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#and while it was kind of sarcastic/ironic given the phrasing
not-poignant · 24 days
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Hello Pia how are you? Not really an ask but more sending thanks and love for all of your writing. I've been a reader for over a year now and am still in awe of your skill (and speed!). I've been getting back into writing and struggling with feeling inadequate or like my stuff reads childishly, as a result I can barely get out 5k aha, but I'm working viewing it as a lifelong dedication to improvement. (On a side note: your work got my teenaged self to snap out of purity wank, forever grateful!)
Hi anon,
It is so awesome that you're getting back into writing!
Honestly, it is a sign of a kind of growth to notice the things you don't like in your writing, because if you feel it reads childishly (and I bet it doesn't all read like that, or most of it doesn't), that means you have skillsets already to aim towards. You can see how you want to get better. This is a skill!!! It's a more painful skill, and it's not a good one to listen to all the time, but it's a good skill to have.
When it feels dispiriting you can balance it out by intentionally looking for and writing down your strengths as well, and writing more of those. It might be only a few lines, or it might be all of the dialogue, or it might be the descriptions, but there will be strengths too!
Also 5k is impressive! Everyone writes differently. It took Mark Z Danielewski 10 years to write House of Leaves, and I love that book a very great deal. Quantity =/= quality, and you also have to remember I've been doing this in a pretty focused way for 10 years! Trust me, if you did this in a focused way for 10 years, you'd be in a different place with your output (which isn't obligation to do this for that long, just that...things take time <3 )
I'm glad you were able to snap out of the purity wank mindset anon, it's a tough one to be in, because it makes you feel like you're not safe in your own mind, and after a while it shuts down curiosity because it feels like everything you're interested in has to be examined just in case it's a moral trap or says something 'terrible' about you if you show interest in it. And that's really hard! It makes sense to me why so many antis kind of really lock into what they think and believe, because they've gotten so used to treating themselves with paranoia, how can they not treat others that way?
And that's a miserable way to live. It's the opposite of benefit of the doubt.
So being able to separate from that is incredible! And that's a tribute to your own curiosity in the world, and interest in exploring different ways of doing things, and I think that's really cool. :D
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
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Rock N Roll People In A Disco World
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Part 5- Nobody Dance On A Sad Disco 
Intro: Paul doesn’t react well when your logical and practical side suggests you postpone your wedding…
Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader
Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Word Count: 7k
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Part 4
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"I just don't understand why you think this is such a big frickin' deal, Paul." You said with exasperation. This argument had been carrying on for a good twenty minutes and so far, the only thing you'd accomplished was going in circles like a NASCAR driver. 
“You don’t understand?” He scoffed, hands on his hips, “seriously? You don’t see why I’m slightly pissed off you wanna postpone our wedding?” "You can't continue to tell me that not pushing everything back a few months makes the most sense right now. In a month’s time we were supposed to be going away for our stags, and since..... since... you.... This is just what's better for..." 
"Y/N, you do still want to get married don't you?" He interrupted. The strain in his voice was evident from both use and emotion. 
"What kind of fucking question is that?" Now you were raging. The absolute audacity of him to even ask that.  “Well it's non-rhetorical.” “Of course I still want to get married, you fucking moron!” You growled.  "Then explain to me wh.." his voice cracked out and he breathed harshly through his nose. “That!” You gestured to him. “That is why!” "So it hurts a little, it's fine. For fucks sakes, I'm fine," his voice was entirely strained from arguing, his chords stretch to their limit. “No, you’re not.” You shook your head before you took a deep breath and pinched your nose. “Paul, I want our wedding to be a day we both look back on in years, decades even, to come and still love every minute of it...” "And we will!" “Right, okay, so your voice fails during our vows or your speech and you’re gonna be okay with that, huh?” You put your hands to your hips and waited for his reply.  "No. I mean, I don't know." "My point exactly." You flung a hand up in his direction.  “But it’s another eight weeks off, plenty of time, I might be fine.” He shrugged you off like he could make it happen. You knew it wasn't possible. It had only been a week since he'd said your sweet nickname as clear as day and while more and more words were stronger and phrases longer and more clear, you knew him better than that and you knew he wasn't ready no matter how much he wanted to pissingly argue with you that the two of you could move forward as if his shooting were nothing. 
"Might. Key word." You sighed, clearly frustrated to the point of tears as they welled and stung your eyes.  “Okay, fine.” His hands flew out to his side. “Have it your way, call the venue and cancel.” Gritting your teeth, you replied, “I don’t want to fucking cancel, Paul, I just want to move it!” “You know how long in advance we had to book that place, Y/N, it could be another year before they have an opening again.” “Then we wait another year!” You sighed dramatically, “in the grand scheme of things what does it matter? Today, tomorrow, twelve months, it all amounts to the same thing.” "It matters to me, Y/N." “Okay... fine. Let’s keep the date.” She shrugs. “Let’s just go for it and when you can’t speak and start to get frustrated we’ll write our vows on a pad of paper. Or, better still how about we learn sign language?” “You’re a sarcastic bitch.” “Yeah? And you’re a stubborn asshole.”
There was a long, angry pause between the two of you, harsh jabs and insults now floating painfully in the air. The two of you glared at one another. Both of you furrowing your brows and chewing on the insides of your mouths.  Then, you sighed, again with a harsh tone. "God damned it, I hate this. I hate that we’re even having to have this conversation but we are. You were shot! You were moments from death and-“ "And now it's my fault?" He shrieked at a higher pitch than his voice typically was.  “Oh for the love of- I didn’t say that!” You balled your hands into fists, your body visibly shaking. “So what are you saying?” “I’m saying that given everything that’s happened, pushing the second biggest day of my life back is the least of my fucking concerns, Paul.” Now you were tearfully arguing, your eyes red as was the tip of your nose. You blinked hard to attempt to show your strength, not wanting to back down. “Second biggest?” “Yes, the second. Because when you...I mean the...” you swallowed back the sob that threatened to scream from you, so you choked in it. “The first was when they told me you were going to live.”
At your words, Paul blinked a little, his mouth opening before it snapped shut again and you shook your head, continuing to talk. “I know you’re hurting and struggling with all of this and it isn’t what you want but it hasn’t been easy for me, either.” You sniffed, the tears now falling from your eyes. “I might not have been the one that took a bullet to the neck but I had to sit there and watch you, barely able to live but fight so hard to stay and all I could think about was the fact I might have to live without you and for that reason alone I’d have changed places with you in a fucking heartbeat.” Your face scrunched up with heavy emotion that you'd held onto for weeks. 
“Y/N....” he tried to take a step toward you, but the damage was done for the night. You were done.  “Seeing you there, in that bed, wondering if you were gonna make it or not, it was the worse time of my life. So, yeah, frankly I don’t care when we say I do, but it can't happen the way we want it to right now. You’re alive. That’s enough for me. And right now, well it should be for you too.”
You turned on your heel and quickly left the living room. You slammed the bedroom door shut and leaned your back against it whilst you allowed your exterior to fully collapse. You buried your face in your hands as you sobbed. This wasn't what you wanted, you'd expected a better reaction from him as you'd hoped he'd have seen things the same way as you, but you were wrong. 
Now, all that was left was to go to bed. You had no fight left, no drive and right now, you didn't want to make up.
Eventually, you crawled into bed and moved no further. Sleep weighing on you heavily. 
****
When he'd watched her go, Paul was floored. The things she'd said to him had gone unspoken since he'd been home from the hospital. He knew it had been hard on her, the both of them, what he'd gone through but he'd never imagined how she'd have felt given she was always such a strong woman and that was one of the things he adored most about her. 
In frustration, he rubbed his hands over his face and decided he needed a walk. He walked around the neighborhood and back, taking in the cool air, realizing the fall weather was upon them. Shit, fall, the holidays were creeping up on them and he'd hadn't even given it a thought. 
It didn't matter, what mattered was the incessant need to push their wedding back another year, was his best guess, and that killed him. It wrecked him and he found himself getting angry all over again. He wanted to marry her now, drag her down to the Justice of the Peace and take her as his bride the minute the courthouse opened. So now, why, all of a sudden did she not want to do even so much as that. Was it cold feet? Was it him? What had happened to him? Was she ashamed of him being unable to speak? She said it was nothing of the sort but it didn't stop the thoughts from weighing on him. 
When he got back to their apartment, he found Y/N fast asleep in their bed, her back to his side of the bed. He hated that they were going to bed like this. He didn't believe in it, and if he was honest with himself, this was the first time this had ever happened in the span of their relationship. He was a firm believer in his parents golden rule, never go to bed angry and always kiss each other goodnight. Tonight he didn't get to do either. 
With a sigh, he pulled off his T-shirt and tossed it in the direction of the hamper in the corner of the room but it didn’t quite make it. Instead, it dropped about a foot or so away, ironically right on the spot where he’d dropped to one knee that November evening almost three years ago…
She'd stood in the bathroom across the hall getting ready for their dinner date, listening to him chatter on in their bedroom about whatever it was as he dressed for the night. It was mid-week and they'd both managed to be off in time for a dinner date. Paul had wanted to make it fancy, something special.
"Do you know what today is?" He asked as he tied his tie in the mirror that stood in the corner of their room.
"Er, Wednesday," she replied, loud enough for her voice to carry. 
"Of course, but try again," there was a hint of humor to his voice, sarcasm at best.
"Date night," she giggled. 
"Nope." He breathed out a nervous, shaky breath. A full two strides and he stood in front of their chest of drawers, pulling open his sock drawer, reaching for the small box in the back. 
"I give up."
He chuckled anxiously and closed the drawer. "Our anniversary." He took a knee, opening up the small box and waited. 
"What? No, that's not for a few more months," she said with a smile as she walked across the hall and into the doorway of their room. Her hands were at her ear, adjusting her earring.
She gasped seeing him on one knee, his eyes smiling but his hands shaking as he held out the ring box. The lid open to show her what he was asking. 
"Also true, but no. At exactly this minute, twenty-one months ago," he checked his watch, "I responded to a call for backup and my life changed forever. I met this woman who I just couldn't let go and that same woman took her time in giving me a chance. But I knew from the moment she kissed me that nothing would ever be the same. I fell in love that night, and I knew I wanted to make her mine, to keep on loving her forever. That is, if you'll have me forever?"
He watched as her eyes began to pool with tears as her own shaky hands covered her mouth as he spoke, a nervous silence crossing the room as she seemingly processed everything he'd said. 
Tearfully, she replied, "yes, absolutely, yes!"
Tears welled up in his beautiful blue eyes as he stood, and pulled the ring from its box, slipping it on with jittery fingers over the knuckles of her ring finger before he crashed his lips into hers for a deep, happy kiss. "I love you so much, Sugar."
With their foreheads pressed sweetly together, they both cried a little. 
"Tell me about it, Stud." She smiled.
They were late to dinner that night, both of them showing up glowing. But his surprises hadn't ended there, no. He'd had both their parents waiting on them for their eight o'clock dinner reservations to celebrate their new good fortune. It was a night he'd never forget, not ever. 
Paul glanced down at the ring on his girl’s finger as she slept. Her left hand just close enough to her face so it wasn't obscured as she still lay with her back to him while her right lay tucked up under her pillow. The five raw cut diamonds were set in white gold, a center stone with two diamonds on each side. The center cut wasn't gargantuan and it didn't need to be. She knew how hard he'd worked to buy her the simple design with the small stones it held. 
He'd wanted to upgrade it the month he'd solved his first case as a detective but she'd denied him, explaining that it didn't matter how big or fancy it was, the first one was special because of all the thought and effort he'd put forth to even consider her as his wife.
With a sigh he bowed his head and turned to go wash up, before he climbed into bed, Y/N’s back still facing him and he lay awake, looking at the ceiling until finally, an hour or so later, sleep finally took him.
**** The next morning your alarm went off for the first time in weeks. With a groan you hit the button to silence it and cracked open a sore, tear swollen eye, it was still dark outside. You rose, heading on auto-pilot to the bathroom and showered quickly before you wrapped in a robe and headed in to make yourself some breakfast. Just as you were finishing up, Paul walked into the kitchen and you stood up and left the room, not speaking a word to him, you had nothing else to say.
Unfortunately, your bad mood soured what should have been a happy return to work, a sign that your life was getting back to some form of normalcy. Instead, you were off your game, and it didn’t go unnoticed.
"Yo, Panny, you come to work or just fucking off?" Rodriguez hollered from behind you as an entire clip of used bullets lay at your feet, still hot from firing. You slammed your hand against the button that brought your target to you, all but four shots missing the target. "Fuck off, Ro." "Y/L/N!" Captain Rogers shouted from the doorway. "Outside, now." With a grumble, you rolled your eyes and holstered your weapon, but not before changing out the empty clip for a new one. The tone of his voice was not comforting. "You got your ass handed to you on the mats in hand to hand, you couldn't even shoot a decent hand at sniper poker, and now my ace shot, a skilled and decorated marksman, can't sink a suspect in range." Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek as you drew a deep breath. “Sorry Cap, must be a little rusty.” He sighed and shook his head as it dropped disappointingly to his chest. "You're not ready, go home Y/N." "Steve...." "I pushed you too far. Go home, chill the fuck out, take the weekend." You groaned, “I don’t wanna go home.” The petulance evident both in your tone and body language as you folded your arms across your chest. “I'm fine. It's just a rough start." "Go the fuck home, Y/N. Or I'll send the Mrs. after you." You couldn't stand his wife and given your relationship with Steve, it was a credible threat. Karen Rogers was as green as Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West. "I'd call you an asshole but you're my sup so...." "Now, Y/N." “Fine.” You shrugged. “I’ll go back home. Wonderful.” "I didn't miss the sarcasm," Steve called out to your back.
You flipped him the bird as you kept walking.
**** Paul slammed the door to his mom and dad’s house, storming into the kitchen. It had been a shitty morning, with Y/N not speaking to him and then that damned fucking speech and physical therapy he had to endure twice a damned week.
“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Big Jim looked at him, frowning a little. Paul ignored him and headed straight to the fridge, pulling out a soda.
“Paul, honey, what’s got into you?” Dot asked gently and he sighed, turning to face both his parents who were sat at the bar top, the remnants of a brunch on their plates in front of them. “Y/n wants to postpone the wedding.”
“Ah.” His dad leaned back in his chair. “And let me guess, you don’t?”
“Fuck, no.”
“Language.” His mother chastised and Paul rolled his eyes, as he paced slightly across the kitchen.
“And, you clearly discussed this in your usual, calm and rational manner?” His dad arched an eyebrow. Paul paused for a moment to eye his dad, before he resumed his movements.
With a sigh his mom spoke. “Paul, sit down for a second, quit pacing my kitchen floor.”
“I don’t want to sit down.” He shot back, petulantly.
“Paul Christopher Diskant, you sit your grown butt down, now.” His mother’s tone was sharp and with a groan he pulled a seat out from the breakfast bar, opposite his parents, and flopped down.
“Now, out with it, from the beginning.” His mother instructed and Paul let out another growl of frustration.
“I just told you. She wants to postpone the wedding. I don’t. There’s nothing else to tell you.”
“Don’t sass me!”
“I’m not sassing you, you’re just not fucking listening.”
“Hey, cut the shit. Don't talk to your mother like that.” Big Jim pointed at him, his voice stern. “You might be a grown man but I'll still kick your ass into next week, you little shit.”
Paul took a deep breath, his head hanging slightly. “Sorry Mom. It's been a really crappy couple of days.” At that he snorted. “Crappy couple of weeks one way or another.”
“Oh, Paul. I know it's not been easy.” Dot gave him a gentle smile. “But you're here with us and that's really all we care about.”
“I just feel like Y/N is getting cold feet. And that really sucks.”
“Don't be a dick.” Dot scoffed at his admission of feelings. “That girl has stood by you while you knocked on death's door.” “Mom, did you just call me a dick?” Paul looked at her, his brow raised and she nodded.
“Yes.”
“She’s not wrong.” His dad interjected.
“What is this gang up on Paul day?”
“You’re acting like a spoiled child who just had his best toy taken away.” Big Jim looked at him. “Son, she wants to postpone, not cancel!”
“Well it didn't feel that way last night or this morning. She stormed out for her first day back at work all pissed off I wasn't agreeing with her.”
“And I refer back to my previous observation. Maybe you should have attempted to discuss the issue in a calm and rational manner as opposed to shouting and getting all pissy.” Big Jim observed.
"I’m not pissy, I’m just... look, we've waited twice as long as we wanted to because she loved the venue so much, hell, I loved the venue. That place means a lot to us and it's so perfect. Everything has been perfect until now." He sighed, his voice again weak.
"What was her reasoning?" Dot pressed.
"Me." He said sadly, frustration clearly featured on his face.
"Paul, I highly doubt it's just you."
"She doesn't think I'm ready. Healthy enough. Healed enough. There's till eight weeks, Mom. Eight weeks, I can be so much better by then."
Dot reached across the granite for his hand. He took it, and held tight, like a boy needing his mother.
"My sweet, love sick boy," she softly smirked at him and he rolled his eyes .”Y/N is only thinking about you. She knows how frustrated you get when you struggle to talk and how would you feel if that happened during the vows or speeches? Look, Sweetheart, you’ve waited years for this, what’s another couple of months?” 
“Mom, it won’t be a couple of months, there’s no way that place won’t be booked up for at least another year. I just... Is it so bad that I want to marry her right now as we planned?" His voice breaking and cracking. Too much talking.
“No, Son, it's not.” Jim cut in. “But listen to yourself, your struggling to talk now after this conversation. Y/N just wants to have the wedding you both have dreamed of, and spent so much time planning. Don't take that from her or yourself. You'll look back and think, I should have waited, when I was at full strength.”
Diskant looked at his father before he sighed and his shoulders sagged a little. “Seems like I’m out voted.”
"Not out voted, just...." Big Jim couldn't come up with a reasonable example. 
But Dot interrupted, "We just think you need to think about this a little more and be open to what's going on."
"Open to what? The fact I’m now not gonna get married for another year coz some asshole shot me in the neck?" 
"Paul..."
He shrugged, "Whatever. Guess, I have some rearranging to do."
Automatically, he looked down at his phone and saw that Tom Ludlow was calling. If there were any better time to get off this hamster wheel of an argument it were now. "I gotta take this."
He stepped outside and took his call. An hour later, he was meeting Ludlow at their apartment, fresh bottles of beer in the fridge and two on the coffee table between them.
Ludlow filled him in on exactly what happened after he'd left the scene and Paul behind. He talked about how Biggs was using Ludlow to get to Wander, how Tom had killed his entire unit out of self-defence and in turn discovered all the corrupt shit Captain Wander had on Tom, the unit, multiple officers, judges, councilmen and other local politicians and prominent community leaders. He told Diskant about the stolen money, hidden in the walls of Wander's home and he explained how important Biggs seemed to think Tom was for IA and the department. 
It didn't surprise Diskant in the slightest that Ludlow's department was dirty. In fact, he'd half expected it and the realization hit moments before he was shot. The rest of Tom's story however was just insane, insane enough that he joked a movie could be made about it. 
That said, Paul trusted Ludlow from the start. And he’d clearly been right about the guy, even if helping him had resulted in him being moments from death. Painful memories aside, it was nice to see him too. They’d been through a lot, but Paul wasn’t dumb enough to figure this was a purely social call. He knew Ludlow felt guilty about what had gone down and that was partly the reason for his visit. But it was misplaced guilt, one Disco was happy to absolve him of.
"Listen, Paul, with what happened, I..."
"Hey, it's okay. Shit happens. I'm alive. I knew what I was getting into, the risks involved. You gave me an out and I didn't take it." His voice rasped a little.
"Felt like I took a kid to a gun fight." Tom sighed, tossed back some of his beer and shook his head with a slight shrug. "But you're one helluva kid. A fucking fighter. You're a good cop, even better detective and I'm sorry I pushed you so far."
“No hard feelings, man.” Disco took a slug of his beer and shook his head as Ludlow made to speak. “I mean it. I knew what I was signing up for the second the call came in. Our jobs are shady as fuck and twice as dangerous.”
“You can say that again.” Ludlow sighed. “Still, what happened was rough, I’m glad you’re through it.”
Disco gave him a smile as they clinked bottles and Ludlow’s eyes scanned the small living room, stopping on the photo on the small shelf above the television. Paul glanced at it, looking at his and Y/N’s smiling faces as they stood in his parent’s back yard, both dressed in casual jeans and t-shirts, taken a few months before he’d been shot. A time when everything had been simpler and his life on track.
“How's the Missus?” Ludlow asked and Paul took a deep breath.
"She's, uh, she's good,” he answered, deciding not to burden Ludlow with details of their argument, “first day back today, getting her ass kicked I'm sure. Rogers told her it was training day."
"That's rough. Rogers is a hard ass.” Ludlow mused before his eyes flicked down to the beer bottle in his hand. “She er, she due back any time soon?"
