voice into Spencer's hair.

“Anything, anything happy,” Spencer mumbled into your chest, you nodded and thought for a moment.

“Why are there so many, songs about rainbows, and what's on the other side” you started to sing, Spencer doesn't know the muppets very well but he has heard this song play in your headphone while on the jet home after a tough case once or twice, this was the second song you used to calm yourself down next to The Candy Man, “Rainbows are visions, they're only illusions, and rainbows have nothing to hide” your voice was soft and filtered through the air as Spencer closed his eyes, envisioning himself in a wonderful forest, just like Kermit the frog with you by his side, your uke in your arms, the cords coming through seamlessly, “So we've been told and some chose to believe it, but I know they're wrong wait and see” you squeezed Spencer softly as you started on the chorus, “Someday we'll find it, The Rainbow Connection” you tilted Spencers chin up from your chest and moved back from Spencer a little so he wasn't arched weirdly nor where you bent weirdly, “The lovers,” you pointed a finger into your own chest, “the dreamers,” you pointed a finger into Spencers chest as he smiled softly, his tears dripping into the creases of his smile, “and me” you cuddled back into Spencer as his arms tightly wrapped around you again.

“Who said that every wish,” Spencer's soft voice filtered in the air, you smiled and hummed the instrumentals, “Would be heard and answered, when wished on the morning star” you smiled and kissed Spencer's head again and joined in with singing.

“Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it, look what it’s done so far” you shrugged jokingly as if the ‘look what it's done so far’ was someone really saying it, a soft chuckle came from Spencer, “What's so amazing,” you shrugged again as you looked to Spencer, “that keeps us stargazing, what do we think we might see?” you brought your unwrapped arm up towards the ceiling and cupped it around as if you were cupping Spencers chin, “Someday we’ll find it,” you looked back down to Spencer as your arm came down as well, “The Rainbow Connection,” you cupped Spencers cheek as you moved forward, Spencer doing the same as he looked down to your lips like he did at Garcias before gliding back up to your eyes, “The lovers,” you cocked a small smile as the lyrics came out in a whisper, “The dreamers,” you tapped Spencer cheek softly as the gap finally closed and your lips pressed against Spencers for a short moment before you both pulled back slowly, “And me”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #alex blake #aaron hotchner #david rossi #penelopie garcia #garcia #spencer reid x reader #x reader #spencer x reader #reid x reader #jj #the candyman can

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lu-undy · 4 years

Text

Chapter 69 - SBT

Here it is!

"Gosh…"

"Hm?"

"I can't get enough of you, Lu'."

The ex-spy smiled. Their limbs were entangled in the bed. Mundy was playing with Lucien's long hair and the Frenchman was simply staring at him with lovestruck eyes.

"Neither can I."

Mundy took a handful of Lucien's silky locks and put them under his nose.

"Even your smell's beautiful…" He shut his eyes.

"What do I smell like?" Lucien asked.

Mundy opened his eyes and smiled at Lucien.

"Home." He answered.

"Look at you being the poet…!"

Mundy blushed and his smile widened as Lucien moved closer to kiss him. Lucien's hand moved to his cheek and his lips nipped at Mundy's with a wide smile, and a chuckle. Their lips connected and parted with a loud lapping noise.

"Your hair's bloody beautiful, luv'."

"I had in mind to cut it at some point, but if you prefer it long…"

"You do what you want, Lu', it's your hair, eh?"

"Oui but what would you prefer?"

"I… I quite like it long actually…"

Lucien smiled.

"What about me? Like it short or…?"

"Oui. You look wild enough without the long hair." Lucien winked and Mundy chuckled.

"Right…"

Lucien laid his head under Mundy's jaw, on his chest again and closed his eyes. Soon, their very breaths synced up.

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"Will we ever… Come back to the city and stuff or…?"

The Frenchman sighed.

"I cannot access anything that will let the French or any other secret services know about my surviving."

"Ok, what do we do?"

"I will write a will."

"Uh… Luv', wills are supposed to be written before you die, eh?"

"Oh we will put a fake date and you will say that you have found it amongst my things."

"Ok, why?"

"I will leave all my money to you. Meanwhile, you will need to go to Maurice and ask him for a coffee, with milk and two sugars."

"What?! Hold on, what's it gotta do with the plan?"

Lucien chuckled.

"It is a code, not an actual invitation."

"What's it mean?"

"Tell him that Paris wants a coffee with two sugars and a drop of milk. Then, give him the will, he will sort everything out."

Mundy frowned.

"Ok but what's it mean?"

"It means I am alive and need a new identity."

"Oh… So your name won't be Lucien de Beauregard anymore?" Lucien looked up at Mundy. "That's what's written on your tombstone, luv'. Sorry if I butchered it by the way."

"You remember it?"

"I can't really forget. I felt awful when the priest said your full name. I realised that even though I loved you to bits, I didn't even know your name."

"It doesn't matter."

"It did. I felt bad." Mundy frowned.

"Mon amour… I am sorry. I never thought my last name would be relevant to anything." Lucien answered.

"It's ok, I don't care now, but it was just… weird."

"Do you know what it means?" Lucien asked.

"What what means?"

"My last name."

"No, what?"

"Literally, Lucien of the beautiful gaze."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped.

"Wow… So your eyes are a family thing or what?"

"One could say so. What about you?" Lucien asked.

"Me?"

"Oui, what is your last name? Mundy the Wild Wolf?"

"Pff…" Mundy chuckled. "Nah, Turner."

"Mundy Turner." Lucien repeated with his accent. "I like it."

"You'd better, cause I'm not gonna change it." Mundy scratched Lucien's scalp through his hair and the Frenchman closed his eyes. "So then, you won't be Lu' anymore?"

"Not for the world, but only you and the few people who know me will still call me L, or Lu'."

"What new name will you go for?"

"Do you have ideas?" Lucien asked.

"No, I don't know a lot of French names, eh… You choose."

"I was thinking of using my second name, Louis."

"Louis?"

"Oui."

"And for your last name? Hard to top up Lu' with the beautiful eyes, eh? Or maybe you can go for Louis the handsome bloke or something?" Mundy chuckled.

"I might." Lucien answered and kissed Mundy's cheek.

"Does Maurice know about you…?"

"I think he has his doubts and won't be very surprised."

"Right. We can do all that faff tomorrow then."

"Oui, for now, let us enjoy the night together…" Lucien slid a leg between Mundy's.

"Oh… Wow… Alright…"

"Too much?"

"Nah, it's just… Nice."

Lucien smiled.

"Good."

"Lu'?"

"Oui?"

"Somethin' I thought about after you died…"

"Tell me."

"I couldn't even tell Pearl cause she was still a baby but uh… Well, I don't even know how to say it… Ahem, y'know usually when two people like each other quite a bit and uh… They spend some nights together and uh…"

"Oui."

"Well, I was thinking about us and I was surprised that we never… Y'know…"

Lucien smiled.

"Oui, I know. Do you think we should?"

"N-no, that's weird to think about it that way. No, I was just surprised that we never did it. I mean, before you, I remember that waitress for example. Didn't know her at all. I just went to her pub once. She latched onto me and asked me about my van and stuff."

"Ooh, mon loup has his successes, hm…?"

Mundy blushed.

"Nah, I mean…"

"Go on."

"Yeah, so she asked me to come back after her shift. I had nothin' else to do, so I came back in the evenin'. We got some takeaway and had dinner with it at her place and then… Ugh…"

"And then you concluded with her?"

"Well, not really. She was the one who wanted it and she started it."

"What about you?"

"I didn't really care."

Lucien frowned slightly and looked up at his lover.

"You… did not really care?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's ok to do it, feels nice on the body but… I wasn't really feeling anythin' with her."

"Oh… Fair enough. What happened between you two then?"

"Next morning, I took my stuff and left. Never seen her again."

"You felt ashamed?"

"No."

"You felt proud?"

"No. It's weird. I didn't feel anythin'. I went back to the van, drove to the lake here and had a swim."

"Mundy, do you mind me asking how long it has been since you felt something for someone?"

"Before you? Uh… More than ten years for sure."

"Hm."

"You?"

"Likewise."

"Oh, ok."

"And then I met you and I couldn't pull you out of my head, however hard I tried."

"Thanks, luv'." Mundy kissed Lucien's head.

"May I also confess a thought I had after I supposedly passed away?"

"Sure."

Lucien found Mundy's hand under the bed cover and slid his fingers between the Aussie's.

"Do you remember the bath we took together at the hotel?"

"Yeah, course I do."

"It was the most romantic thing I had done in more than a decade. The candles, the bubbles… Your naked skin against mine. I enjoyed it almost too much."

"Too much?" Mundy asked.

"Oui, too much."

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean that my body almost betrayed me in that bath, under the bubbles. I was glad I was laying on top of you and not the other way around or you would have felt it."