Paul shrugged, “I wouldn’t expect so. Why you ask?”
“Because I don’t intend to be here when she returns.” Ludlow replied. “She wasn’t very happy to see me last time.”
At that, Paul frowned. “Last time?”
“Did no one tell you I came by the hospital?”
“Well, yeah they mentioned it but-“
“Well your girl packs a mean right hook.” Ludlow ran a hand over his jaw, almost as if he was recalling the punch he was talking about.
“Wait, what? She hit you?” Paul leaned forward, deeply concerned and slightly proud.
Tom nodded, "then said that if you died, I was next."
“Dammed, she’s vicious.” Paul couldn’t help the smirk which flicked onto his face at the thought of his girl landing one on the man sat next on the small armchair opposite him. 
But the grin soon faded as it sunk in just how downright upset and distraught she must have been to do that. For all his jokes about her being a hard ass, she wasn’t one to throw punches around for no reason, in fact, given her job, she often did everything she could to avoid altercations in any shape, stating she saw enough of it at work without seeing it in her personal life too.
"Yeah, she is and frightening. But she's got good intentions. I don't fault her. I'd have popped me one too." Ludlow shrugged.
Paul took a deep breath as he pondered what Ludlow had said. His girl had that stupid nickname “Panny” for a reason, nothing much phased her. So for her to be rattled enough to sock Ludlow in the face just goes to show exactly how distraught she had been.
None of that was news to Paul, he knew all of this, and it had been pointed out to him again earlier that day by his parents. And then, in a moment of clarity, he realised that he might be being slightly unreasonable. Whilst logically, a compromise would be to perhaps cancel their current venue and forgo the huge day they had planned and book something smaller and less flashy for a few months down the line, Paul understood that she wanted this to be the best day it could possibly be for both of them. They had fallen in love with the Shutters on the Beach from the start, and had booked it with enough time to save for their dream day, even though they could have done something smaller and been married by now.
But that was a decision they had taken together, and hadn’t taken lightly, understanding that it would mean a long wait until they said “I do”, but that wait would be worth it. So, in the grand scheme of things, whilst he might not completely agree, she was right. Another year or however long made fuck all difference, even if he didn’t necessarily want to postpone, he understood.
And damned, now he felt like a right jerk.
*****
You pulled up to the curb to your duplex and frowned as an unfamiliar black car was parked outside, one you couldn’t recall seeing before. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, resting your head back against the seat as you gave yourself a moment, trying to rid yourself of the frustration of the day.
Rogers was right, you weren't ready to come back. Not yet. Or at least not after the argument you’d had. It frustrated you entirely that this one small thing had spiralled so much as to affect your job. Never, since you'd joined the force, not even since you'd been on S.W.A.T., had you been sent home for misconduct of your behavior. That angered and frustrated you more. And right now, that frustration was leveled firmly at Paul.
You knew he was angry and upset, but so were you. You were thinking logically, wanting your wedding day to be as perfect as it could be for you both, but Paul was blinded by emotion. You understood. Of course you did, it wasn’t like you wanted to postpone, hell you wanted nothing more than to become his wife but it wasn’t worth rushing if it meant that when the time came you could both make those declarations to one another without either of you worrying his voice would give out.
And it irritated you that he couldn’t see that.
Growling out loud and slamming your palms against the wheel, you shook your head. That was when you saw him, you saw the one person you unadmittedly blamed for your mood, your position and your current situation.
"What the... That mother fu..." you stopped yourself, downright pissed at seeing Tom Ludlow leaving your residence.
You waited until Ludlow pulled away before exiting your car, slinging your 'go bag' over your shoulder from the back seat. You didn't miss your fiancé tossing what appeared to be bottles into the recycling bin at the side of the duplex.
He saw you and smiled, but you did nothing to acknowledge his gesture, allowing the screen door to slam behind you.
“Babe?” Paul’s voice called after you as he followed you in. “Sugar, look, I’m sorry-“
“What the fuck was he doing here?” You dropped your bag to the floor of the small hallway and wheeled round to face him.
"What?"
“Don’t play dumb with me! Ludlow, why was he here?” Paul sighed, "He called me while I was at my parents, wanted to come by. We talked for a bit, had a couple of beers and clearly you saw him just leave." There was a pause between you. "Which by the way I heard all about how you decked him in the hospital lobby." "The fucker deserved it. He's lucky you pulled through or I would have killed him. It would have been a clean shot too, non-traceable round. I'm not a marksman for nothing." Paul rolled his eyes, “you’re being ridiculous, this-“ he gestured to his scar, “- was not his fault.” "It was and you know it was. This is all because he didn't think you could do your job on your own." “Bullshit Y/N!” Paul shot back. "He gave me an out and I said no. He told me to go home, but I told him I knew what I was doing." You could see him flush with anger and, at his surprising admission, you were shaking in it. "He what?" "You heard me." "You fucking asshole. You stupid, stupid son of a..." you couldn't bring yourself to talk about Dot like that so you carried on, your anger raging as you railed into him. “How dare you throw that at me? You had every fucking chance to come home and let him take the fuck up on his own and you still went. You still stepped right into the fucking madness when, Tom fucking Ludlow of all the people in the entire fucking department, gave you a chance to come back to me?"
“Stop it Y/N! You know as well as I do, you don't take up the badge and go 'you know what, I might die today, imma sit this one out'!”
He had you there, he wasn't wrong. You literally growled at him, your chest rumbling. Paul sighed, and swallowed, looking down at the floor before he raised his head and licked his lips as he glanced over your shoulder for a moment before meeting your eyes.
“Listen, about the wedding-“
You groaned, “I can’t do this now.”
“Just listen to me, will you?”
“Why? So you can tell me again how you don’t want to change our wedding date? Because of your pride and..."
At that something flashed in his eyes and he took a sharp inhale through his nose.
"My pride?” His voice his voice strained harshly, "Okay, how about we discuss why you do want to change the date because you’re embarrassed. You're embarrassed of me."
His comment floored you momentarily and you frowned. “Is that what you really think? That I’m ashamed of you?”
"Feels like it."
"Pull your God damn head outta your ass, Paul."
“The only person round here with anything up their ass is you, a big fucking stick about Tom Ludlow paying me a visit.” He croaked back. “What, you want me to be sat at home, helpless, waiting for you to come back? Does that fit with the narrative of why you wanna call the wedding off? Poor Paul, he can’t manage much at the moment so-“
“Fuck you!” You screamed back. “Fucking fuck you!”
Your chest heaved, your nostrils flared. You. Were. Done. You moved to leave, but as you made towards the door, his arm shot out and his hand wrapped around your upper arm.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere you’re not!” You spat, wrenching your arm from his grasp.
He grabbed you again, this time by the waist and pinned you to the near-by wall. It wasn't painful or abusive, it was just enough roughness to keep your attention.
“Get off me.” You hissed, attempting once more to rid yourself from his grip.
“Fucking calm down!” He instructed, his hands pinned yours to the wall, his chest lifting away from your body. It reminded you of how he'd treat a suspect, enough force to maintain control but not to hurt.
His words were said through clenched teeth, his own hot breath from his nose flicking your hair a touch, he was so close. His blue eyes, full of fire, blazed into yours as the two of you stood still, chests heaving from the exertion of the shouting and anger.
He was the one to break first as he slammed his lips into yours. It stole your breath as he kept you pinned against the wall.
Eventually he pulled back and you glared at him. “Prick.”
“Shut the fuck up.” He hissed again, his voice breaking before his lips crashed back to yours. His hips ground into yours, keeping you pinned to the wall and it didn’t escape your notice that he was hard. The fucker was turned on.
But, in all honesty, no matter how pathetic it was, his display of dominance had you fluttering slightly but you were damned if you we’re going to show him that.
You felt him release your arms as his hands quickly moved to your work cargos. Your utility belt and flies were no match for his swift movements and you felt the release of their hold on you as the material flew open.
His chest and kiss kept you pinned to the wall as he undid the zipper to his denim and you quickly felt the head of his cock slip between your folds. “Seriously?” You whispered, making no attempt to stop him. “You think a fuck is gonna sort this out?”
He rutted up into you, stuffing himself right inside and jolting your body up the textured paint. The burn and stretch took your breath away, you weren’t as prepared as usual but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
"I said shut up." He growled as your arms swooped around his neck, trying to find purchase to grab and your fingers found the collar of his shirt. You gave a tug, no doubt stretching the collar but you didn't care. He thrust upward and used his hips to keep you in place as he leaned back enough to slip his shirt off, his built chest and less defined abs now on display, that necklace bouncing off his chest from the speed of his disrobing.
His eyes still blazed as you caught them in your own gaze. He looked down right feral, his skin flushed with anger. His hands flew to the hem of your navy uniform tee and in a wrench he had that over your head, his lips dropping to your collar bone and he nipped along the line, stinging bites that would no doubt leave their marks.
“Not so fucking mouthy now, are you Sugar?”
Your only reply was the 'fuck' that escaped your lips at a whimper as he spoke. The rasp of his injury mixed with the deep tone lust did to him had you fluttering in all the right places.
You weren't sure how he'd done it but your boots were unlaced and falling to the floor at his feet with a thud. You barely registered the way his fingers slipped under the hem at the leg of your cargos and slipped your socks away. He was rutting into you with such hard measure, his tongue aggressively and passionately dancing with your own. You felt a rawness against your back from the wall. He stopped kissing and fucking you long enough to tear down your pants and panties the rest of the way, leaving you in your sports bra, your nipples rock hard poking into the material. All whilst his body still pressed hard against you.
With a yelp, he lifted you and carried you the few short steps to the couch, dropping you on your ass and turning you to your knees. You caught just a glimpse of how he looked, chest naked and heaving, tattoos glistening with sweat, that look still raging in his eyes. You wagered you looked about the same because he looked how you felt. His cock glistened with your slick as he slipped right behind you, a knee on the cushion of the couch, the other boot planted into the carpet.
Without a word his hands grabbed your hips, unceremoniously repositioning you before he slammed straight back inside, jolting you forward a little as you cried out, your hands curling round the arm of the sofa, elbows locking to prevent you from falling face first into the cushions.
The angle change along your swollen walls filled you with a deep, rough pleasure and you groaned loudly as his hips rotated in a dirty grind as he bottomed out on one of his thrusts.
"Oh my... fuck..." you stuttered and behind you Paul gave a moan of his own.
“That all you got to say?” He panted, his voice cracking slightly, punctuated by his pants.
“Asshole.” You managed to whisper and with that, Paul grabbed that ponytail you sported and held tight, arching you head back towards him.
“Jesus Christ you just can’t stop can you?” His lips crashed to yours in a sloppy, filthy, tongue filled kiss before splaying his chest over your back, his hot breath against your ear as he made the most pleasurable grunts and moans, his hips pounding back and forth in a relentless rhythm.
He was close, you could feel it in the subtle rhythm change of his hips, his hand on your hip squeezing your skin, bruising it no doubt later.
"Do. It." You punctuated.
“Oh, baby girl , you should know by now,” he growled as his right hand moved from your hip, slipping around your belly and down between your legs, “not. before. you.” In no time at all his fingers had teased you to relief, your back arched as you cried out loudly, the heat and surge of your orgasm washing over you, the world spinning as you crashed over the edge.
He growled your name as he came, filling you but not stopping his relentless thrusts as if he couldn't help the automated way his body had taken over, taken you. You felt how warm your insides were at his spend, no doubt absorbing most of it. You fell forward onto the couch, his body lightly crushing you into the cushions.
As the two of you worked at recovering, his lips brushed over your skin in super soft kisses; along your shoulder, the back of your neck.
The only sound in the room were the two of you breathing heavily, a stark contrast to the screaming match you shared for the last two days. Then you felt his weight shift and a sweet kiss to the back of your neck.
"About the wedding...."
You groaned, after everything you just threw at each other and the most ridiculously, satisfying angry sex you had ever had, he wanted to start back up again. "Please don't. I don't want to argue."
He hushed you and your walls squeezed against him. He let out a low chuckle mixed with a moan. "I’m not." He kissed your shoulder. "Before you came in before like a buck shot grizzly bear, I was gonna say you were right."
You stilled and turned your head to look at Him. “I’m sorry, say that again?” You teased
He smiled and nipped at your neck, "don't be a dick."
He pulled out of you and sat down on the sofa. Your body was jello but you couldn't miss the chance to seize an opportunity to slip him back inside you and simply sit on his lap. He gave a grunt as you kissed him, soft at first, then lolled your tongue over his lips. "I'm sorry too."
“I never said I was sorry.” He playfully chuckled and this time you nipped at him, teeth grazing his jaw.
“Don’t be a dick.”
His hands moved to your hips and then up your back, pulling you against his tacky damp chest.
“Disco?”
“Sugar?”
“You don’t really think I’m ashamed of you, do you?”
"It'd crossed my mind."
"Look at me," you sat up and held his jaw in your palms. "Never, in my entire life will I ever be ashamed of you. You are the absolute strongest, bravest person I know."
"Okay."
You kissed those sweet little moles on his right cheek by his nose and just below his bottom lashes. "I love you like no other, Paul Diskant."
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and that gorgeous soft smile spread across his lips. Then you wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a kiss where you knew he'd feel and understand what you meant, what you felt. It was covered by a still healing scar, but he felt everything.
“I only want us to have the day we want, the day we deserve.” You whispered, sniffing a little as you blinked back tears.
"I'll call Shutters tomorrow. See what they can do." He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.
“Thank you.” You lay your head on back his shoulder, his arms holding you close.
***** Part 6.1
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elizabethan-memes · 3 years
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Review: The Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey
Only 3 million years late
TLDR: Overrated, IMHO. Maybe it was revolutionary at the time it was written. Saying ‘myths have staying power’ ‘historians are biased’ and ‘history is written by the winners with political motives’ are not really as ground-breakingly insightful as the author seems to think they are. Definitely not worthy of being ranked with the all-time great mystery books. It’s an entertaining read and well-written. I don’t know enough to judge the argument overall, but there are some arguments put forward that are weak. 
The good: The characters are fun and the style is easy and has a good bounce to it. I like a moment early in the story, where the main character (bed ridden with a broken leg) is reading a selection of books gifted to him, which is an opportunity for the author to poke fun at contemporary clichés and publishing trends. A sarcastic window into the world of 1951′s books. There’s a line “he marvelled how dull information is deprived of personality” which is both true and well-phrased. Also I love this cover so much:
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The bad: The whole plot gets kicked off get it it’s ironic because his leg’s broken because Alan Grant looks at Richard III’s portrait and thinks “hmm this guy doesn’t look evil”. Given that this guy is a POLICEMAN that has very troubling implications for the world of policing in the 1950s. Yes, it is true that with some terrible people they set off alarm bells in people’s heads, but that’s more the way they behave, not the way they look.
Also, it’s kind of funny that this book is banging the drum of how We Must Be Sceptical Of The Sources and Some Sources Are Propaganda.... only to treat a portrait like it’s a mugshot. Furthermore, Grant makes the baseless assumption that that portrait was painted while Richard was alive. If it wasn’t painted when he was alive, it can’t reveal very much about his true nature. If it was painted when he was alive... he probably commissioned it. Hmm I wonder why a portrait paid for by Richard III would make him look like a nice guy.....
The weak: There’s an argument about the role of Elizabeth Woodville that I countered here . 
“More had never known Richard III at all. He had indeed grown up under a Tudor administration. That book was the Bible of the whole historical world on the subject of Richard III...and except that More believed what he wrote to be true it was of no more value than [an earlier case of someone being unreliable].”
I’m with Tey on the point that More’s history is not to be depended upon factually. However, to say he had grown up under a Tudor administration is a simplification. His father was a London lawyer- and a Yorkist (a pro-Edward IV Yorkist, that is). He also attended the household of John Morton, who was Bishop of Ely in the 1480s and very much involved in what was going on. And More’s history wasn’t circulated as propaganda. In fact, the reason he discontinued it might have been because of political circumstances making it too subversive. 
Nevertheless it’s a misunderstanding of the nature of humanist history to be angry at it (and Grant is angry) for not being 100% factual. Humanist history was interested in the virtues and vices of historical figures, and the moral and political lessons to be learned from their lives. Thomas More’s Richard III- like Shakespeare’s play- is interested in the nature of evil. More is interested in how Richard III took the throne: why didn’t anyone stop him? His Richard III is a study of institutional failure: bishops fail to defend the right of sanctuary, Parliament doesn’t block him, the Queen and Hastings don’t trust each other so they fail to properly unite against him. It’s about sin: how Edward IV’s sin of lust backfires spectacularly by putting his sons in danger, and the sin of pride- Richard III is proud (but courageous) and so he rises- and then he falls. It’s not trying to be a factual story, it’s about statecraft and morality.
“According to Morton, Richard’s case had been that Edward was previously married to his mistress Elizabeth Lucy. But Elizabeth Lucy, Morton pointed out, had denied that she was ever married to the King....Why the substitution of Elizabeth Lucy for Eleanor Butler? Because he could deny with truth that Lucy was ever married to the King, but could not do the same in the case of Eleanor Butler? Surely the presumption was that it was very important to someone or other that Richard’s claim that the children were illegitimate should be shown to be untenable....that someone was presumably Henry VII. The Henry VII who had destroyed Titulus Regius and forbidden anyone to keep a copy....Henry had caused the Act to be repealed without being read...Why should it be of such importance to Henry VII? How could it matter to Henry what Richard’s rights were? It was not as if he could say: Richard’s claim was a trumped-up one, therefore mine is good.”
There is a very obvious reason for Henry doing this (that’s not the one Tey gives). He was going to marry Elizabeth of York who was the daughter of....Edward IV and Elizabeth Woodville. Are we really surprised that he would make his new wife legitimate? Making the marriage of Edward IV and Elizabeth valid again has multiple benefits:
1) It pleases the pro-Edward IV anti-Richard III Yorkists. It particularly pleases Elizabeth Woodville. Because it’s her marriage.
2) It makes his marriage and future children more impressive genealogically if they have two legitimate parents instead of one. After all, whether you’re pro- or anti-York, Elizabeth of York is still a descendant of Edward III with impressive ancestry. 
3) It throws a little extra mud on Richard III. Y’know. Henry’s dead enemy. You’d expect Tey to notice that. 
What other motive does Henry need? This motive suffices to explain it.
“There was no lack of [Yorkist heirs]. Edward’s five, George’s boy and girl. And if these were discounted, the first through illegitimacy and the second through attainder, there was another possible: his elder sister Elizabeth’s boy. Elizabeth was Duchess of Suffolk, and her son was John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln. There was, too...John of Gloucester [Richard’s illegitimate son]...It was an age when a bend sinister was accepted without grief...conquerors from then on had advertised its lack of disadvantage...how could [it] ever have occurred to anyone, Richard most of all, that the elimination of Edward’s two boys would have kept him safe from rebellion. The place was....just lousy with heirs. Swarming with focuses for disaffection.”
This, I think, suggests a lack of knowledge of primogeniture. Yes, John de la Pole was kept alive by Richard. Yes, he wasn’t a threat. To the point that Richard named de la Pole his heir after the death of Edward of Middleham. That’s because, according to the rules of primogeniture, John de la Pole was behind Richard in the order of succession. Regardless of whether or not Richard is the rightful king. Richard III comes before Elizabeth Duchess of Suffolk in the order of succession because, though he’s younger, he’s male. And because John de la Pole’s claim comes through Elizabeth, his mother, his claim comes after Richard. John of Gloucester we can discount because Richard’s unlikely to be overthrown by his own son. If Richard isn’t the rightful king, his illegitimate son sure as hell isn’t, because his claim to the throne would come through Richard!
We can discount the girls because they didn’t count in the order of succession, according to primogeniture. Yes, Henry VIII put his daughters in the line of succession but let’s not forget he had to put them in. By legislation. Because primogeniture wouldn’t assume they were heirs.
That leaves the princes in the Tower and Edward Earl of Warwick. Those 3 were the only people ahead of Richard in the order of succession. Yes, Edward Earl of Warwick was not killed by Richard III, but the question “why secretly murder the princes and not secretly murder Edward Earl of Warwick as well?” has to be asked of every potential murderer of the princes, not just Richard III. Including Henry VII, the guy Tey pins the blame on. It took him until 1499 to get rid of Warwick (who was in the Tower, no less!) , but Tey suspects Henry killed the princes in the late 1480s? Why the massive gap, if secretly murdering enemies was his MO?
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little-mad · 3 years
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Downsides of Thievery Pt. 8
~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~
Maybe after all the shit Gavin had experienced ever since he’d been dragged from his prison cell back on Earth, he should have been used to giant related weirdness. He’d been held in a fist, toted around in a cage, and pinned down to the ground by a massive hand. In theory, riding around in Rael’s hand wasn’t that much stranger in comparison. And yet, Gavin felt unimaginably uncomfortable with his current position.