"Oh, you mean-?"

"Oui."

"Well, uh… You do the same to me, eh. I, uh, I love you too much I guess." Mundy answered, blushing beyond his ears.

The embrace tightened and Lucien started kissing Mundy's chest and neck again.

"L-Lu'…?" The Aussie raised his head to offer more of his neck to Lucien.

"I want to love you." Lucien whispered and Mundy felt his beard scratching his skin in the most delicious way. Soon, Lucien's lips were on his but this time, both parties wanted it to last.

Lucien straddled his lover and laced his fingers between Mundy's, pinning his hands left and right.

"Bugger…"

They did not wait long before adding the French to the kiss and Mundy hoped to God he wasn't too rusty. On the other hand, Lucien seemed more than confident and well-practised in that art…

He took Mundy's tongue on a voyage, it was sent to explore, taste and rediscover sensations long gone and forgotten. Mundy even forgot to breathe and when he gasped for air, Lucien couldn't hold back a chuckle.

The Frenchman's straight, silky hair fell on them both and Mundy wished he could touch it… Ah, it was an obsession that hair now! He didn't know he could be that sensitive and attracted by it.

But what kept on burning his insides was the slow dance of the tongue that Lucien was taking him to. A sensual, mellow, and slick waltz of the tastes. Mundy rolled up his eyes and let Lucien lead on things.

The Frenchman had frowned, he was trying to write, to sing and to paint at the same time. He wanted Mundy to understand. He wanted him to see, hear and taste how much he loved him and beyond that maybe, how much he wanted him.

Oui, they had never done it before. But it didn't feel right for either of them. Lucien freed Mundy's hand to grasp his hair and Mundy went straight for his hips, pulling them flush against his own.

"Oh, mon Dieu, Mundy…"

Lucien seemed to like it. Good, that's nice. Mundy kept their hips in contact and it quickly escalated for both of them. They could both feel it, through their hot kisses, their shy moans rising in volume, the friction of their clothes. Yes, tension was rising and with it, a desire they hadn't felt in years…

"M-Mundy, wait."

Mundy stopped sharp. Both were breathing heavily.

"Sorry, I thought you wanted to…?"

"I do. But…" Lucien was sitting on Mundy's hips straddling them.

"Hey, it's fine, luv'. If you don't feel like it, I won't force you or anything."

"Non, I do want it but…" Lucien bent down and laid on Mundy. "Last time I did that was ages ago, and with a woman."

"W-wait, you mean since Mary you never…?"

"Non. I never found anyone else. So I didn't."

"Oh…"

"Especially not a man. I fear I might be… Rusty."

"Mate, same for me eh. But I don't care that you're rusty or not. I won't grade you over this. You do what feels good as long as we both like it…" Mundy brushed Lucien's hair with his fingers. "You don't have anythin' to prove to me. I love you."

"I know. I just feel a bit… ashamed."

"Why?"

"I used to be a man who knew what he was doing with all this and now, I cannot even kiss you without over-thinking it."

"Can I tell you somethin' a bit serious, love?"

"Oui?" Lucien raised his head off of Mundy's chest to look him in the eye.

"No offense but that man you're talking about, that's not the man I love."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped.

"No, I don't even know him. The Lu' that I fell for is the one who cries when he sings, who smiles and plays silly with me. The one who adopted a kitten and loved her like his own daughter. I never saw the womaniser spy in you. I saw a bloke who had a responsibility, like me, and we did what we had to." Mundy pushed Lucien's hair behind his ear. "I think that you haven't been that cold-blooded spy that you think you are for a long, long time. You just held on to the image because that's what you think you are. But you could ask anyone, that's not what they see of you."

Lucien raised interrogative eyebrows.

"If you were at the funeral, you heard everyone. No one said you were a cold-blooded, seducing machine. Nah, people said you were generous, compassionate. You saved people more than you killed. Bastien took your words and is workin' his arse off to become what he wants, hell, even Victoria admitted she saw you like the dad she wished she had… No one mentioned your success with sheilas, y'know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you're so much more than that. You're so much more beautiful than that. People see your looks first, yeah, but when they get to know you, they don't see the looks anymore, they see what you're hidin' here." Mundy poked Lucien's chest gently. "And they remember it for life, because you changed theirs."

Lucien smiled with glistening eyes and he bit his lip to hold himself back.

"Hey…" Mundy put a hand on Lucien's bearded cheek. "Gettin' emotional, are we?"

Lucien simply nodded and leaned his head in Mundy's warm palm.