It wasn’t really that Gavin felt he was in any particular danger. Weirdly enough, he actually believed Rael’s claim that he would be careful. No, he wouldn’t say he was necessarily afraid. What he was feeling had more to do with the fact that he was almost surrounded on all sides by one single person. He was sitting on Rael’s palm, with the alteon’s chest behind him and his other hand directly in front of him. Not to mention the fact that the guy’s head loomed far above, able to look down at the person in his hand whenever he wanted. Long story short, Gavin felt smothered. And what was weirder than being smothered? Being smothered by the same person who had so far expressed nothing but distaste and disinterest in him since their first meeting.
“I guess it's an improvement from threatening to crush me,” Gavin thought to himself. He supposed this was preferable. The problem was, he didn’t know how to respond to this kind of behavior. Gavin was an expert at reacting to people not liking him much. Even if he knew Rael did like him, he might have some idea of what to do and what to say. However, Gavin couldn’t make heads or tails of how the big guy felt!
“Uh, I guess I should thank you for saving me,” Gavin finally said, breaking the silence that had developed ever since they’d departed from the stream. He fidgeted, trying not to think about the fact that the thing he was sitting on was literally alive. “Maybe this would seem less weird if I’d ever ridden a horse before…”
Rael didn’t take his eyes off the path in front of him aside from shooting a quick glance down at his passenger. “I was just doing my job,” he stated.
Maybe Gavin was getting ahead of himself thinking he’d made any progress with Rael. Maybe the guy really was just doing his job, and any increased kindness Gavin had detected was just an extension of his job.
As pathetic as it undoubtedly was, Gavin didn’t want to believe Rael really didn’t give a rat’s ass about him. He was completely alone in this dimension, cut off from anyone and everyone who had given at least half a shit about him. And so maybe Gavin was desperate to find someone he could imagine was on his side. He wanted a friend, and Rael was quite literally his only option. “God, I need to snap out of it! I’m supposed to be a hardened criminal damn it!”
Gavin craned his neck to look up at Rael’s face. “Well, I gotta admit, you were pretty badass back there.” It was very uncommon for Gavin to root for any type of law enforcement, for obvious reasons, but for once he was on the side of authority. How ironic was it that he, a thief who had been undone by his own greed, had almost been abducted in order to satisfy someone else’s greed? Fate really was a funny thing, huh?
A perplexed expression crossed over Rael’s face. “Badass? That’s intended as some form of compliment, correct?”
Gavin had to stifle a chuckle. He kind of forgot the alteon only had a very vague knowledge of human slang. He suddenly felt like he was holding a conversation with Spock, Rael even had the pointy ears to match. “Yeah...it sort of means you were impressively tough,” Gavin explained.
Rael gave a small nod of understanding. “I see, well...thank you I suppose.” The little note of awkwardness in his voice was enough to cause Gavin to break out in a grin. Rael sounded like a person and not some giant robot of formality and meanness.
Unwilling to let the break in Rael’s facade go to waste, Gavin initiated his mouth’s blab feature. “You know, next to that Kaydin guy, you’re like a saint,” he started, not even realizing he was now reclining back in Rael’s palm. “I’d pick hanging out with you over him anyday.”
With a light scoff, Rael rolled his eyes. “Being preferable over a brigand like that man is not as high of praise as you seem to think it is,” he said, though his tone was lacking in any real bite.
Gavin snickered. “I guess so, but to be fair I’ve only ever met three alteons.” None of them had made an especially great impression though, so he was beginning to think a part of alteon culture was just being naturally shitty at introductions. Of course, Gavin couldn’t really judge, he wouldn’t say he was all that great at first impression either.
“I’m surprised you weren’t more taken with the ruffians, considering you’re both criminals and all,” Rael replied, a nearly imperceptible smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Hey, not all criminals get along. That is a very common misconception,” Gavin stated matter-of-factly.
Rael snorted. Gavin was surprised someone like him could even make such a casual sound. “How very educational you are,” he said, sending another brief glance down at the human in his hands.
Gavin could hardly believe what was happening. He was actually taking part in back and forth banter with Rael, the guy who had seemed like an impenetrable stone wall of crankiness. If Gavin closed his eyes and ignored the feeling of flesh beneath him, he could almost imagine he was talking to a human and not an eighty foot colossus.
-
Rael had no idea what the hell he was doing. It was almost as if he’d been possessed or something, because he never would have imagined himself engaging in repartee with a human of all people. And yet somehow, it felt so natural and effortless. Rael would never consider himself a particularly talkative person, but with Gavin carrying the bulk of the conversation, it was easy to keep banter going.
Honestly, Rael wasn’t even sure what had triggered the change in his own behavior. Perhaps seeing the human’s life threatened by another alteon had had some kind of mirror effect. It was possible that witnessing the fear Kaydin inflicted upon Gavin had given Rael a new perspective on his own threatening behaviors.
Kaydin had obviously been the villain in the scenario. Did that mean Rael was the villain in his previous interactions with Gavin? He was a member of the Imperial Guard, he was supposed to be a hero--but it was becoming increasingly clear that he hadn’t been acting as such.
“I do not get paid enough to do this much self reflection on the job,” Rael thought sourly. This whole situation would be a lot simpler if he could just keep on ignoring Gavin and disregarding his feelings. It was a shame his conscience had gotten so loud all of a sudden.
“It is kind of flattering that I’m apparently so valuable that that guy was about ready to risk it all to get his hands on me,” Gavin said. Rael looked down to see a playful smirk on the little guy’s lips.
While Gavin had obviously been intending to be humorous, Rael couldn’t help but frown slightly. It was troubling how desperate Kaydin had been to get a hold of a human. What was even more troubling, was that Rael knew the desperation was sensible. Gavin would fetch a hefty sum on the black market, and Rael could only imagine the sort of things one might want to buy a human for. After the encounter with Kaydin and his partner, Rael wouldn’t be assured of Gavin’s safety until they were within the palace walls.
“You’re currently the only human in this realm, that makes you something of a rarity,” Rael told Gavin.
Most alteons had never seen a human in real life before, and unless things changed drastically, most never would. Typically, only those close to the Emperor were able to even catch a glimpse, hence why it was something of a status symbol. Of course, Rael had never really seen it that way himself.
“I guess I should feel honored,” Gavin quipped. “Although, the fact that I’m a prisoner kind of ruins things.” Rael fought the urge to twitch as he felt the human reposition himself on his palm. He still couldn’t believe such a tiny body could hold such a large personality.
“Perhaps crime doesn’t pay quite as much as you thought,” Rael retorted. He still found it stunning that the little guy he was currently holding in his hand had managed to rob an alteon.
Gavin scoffed. “Hey, it paid just fine until I took the diplomat job.” That caught Rael’s attention. He had been under the impression that Gavin had stolen the ring from the diplomat for himself, likely with the intention of selling it. However, the way Gavin had phrased it made it seem as though he had done it at someone else’s request.
“Wait, someone hired you to steal that ring?” Rael inquired, his gaze jumping back and forth from looking ahead and looking down at Gavin.
A dry laugh came from the human as he leaned back on his hands. “Like I ever would’ve thought of stealing from an alteon myself,” he said sarcastically. “Obviously someone hired me to do it.”
Rael’s eyebrows shot up. So Gavin had just been doing someone else’s dirty work? What he’d done had still been illegal, but still, wasn’t the one who had employed him the one truly in the wrong? “You took the fall for the one who hired you?”
Gavin gave a shrug. “Not exactly, but I didn’t know the real name of the guy who gave me the job, so there was no point even bothering to tell the cops.” He said it so nonchalantly. Did he not realize he might not be in the situation he was in, being escorted to the Emperor by an alteon, had his employer been identified and arrested?
“You don’t seem to care all that much,” Rael noted.
“I chose to take the job when I didn’t have to, blaming it on someone else isn’t gonna help anything,” Gavin replied. Rael was stunned by how...mature he was being. Initially, Gavin had struck him as nothing more than an honorless thief, devoid of any sense of responsibility. And yet here he was, accepting culpability for his own actions even when there was a perfect scapegoat right there for him to blame.
“Will wonders never cease,” Rael breathed.
“What?” Gavin called up. Rael had forgotten how sensitive to even the quietest noises human ears were.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”
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dwellordream · 3 years
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“Antifeminist jest and satire against alewives, shrews, and gossip soften grouped together as gossips' literature-provides a rich site for this sort of excavation. The word gossip itself requires more careful treatment than it is usually given. Respectable for centuries, gossip (from godsip) referred primarily to a godparent of either gender. By the sixteenth century the word was being applied to any close female friend, though it was sometimes used for male friends as well. In the late sixteenth century "gossiping" described a "merry meeting" of women to drink, laugh, and talk; it was not until a century later that Johnson's Dictionary equated gossip with the obnoxious woman "who runs about tattling like women at a lying in." Early modern speakers drew important distinctions between scold and gossip. The words were by no means equivalents. 
Unlike talking about one's neighbors, scolding was a chronic, legally actionable offense; and the connotations of shrew varied from mild to damning. In Brathwait's Essaies upon the five senses (1619), a scold "goes weekly a catter-wauling, where shee spoiles their spice-cup'd gossiping with her tart-tongued calletting." Whatever those gossips are up to, the scold is wrong to spoil it. Such a distinction suggests that women had certain rights of assembly-despite all the injunctions that women should stay indoors, avoid all gadding, and strive for silence. Traveler Emmanuel Van Meteren marveled that Englishwomen spent so much time visiting their friends and keeping company, conversing with their equals (whom they term gossips) and their neighbours, and making merry with them at child-births, christenings, churchings and funerals; and all this with the permission and knowledge of their husbands, as such was the custom.
Daniel Rogers warned husbands that they would be foolish to forbid their wives to attend gossipings and even advised them to give wives money "to bestow upon the meetings and lawfull merriments of their kind, which it were a poore thing for a husband curiously to enquire after." Robert Cawdrey urged moderation rather than abstinence: gossips should meet only as often as "the law of good neighbourhood doth require." John Stephens's character "A Gossip" predictably conflates a woman's volubility and mobility with sexual and bodily incontinence. 
Her knowledge is her speech; the motive, her tongue; and the reason is her tongue also: but the subject of her eloquence is her neighbours wife, and her husband, or the neighbours wife and husband both. Shee is the mirth of marriages, and publicke meetings .... Shee carries her bladder in her braine, that is full; her braine in her tongues end, that shee empties .... Shee emulates a Lawyer in riding the circuite, and therefore she keeps a circuit in, or out of her own liberties: striving to be both one of the judges, Jury, and false witnesses: that is her freedom only, to censure .... Her truth is, to make truths and tales convertibles: tales be her substance, her conceit, her vengeance, reconcilements, and discourse .... If she railes against whoredom it savours not of devotion; for she is only married to escape the like scandall; from the doore outward.
The irony, of course, is that the author rails in the catty tones of a censorious neighbor. Despite the formulaic hostility in this character, one may glimpse a shadow portrait of a neighbor and a neighborhood. Like neighbor, the term gossip implies a relationship between peers. Always on hand for disputes and interventions, she also serves as a chief relayer of news and knowledge within the community. As the sarcastic phrase "one of the judges" indicates, she operates as an informal social arbiter. Ironically, it is precisely her narrative skill that qualifies her for this role. No matter how caustically "tittle tattle" was scorned, gossip "gave women a particular standing in neighbourhood social relations," as Gowing puts it. "Telling stories and judging morals made women the brokers of moral reputation."
While Stephens derides his gossip for gadding and tattling, he fails to suppress an uncomfortable social fact: such women can never be excluded from the crucial labor of maintaining social order. Pamphleteers and playwrights devoted much energy to trivializing women's talk at gossipings, betraying their fear that the effects on men's reputations could be far from trivial. In a merry meeting in Thomas Deloney's Thomas of Reading, some gossips "talkt of their husbands' frowardnes, some shewed their maids sluttishnes, othersome deciphered the costliness of their garments, some told many tales of their neighbors." Some jest gossips are two-faced, greedy, and leaky, such as those in Middleton's Chaste Maid in Cheapside. Others are almost witchlike. 
The author of The Gossips Greeting (1620) rants against "the proud, peevish, paultry, pernicious shee-pot companions, those curious, careless, crafty, carping curtizanicall Gossips ... dangerous as hell, / None of you beare a modest womans mind / You do infect even with your smell." These representations must be read alongside gossips' texts that are more nuanced and altogether less bilious. Samuel Rowlands's best-selling Tis Merry When Gossips Meet (1602) and A Whole Crew of Kind Gossips (1609) painted alehouse meetings with a mix of humorous voyeurism, mild satire, and unusually candid social realism. In the first pamphlet a wife and widow give a maid fairly standard advice about men and marriage. The widow buys them rounds with an evident pride in her ability to pay, providing a strong contrast to the many jests in which drunken men cheat the hostess. 
Satire is directed largely at the widow, who gets tipsy and garrulous. But for the most part, the pamphlet leaves the impression that it offered readers a glimpse of women indulging in a merry pastime that formed an important and familiar part of neighborhood socializing. To repeat Wrightson's argument, the ideal of "good neighborhood" required everyone to accept neighbors "as a reference group in matters of behavior and to promote harmonious relations among them." How could a woman fulfill this obligation without asking, "What news?" The surprising answer is that she couldn't. What we now call gossip was, in fact, essential to being a good neighbor, and talking about neighbors and strangers was not considered the prelude to scolding or near kin to slander. The obligation of neighborhood made constant comment not only normative but a prime regulating device. 
To use Merry Wives as an example, the Windsor wives' censure of Falstaff and gossip about Ford initiates action that will eventually involve their neighbors in neutralizing the threats to the common peace posed by a sexual adventurer and a horn-mad husband. Their joint consultation and campaign of mockery lie firmly in the bounds of "good neighborhood." Censorious gossip "could be an effective informal method of control: it indicated community disapproval, and shamed its subject. If the subject of gossip did not stop the behavior, at least everyone else knew what to think about it." Gossip, defined this way, could maintain and reiterate social boundaries. Fueled by curiosity and pleasure in ridicule, gossip also primed audiences to recognize the more cutting forms of wit and the aesthetically engineered moral judgment known as satire. 
Proficiency at this narrative form, so often salted with jests and proverbs, promoted rhetorical efficacy in life and art, while skill at telling believable stories about one's life and neighbors held much weight in the courtroom and on the streets. Gossip was not always conservative in effect. By asking "What news?" women also had a chance to learn about and talk over events in the larger world, out of the hearing of husbands, fathers, and masters. According to historian Steve Hindle, gossip is both a "female subculture" and a "formative stage in the development of 'public opinion' over a whole range of issues, local and national, private and public, personal and political. To ignore gossip is to ignore one of the few channels of participation in this 'public sphere' that was open to women."
Gatherings during working time or in leisure moments, such as christenings, may have given women a place in which to articulate opinions and to plan for common action, such as the many enclosure protests, grain riots, and religious disputes in which they participated. Some fictional gossips poach eagerly on male discourses supposedly closed to them, such as biblical interpretation, the worth of stage plays, and the fate of kings. In The gospelles of dystaves (c. 1510) a group of women meets secretly to hear a new kind of preaching by "apostles" named Dame Hengtyne and Dame Abunde, while a male scholar transcribes. Their chat mixes homely proverbs and bawdy laughter, interspersed with more serious challenges to religious teachings about women's subjection. 
While the pamphlet obviously satirizes ignorant and unruly women, it also suggests that women did talk together about what they heard in church and that they were given to interpreting biblical passages in favor of women's interests. Female association could be dangerous to the state: the weird sisters of Macbeth carp about their neighbors, crack jokes, practice riddling prophecy, and rearrange Scottish history. Like gossips in their cups, they "scorn male power" while "their words and bodies mock rigorous boundaries and make sport of fixed positions. " In The Staple of News, Jonson attempts to silence and discipline unruly women in his audiences by presenting caricatures of neighborhood gossips. 
Underlining the close association between the juries of the threshold and the theater, Tattle, Mirth, Censure, and Expectation boldly invade the stage with their stools, sitting down to cavil about the actors and the sweaty playwright, forming a jury of women who judge a play together as if they were judging gossip and scandal at home. Despite the satire, Jonson casts them as the prime producers and consumers of news and rumors; he cannot help but make them sharp-eyed judges of the staple, which commodifies word of mouth" by printing it. Occasionally gossips are painted as resourceful and clever. In Dekker and Webster's Westward Hal, citizen wives furnish themselves "a commodity of laughter" by leading their jealous husbands and eager suitors on a wild-goose chase up the Thames. 
As in Merry Wives, this pleasure carries a risk. When they plot to scare their husbands with the prospect of horns and turn the tables on their arrogant suitors, one wife warns the others that they must deflect any resulting slanders using shrewd foresight: tho we are merry, let's not be mad: ... It were better we should laugh at these popin-Jayes, then live in feare of their prating tongues: tho we lie all night out of the Citty, they shall not finde country wenches of us: but since we ha[ve] brought em thus far into a fooles Paradice, leave em int: the Jest shall be a stock to maintain us and our pewfellowes in laughing at christning, cryings out, and upsittings the twelvemonth. 
Similar scenes of female complicity are rooted in the social reality of women neighbors and gossips who rely heavily on each other's judgment in matters sexual and romantic. Such interdependence was especially important for unmarried women. Comedies featuring maids satirizing suitors (like Portia and Nerissa in The Merchant of Venice) or coolly ranking types of men (like Franck and Clora in Fletcher's The Captain and Celia and Rosalind in As You Like It) probably did stoke masculine anxieties about patriarchy's vulnerability to the desires of women. On the other hand, the very same scenes may have delighted women or taught them sophisticated new ways to squelch unwanted suitors. 
The antimasculinist satire and complaint that fill gossips' literature function in a distinctive way in Margaret Cavendish's Convent of Pleasure, which virtually reproduces passages from gossips' literature and from women's tirades in controversy pamphlets. Poor women meet in the street to moan about the flaws of their husbands, which include wife beating, heavy drinking, and gambling away the household funds. Other scenes show the terrors of childbed and the persecution of a gentlewoman threatened with rape by a married man whose proposals she rejects. Neighbors and friends cannot stop rapine suitors or worthless husbands in this dystopia; so Cavendish creates a gender retreat that takes female complaint seriously, dedicating her earthly paradise to women's association, education, and delight: a high-toned gossips' feast.”
- Pamela Allen Brown, “Ale and Female: Gossips as Players, Alehouse as Theater.” in Better a Shrew than a Sheep: Women, Drama, and the Culture of Jest in Early Modern England
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uservillanelle · 4 years
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Killing Eve ― 3x06 (Review)
The time has finally come for yet another review. I can’t believe we only have two more episodes and it will be the end of season 3. Seriously, Killing Eve should AT LEAST have 10 solid episodes per season as most of other shows do. It would be just enough content (more than we get now) and without having to stretch things out. Now, theres A LOT to talk about, so I’ll try my best to touch upon as many things and details as I can! So sit back, grab your tea/coffee and let’s get started!
Title cards
I covered this topic back in 3x04 review, but they did it again, and this time the title card game is somewhat different. It’s really apparent that they are experimenting with editing and trying new things and that’s good, because we know that not only they want characters to develop, but to improve and change the editing and production of the show itself.
It was a bit unusual when they swapped from location titles to character names back in 3x04, but this time it was actually fun. I mean “PISS OFF FOREVER?!” This cracked me up sooo bad, I had to rewatch it several times lmao!! And don’t even try to tell me that they left Niko alive for THIS. It’s not the first time he rejects Eve and wants to get away from her, so what is the point of that scene with him? We didn’t get any new information or knowledge. So... I’ll call that waste of precious screen time which, in this case, should be dedicated for Eve’s personal character story because hell, she’s the one who deserves it the most.
Then they did it again with CUBA/NOT CUBA and honestly it cracked me up, AGAIN! I actually loved they did something like this, even though it kind of gave this comedy type of feel knowing how dark and complicated this show actually is. And of course the “THIS IS BULLSHIT” was exactly what Oksana said at the meeting with Helene not so long ago, so them reflecting on that and showing the phrase as a title is so relatable and at the same time kind of expresses how Oksana feels and what she thinks. 
So far they haven’t really decided as to what kind of editing style they are going for, but I do hope that at the end of this season they realize how they will carry the show onwards starting with season 4, because them keeping this up and changing things constantly is not a good thing. Many people find it annoying and really, they aren’t used to any of that, so I hope season 4 will have a more consistent style when it comes to editing and carrying the main storylines, ect!
Niko (ft. Eve)
There isn’t really much to talk about here, other than... Niko being alive makes NO sense, whatsoever. I personally wasn’t expecting to see him being killed off or anything similar to that, but since they basically PITCHFORKED him, just let him die, okay? There is NO way he could’ve possibly survived something like this and that means they have to have a VERY big reason that would, you know, justify him surviving so fans can “ignore” the fact that it doesn’t make sense to begin with. So far, they didn’t provide any reason for that. Niko didn’t say anything useful to Eve... nor did Eve. She was just rejected again and had a confrontation with Niko’s uncle, I believe. Wow, someone of his family members don’t like Eve. What a shocker, right? 
One of the very few options that I could see happening and making sense is for Niko to be alive and for Eve to make a decision and choose Villanelle over him. Not because she lost everybody and she’s the only one she has left, but to be able to choose her because she WANTS to. Instead, what did we see? We saw a very desperate and determined Eve who’s willing to go that extra mile to find whoever hurt Niko. Despite everything, a part of her still has hope for them even now so maaybe, after those fancy “PISS OFF FOREVER” words, Eve will finally come to her senses? Even though most of following scenes had her feeling the same way. So I really have no idea what else to expect and why Niko is still there. 
There’s also a theory going around about how Eve should pull the plug and kill her husband lol. I mean, that way, their conversation from the very first episode about how Eve could kill Niko and that storyline could come full circle, but given what we saw of Eve and her values and mental state.. yeah I don’t see her doing that anytime soon, or ever, in fact. She’s still clinging to Niko somewhat and she must go REALLY wild and dark in order to do something like this. Though, I must admit... I kind of would love to see it as well! At the end of the day we all want dark!Eve to rise... and she is getting there, believe me!
Villanelle & Helene
I’m very conflicted about this duo. Especially after watching the promo/preview of upcoming episode. Yeah... I’m just going to throw it out there. I think Villanelle will end up killing Helene. The meeting wasn’t exactly successful, as Dasha of course lied to Villanelle about having all the control or probably, the description of a Keeper is quite different to Helene and Dasha than what Villanelle already knew about it thanks to Konstantin. So.. could it be that back in 1x07 Konstantin lied to her? Or that Dasha told Helene something different to get Villanelle in line and believing she is actually “moving up” in the world? Honestly, still much to think about.
I LOVED Villanelle’s, or should I say, Oksana’s outfit during the meeting and especially how big of a mess her hair was. I mean the hair perfectly reflects her inner state and yeah, she IS  a mess and she has every reason to be. Someone previously mentioned how Villanelle was the one who went to Russia, but it was Oksana who left it and now I’m starting to really see and feel just how true it is. I mean this episode was almost all Oksana, except a couple of moments where she tried her best to keep her defenses up, for instance being sarcastic with Helene. “Are you trying to seduce me?” I mean... I wouldn’t mind them getting some.. buut, it’s not going to happen. Still, those lines were hilarious as much as they were iconic and yeah, in that moment she was trying to play her main character, which is Villanelle but as soon as she spotted the post card it was over. Oksana took over and she freaked out. The bad thing about this is that she is very emotional and very vulnerable right now, her mind and emotions are all over the place and that could be why she didn’t really think about Dasha being the one who lied to her? Or maybe she did think about it but we aren’t aware of it yet? This can’t mean anything good and I am honestly concerned for her. 
What else I noticed from that scene is that Helene was quite open in terms of deciding to speak to her daughter I’m guessing, in front of Villanelle while not really you know, feeling like she could be in danger? Despite the fact that she is literally standing in front of a killer. I guess she is really used to that and her job is meeting a lot of assassins and other dangerous people? And then there is Villanelle who keeps asking her all kinds of questions, silly or not, she did ask whether Helene was her real name and yet she didn’t answer. In fact, she didn’t answer any of Villanelle’s questions and that is again, concerning. So maybe Helene isn’t her name, but that’s kind of ironic, knowing that Villanelle isn’t really her name either. So yeah, seeing Helene be so...cool around Villanelle especially while she was freaking the fuck out should say something and that probably means she knows exactly how to handle such people and situations like this. I’ll definitely keep my eyes on her from now on. 
Eve
Our precious Eve is finally getting some quality screen time. Not enough, but at least she’s getting some. What I absolutely LOVED about her in this episode is just how confident and sure she is about Villanelle not being the one who hurt Niko. Yeah, let’s remember that the last time she and Villanelle saw each other was on the damn bus where they had a major fight and a kiss. That was Villanelle and she was such a smug asshole there and everything and thinking about this now, it’s completely different person from who Oksana is and it’s mindblowing actually. So to think that Eve didn’t consider Villanelle being the one who hurt Niko, despite there not being ANY evidence that state that is just... their connection is simply incredible. No matter how many times Villanelle and Eve end up hurting each other, they STILL have this hidden trust within each other that I find extremely fascinating and then Eve gets the photos of Bertha Kruger and of course, that’s what Villanelle was doing while Eve was in Poland coming to visit Niko. I’m glad that there is this alibi in Villanelle’s defense to show that she was doing something else, KILLING someone else at the time and the fact that Eve thought that it was Villanelle who killed her, even if she did it in a “nice” way... is beyond me. There is really no one else who knows and understands Villanelle/Oksana better than Eve. Period. 
Another important aspect that is worth mentioning is the fact that the writers are kind of robbing Eve of screen time and character development. We haven’t seen her much this season and especially during the previous couple of episodes and even in this one it seems like Carolyn got more screen time than she did and Villanelle as well, who JUST had her solo episode, which is kind of unfair. However, I do think Villanelle deserved to have her own episode now since her character is going through such a huge change, meanwhile Eve is going through her thing, but it doesn’t feel like it’s as huge and as extreme as it is for Villanelle. At least that’s what they’re showing us. But yeah, I think season 2 was way more about exploring Eve’s inner darkness than this season, which is more about acceptance of her dark self and her feelings for Villanelle. Let’s just trust the writers and see how they will handle Eve’s character during the next remaining episodes and only then we can actually judge the crew and the lack of screen time Eve received, because really, what I noticed this season is that Suzanne really wanted to show EVERY character and so far she has been sucessful in that for the most part, with one flaw, that is the screen time management and yeah, we shall see how that aspect is handled in the next episodes!
Villanelle & Konstantin
So we got the hockey game scene. I’m glad to know that Konstantin didn’t set Oksana up by sending her to some strangers. One of the highlights of their conversation was Konstantin’s comment about Oksana’s mother who he thought was INSANE rather than evil and was hoping for Oksana to awknowledge it instead of killing her. Guess she didn’t really consider it as an option? But does that mean then that Oksana as just as insane and isn’t aware of it just like Tatiana wasn’t? At the same time we know that Oksana KNOWS there is something wrong with her, at least that’s what everybody else keeps telling her, so I wouldn’t call her insane. At the same time seeing that Konstantin wanted to give this chance for Oksana to get some kind of closure by being with her family and especially her mother does show just how much he cares about her. Until... their conversation shifts. Again.
So apparently Oksana knows about Konstantin’s plan to “get out” and she is suddenly interested in joining him. Now this part of the conversation PAINFULLY reminds me of their last interaction of season 2 finale. Especially the part where Konstantin chooses his family instead of Villanelle, who is ALSO his family, whether he admits it or not. They might not be related by blood, but he IS her father and seeing not only her own mother reject her but her father as well will do things to you. So again, Konstantin leaning towards choosing to leave with Irina and leaving Oksana behind only to promise her that he will come and get her is not enough. He betrayed her several times... he left her at the prison in season 1 even though he “tried” to get her out of it. He betrayed her at the end of season 2 by choosing his family over her, and now... now it feels like ANOTHER betrayal is coming and to be completely honest I don’t think Oksana can handle so much rejection at the moment. Of course, Konstantin can’t just pick Oksana over his own daughter, but it’s wrong to play with her like that. She killed her own mother and left her blood family in order to get back to her REAL family who is Konstantin and Irina and neither of them show enough of determination to bring her along which really saddens me. I mean Oksana went through enough as it is... I’m not sure how she will get through this if Konstantin will leave her again... and I won’t have it either. They better not do it again.
Villanelle & Irina (ft. Konstantin) 
I just love, love, LOOVE these two together. I mean 1x08 is one of the most iconic Killing Eve episodes and they are the biggest reason why. I’ve been waiting for them to get together again and those a couple of scenes they got to spend together didn’t disappoint. I LIVE for their interactions. I mean what can be better than two sisters bonding? Especially when it’s Vasiliev sisters. Them fighting like true siblings do, having fun while both of them having this insanely chaotic driving session and at the same time touching upon going to CUBA as well as finding out Irina’s feelings towards her own mom and her boyfriend, who Villanelle doesn’t see any reason NOT to encourage her to kill him lmao! I mean, first Irina sarcastically calls Villanelle a “real role model” and 15 seconds later she is literally driving over her step-father LOL! I mean... I am SO proud of her. She really did take her sisters advice on this without much of thinking and at the same time I am kind of concerned about her. We all saw Konstantin’s reaction to her driving over the guy and well... that’s not exactly the best thing to do.
In Oksana’s defense, I do think she was trying to be helpful in giving Irina this advice, since we all know that’s how she normally chooses to solve problems. By killing. Plus, I don’t think she actually expected Irina to take her advice either way. Let’s take Tatianas case for example. Yes, it’s a lot different because she was mentally abusing Oksana for years and there was lack of affection and all that, so Tatiana definitely deserved it. In Irina’s case... she’s just “disgusted” of seeing her mom with her boyfriend all the damn time and I don’t think she should’ve killed anyone for that. Besides, she was already preparing to leave with Konstantin so what’s the point? She wouldn’t have to put up with them anymore, yet she did it anyways. And what stands out for me about this is that we see Oksana not wanting to do any of that anymore, no more killing, just wanting to get out of this assassin thing meanwhile Irina just had her first kill. Kind of beautiful in a way, of having one of them ready to quit this way of life while having one of them indirectly influence and push the other into the beginning of such dangerous path. And from the looks of it, Irina didn’t seem to feel bad for driving over her step-father, like AT ALL. So I wouldn’t blame Oksana for the whole thing. Yes, she planted the idea in Irina’s head but it was her who actually did it and didn’t feel bad about it.
This whole dynamic just makes me want to remember the lunch scene in 1x08 where Villanelle asks Irina “Are you a bad person?” “I don’t know yet” well, guess now we are starting to see the person she is becoming and yeah I don’t think any of us saw this coming, that their previous conversation could be a foreshadowing in this way!. I’m VERY glad they decided to bring Yuli back this season since she is one of fan favorites and like I said, the dynamic between Villanelle and Irina is just great!
Konstantin, on the other hand... guy is in serious DEEP shit this season and now having to witness his actual daughter kill someone... yeah, I think having to handle Oksana is complicated enough and she alone manages to drive him mad so now the idea of having TWO mentally unstable daughters... yup, it’s time to do something about this. At the same time I kind of see the parallel between Oksana and Irina and how they could be reflecting one another. Tatiana wasn’t there for Oksana most of the time and didn’t show her any affection, ect. Konstantin is of course not as bad as Tatiana was, but the fact is, is that he is not really there for Irina. She’s not really getting as much of his attention and love as Oksana gets from him since she’s so demanding. So it makes sense for Irina to become more like Oksana, having them both be neglected by their parents in a way.
ALSO!!! Is it just me or is Konstantin the FATHER of the entire show lol?! A lot of people thought that he might be the one who killed Kenny. Now, all out of sudden he might actually be his father?! Yes, the thought did cross my mind but I never expected them to address it in that way. So... based on Carolyn’s forried look and silence that followed afterwards... this is the confirmation? Konstantin is Kenny’s dad then? Or maybe Carolyn isn’t sure of that either? Life is SO much more complicated in Killing Eve, I swear lol! Then there’s the thing with Geraldine... not sure where they are getting with this yet. Feels like we don’t really know anything about Geraldine just yet and really.. so far it just seems like she has daddy issues which could explain her amazing bond with her father and him not being there anymore. (I assume he died). Funny enough, we see Oksana having mommy issues. Yes. It is a thing now. And I’m not very excited to see where Konstantin/Geraldine thing is going... 
Carolyn (ft. Geraldine)
We finally get to see Carolyn uncovering more information about Kenny’s case and actually it brings more questions than answers if you think about it. Kenny calling Konstantin, him possibly being his father, Geraldine kissing Konstantin and so on. This is suuch a mess. 
The long awaited conversation with Geraldine gave us more insight as to why Carolyn is so cold towards her daughter and I get it. Really. What I don’t realy get is the fact that Geraldine decided to not mention Konstantin coming to visit her while insisting her mother to talk about Kenny. If she wants them to be truly open about things and just have a honest conversation, she has to open up about other things as well. That includes Konstantin. And gosh, she better tell the truth in the next episode because I’ve had enough with all the lies. Plus the season is almost over and we hardly know anything about her. Please, Suzanne, don’t let us down on this!
Eve & Dasha
I just love how easily Eve teleported to Barcelona lol! I’ve been also waiting for their face off and it happened. I was expecting something a lot more... crazier, physical, but all they did was basically annoy each other by fighting over VILLANELLE and their importance in her life while having this bowling match. The fact that Eve has NEVER done it before makes the whole winning aspect sooo much more delicious and come on, Eve just HAD to notice how Dasha missed one of her strikes as soon as she mentioned that Niko was still alive. Makes me wonder if its THAT easy for someone to throw Dasha off her game, yet she’s soo narcissistic and so ahead of herself. 
Eve’s trust in Villanelle continues to AMAZE me, like no matter what Dasha told her she STILL denied all of her bullshit as if it was nothing and that is coming from someone who had only met Villanelle a handful of times. This is such a nice parallel to season 2 finale where Carolyn told Eve that Villanelle wouldn’t do the same for her. Not only did Eve figure out who Dasha was and that Villanelle was working for her, but she actually went to Barcelona to confront Dasha like that and call her out without much of hesitation. Again, Dasha mentioned “killing” Eve and that is concerning. There is a reason Carolyn told Eve that Dasha ended up killing one of her own... and that, I feel, is huge foreshadowing for upcoming episodes. Dasha IS the problem and she will cause even more. Honestly, I’m afraid she might do something to Villanelle or Konstantin for that matter. After all, she DID kill one of her own to save her own ass and I bet she can and will try to do it again.
Villanelle/Oksana (ft. Dasha)
To put it lightly, Oksana is a mess. She is going through a LOT. We’ve never seen her this vulnerable and emotional before and she has EVERY reason to feel this way. Now, it is sad that people seem to be struggling to separate Villanelle from Oksana. Like I’ve mentioned in my previous post, this episode was almost 95% Oksana and the rest 5% of her trying her best to look somewhat like her old self mostly at the meeting with Helene and during her next kill. After killing her own mother, she doesn’t see or feel the same way about killing. At least not right now. It’s a lot more difficult for her to turn her emotions off now that they are so intense and she can’t focus clearly. She is becoming sloppy at her job and she doesn’t want to do any of it anymore. Now that I’m thinking about it, we’ve seen more of Villanelle so far than we have of Oksana. The previous two seasons we saw only this confident persona that Oksana has created with several occasions where her real self comes to surface. And this season it’s all about peeling those layers, of slowly peeling away Villanelle and getting to meet Oksana. So, we are sooo used to seeing Villanelle in action, her interact with people that we can’t see her being emotional, let alone crying. It’s not like her. Because it’s NOT her. It’s Oksana and don’t know her enough to know what she is like and what is in character for her. Truth is, she is vulnerable, hurt and in pain. She is going through the death of her mother, the loss of her family, the loss of control and being manipulated (again)  by others in doing something for them. It all was building up and now she can’t escape those feelings anymore and she wants to quit. 
I feel like this time she REALLY means it. She really wants to quit and she is willing to give away EVERYTHING. The apartment, the clothes.. and EVE. The first time I’ve watched the scene I got really concerned and scared... because that means Villanelle is willing to leave Eve like that. At the same time I started to realize that this is sooo much bigger than Eve or them being together. This is Oksana wanting to have a new life... and she wants it so bad, she is willing to leave Eve behind. This, right here.. it called CHARACTER GROWTH and I am soo proud of her for reaching this point, of wanting this life, wanting something for HERSELF even if it means giving away everything she loves. That’s when you know she is being serious about it. So maybe this will turn out to be a good thing... maybe when Eve will notice and find out about this... she will be even more willing to accept her feelings for Oksana and they might end up just running away together because they can and because both of them want for this bullshit to end.
Now, Konstantin told Villanelle to NOT tell anyone about their escape plan. She promised not to do it but then she had a breakdown and ended up telling it to Dasha.Such a BAD move. I mean.. Dasha is the last person she was supposed to tell this to... and I’m sure it will cause major problems. Dasha will get someone killed and I don’t blame Oksana. She’s not in the right state of mind and really, if she haven’t told it to Dasha, we probably wouldn’t have as much action and drama happening in the next remaining episodes. So will see. But I really do hope Dasha will fail at whatever she will try to do.
I’ve probably said it plenty of times but Jodie Comer’s acting STRIKES AGAIN! So many powerful performances delivered each single episode, I am speechless and I really don’t know what else to say. Just see it for yourselves. She deserves another Emmy and more! 
Villaneve screen time
This is not really a part of a specific episode review, but more like me wanting to point something out. It’s been 6 episodes already and we only got ONE Villaneve scene. The bus scene. The kiss scene. Yeah, it was mindblowing and amazing but that’s not enough. And something tells me they might not even meet in next episode.. only see each other at the very end of the episode and that’s on it’s own upsetting... I mean I dare to say, even season 1 had more Villaneve screen time than season 3 has. I’m not even talking about season 2, where literally they spend together half of a season together occasionally meeeting up. This show IS about them and their dynamic and how can we have it if they are not interacting together? I get that this season is more focused on character development and them evolving separatelly, but Villaneve still has to be a thing... and they better give us the entire finale filled with Villaneve quality content or else... after all, they ARE the main plot of the show for me and there’s that. 
Overall Thoughts
Another solid Killing Eve episode. Since they have only 8 episodes, they can allow themselves to make such rich, intense and filled with information/action type of episodes and it shows. There were a couple of weaker episodes, but overall this season is getting stronger with each episode and I am very nervous as I am scared and excited for the remaining two! 
As always guys, if you have any theories or thoughts about this episode, Killing Eve in general or anything else, feel free to jump in my ask box or message me directly, I’d love to chat!!
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ice-cream-nekogirl · 4 years
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lights will guide you home (Tokoyami Fumikage X Reader) PART 1
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I’m back ya’ll~. Serving ya’ll up with some ANGST!! 
I’ve been wanting to try my hand at making a semi-long story consisting of some bittersweet angst with my bird boi Tokoyami~. I dunno, I heard about three different songs and for some reason they made me think about him, the mood of the song I guess... but I hope ya’ll enjoy~.
Summary: “This will be so much fun.” You had said before and during the Summer Training Camp because you were going to be with your crush Tokoyami, but... things happen.
And it finds me The fight inside is coursing through my veins And it's raging The fight inside is hurting me again And it finds me The war within me pulls me under And without you The fight inside is breaking me again 
-’Fight Inside’ Red
The red woman from Game of Thrones liked to say that ‘the night was dark and full of terrors’, but tonight the night was dark, but cool and serene. The moonlight lit up the darkness provided by the night sky as you looked up with a melancholic glance and a bittersweet glimmer in your eyes.
Something about the light that made you comfortable even though the darkness could also be soothing. However, you assumed that it had to do with your light-based quirk. You could see light in many things, even in the gloomiest and haziest of situations.
Light is what made everything clearer, light is what allowed you to see things when everything was too dim or too hazy, whether it was in a dark room or a dark memory.
Light was your clarity.
And clarity was something you had slowly gained over the past week after everything that’s happened to you.
It’s only been a week and yet you could still remember everything that happened at the Summer Training Camp. Everything.
The good memories and the bad ones. No, how could you forget the good memories? You were with your friends, you were training hard alongside them and you were with Tokoyami. The boy you’ve had feelings for since the first time you met in class.
It was awkward at first, but it helped that you weren’t much of a talker yourself, so the small moments you and he spent indulging in a little bit of small talk over things like quirks, music, horror movies and Gerard Way were moments you loved. You feared that you sounded dumb at times but the raven never judged you, he had a lot of respect for you and you especially respected the hell out of him too.
Then there was Dark Shadow, who was oddly just as kind as his host was, just much more expressive and childish. But sweet, you adored the shadow and never hesitated to give him head pats and scratchies, much to Tokoyami’s immense embarrassment as he would try to make Dark Shadow stop acting like such a needy dog. It was moments like that that made you adore him all the more, him and his quirk.
He was such a chivalrous and kind boy, no ulterior motive to him whatsoever. He had no real vices that you could think of, nor was he a pervert.
You liked him, you liked him a lot.
Part of you almost believed that he knew it too, because after all Tokoyami was a smart guy even if his grades didn’t always show it. And you weren’t wrong, he did know it, but didn’t have the heart to confront you about it because he didn’t know how he would talk to you about it. Also, it stemmed from insecurity that he wouldn’t be able to be a good potential partner to you, so he was perfectly content with being a good friend to you and always being there for you.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t gain feelings for you too. Something about your kindness, the light in your eyes and your little giggle whenever you were excited. How he loved to hear you laugh...
The most mirthful sound that the gods could never replicate...