"It's alright, love. But eh, I just want you to understand this. I don't expect anything from you and I don't care about any of these things." Mundy smiled. "I lost you once and I don't want this to happen ever again. So please… Stop thinking that you're disappointin' me or other kind of nonsense like that, ok?"

Lucien nodded again, his eyes still wet.

"I love you. I love the you that I met and that I have in front of me, not the one from twenty bloody years ago."

Lucien smiled.

"I love you." He answered, and his voice shook under the sobs that he gulped down hard in his throat.

"C'mere." Mundy pulled Lucien to lie down on him and the Frenchman obliged. "You get what I said?"

"Oui."

"You sure?"

"Oui."

"So now, whenever you do anythin', don't do it like you're L the spy. Do it like you're my Lu'."

Lucien slid his hands between Mundy's back and the mattress and hugged him close.

"Get it?"

"Oui."

"Gimme a kiss."

Lucien raised his head and put his lips against Mundy.

"Wanna cry?"

"I think so."

"Ok, do it."

"Non, not with you."

"Lu', what did I just say…? Quit tryin' to be arrogant or anythin'. Just be you. You wanna cry? Then, bloody cry. Why d'you have to bottle everything up? 's not good."

"I don't want to make you distraught or make you worry about me."

"I worry about you more when you bottle everythin' up in that tiny head of yours. You gotta let it go."

Lucien slid his hands on Mundy's chest and grabbed his tee-shirt.

"It's alright. I love you."

Lucien closed his eyes and his tears started to flow down.

"You gotta learn how to feel normally now. The spy's dead and his secrets are dead with him."

"What am I then? I've always been a spy."

"You're my everythin'. You're my home, my family, my love, everything. I really mean it, Lu' you hear me? Once we sort your new name out, we'll find you somethin' to do, something you like and something without any spooky business. Something clean."

"Like what?" Lucien sniffed.

"Y'know, since I stopped hunting, I'm just helpin' Maurice out. I don't earn much, but it's enough for the cats and me. You could help too, if you want."

"I want to be with you, always." His voice was still trembling.

"And you will, don't worry. I'm sure Maurice could use an extra pair of hands. And Pearl got herself a job there too."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Mundy adjusted the blanket on Lucien's back and brushed his hands along the Frenchman's spine. "She does the pest control side of things. She hunts all the mice down, especially in the kitchens."

Lucien smiled between his tears.

"But yeah, if that's what you want, we can do that. And if not, you just have to say what you wanna do, I'm sure we can find something."

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?"

"Mundy, I won't lie to you, ever again."

Mundy's eyebrows jumped.

"If you love me as much as I do you, then I have to be more than just a partner in crime. I have to… I have to be honest with you."

Those words seemed so hard to get out that they sounded like they had torn Lucien's jaw.

"You don't have to do anythin', Lu'. You just gotta understand how normal people live, because you're one of them now."

He sniffed again and another train of tears ran along his cheeks.

"I'll keep on bein' myself with you, and you keep on being yourself too. The only difference is that now your head's much lighter cause you can take all the spooky business, all the nonsense and tell it all to piss off out of your mind, ok?"

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Course you can. But I understand you can just do it in one go and all. It'll take time, I guess. That's fine, we got a whole lifetime to go."

"Vraiment?"

"What?"

"I meant, really?"

"Yeah. I don't want anyone else, y'know. And uh, I really need to take you to my parents. They've got to meet you, really."

Lucien smiled against Mundy's chest.

"Y-you make me feel like a normal bloke too, y'know?"

"How so?"

"Feels like I can settle down with you. I mean, yeah, you're not a sheila so we're not exactly normal but…"

"We are both old adults and we are choosing this of our own accord. I don't believe that we are hurting anyone."

"Well, I'm not, but there's crates of fan mail from sheilas to disagree with you on that, eh?"

They both chuckled.

"Perhaps, oui."

"Yeah, I feel like I'm finding my place with you. Y'know, same as you're not a spy anymore, I'm not a hunter either. I'm just a bloke with cats. Christ, I've turned into the weird old lady with cats, but I'm a bloke…?"

Lucien chuckled.

"What next, Mundy, hm? Will you throw bread at the ducks in the park and nourish the pigeons?"

"Shut up, you…!"

They chuckled and hugged tighter as they kissed again and again.

"Thank you so much, Mundy."

"Yeah, well, thank you too, eh? You make me feel like I'm a… I'm a…"

"What is it? Say it, mon amour."

"A proper man."

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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