Unlike him, you had no idea if he felt anything else for you other than friendship, but you knew that he valued you and cared about you. And for now that was enough for you. Moments with him like that you cherished and adored, and it didn’t stop when you and he trained with the rest of your classmates at the summer camp.
But of course, there were the bad memories too. How could you forget those? You desperately wanted to but you couldn’t…
LAST WEEK…
You were so excited for this Test of Courage challenge as you giggled a little bit and stood by Tokoyami and Shouji, “Isn’t this exciting? I’ve always wanted to do something like this. And I have a feeling that this will be so much fun~…!” You whispered to the two males, both looking as expressionless as ever but that was just their natural default look and they paid their full attention to you.
“Revelry in the dark.” Tokoyami nodded in agreement and repeated that little phrase he’d been uttering, and this was the fourth time as you giggled at this. And just hearing it made his heart flutter a little bit and he couldn't help but feel just a little more bashful.
“It’ll certainly allow us to practice awareness of our surroundings.” Shouji also agreed with you as you smiled and gave him a thumbs up, “Totally… I need to work on that more. But I think I’ll be okay, whoever’s sneaking around won’t be able to get me. Not when I can… light em up~.”
You brought your hand out to create a small ball of light thanks to your quirk ‘Light Construct’ which let you control light and use it to make anything, but you favored making balls, a sword and wings. It was useful in combat to blind opponents especially.
Ah it was something Tokoyami was still fascinated with despite his penchant for the darkness. Your quirk was something positive, which was kind of ironic given your sarcastic sense of humor. Still, Tokoyami knew your heart and he admired how your quirk reflected that, because sometimes you could light up the darkness in his gloomy world. Literally and figuratively.
“I trust they won’t be able to sneak up on you (L/N). Not with your power. Light is what draws the terrors out of the shadows. If anyone can win this game, you can.” He said with admiration in his tone which made you blush and smile, “Hehe, true that~ And thank you!”
As much as you wanted to keep chatting, you had to do this thing and you had to go to Izuku since he was your partner, “Good luck Tokoyami. Shouji. I’ll see ya’ll back at the place, maybe before we go to sleep we can either listen to some MCR or watch the Cabin in the Woods on my phone and discuss which of our classmates would be the classic horror archetypes and who would get killed first.” You said with a little smirk which made Tokoyami chuckle a little bit. There’s no way he was turning down that offer.
“I would like that.” He said politely as Shouji nodded while you walked off with Izuku.
Shouji was well aware that his friend clearly had a crush on you, so he would do his best to be the wingman for him. And Dark Shadow for that matter.
‘You got a crush on (L/N)~!’
Tokoyami could hear him already teasing him telepathically, and although he wasn’t one to be flustered, such a (correct) accusation still embarrassed him as he could feel heat rising on his cheeks. ‘B-Be quiet! I do not…’ He claimed, but his shadow knew better and he wouldn’t shut up about it even as he and Shouji left to go into the trees.
You were smiling as you made your way to Izuku…
At least… until it became clear that something was very, VERY wrong and it all happened so fast that you had no idea what was going on until Mandalay sent everyone a message and urged everyone to go back to the pro-heroes and fight back if necessary.
You were ready to do so, but then Izuku told you to just go to the rest of our classmates and try to help them out as much as possible and let him find Kota to take him back to the place. So you did and activated your light wings.
Oh no, you should have stood with Izuku because you had no idea what he was doing or what kind of danger was looming over him. You should have stood with him, you should have…
But you also had to look around for your classmates, you had to find Ochako, you had to find Tsuyu, you had to find Shouji, you had to find Tokoyami…
Tokoyami…
Where were they? Why was it so dark? Dammit, your quirk worked better when it was daytime with the sun, and although the moonlight helped your wings weren’t as bright as they normally were in the daylight.
But then something sharp suddenly pierced through the air and just in time you moved away before it could cut through your skin although your wings automatically dissipated in that moment of distraction and you hit the ground with an ‘OOF!’
“(L/N)?! Is that you?!”
You sat back up when you heard Tokoyami. He saw the light and knew that belonged to your quirk so you were quick to get up to go follow their voices, “I’m here! I’m here!” You ran to both the males and Dark Shadow who were alert and waiting for the lurking villain to come out of hiding.
“Be careful (L/N)…” Shouji quietly whispered to you with one of his mouths as you nodded and brought your hand up to try and see if you could find this punk who was hiding. “What the fuck was that…?” You quietly whispered as you stood among your two friends.
“We don’t know. Stay alert though… this person’s quirk is long-range.” Tokoyami replied to you while he and Dark Shadow were still on alert, uncertain just what was going on, but he just knew that whoever this guy was, he was close and he had a long-range quirk based on the fact that he attacked you while you were in mid-air.
If what Mandalay said was true then there really were villains in the midst, and that meant there was one right now in the dark. Anything can attack you in the dark, because the dark played tricks on people…
You were proven correct when one of the same blades you saw nearly sliced through Tokoyami until Shouji quickly pushed him back to take the attack at the cost of one of his arms.
“Shouji!”
“Shouji!”
You and Tokoyami cried out his name as you activated your wings to become a distraction and get that villain away from him, you couldn’t let Shouji or Tokoyami get hurt. You had to protect them both.
“HEY!” So you called out the villain as you flew, “Show your face you pussy!” You outright challenged whoever this villain was if it meant getting him away from your friends but you gasped when you saw only a glimpse of his face under the dim moonlight... 
His teeth were like blades and his face was ugly, body bounded by a black straight jacket as he gave a raspy chuckle, “Flesh, flesh, sweet soft flesh!!” The man cackled as another blade came your way so suddenly out of the shadows and stabbed you right into your shoulder.
“GYAH!!” You couldn’t stop the agonized shout leaving you as the pain made your wings evaporate, “(L/N)!!”
You heard Tokoyami scream for you as you fell, he wanted to reach out for you but he stopped as soon as he saw Shouji retreat out of the bushes so he could catch you. Shouji was hurt… one of his arms was gone… your shoulder was bleeding…
As you grunted in Shouji’s arms you clutched at your bleeding wound, “(L/N) are you…?” But before Shouji could even ask if you were okay, his eyes started to widen when he saw the rage in his friend’s eyes, his quirk manifesting in a blind fury and festering rapidly.
How dare they? How dare they hurt his friends? How dare they hurt someone so good and kind? How dare they hurt you?
This villain… he could not be forgiven…
“I’ll... KILL YOU...!!” As his shadow roared, Tokoyami didn’t hesitate to let him attack as soon as that villain reappeared to try and attack him, and an enraged Dark Shadow struck with such brutal force that the tree his claw smashed was broken in half without a bloody mess occupying it.
The villain was fast, he kept moving even as the shadow attacked him again and again until he grew larger and all the more outraged as he let out an otherworldly roar much to the horror of you and Shouji.
“T-Tokoyami!”
You couldn’t help but reach out to him and cry out for him, as if hoping that calling for him would snap him out of his rage. Wide, shocked red eyes met your terrified, worried (E/C) ones as it momentarily brought him back as you started to smile a little bit…
Only for that to fade into a horrified look when Dark Shadow continued to roar and tried to viciously swipe at you, but Shouji quickly grabbed you and jumped away just in time before the shadow could mash you into a bloody paste.
Tokoyami shouted when for a moment, he thought his quirk was going to kill you and Shouji, but to his relief you both got away, but he couldn’t stop it… he couldn’t stop Dark Shadow, he couldn’t control him anymore.
It was raging…
It was raging so angrily, so violently no matter how hard Tokoyami tried to get him to stop…
He couldn’t stop it…
“Tokoyami…” You whispered sadly as Shouji carried you and ran away from the incensed shadow so neither of you would get hurt. It broke your heart but you knew that it was the right thing to do.
You both needed to hide.
“(L/N)… you’re hurt… can you move…?” Once you and Shouji were away far enough from Dark Shadow, he inspected your wounds as you weakly nodded. “I-It hurts like a bitch but… I’m okay… I-I can… I gotta keep going…”
He didn’t protest to this, because he knew that even through pain you tried to pull through things. And he thought that maybe, just maybe you and he could save Tokoyami and stop Dark Shadow before he spirals further out of control.
Dammit, you wanted to try and help but, in the darkness, and in this thick forest of trees the moonlight couldn’t give you enough light for you to generate a light bright enough. Shouji didn’t blame you though, you couldn’t help your quirk’s limitations.
You just had to find someone like Todoroki or Bakugou…
A blessing in disguise met you as you held onto Shouji when he heard Izuku coming and quickly, he swooped in to get him out of the way when Dark Shadow’s claw nearly got him too.
“Shouji! (L/N)!”
The first thing he noticed what that you and Shouji were injured, but that was also what you and he also noticed on Izuku.
“What the fuck Midoriya…? Your arms are fucked up even more…” Despite your cursing, there was nothing comical in your tone. And Shouji knew it as he commented on how his injuries were not normal at all.
But then you both quickly told him what was really going on at the moment, and how dire the situation was with Tokoyami as the three of you all saw him, engulfed by the power of his Dark Shadow.
“STAY AWAY… FROM ME…! YOU’LL DIE!!”
You furrowed your brows when you saw him like that, stuck, powerless and taking a backseat at the mercy of Dark Shadow. That quirk was that powerful without any light, and it honestly terrified you and had you scared for your friend…
“Tokoyami, no!”
As Izuku shouted for his friend, the three of you had to remain hidden so neither of you got turned into paste. You were shuddering as you stood behind Shouji, albeit also quietly fretting over how horribly injured Izuku was.
This was supposed to be fun… why was this all happening…?
You thought in horror until Shouji told Izuku how this happened and how Dark Shadow went berserk in accordance with Tokoyami’s anger, indignation and remorse altogether. It was both horrifying and fascinating how this kind of power exploded without any light as you could hear the shadow roar and smashing through trees and thick branches.
All it took was a small snap from a twig Shouji accidentally stepped on and WHOOSH, the shadow struck fast but your friend moved swiftly as you grabbed onto him to get away. The shadow became a beast, whatever sound was made, whatever move anything unfortunate enough to get in its way would be attacked, killed…
“FORGET ABOUT ME…! GO…! FIND OUR CLASSMATES… PROTECT THEM INSTEAD…!”
Tokoyami’s desperate shouting made your heart ache as he tried to made Dark Shadow to stop and begged him to calm dow, how could you just leave him like this? It didn’t feel right. No, this was wrong… you needed to go save Bakugou from getting taken by the villains but you couldn’t just leave him like this…
Wrong… it felt so wrong…
“If we can bring him to a fire back to camp…” You could hear some of Shouji’s words, but not all of them as you were both really scared and really worried that you almost didn’t hear what they were saying. But you knew what the plan was, after you explained to Izuku that you couldn’t do it because of the weak lighting not being enough to make a light strong enough...
Nonetheless, the three of you made a plan to save both Tokoyami and Bakugo. It was crazy as hell and possibly suicidal but at this point it was all the three of you had. Your wings would guide these two to camp, and also allow Dark Shadow to follow you.
Was it insane? Absolutely?
Were you reluctant to do this? Duh. It’s highly likely that you were going to die now. 
Were you doing this for Tokoyami? Hell yes…
“The things I do for love.”
You quietly groaned to yourself you glanced over at Izuku and Shouji, “If we die for Bakugou Midoriya I’m gonna kill you.”
As if to put SOME light on this situation you had to say at least SOMETHING kinda funny, which the boys noticed and gave you a weak chuckle before the three of started to move…
FAST…
As your wings lit up, this didn’t go unnoticed by Dark Shadow the second he saw light, something he hated the most and wanted to destroy…
“WORTHLESS LITTLE FIREFLY!!”
The shadow bellowed as soon as it saw your wings and he struck but you moved fast in terror, and you couldn’t see the horrified look on Tokoyami’s already distressed face as he struggled and shouted at the mercy of his shadow.
“NO! (L/N)! Get out of here!! What are you doing?! Fly away!!”
What were you doing? Couldn’t you see that he was dangerous? Run away (Y/N)! You’re going to get hurt!
And you were so afraid of that happening but you couldn’t stop now, you had to save Tokoyami and protect your friends and your classmates.
“We’re going to save you Tokoyami! It’s all right!!”
So you tried, you really tried to shout out to your friend in hopes that it could at least give him a little bit ease and it worked… but it wasn’t enough as Dark Shadow kept rampaging and destroying everything it it’s path as you shouted and had to dodge some of the flying debris.
“Leave me (L/N)!! Please!! Save yourselves!!”
“I’m not leaving you!!”
You shouted with tears in your eyes as soon as you saw the tears streaming down his face, you’ve never seen him cry before, let alone show this much emotion…
But you gasped and winched when a large branch nearly hit you and it urged you to fly away as fast as you could and followed Shouji holding Izuku. The moonlight was your only source of power now and you prayed that it didn’t fail you as you kept going, keeping an eye on your friends and glancing down to make sure Dark Shadow didn’t get them.
“YOU’RE IN THE WAY!!”
A vicious, furious roar reverberated through the air as your (E/C) eyes went wide and a rush of horror began to stream through your veins as you gasped when you saw the ginormous entity right behind you. He was so close that you could barely react on time.
“(L/N)!! Look out!!” Shouji and Izuku shouted when they looked back to see your flight slowing down when your nerves got the better of you.
“(L/N)!! GET AWAY!!”
You were so scared you didn’t hear Tokoyami’s desperate screams for you to fly, fly away far away from him until his pained and struggling shouts snapped you out of it.
Flapping through the cool air, he chased you and he wouldn’t stop... 
SLASH! SLASH!!
Sharpness cut through your flesh as you let out a sharp scream as your wings of light instantly vanished when the keen claw tore the skin on your back and across your abdomen you could feel gravity pushing you down. Consciousness beginning to slip as you didn’t even see Dark Shadow’s claw coming for you…
“DARK SHADOW STOP!! PLEASE DON’T!!”
You blinked slowly when you heard your friend’s voice but everything went black as soon as the claw back-handed you out of the sky and sent your body flying far away from your friends as they all screamed for you.
“(L/N)!!!”
But you couldn’t hear them anymore as you just felt yourself flying and whooshing through the air as you grunted and shouted with every branch you made contact with stabbing your body. Until finally your cut-up back and the back of your head made a hard, violent impact with the back of a dense tree trunk.
“AH…!”
Your eyes went wide as you blacked out entirely and fell back to the earth once more in a thicket, eyes closing shut as the pain clouded your being.
There was no light. 
Nothing at all, just a heavy shroud of darkness, dusty haze clouding your mind and the distant screams of your friends…
TO BE CONTINUED...
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saiilorstars · 4 years
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It Had To Be You
Ch.16: I’m Crazy For You // Story Masterlist
Fandom: The Flash
Pairings: Barry Allen x Original Female Character
Pronunciation of OC’s name: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.
~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~
Chapter Summary: Caitlin prompts Barry to start facing his thoughts regarding Belén. Some of those thoughts are actually feelings and Caitlin might have a way to make it so that Barry can come to a conclusion. If only either of them knew what plans Belén made for her dating life a while ago.
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"Pay up!" Belén laughed and held her hand out to her older sister. "Hey, just remember that it was you who wanted to play Monopoly. I just wanted to watch a movie."
With a glare, Maritza handed the required cash over to Belén. "You are so cheating."
"See this is why I don't like playing games with you - you are a sad sore loser!"
Maritza gasped in offence while Belén counted her fake Monopoly cash. Suddenly, her cell phone went off. She picked it up beside her and took the call without even seeing the ID. "Yellow?" she said then blinked ghastly. "Oh my, that was such a dorky thing to say. Forget I ever said that please-"
While Maritza could not hear who was on the other line, she had a good idea who it might be judging by the sudden rapidness in Belén to leave the house. There went her tenth attempt to have a proper family night.
"Where are you going?" Maritza called but Belén was already halfway towards the door.
"I, uh, completely forgot I had to go help Caitlin with, uh...painting!"
"Painting?"
"And drinking!" Belén closed the door behind her, figuring that excuse could be valid. She rushed off the porch steps and ran down to the streets where, in a couple more seconds, she turned into nothing but vines and went towards her destination.
~ 0 ~
An upturned car under a livewire was the center of the needed appearance of the vigilantes. A couple was trapped inside, and neither could figure out how to get out of it. Outside there were several firemen arriving on the spot to help.
There was a tap on the passenger seat, and the woman glanced to see a woman in green smiling kindly from the other side. "Hang on, we're gonna get you out."
While Belén worked on her side, Barry stood on the other side intending on helping the man there out. Using his vibration methods, he was able to get the driver's door off its hinges and thus the man out as well. Meanwhile, Belén was using her thick vines to pull the door off its hinges. As Barry took the man out of the car and brought him towards the firemen, Belén reached in for the woman.
"You'll be okay now," Barry promised the young man who literally feared for his life.
Just as Barry glanced back towards the car to see how Belén was doing, a spark from the livewire managed to touch spilled gasoline on the ground. A great flame sprouted that quickly spread towards the car and immediately caused an explosion.
The man beside Barry nearly lost it thinking his girlfriend had been consumed by the flames. Barry was in a similar state thinking Belén had not been fast enough. In his mindset, he forgot who they were at the moment and where they were as he called out to her. "Bells!"
"You know, the whole point of having secret identities is so people won't know who you are," he heard a perfectly calm voice behind. When he turned around there stood his partner with a scared woman beside her, both untouched from the flames.
"Dana!" the rescued man called with great relief as his girlfriend ran to his side.
Barry wasted no time in coming up to Belén to inspect her for any noticeable injuries. When he saw nothing, he gave her great, big hug. Surprised, Belén just laughed.
"Thank you," the phrase from the saved man cut their moment short.
"You're welcome," Belén cheerfully waved them goodbye before taking off with Barry.
~ 0 ~
Once the two metas were back at STAR Labs, Cisco got to work on a mildly charred suit.
"Dude. That was insane," Cisco was still in awe over the recent incident. "I mean, that was just...wow! Although," he sobered a little then, "I'm having trouble understanding how you dirtied up my suit while Bells here came out without a single mark."
"Mm, that's because girls are neater," Belén called from the computer desk where she, Caitlin and Dr. Wells were.
Barry, who sat nearer Cisco, frowned. "That's not true for every guy."
"Yeah, it is. Look, my brother was a slob and he was a genius. My dad, same story. Cisco, I'm sorry but it's true as well. And you, Barry, are the same story. Don't forget I stayed in your old room for sometime. You're all slobs!"
Caitlin snickered from the side, while Barry and Cisco exchanged unamused looks.
"I think perhaps it's time to call it a day," Dr. Wells declared after a minute, eyeing them all with a slight smile. "Proper rest is what you all need."
As he left the room, Cisco came up with an alternative option. ""Better yet, what we all need is a proper drink. Who's up for a round?"
Barry got up and went up to his draped jacket left near his suit. "Oh, dude, it's... It's movie night with Joe. I can't. But I'll see you guys tomorrow, all right?"
"Yeah, I can't either," Caitlin shook her head, getting ready to leave as well.
"I'll go," volunteered Belén, having Cisco perk up instantly. "I don't feel like playing monopoly anymore. I could do with a drink."
"Excellent," Cisco pointed at her. "And I know your favorites!"
"I'm not drinking vodka, though!"
Silently, Barry watched them go back and forth about what drinks they would be buying. He couldn't understand it yet, but he didn't feel too ecstatic about the two going out...on their own. Why would they need to go out on their own anyways? Why couldn't they wait until they all went out as a group instead?
"Barry," Caitlin's call made him snap out of his thoughts. He looked at her with slight widened eyes. "Your phone is ringing," she pointed.
"Oh," he fished out his phone from his pocket and saw Joe's name on the ID. "It's Joe, I'm late. I should...go…" Caitlin smiled and nodded for him to leave, but as he left he kept throwing looks back at Belén and Cisco who were in deep conversation of where they were going.
Caitlin waited for the two to sort of end that conversation so she could get to something important before she too left. "Cisco?" she called and grabbed his attention. "Funny thing, I was looking for my tablet at your workstation, and I found this." She held up his tablet that was on an article of F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M.
Cisco blinked rapidly. "I can explain. I know you said we should stop looking for Ronnie, so I... didn't stop looking for Ronnie."
Belén giggled at his honesty.
Caitlin was in no mood to laugh at the moment. "Why?"
"Hartley. He said he knew what happened to Ronnie-"
"Oh, Hartley Rathaway, who is currently locked up in our super-villain basement jail for going psycho with sound waves?"
"Yeah, he's not a very reliable source," Belén apologetically looked to Cisco.
"He's made some poor choices. There's no argument there," Cisco nodded his head in agreement. "But I looked into what he was saying and…"
"Cisco," Caitlin interjected, "Ronnie's gone, and it's time for me to move on with my life,"
Cisco looked at her a moment before mumbling. "Doesn't seem like it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Look, I'm not an expert on love, but I think in order to move on from Ronnie, you actually have to move on."
"And he means that in the nicest way possible," Belén added after an awkward pause, throwing Cisco a warning look to stop talking. He did, and with the nicest smile possible, Belén led him out of the room, leaving Caitlin to ponder on Cisco's last words.
~ 0 ~
Next morning, early morning, Iron Heights became the new spot for a CCPD crime scene. Barry inspected the lonesome cell that once belonged to a Clay Parker who, as of last night, had mysteriously made an escape without needing to unlock the cell door. There was no clue as to how he did it.
"Hey," Joe walked into the cell holding a small notepad in hand. "The security cameras in half the prison are shut down. Then Clay Parker, according to this data log, who was still locked in his cell, somehow vanishes."
"Not completely," Barry shook his head, coming to show Joe a small vial that seemed to contain black specs of some sort.
Joe eyed the vial. "What's that?"
"It's some kind of organic particulate residual. I found it on the floor in here, just outside the cell, out in the hallway. Trail led me all the way outside…" Barry stopped at the sight of his father walking in from the corridor. "Dad!"
Henry chuckled at his son as he was given a hug. "So... Word around here is, Parker pulled a Shawshank?"
Joe nodded. "Yep, and none of the other prisoners heard or saw anything."
"Well, they wouldn't talk to you about it."
"Leaves us with not a lot to go on," Barry sighed, though he could not feel an ounce sad about it when he had his father right in front of it.
"Well, if there's anyone who can figure out how Parker got out of here, it's you, Son," Henry smiled.
The guard that had brought Henry by rugged him by the arm. "Come on, Allen, let's go."
"Duty calls," Henry sarcastically told the other two.
Barry waved him goodbye then turned to Joe suspiciously. "So, my dad just happened to come by?"
"The guard owed me a favor," Joe shrugged.
"Thank you," Barry sighed, for once actually happy.
~ 0 ~
"Where are you going?" Belén asked Noah when she saw the young man leaving his desk to accompany two other of their colleagues.
"Working on the new escape case in Iron Heights," Noah studied Belén's reaction. "You...don't know about it?"
"I know about it but not that we were working on it," Belén clarified, rising from her chair to look at the other two colleagues behind Noah. "Why wasn't I asked to join?"
One of the colleagues, a middle aged man, gave her a scornful look. "We figured you wouldn't want to tell us anything you knew of."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Belén frowned.
The second colleague, a brunette woman, responded equally rude. "Since you don't want to let CC Picture News in on anything why bother to write with us?"
Belén blinked, but said nothing more. She knew exactly what they were talking about then. Noah gave her an apologetic look before following the other two away. A couple minutes later arrived Iris, who more or less assumed what had happened.
"I can't believe they're still holding my own kidnapping over my head," Belén plopped back on her chair. "I can't take more of this I swear."
Iris comfortingly patted her shoulder. "It'll blow over, you'll see."
Belén scoffed. "It's been weeks now, Iris, and they still won't give it up."
"Give what up?" Linda walked by and stopped at the sight of Belén. "What's happened to you?"
"They still think Belén is holding back on them with her kidnapping details," Iris explained, but Linda remained unfazed.
"Still?" she looked at Belén again. "Well, we are dealing with journalists. It's their job to hammer people down."
"But she says she does not know anything," Iris then spoke lower about the real problem. "She didn't actually meet the Flash."
Linda sighed, but she looked almost as disbelieving as the rest. "Well, maybe Belén is...you know, holding out. Which I Would totally understand considering the parahnas we have around here."
Belén looked up to Linda with a disappointed face. "Thanks, Linda, my mentor and she isn't on my side."
"Oh calm down," Linda playfully rolled her eyes. "I'll see what I can do, but you'll have to toughen up in the meantime and, you know, it wouldn't hurt to come up with a killer story for this week."
"There's no way to do that when they won't let me into the group anyways," Belén huffed as Linda walked away, letting her head drop into her desk. Iris came back and amusingly smiled at her friend while trying to cheer he up a little.
~ 0 ~
Figuring there was something overly odd in this case, Barry and Joe moved to STAR Labs for some help. They pulled up on a computer the evidence Barry had found in the cell.
"Not even Barry's cells move this fast. I've never seen anything like it," Caitlin remarked in awe.
"So Clay Parker is a meta-human?" Joe asked for some confirmation.
"Not so fast. The particulate residue Barry gathered at Iron Heights does contain Clay Parker's DNA, but also DNA of a woman," Dr. Wells revealed and made everyone look back at the screen to see for their selves.
"Run her DNA against the CCPD criminal database," instructed Barry. "See if you get a match."
Cisco typed for a moment before exclaiming, "Yahtzee!" and pulled up a profile of a young, dark-skinned, woman on the screen. "Her name's Shawna Baez. Mostly petty crimes, and this girl likes to party, apparently. Long list of disorderly conducts at local bars."
"So I'm guessing we find her, we find Clay Parker," Joe concluded.
"Yeah," Barry moved to leave with Joe.
Wells did the same with his team. "In the meantime, let's track these particulates and see how they work."
"I'll be right with you guys," Cisco called towards them, but after they left he moved in an entirely different direction...towards the pipeline.
~ 0 ~
Later that evening, Barry met Iris for some coffee before going home. He was pleasantly surprised to see Belén arriving with Iris. He realized he hadn't seen Belén all day since last night...when she went for drinks with Cisco. The mere thought put him in a mood he did not yet understand why.
"What's your smile about?" Iris greeted him with that.
"I saw my dad today. No glass, no phones. Just me and him, face-to-face," he shared delightfully. "Joe arranged it,"
Iris smiled softly. "That must have been amazing, Barry."
"Yeah. I really needed it."
"Were you there investigating the breakout?" Belén curiously wondered as she walked to their table with a to-go cup tray.
"Mm-hmm," it was then that Barry noticed something was off with her.
"That is a big story," she sighed, sliding Iris her cup. "That I am not a part of."
"Why not?"
Belén wondered if it was right to tell him considering it had a lot to do with him, well...most of it. Iris saw no problem in sharing for her.
"The editor and the writers think she's holding out on the deets of her kidnapping."
"Which I told them a gazillion times I'm not," Belén clarified meaningfully to him.
"But no one believes her," Iris finished for her. "They think she knows the Flash and is just hiding it. They want the story. Even Linda seems to doubt her."
"Yeah, but I'm okay with her - I know her," Belén waved that one off. "Plus, she would never do what the others are doing to me. She's a good colleague."
"Uh, hello?" Iris sarcastically waved at her.
"Along with Iris West," Belén added with a small smile. "And, I guess, Noah. But other than them I'm screwed. I really think I could lose my job if this keeps up."
"What can we do?" Barry quickly asked, but Belén knew what he really meant. What could he, as the Flash, do to help her?
"Nothing," Belén gave him a sharp look. She didn't want him to do anything on her behalf that could jeopardize his secret identity.
"I think what Linda said is true," Iris said, missing the exchange of looks. "I bet if Bells writes a killer story about this recent breakout in Iron Heights, this will blow over." Unfortunately, while Iris seemed sure, Belén failed to do the same.
~ 0 ~
Caitlin moved to the computer desk after seeing Belén and Barry coming in. She had found something interesting she needed to show them in case they came across either Shawna or Clay, or perhaps both.
"Little down, Bells?" Caitlin asked as she turned the computer on.
"Nothing to worry about," Belén discarded it, much more interested in what Caitlin had to show them.
"I was analyzing the particulates that Clay Parker and Shawna Baez left behind, and I found something very interesting," she began to explain. "When Clay's cells come into contact with Shawna's, they adopt her properties," she began biting her lip endlessly that both Belén and Barry had noticed in a snap.
Amused, Barry asked, "Something bothering you?"
Caitlin let go of her lip and looked at them. "Why would you ask that?"
Belén chuckled. "Because you're doing that biting your lower lip thing that you do when something's bothering you."
Caitlin cleared her throat and straightened up, looking positively offended. "Cisco basically said I don't have a life! And Bells was there as a witness."
The pointed finger her way made Belén chuckle. "He said it in the nicest way possible."
"There is no nice way to say that!"
"But, I mean," Barry awkwardly coughed, "You don't, do you?"
Caitlin frowned. "I do! I cook and I eat and I read and I help you guys-"
"So, what you're saying is, you do everything that has nothing to do with having a life."
This time, Belén smacked him on the arm. "And he means that in the nicest way possible."
Caitlin grumbled, crossing her arms. Barry chuckled. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm not doing any better than you. My social life consists of running at superhuman speed and Netflix."
"I'm more or less the same," agreed Belén with a weary sigh. "The only good thing right now is me getting my practice on with the aerial dance team. Oh, and, Hulu is much better."
Caitlin was about to declare them all losers when the computer chimed an alert. "There's an armed robbery in progress. Two suspects, male and female in their 20s. Sounds like our meta-human Bonnie and Clyde are at it again."
"We should go," Belén started for her suit.
"How could you think Hulu is better than Netflix?" Barry still found time to ask about that as he followed her. "It has commercials!"
"Then pay you cheapskate!"
"It's free on Netflix!"
Caitlin smiled to herself while the two metas went back and forth. She was just glad they were able to get a move on despite ending on disagreeing sides.
~ 0 ~
Shawna and her recently freed boyfriend, Clay, were certainly in action stealing money from a bank truck. While Clay kept the driver and passenger of the truck occupied via gun point, Shawna grabbed two full bags of money and teleported to their getaway car. When she finished placing the bags in the trunk, she heard a wind pick up and looked around to see the Flash.
"Oh, I've read about you," she mused, putting her hands in her back pockets like it was a casual moment. "You're The Flash. I've heard you're real fast. Let's see if it's true." She teleported a distance behind Barry, calling out, "Catch me if you can."
Barry took the easy challenge and sped up behind her, easily grabbing her. "I can."
Shawna rolled her eyes and teleported again, this time appearing on a staircase landing of a construction building.
"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Barry groaned. Perhaps he could have instead taken up the task of getting Clay and the two civilians, but Belén had quickly volunteered to do so herself. So, he sped up to the landing but the moment he touched Shawna she teleported, and this time with him, to the second floor. Hanging awkwardly from the rails, Shawna smirked down at him.
"Not too many men can keep up with me," she waved and teleported near the car again.
"Then let's make it a ladies' fight," Belén had appeared beside her and flat out punched Shawna across the face. "I can disappear too, you know."
Shawna, clutching her cheek, got back up with a fury of danger. She teleported behind Belén and effectively kicked her on the back. She wished she had some sort of weapon to have a better defence.
Belén whirled around, angry herself. "Well!" She felt the other side of her powers absorb that anger to turn it into something else. You can't lose control, you can't, she told herself repeatedly. She flexed her hands and took in deep breaths in hopes of calming that side down.
She didn't get the chance to actually retaliate when she heard a ringing shot behind her. Halfway turning, Barry pushed her out of the way and the two rolled to a stop on the ground. Belén blinked rapidly out of shock and looked up at Barry. Their closeness factored in pretty fast for the two but their masks were enough to hide their red faces.
"Your arm..." Belén gasped when she saw the bullet embedded in Barry's right arm.
"What...?" he got off her and spotted the bullet in his arm. He'd barely felt the thing!
~ 0 ~
Caitlin was not an ounce happy treating a particular injury on Barry. "This is a bullet wound," she declared as if repeating it would make it more severe. "You're lucky it just barely grazed the skin."
Barry took her scolding silently, more or less bored. Meanwhile, Belén who stood on his side, looked more concern for the both of them. "I thought I knocked Clay out," she said once again, "I don't understand how he was up and ready to shoot me."
"We're thankful he didn't," Dr. Wells said, less concerned and less upset than both women.
"Barry, I'm sorry," Belén turned to him. "That is the last time you literally take a bullet for me, okay?" she blamed herself for being so focused on her powers. She missed the obvious - a man with a gun - and nearly caused her friend to get shot.
"It's no problem," Barry shrugged as he grabbed his jacket lying on the end of the bed. "I don't even feel anything."
"I owe you big time," Belén sighed, thinking of how long that list must be by now.
"It's fine, Bells," Barry said for the last time before going into their main discovery of the day. "Shawna Baez. She can teleport."
Caitlin blinked. "As in, 'Beam me up, Shawna'?"
Wells seemed much more excited as he laughed. "Yes, of course. Quantum entanglement. The ability to manipulate interconnected particles over an infinite distance. Or, as Einstein put it, 'spooky action at a distance'."
"Every time I got close, she'd disappear," Barry sighed. "It was like we were playing a game of…"
"Peek-a-boo!" Caitlin suddenly exclaimed, receiving odd looks from the trio. "Come on. Can't I name one?"
Belén smiled at her a moment then moved on. "How can we capture someone if we don't know where she's gonna be?"
"Everybody has limits," Wells reminded. "Now that we know Shawna's powers, we'll focus on those limits."
"That would be great," Belén sighed, now more determined than ever to capture Shawna.
"C'mon Bells," Cisco led her out the room. "Let's just get you home, yeah? It's all fine."
"Mhm," the woman gave a small nod as they left.
"I told her I was fine," Barry said after it was just him and Caitlin. "Why did she go off with Cisco again?"
Caitlin smiled to herself, something Barry caught, as she returned to the cortex. "Any particular reason why that's bothersome?"
"I didn't - no, I didn't mean it like that," Barry came walking after her. "I was just...I was just asking a question-"
Caitlin bumped into him when she turned around, surprising him in the process. "Really? So that face is just meant to be casual?"
"I - Caitlin!"
Caitlin chuckled as she went around the desk. "It looks like I'm the winning the bet after all."
"What bet?" Barry frowned at her.
She sheepishly smiled and pushed some of her hair behind her ears. "Well, don't get mad, but, um...Cisco, Dr. Wells and I made a bet about you and Belén."
"What?" Barry's frown further deepened and was mixed in with some offence. "How...this is a joke right? Right?"
Caitlin shook her head. "I thought it was a playful thing, you know. But I ended up winning. Three months and you're ready to ask her out!"
"Caitlin Snow I never thought you were capable of such a thing!" Barry turned away, mostly because his face was getting warm and red.
"I know," Caitlin said, but her laughter made her sound not that apologetic about it. "But if you ask me about it, I think you and Belén would make a nice couple."
"Caitlin..." Barry gave her a sideways glance, "I'm not...asking...no. I...I'm not."
"Why not?" Caitlin earnestly asked.
Barry gave a little smile, almost nervously laughing. "We're not actually doing this, right?"
"Doing what?"
"Talking about...this?"
"We don't have to," Caitlin raised her hands, showing him this was all up to him. "I just gave my opinion, but no one is forcing you to do anything you don't want to."
"Well, it's not that I wouldn't like to..." Barry swayed his head, really trying to ignore how warm his face felt. He had been admittedly thinking a little more about Belén than any other friend. In a very short time he discovered she was incredibly sweet, quirky and she definitely rambled a lot. He liked when she rambled a lot. "She's...she's my friend..." She was a really good friend...and perhaps that was the problem. There was a risk that maybe Belén didn't even see him that way and it would just end their friendship if he did anything beyond that. "What if I end up ruining it by actually asking her out?"
Caitlin warmly smiled. "Being scared is normal, especially if it is between friends. But I guess you just have to ask yourself if you really want to try things with Belén - do you think it's worth it?"
"I...I don't know," Barry felt terrible answering. "I've only just started thinking about this. I'm not sure about anything."
"Then just think about it," Caitlin said. "No rush at all."
"Yeah," Barry nodded, really intending on doing that. He bid her goodnight and returned home. He found the West residence completely empty. Joe and Iris must be still working. He found the kitchen empty and, unfortunately, empty of food as well. After a moment's pause, he pulled out his phone and dialed for Caitlin.
"Hello? Still need to talk?"
Barry playfully rolled his eyes. "Ha, ha, no. I just wanted to know what bars did Shawna go to again?"
"Uh, mostly south side dive bars. Why?"
"I was just gonna check 'em out. See if they fall into any old habits."
"That's a good idea...mind if I join you?"
"Sure!"
The two exchanged details of their first stop before hanging. Just as Caitlin was about to put her phone down she got another idea. Oh, she was being sneaky and she was never sneaky. Cisco might have been proud of her right there.
~ 0 ~
The bar Barry chose had a karaoke stand where literally anyone could get up on and unfortunately not everyone who went up had the right singing voice. He was having himself a drink, just for show considering he couldn't actually get drunk, while watching a man attempt to sing. He was on alert for Caitlin who was supposed to be coming in any moment now. So, when he saw not Caitlin but Belén crossing through the doors, nicely dressed, he nearly choked on his drink.
"Bells…?"
Belén seemed just as surprised as Barry was when she saw him. Still, she scurried through the bar towards Barry's table in a pair of black heeled shoes. "Barry, hi," she said rather breathlessly as she set her purse down.
"What are you...doing here?" Barry couldn't help giving her a look-over. She was dressed in an off-the-shoulder emerald blouse with short sleeves, tucked underneath a black leather skirt. Her lips were painted a deep red which were twisted into a smile. It was quite a sight.
"Caitlin called," Belén answered, never noticing that her appearance was being checked out. It's also why she missed Barry's face falling flat when she mentioned Caitlin's name,
Caitlin you sneak, Barry silently cursed.
Belén pushed back some of her curled hair after taking the seat next to Barry. "She was in a hurry but she said if I wanted to go out and since I wanted to get away from Maritza I said yes in a heartbeat. I guess she just forgot to mention you were here too."
"Is that a problem?" Barry asked, momentarily confused.
"No," Belén laughed. "Although now I'm self conscious of my clothing choices. I guess this is metahuman work time?"
"No, no, you look nice," Barry assured, and by the third look over Belén caught on and blushed.
"So tell me, what are we doing?" she cast a look towards the karaoke stand. "That looks...interesting..."
"Uh, well, so far just...listening," Barry pretended to flinch when the singing man didn't hit a high key the right way.
"Guys!" they heard Caitlin calling for them. She arrived wearing a tight, shiny black dress with her curled hair. With a beam she plopped down across them.
"Thanks for half explaining things to me," Belén mocked a scold.
"This is where Shawna Baez and Clay Parker used to hang out?" Caitlin looked around but discreetly smiled at Barry. There was no shame in pushing a little, she told herself after she made the call to Belén.
"It is, according to the files," Barry nodded.
"Is that what we're doing?" Belén said glumly as she looked down at her clothes. "Man, I could have worn jeans for this."
"I thought we could kill two birds with one stone," Caitlin shrugged.
"And what would that be?"
"Look for them and get ourselves back out there," Caitlin announced, startling the two. Yes, maybe she was pushing a little but it was fair game as long as she did not disclose anything both Barry and Belén had told her about them.
This surprised Belén, and for some reason she glanced at Barry. "You want to date?" she definitely did not mean to ask that in a disappointed manner. The words just came out of her mouth before she could even think.
Barry blinked, caught off guard by her question. "Uh - well, n-not...not e-exactly…"
"Oh, c'mon!" Caitlin ignored their awkward moment and reached for the drink Barry had been mindlessly drinking. "I'm pining for someone who bursts into flames and wants nothing to do with me, Belén's a bit traumatized from her last relationship and Barry's not gathered enough courage to ask someone out. We're kind of - for a lack of a better word - losers."
"Well, I mean, she's not wrong - wait, you want to ask someone out?" Belén had just processed all of Caitlin's words and now looked at Barry again.
"What? You're afraid of moving on from Carlton!" was Barry's genius response.
Caitlin buried her nose into the drink that wasn't even hers. She might have gotten a little carried away there. Whoops.
"Well, I think I'm justified," Belén said, mildly offended. "My last boyfriend kidnapped me. That's far worse than anything. Your petty fears are nothing. Girl's going to be lucky," she looked down at the table, processing the way she felt at the moment. She didn't want to say she was upset or anything just because Barry was thinking about asking someone out, but...yeah, she might be actually.
Caitlin had finished the glass in her hand and shifted on her chair to call a nearby waitress. ""Excuse me? I would like to start a tab."
"Oh, this cannot go well," Belén mumbled to Barry.
True to her word, Belén was witness to a different version of Caitlin...a much more drunk version of Caitlin. She and Barry tried stopping Caitlin at one point but she was adamant to keep going and to have some fun. Belén went up to the bar counter in an effort to get some water for Caitlin, but she had to wait for the bartender to get rid of other customers. Barry had volunteered first but for some reason the bartender seemed to ignore his calls. Still, Belén was taking an awful long time, so much that eventually Barry went over to check on her.
"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, taking a seat on the empty stool beside her.
"Long line," Belén gestured to the crowd at the end of the counter. "Um, where's Caitlin?"
"At the table," Barry pointed to...their empty table.
"Where is she!?" Belén straightened up, ready to jump off and go in search for their drunken friend.
There was a noise from the stage up ahead and next thing they knew, someone was calling for…
"Mr. Barry Allen! Come on down! Or up!" Caitlin giggled to herself, using the microphone to sustain herself.
Belén covered her mouth with her hand to hide her growing smile. She was wrong- this could possibly end well.
Barry, mortified with the extra attention he was now getting from the audience, repeatedly rejected the idea. "I'm not doing it…"
"Come up here with me!" Caitlin insisted, motioning with a hand for him to come over. "Oh, come show 'em what you got!"
Barry did a cutting motion across his neck, shaking his own head. "No...n-no…"
Caitlin refused to take a 'No' and called upon the audience to encourage him on. She was a relentless drunk by the looks of it. "Barry! Barry! Barry!"
Barry rubbed his face, thinking of an evil way to get back at Caitlin for all of this. He owed her a lot tonight! Suddenly, he heard a distinct voice joining the cheering crowd. He dropped his hand and glanced to his side to see Belén teasingly smiling his way, actively cheering.
"No, not you too…" he shook his head.
Belén laughed, gently pushing him forwards. "Go on, Barry!"
Caitlin raised a fist pump into the air when she saw him coming up to the stage. "Ooh, look at him go. He's so fast!" she slapped a finger to her lips and made an 'Oops' face as he stepped on.
Barry shook his head at her. "You know I'm not much of a singer. And you're not much of a drinker."
"We are gonna bring this place down!"
Barry could not see himself getting away from this situation anytime soon. "Okay, just…"
Belén made herself comfortable on her stool as the song 'Summer Nights' began playing. She was not surprised to hear Caitlin singing off key - it was rather amusing. She pulled out her phone in time to catch the singing session.
"Summer lovin', had me a blast…"
"Summer lovin' happened so fast, I met a girl, crazy for me…"
Belén was shocked to hear Barry's perfect singing voice. In comparison to Caitlin, it sounded like Barry had been practicing forever. She abandoned her teasing plans - sort of - and listened to the entire song.
When the song was over, she purposely cleared her throat loudly. "You're fast, you're a scientist and you can sing?" Barry responded in a light chuckle, not realizing Caitlin was lagging in catching up. "I'm starting to think you are the triple threat here."
"No...no," Barry sat down beside her, blushing red as she laughed.
"I'm so happy I can show this moment to everyone else tomorrow," Belén waved her phone in front of him, showing him the video of him and Caitlin singing.
Barry's eyes widened in alarm. "No!" Belén jerked her hand to her chest before he could snatch her phone away. "You are….evil!" Barry couldn't find the right words to express his horror.
"Mm, I think I was more...smart...or clever...no wait, that's the same thing," Belén tilted her head as she thought out loud. "I wonder what I would be like if I was evil?"
"You can't be evil," Barry flat out told her, almost laughing at the idea.
"What? Why?" Belén eyed Caitlin who was failing to show up because she had stopped at a random person's table. They would eventually have to go get her.
"Because you're too sweet to be evil."
Belén felt her face warm up at the comment, and so she smiled. "Aw, thank you."
"Guys! Look who I found!" Caitlin exclaimed, making them look over to see her walking with Noah and Linda.
"Hey!" Belén beamed at the sight of her two colleagues, missing the sort of disappointed look on Barry's face. "What are you guys doing here!?"
"Noah owed me a drink," Linda shrugged.
"For what?"
"My team losssst," the man glumly said, although there was something quite off about him.
"He's kinda drunk," Linda mocked a whisper tone as she explained.
"Ah," Belén eyed her indeed drunken co-worker with some amusement. "I think he and Caitlin are about to hit it off then."
"We were about to leave…" Linda grabbed Noah by the arm but the man shook her off and stumbled his way to the counter, howling towards the bartender to give him another round.
"Don't you dare, Stevie," Linda called to the bartender who was halfway down before she told him to go away.
"Guys," Caitlin's face had suddenly turned pale, and she placed a hand on her stomach, "I don't feel so well."
Both her friends could easily see she had finally reached her drinking limit. Barry nodded, half reluctant, towards Belén signifying he would take care of it. "C'mon, Cait," he quickly got up and hurried out the door, speeding away once they were outside before she would end up vomiting.
"Woah, where'd your friends go?" Noah laughed and took Barry's place beside Belén.
"Noah," Belén chuckled, placing an elbow on the counter to rest her cheek on her palm. "I think it's time for you to go home too."
"Yeah, I'm gonna go close the tab," Linda said, moving towards Stevie the bartender.
"I thought you said drinks were on Noah?" Belén glanced back.
"You really think I'm gonna let him pay right now?" Linda shook her head. "I do have honor, Belén."
Chuckling, Belén returned her attention to Noah, squealing when she saw him so close to her face. "Noah! You scared me!"
"I like your eyes, you have pretty eyes," he remarked without a car in the world.
Belén smiled. "And you have a freckle on your nose. We're all discovering new things about our friends tonight apparently," her smile widened as she thought of Barry and his apparent singing talent.
"What color are your eyes, Belén? Are they black?"
"No, they're brown. And sit back down before you fall!"
Noah ignored her and continued asking questions of her facial features. "Your cheeks are pink!"
"Because it's hot here! Now sit down-"
"You have straight teeth too!" Noah poked Belén's cheek which made her laugh.
"I should take a video of you and show it to you tomorrow," she thought out loud. "I'm just scoring videos tonight!"
"Belén, I like your lips too…"
"You're losing it, Noah. For real."
At this time, Barry had returned to the bar, after leaving Caitlin safely in her apartment. He saw Noah sitting in his place and quite close to Belén.
"Do you think...I could…" Noah's other fingers joined Belén's cheek then lowered near her jawline. Before Belén knew it, he had planted his lips over hers for a kiss.
A twinge of actual jealousy surged through Barry as he saw this literally feet away from them. Linda returned from paying the tab at the same time and had gasped in honest surprise when she saw them.
Belén pulled away as soon as she could. She was a bit disoriented for the first couple of seconds. She had no idea where that came from and she genuinely wasn't quite interested in having it repeat itself. Putting a hand over her mouth, she slid out of her stool. "Oh my God…"
"Glad to see you two are having fun," remarked Linda, arms crossed, as she walked up to them.
"H-he's drunk," Belén was still gathering herself from the moment, one hand in her hair. She met eyes with Barry, and instantly he could see her discomfort- which did put him in a less tensed stance. "Can we go home, please?"
He nodded. "Let's just get the tab closed, okay?"
Grateful, she grabbed her purse, intending on waiting for him in her spot. However, halfway passing by, Noah made an attempt to grab her arm, making Barry backtrack and practically yank Belén to his side.
"Goodnight," he spat to the drunken journalist, giving a somewhat lighter look at Linda.
"That was something I so did not expect," Belén confided in him after paying the tab and walking out of the bar. "And I...I didn't think I gave him signals to - oh my God, he's gonna think I gave him signals. Oh my God!"
"Bells, it's…" but Barry couldn't really find the right words to say at the moment. He was fighting the urge to go back and punch Noah. At the same time, he saw Belén feeling guilty, like this was her fault.
Belén sighed, speaking without receiving an ounce of comforting. "Can you drop me off at home please? I don't want to think about this."
"Of course," Barry nodded, hoping this would blow over by tomorrow.
Swooping in on Belén's porch was quick and easy. But, much like Caitlin had earlier, Belén was a bit rocky on her feet in the first couple of seconds after coming to a stop. Nearly losing her balance, she latched onto Barry's arms and he grabbed her tighter as well. She chuckled in her embarrassment and looked up, intending on apologizing but she realized how close they had gotten and immediately blushed. Barry too had stopped to look down at her, and for the first time thought about her as above what a 'friend' was to him.
For one, she seemed to easily fit between his arms. He could probably hold her and sway her for hours. Her hair was neatly curled over her shoulders, still looking as if they'd just been done minutes ago. Her blonde tips seemed to shine with the street lights. Even her deep chocolate eyes were looking different to him. For a minute, Barry remembered the last time he'd gotten the same feeling. Right after Oliver and Felicity had come to visit, at Jitters. He never figured out what made Belén seem so different to him that day but he did know that she had looked more pretty than usual. It was the same 'different' that made it harder for Barry to want to stop holding hands with Belén that day. Now that feeling was back and it was stronger.
Even the way Belén was smiling was different but this time Barry knew why. It was still the same soft smile she always had on for everyone, but tonight's smile was causing a swirl of feelings to start in the pit of his stomach. They were tantalizing. He wouldn't have to lean so much to touch her lips with his.
Belén was very aware that she had Barry's face just inches from her but unlike with Noah, she didn't feel uncomfortable. - actually, she felt quite a home. She felt safe. He has taken several bullets for you, she reminded herself. She knew there were moments where she would inevitably steal glances from Barry but who could blame her? He was cute, he was incredibly intelligent - she knew he was far too smart for his own good - and he was far too kind to people even when they didn't deserve it. All this Belén had decided a while ago but she kept it all in the deepest parts of her mind. She thought she had a good handle on it, but then came moments like these. She was too close to Barry and now she could see his perfect features.
Forget 'cute' he's hot, Belén blushed like mad when she thought that. Her eyes dropped from his gaze but that hadn't been the right choice because now she was realizing Barry's lips were right in front of hers. Maybe she could lean just a bit...
You can't! Belén remembered. She couldn't think about him like this. It was Barry, after all, and he deserved someone better. With that mindset, she pulled away, out of Barry's arms, to a safe distance from him. The abrupt action startled Barry but he kept himself in his spot. Belén offered him a small smile from where she stood. "I know it was unplanned, and perhaps not the ideal night out...but I had fun. I'll have to thank Caitlin for that tomorrow...if she can remember."
Barry gave a slight nod, unable to will himself to speed away just yet. Belén moved to unlock the front door, and before going inside, she turned around again, hand on the doorknob.
"You know, if what Caitlin said about you earlier was true...then I don't think you should be afraid of asking that girl out." Belén smiled, and for a split second Barry could swear it was a sad smile. "I think any girl would love to go out with a…" she paused and titled her head to the side, her eyes drifting up in thought, "...a fast-moving, signing scientist."
A smile broke across Barry's face, as well a surge of heat that rushed up to his face. "One could say the same thing about a fast-talking, passionate journalist who can dance in the air."
Belén chuckled, momentarily looking down to cover her own blush. During that moment she missed Barry almost making a move towards her but he stopped himself. He heard Caitlin's words about him all over again. Would he be willing to risk a friendship in the hopes of something more with Belén? Did he consider it worthwhile? Because after all, this was Bells, his fighting partner, his friend.
"Goodnight, Barry," Belén said softly, waving as she turned the doorknob and went inside.
Almost immediately, a deep exhale came out of Barry. His thoughts rearranged in that one second.
Ooh..but this was Bells...
A quirky girl who just happened to make him feel things he hadn't quite understood till then.
~ 0 ~
The next day, Belén came into work like nothing, thanking God she had not drank as much as Caitlin because she was sure a migraine would make things even worse. She was suffering, once again, at work because everyone refused to speak to her. Thinking she knew the Flash and was just being snobby by keeping all the details from them, they left her out of nearly every article being written for the week. If this kept up, Belén was 99.9% sure she would lose her job.
Hell, even Iris was being admitted into the group and she was barely a couple weeks old at the place. But, unlike the others, Iris was far kinder.
"I keep trying to tell them you've got nothing to hide," Iris sighed and crossed her arms, looking disappointed she was failing to help her friend. "But...they're all snobs."
"I learned that on my third day in my internship," Belén in a weak attempt to lighten the mood between them.
"But this is so unfair!"
"Yes, it quite is."
"Belén?" Noah was cautiously coming up to the desk, looking worse for wear. Belén imagined Caitlin looking something like him considering the amount of alcohol they drank last night. "Can we talk?"
Belén gave a small nod and motioned to Iris she'd only be a minute. Moving a safe distance from the desk, she crossed her arms and waited for Noah to begin what she knew must be related to last night.
"I just want to apologize for last night. I...I was so drunk and not right in the head," he clapped his hands together. "I don't want you to think I'm that kind of guy, because...because I'm not. I'm really sorry." He was sure Rayan would kill him if he ever found out what happened last night so Noah hoped to God Belén wouldn't tell her sister about it.
"Now that you got that out of your chest…" Belén started to softly laugh, much to Noah's surprise. "...go get yourself a headache pill because I bet your head is just killing you right now."
"What? You're...you're not mad?" Noah sounded doubtful, and with great reason too.
"I was never mad, because like you said, this wasn't you. I've done my share of bad things when I get drunk. Although I will admit to being caught off guard and a bit uncomfortable."
"I'm so sorry about that. Trust me, it will never happen again. I promise."
"I'm holding you to that," Belén pointed at him with a kind smile. "I think we work best as a writing team."
"Yeah, I think so too."
Belén gave him a last smile before returning to her desk where she was sure Iris was merely pretending she had not heard anything. The woman fiddled with some papers left behind on the desk.
"How much did you hear?" Belén decided to get straight to the point.
Iris dropped the papers and got to business. "Everything. What happened? Where did you go last night?"
"I was at a bar with Caitlin and Barry and we met up with Linda and Noah."
Iris stayed motionless for a couple seconds while Belén went around the desk to take a seat. "What...what were you, uh...what was the reason-"
"It was a friendly get-together, Iris, nothing more," Belén warned before Iris could finish.
Iris began to laugh mirthlessly and whirled around to face her friend. "N-n-n-no, the last time you were out with Barry, you came home with this goofy grin and-"
"Caitlin was there too," Belén reminded sharply.
Iris crossed her arms, now smirking. "Then why are you blushing?"
Belén clapped a hand to her cheek to feel the warmth she didn't realize she was giving off. "Am not." She was definitely not thinking about how close she'd been to Barry last night, nope.
"So are," Iris rolled her eyes. "You guys are slower than sloths."
"Iris...go away, please," Belén said in a hushed voice, preferring no one heard her. Iris shrugged and walked away, but Belén was sure this wasn't the last she would hear of this.
At the same moment, she heard her phone 'ding' on her desk. She didn't know if it was because of what Iris said, or perhaps of what happened last night, but she felt a jolt of nervousness when she read Barry's name written across. It was a simple text message with a simple question - why was she acting like a such a dork?
I'm heading to STAR Labs, do you want a pick up?
Belén smiled and immediately texted a response back.
Yes please! I want to share my video with the others!
Very soon, she got another text back.
...you suck. Be there in a bit.
Belén laughed to herself, acquiring some looks from co-workers passing by. Shyly, she put her phone down on the desk and started gathering her things together.
"Going out?" Noah called upon her, walking by with a file in hand.
"Uh, yes," Belén smiled sadly. "I don't think anybody here really cares if I skip out a couple hours before."
"Hey," Noah put a hand down over hers on the desk, "This will blow over okay? You'll see."
Belén tried to keep his optimism in her heart with a tight smile. "Put in a good word for me, though?"
Noah chuckled. "I will do that as much as I can."
There was a clearing of a throat from a distance. "You ready to go, Bells?" Barry stood there, attempting to hide his dislike as best as possible. He had seen them 'holding hands' from outside and he resisted the idea of speeding in and taking Belén without announcing himself. That was rude...apparently.
"Yes!" Belén exclaimed, then silently questioning herself if that had been too fast of a response. She pulled her hand from underneath Noah's and stood up from her chair, swiping her phone off the desk and dumping it into her bag. "Can you tell Iris I probably won't be back today?" she asked Noah.
"Don't worry," Noah smiled. "See you later," he told both Belén and Barry then walked off with his file.
"Soo…" Barry awkwardly began as they walked out, he letting her out first.
"He apologized," Belén turned to face him, figuring where his thoughts were at the moment. "And I forgave him. He was drunk, and he had no idea what was going on."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. Besides, both he and I agreed we didn't exactly want to go further than...friendship you know. We work fine as co-workers."
"Alright, c'mon. It's time to go see what Caitlin did to get up today."
"I suck apparently?" Belén arched an eyebrow before he could move them.
"Uuh…" Barry thought about a good response but came up with nothing. Instead, he sped them off for STAR Labs and hoped she would forget about it all.
Five minutes after they had gotten to the place, the elevator doors dinged open and out stepped Caitlin in thick black sunglasses clutching a water bottle like her life depended on it.
Holding the urge to laugh after glancing with Barry, Belén stepped forwards to greet her. "Hi there Caitlin-"
Caitlin flinched like Belén had just screamed at the top of her lungs. "So loud. Oh, ho-ho."
Barry stepped up beside Belén, and added, "Everything...okay?"
Caitlin sucked in a small breath. "Let's just say I envy your inability to get drunk. I don't remember much from last night."
She walked past them, heading for the cortex. Belén turned and walked beside her, leaving Barry to do the same. "Well, if you ever want to remember I think Bells has something that could help…" Barry sideways glanced at Belén.
Caitlin, confused, did the same and Belén pulled out her phone from her bag. She pulled up the video of Caitlin's and Barry's karaoke session and waved it at them, mimicking for them, "Summer lovin'..."
"Oh, God," Caitlin gasped in absolute horror. "That I do remember!"
Belén burst out laughing. She only stopped upon entering the cortex room where Cisco and Dr. Wells were, the latter with arms crossed at the former. It was easy to tell something was off.
"What's wrong?" Barry was the first to break the silence.
"Cisco... Has something he needs to tell you," Dr. Wells sarcastically said.
When all eyes turned on Cisco, he took a breath and declared, "Hartley's gone."
Belén gasped. "He escaped again!? How?"
Cisco shook his head and clarified. "I let him out." He took a moment to see how Caitlin was reacting but he was at a loss. "Are you mad? I can't tell with those glasses on."
Caitlin had remained perfectly still throughout the discussion, and for a good reason. "I'd like to yell and wave my arms, but I'm afraid I'd throw up."
"Why? What were you thinking?" Barry exclaimed, completely lost on this ridiculous idea of Cisco's. "You know how dangerous he is."
"Hartley said he knew what happened to Ronnie-"
"I told you to let it go," cut in Caitlin, removing her glasses. "I didn't want you looking into that for me."
"I wasn't doing it for you. I…" Cisco sighed, deciding to come clean once and for all, "I sealed Ronnie into the accelerator before it blew. He told me to wait two minutes, and I waited, but he didn't come back. And I can't stop thinking, 10, 20 seconds and... Ronnie wouldn't be like he is right now. I've wanted to tell you so many times. I'm so sorry."
Caitlin softened up as she went around desk towards him. "So you carried that around this whole time?" Cisco nodded silently. "Do you know what Ronnie would say if he was here? He would say that you did the right thing. It wasn't your fault. What happened that night wasn't anybody's fault. Come on. Don't we have a teleporter to catch?"
"Do we have progress on that by the way?" Belén asked once they had moved on.
"We do," Wells was happy to announce as he went up to the computers. He pulled up a tab of Shawna's cells that were flickering in and out. "Take a look at this. Now, this is the normal behavior of the particulate that Shawna left behind. Watch what happens when we remove light." The tab was exchanged for one of Shawna's cells in a neon green background that now had each cell motionless. "Shawna can only become entangled with something she can see. Take away her ability to do that…"
Barry realized, "She can't teleport."
"So, we just need to get her into a dark space," Caitlin commented and got to thinking. "How do we do that?"
Barry's phone began to vibrate and so he moved a distance to take the call while the others continued discussing.
"It's a valid question," Wells agreed.
"What...we can wait till night and fight her off in the dark?" Belén made faces as no other better ideas were being given at the moment. "Or...turn the lights off."
It was easy to tell something was completely wrong with Barry after he hung up his call. His face was pale and his eyes widened with distinctable fear.
"What's wrong?" Wells asked him instantly.
"M... My dad. He's been stabbed," he shuddered a breath just thinking about it. He was then ushered by the group to go see his father, but one of them - a tall ombre-blonde predicted an angry flare would soon rise and then something would then occur.
~ 0 ~
By the time Barry got the Iron Heights, Joe was already there with Henry, who was put to immediate rest after his injury. "Dad, what happened?"
"A rather stern reminder, I'd say, not to poke around Marcus Stockheimer's business," Henry was none too pleased that the only job he had, had been terminated so quick and easily.
"Dad, I told you to stop-"
Joe cleared his throat before Barry could finish. "Your dad called me with more intel. It helped us track down Clay and Shawna and arrest Stockheimer."
"I managed to screw up Marcus's big heist, too, so…"
Barry looked between the two men in disbelief. "You two kept working together, and you didn't tell me?"
"It isn't his fault. I did it to help you," Henry said before Barry would have a go at Joe. It didn't, however, ease things between him and his son.
"You getting stabbed and beaten is not helping me!"
Henry sighed, knowing Barry had a right to be upset with him. "Look, I... I... I don't get to feel useful very much in here. So if I can help you for a change, I'm gonna want to be there for you. Just like you've been there for me all these years."
Barry hated that he could, on a level, understand that. It was family, after all, that made people do crazy things sometimes.
"You said Marcus had a big heist coming up? Do you know anything else about it?" asked Joe.
"Dad, tell me who did this to you," Barry very much ordered. The anger inside him was flourishing just at the thought of the culprit thinking he could get away with stabbing his father.
Henry shook his head. "No, it doesn't matter, slugger."
Barry moved over to the side of his father's bed. "But you said you want to help me. So help me."
Henry saw that even though he wouldn't say a word, Barry would go on and find the answer himself. With another sigh, he answered, "One of Marcus's boys. Julius."
~ 0 ~
"I should have I bet on it," Belén sighed earnestly after Barry informed them all of how they would be getting some information on Shawna Baez. He'd gotten ahold of a specific inmate and extracted the needed information to get Shawna's location.
"Was that a joke?" Cisco sent her an odd look as she walked past them all ready in her suit.
"Of course…" but the way in which she assured him left him, well...not so sure.
Barry had stopped Shawna and her boyfriend underneath a tunnel and was having trouble keeping her from teleporting. In the car, Clay impatiently waited for Shawna to finish up fighting the metahuman. When Belén arrived, Shawna had just pushed off a construction worker off a machine. As Barry went to rescue the man, Shawna took opportunity and teleported back into the car with Clay.
"We have to get the lights!" Belén told the other speedster, looking up the light bulbs planted on the ceiling in a straight line. Who knew her idea of turning off the lights would become so relevant. She flinched as the car zoomed past her, but she didn't wait for an exact plan either. Thrusting both her hands upwards, she smashed the nearest light bulbs and swung forwards to continue smashing the next ones.
Seeing her plan, Barry sped forwards and passed Shawna's car to take a turn at the end. In a powerful blast, he smashed the front window and forced the car to an inevitable stop. Belén dropped beside the car and opened the car door to find a lonesome Shawna inside.
"...he left me," Shawna whispered, glancing at the now empty driver seat beside her.
"Men," Belén rolled her eyes, and as sorry as she felt for Shawna, she pulled out Shawna to bring her down to the pipeline. A bad relationship did not excuse crimes.
~ 0 ~
Shawna was placed into a cell in the pipeline, and as much as she tried teleporting out of it she would only reappear mere inches from her spot inside the cell. On the other side, which she could apparently not see, stood the rest of the team except Wells.
"Is there any way she can teleport out of this?" Barry curiously asked Cisco beside him.
"She's not looking at us," Belén commented from Cisco's other side, making a face, "So that's a clue…"
"It's one-way glass," Cisco answered the both of them. "It's mirrored on the inside. No one dangerous is ever gonna get out of this thing again."
Belén patted his arm, glad to see he was feeling a little better from his Hartley experience. "Next time don't let them out in the first place," she whispered with a teasing chuckle and walked away with him.
Meanwhile, Barry was going to have one last word with Shawna, at least to make her realize the reality she was now in. "Shawna. Clay left you. He's out there, and you're in here."
Shawna stopped teleporting, and looked to the side in utter disappointment. "You know what the crazy thing is? I still love him."
"Crazy is right," Caitlin made a face as she closed the pipeline down.
"Some people are worth being crazy for," Barry walked her pace back into the cortex.
Caitlin's smile widened in embarrassment. "Look, I'm sorry if I was a bit - well, a lot - of a drunken mess last night."
"Actually, it was pretty fun," admitted Barry.
"Even the part where Bells got a video she can now blackmail both of us with?"
Barry reluctantly gave a small nod. "Sort...of…"
Caitlin chuckled. "I'm also sorry for...pushing things a little too hard on you and Belén. I-it wasn't my place."
Barry took in a breath and motioned her not to continue. "Actually, I'm glad you talked to me and that you got us to the bar. It made me think and it made me realize...that maybe getting out there isn't such a bad idea."
Caitlin nodded her head. "If what Cisco says is true, that Ronnie merged with Martin Stein, then he's not alive anymore. Time for me to move on. Find someone new to be crazy about."
"Crazy thing is...I think I found someone I can be crazy for," Barry smiled to himself. "You think you and Cisco can help me out with a little something?"
Curious of what he had in mind, Caitlin nodded and paid close attention to what Barry was beginning to tell her.
~ 0 ~
"I don't even know why I'm going back there," Belén huffed like a child would, ignoring the laughter from Iris on one side and Linda on her other side while the three walked down the street.
"Because it's your job you worked for years now?" Linda tried to be funny but earned herself a small glare in return.
"I could be sleeping right now!"
"Oh shush!" Iris whacked Belén's arm, rolling her eyes. "And woman up - you are not going to let those co-workers intimidate you out of your own job because they don't believe you."
Belén said nothing more. She was resigned to yet another workday where people would give her dirty looks and scorn at her. All three women stumbled back when a strong force of wind hit them. Two out of the three were familiar with that 'wind', but only one was happy to see the other.
What is he planning? Belén wondered, admittedly concerned, as she turned the corner into an alleyway with Iris and Linda behind her.
As the Flash, Barry stood at the end of the alleyway. He was enjoying the look on Belén's face due because she had no idea what he was doing. "That's for you," he pointed towards a lone file left on top of a dumpster.
"That's the Flash," Linda gaped.
"Why are you here?" Belén could not help the tiny bit of anger in her tone - a concerned anger that Barry recognized. She was probably thinking how stupid it was for him to expose himself to yet another woman.
"I thought maybe you could help me out if you're willing," Barry shrugged oh-so-innocently it tugged a smile out of Belén. She got what he was trying to do.
"Oh, really?" she crossed her arms.
Iris moved behind them to pick up the file designated for Belén and skimmed a couple pages. "This is about the breakout at Iron Heights."
Linda snapped out of her stupor to check the file herself. "Belén do you know how big this is right now!?"
"Yeah, I do," Belén released a breath as she reached for the file herself, eyes still on Barry. "It's the story they're not letting me do right now."
"Why are you giving this to her?" Linda then asked him, no upset of his choice but overall curious. All in the meanwhile, none of them saw Iris discreetly pulling out her phone.
"Because she's an underestimated reporter and I want that to stop," Barry met gazes with Belén, the woman already flushing, "The world needs a woman like her putting the stories out there."
Belén had that look that said 'I'm gonna get you for this' with the widest smile ever. With a rather smug smile, Barry sped out of the alleyway.
"Oh my God, you have met him!" Linda exclaimed, still awed. Belén turned to her friend with a growing smile, taking Barry's plan with a small laugh. He would pull something like this.
~ 0 ~
That night in his lab, Barry got word of how his plan had gone. He'd heard it from Iris earlier and he did his job of pretending to be so surprised. Now he only had to wait for Belén to come see him. So he waited. He was working on a new case when he heard the familiar squeals nearing the lab. Barry jumped out of his chair though seeing how excited he was too, he took the few seconds to calm himself down.
"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" Belén ran into the room and went straight for him. "Oh my Goooood!" she threw his arms around his neck and hugged him tight as ever. Pleasant with this sort of greeting, Barry hugged back. "I thank my lucky stars every night for meeting you," Belén whispered, dead serious yet enough to make Barry laugh.
"I take it all is well at work again?"
Belén pulled away slightly to look at him, eyes filled with suspicion yet happiness. "What the hell was that for, Barry Allen? You exposed yourself to Linda Park and you basically confirmed to them that I indeed I know you."
"And they told the others at work right?" Barry asked.
"Well, clearly!" Belén whacked his arm but ended up laughing. "You should have seen Larkin's face when I put my article together with what you gave me. And then when Linda started telling them how I got the story. Suddenly, I'm everyone's favorite now."
"Well, you're my favorite," Barry cheekily smiled, making her laugh.
"And you are my favorite!" she was so happy that she needed to give him another hug.
Barry forced himself to sober up enough in order to find some courage and ask her - as casually as possible - a question. When he pulled away, she was still smiling but more flushed now.
"Bells, you think...do you think we could...I don't know, go get a cup of coffee or...something…?" Yes, that had not been exactly how courageously he wanted to ask but at least the question had been put out there, or so he thought.
"Oh yeah, sure!" she exclaimed, misunderstanding the intention of the question. "We could get everyone down at Jitters and-"
"No, no," Barry gestured that he needed another moment. "I meant...um...do you, maybe, want to have coffee or lunch or...maybe dinner, I don't know...together?" he pointed between them. "Alone."
"Oooh…" Belén's smile faded and her hand gripped the strap of her bag. Her heart hammered under her chest. "...alone…" She looked to the side, so many things popping into her head yet she knew that one thing overrode them all, no matter how many butterflies those other ideas gave her. She couldn't be selfish, not to him.
And so, as much as it pained her, she gave her answer in one word.
“No.”
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crimsonlocks · 4 years
Text
           Even more;        
—    BASICS.
▸     IS    YOUR    MUSE    TALL    /    SHORT    /    AVERAGE ?
Ornstein is around 2,60 m or 8′8′‘, so he is a giant. It comes from him gaining soul power and having grown to a much larger size that should humanly be possible. Also, he is kind of a demigod under the protection of the light soul, so him growing big even without soul power was a given.
Laurence is around 1,70 m or 5′57′‘, so he is on the rather short side.
▸      ARE    THEY    OKAY    WITH    THEIR    HEIGHT ?
Ornstein is. He learned to control his soul power enough to not grow expentionally GIANT, which can happen when someone absorbs a powerful soul (it happens to him in Ornstein & Smough fight when Smough falls first). He is, funnily, one of the more shorter of the knights of Gwyn, but he never had trouble with it. He finds his height just right. Laurence HATES how small he is. He grew up around Gehrman and always wanted to be as big as him. But no, both of his parents are small, their boy is small too. He measured himself until he was around twenty years old until Micolash said “Laurence, you won’t grow anymore.”
▸      WHAT’S    THEIR    HAIR    LIKE ?
Ornstein’s hair is from a crimson red, curly as hell and very long, it goes down his waist and only stops at his knees, so he usually pulls it up in a ponytail and that still goes down to his butt. Laurence hair is auburn and falls in soft waves down to his shoulders. It is as soft as it looks like. He usually just lets his hair fall loose and never ties it up.
▸     DO    THEY    SPEND    A    LOT    OF    TIME    ON    THEIR    HAIR     /    GROOMING ?
Ornstein’s hair is untameable and he HATES brushing it, so no. He washes it regularly, but brushing is a thing he doesn’t do. He just accepted that his hair won’t let itself tame, though others don’t think like this and so they go and brush his hair for him. When they can catch him. He only gets a cut when he starts to fall over it. Laurence wants his hair to look good, so he washes it regularly and brushes it so that it falls in just the right soft waves over his shoulders. He also makes sure that it isn’t too long and lets it cut down the moment it grew too long. In Byrgenwerth Micolash usually cut his hair for him.
▸      DOES   YOUR   MUSE   CARE   ABOUT   THEIR   APPEARANCE   /   WHAT    OTHERS    THINK ?
Ornstein usually is in full body armour, so not really. Most people don’t even recognize him when he is out of his armour. He likes it like this and won’t present himself as very desireable, just running around in loose clothes and with unbrushed hair, liking that for once he doesn’t have to be the dragon slayer.
Laurence needs to look presentable. He is the Vicar and people can’t see him at his worst. He has to wear clean clothes, his hair has to look good, his face has to be clean. He has to look perfect. He is the face of the Healing Church and as this, the face of Yharnam (unofficial, but everybody knows it). Laurence is at his most dangerous the better he looks actually.
—    PREFERENCES.
Ornstein
INDOORS    OR    OUTDOORS ? RAIN   OR    SUNSHINE ? FOREST    OR    BEACH ?  PRECIOUS    METALS  OR   GEMS ?   FLOWERS    OR    PERFUMES ? PERSONALITY    OR    APPEARANCE ? BEING    ALONE    OR    BEING    IN    A    CROWD ?  ORDER    OR    ANARCHY ?    PAINFUL    TRUTHS   OR  WHITE    LIES ?   SCIENCE   OR    MAGIC ? PEACE    OR    CONFLICT ?  NIGHT    OR   DAY ?   DUSK   OR    DAWN ? WARMTH   OR    COLD ? MANY   ACQUAINTANCES    OR    A    FEW    CLOSE    FRIENDS ?    READING    OR    PLAYING    A    GAME ? Laurence
INDOORS    OR    OUTDOORS ? RAIN    OR    SUNSHINE ? FOREST    OR   BEACH ?  PRECIOUS    METALS   OR   GEMS ?   FLOWERS    OR    PERFUMES ?  PERSONALITY    OR    APPEARANCE ?BEING    ALONE    OR    BEING    IN    A    CROWD ?  ORDER    OR    ANARCHY ?    PAINFUL    TRUTHS    OR   WHITE    LIES ?   SCIENCE    OR    MAGIC ? PEACE    OR    CONFLICT ?  NIGHT    OR   DAY ?   DUSK    OR    DAWN ? WARMTH    OR    COLD ? MANY   ACQUAINTANCES   OR    A    FEW    CLOSE    FRIENDS ?    READING    OR    PLAYING    A    GAME ?
—    QUESTIONNAIRE.
▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    OF    YOUR    MUSE’S    BAD    HABITS ?
Ornstein’s most bad habit is how jealous he gets when in a romantic relationship. It is very intrusive in his brain and has to do a lot with his anxiety and abandonment issues, but it still makes him very clingy and very upset whenever he sees someone who may be interested in his SO even talk to them. One of Laurence bad habits is that he jumps to conclusion to easily. He doesn’t let the people explain themselves before he is “Oh, you are one of those people.” and narrows his eyes. That with his general disliking of  “outsiders” is one of his worst habits.
▸      HAS    YOUR    MUSE    LOST    ANYONE    CLOSE    TO    THEM ?      HOW    HAS    IT    AFFECTED    THEM ?
How shall I even being with Ornstein? It started with him practically abandoned as a newborn, often asking himself why his parents didn’t want him. It went farther when his master went traitor and Ornstein had to choose between his love and his loyalty. Ornstein chose his loyalty and had his heart broken, why did his master turn traitor? On him? Then, Gwyn left, then Gwynevere, then Artorias died and the other knights of Gwyn would never come back to the cathedral. And then Smough died. It affected Ornstein in a way that he fell into depression. He looked forward to die in the battle against the Chosen Undead, but it shouldn’t be. Ornstein had suicidial thoughts after this, but managed to channel it into going in a journey to find himself and reconcile with his master. Laurence first great loss were his parents, who both got infected by a deadly disease when they helped a patient and didn’t survive it. He was 12 years old and naturally, in that part of his life it fucked him up. He found a second family over at Byrgenwerth, with Gerhman and Micolash as his closest friends, especially Gehrman was like an older brother for him. So it fucked Laurence over a second time when Gehrman blamed him for Maria’s death and then vanished alltogether. Later in his life Laurence is extremely lonely and lowkey depressive, but he doesn’t admit it to anyone, not even to himself. Instead he uses terrible coping mechanisms like drinking too much, staying up the whole night and sometimes even degrading himself in front of his boyfriend.
▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    FOND    MEMORIES    YOUR    MUSE    HAS ?  
Ornstein has a lot of fond memories of his friends, his master, Smough, the other knights of Gwyn. He once had a life that he loved and that was being the dragon slayer alongside the other knights and all the fun times they had. And then when they had peace, it was all he wished for. He has many fond memories of Smough because he kept him grounded whenever Ornstein broke down. Laurence has many good memories of his parents, they were good parents, as well as many fond memories of Byrgenwerth, even though nowadays he denies that it ever has been good for him there. But secretly, he wishes to go back, he was happy there. When everything was still easy and people weren’t turning into beasts and before he saw that he gained claws. Wow, that turned depressing, I am sorry.
▸     IS    IT    EASY    FOR    YOUR    MUSE    TO    KILL ?
Yes, because Ornstein is a knight. He doesn’t have a great morally about it, his lord says “kill”, then he kills.
That changed when he was on his own. When he had to think on his own if he should kill somebody. He had a lot of time musing about what killing actually meant and decided to be as respectful as possible whenever he would kill someone or something just so that he could stay alive.
Laurence never has killed someone directly, but he is responsible for the death of thousands. So while he wouldn’t be able to kill someone just because, he doesn’t have problems saying to somebody else “Kill them.” Hes is kind of a hypocrite in this regard.
▸      WHAT’S    IT    LIKE    WHEN    YOUR    MUSE    BREAKS    DOWN ?
It’s bad for Ornstein. He always tries to hide his feelings until they bubble over. Then he breaks down, shivers, cries and murmurs the phrase “keep it together” over and over again until he calmed down. He doesn’t want to see like this by anyone and usually only breaks down when he is alone. Smough and Gwyndolin are the only ones who have seen him break down as well as Artorias and Ciaran, ONCE and never again. Laurence doesn’t admit to himself that he is breaking down, so when he does, it is usually because someone tells him. He is sarcastic and ironic at first until he breaks down and cries about it and usually degrades himself HEAVILY, because he is a horrible person. It is usually Ludwig who has to get him out of it.
▸      IS    YOUR    MUSE    CAPABLE    OF    TRUSTING    SOMEONE    WITH    THEIR    LIFE ?
Ornstein had to. He fought dragons. He needed to trust his knights. He was the one who chose the other knights of Gwyn. He trusts each and everyone of them with his own life and he does the same for them. Once the Healing Church reputation suffered and Laurence felt the need to find a body guard, he settled on Ludwig to be it. So yes, Laurence completely trust Ludwig with his life.
▸      WHAT’S    YOUR    MUSE    LIKE    WHEN    THEY’RE    IN    LOVE ?
Ornstein is very cuddly and wants to spend time with the person but also gets insecure when he hasn’t confessed yet and prefers for the other to confess first. He gets dreamy and distracted and people know that something is up. The silver knights actually tried to find out who his crush is and settled on Artorias, even though it was his Master. Laurence, like usual, just denies it. Romantic feelings? I don’t have time for them. He can sleep around when he has sexual desires, no problem, there are more than enough women and a few men who share their bed with him. Hm, but why are they cute? Why do they make him feel warm? Why is he thinking about them when having sex? Oh! Oh no! He’s in love.
Tagged by: I stole it from @derjaegermond Tagging: Steal it and tag me.
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sserpente · 6 years
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A/N: Request from @kingslayers-angel and @ohheyshortstuff and @lunajones24. I literally got like six requests involving the mistletoe and hey, I just had to write it. xD
Words: 2093 Warnings: fluff
You quickly looked away when he caught you staring but it did not scary you away. You would secretly watch him reading, talking to Thor and… to be honest, there wasn’t a lot the God of Mischief did around this place. Mostly, he acted extremely bored and bothered by the Avengers, all of which kept eyeing him like he was some kind of nasty insect.
You froze when his blue gaze met yours. Look away, quick! And so this went on and on and on, every time you believed he wouldn’t notice your longing glances and soft smiles when by some miracle, you did interact with each other.
How would you best put it? Yes. You loved Loki. Well, you were crushing on him. Casual thoughts at first—he looked hot, handsome, ravishing, his raven hair was gorgeous, his blue eyes mesmerising, when he fought, how did he manage to look both intimidating and this graceful?
Next, you had deliberately taken an interest in his hobbies—reading the same books, appreciating the art of dagger crafting, culture and languages. He was beyond intelligent—and it intrigued you.
And then you had started to care. Feeling compassionate when the Avengers ignored him yet again, excluded him from some fun activity or met him with simple and unnecessary cruelty. You were beyond fearful and worried when he returned from a mission injured or overly exhausted and it was getting harder to hide it with every day that passed.
The others noticed of course. Quite frankly, everyone but Loki himself did. They all knew you liked the God of Mischief more than it was healthy, that it was dangerous to trust him—which you did, against all reason. They weren’t exactly fond of your feelings but you kept hanging in there. You knew he was more than he let on, hiding his good heart out of fear of getting hurt again. You would never.
Sometimes, so it seemed, it felt like a poorly retold version of ‘The Beauty and the Beast’... If only it could be this easy. It would be a Christmas miracle, if anything. Loki wasn’t exactly a fan of mortals, after all.
Only a few weeks back, you had eavesdropped a conversation between him and Thor, almost dropping your coffee mug upon hearing his harsh words, crushing all of your hopes like a smoldering light bulb.
‘Petty mortals’, ‘pathetically short lives’ and ‘unwise to get attached’ were only a few of the phrases that had fallen.
So here you were. Lusting over a man you knew you could never have. Stealing secret glances, mustering him like a piece of art and quickly looking away when he caught you staring. Had he noticed there was something going on? Something that, perhaps, shouldn’t?
Maybe you should just get drunk tonight and forget about all this. It was Christmas Eve and Tony had insisted on throwing one of his ridiculously expensive parties. When you entered the living room, ornaments hung from the ceiling wherever you looked, scented candles burned in the corners and countless Christmas decoration—from red reindeer to sleighs and snowmen… was that… an ice sculpture on the buffet table?—filled the manor. The giant Christmas tree in the middle of it shone out, of course, with dozens of lights, ornaments and electric candles.
Sighing, you hesitated, not quite stepping over the threshold, your hands clutching at your long evening dress. It was green—ironic, really.
This had been such a stupid idea. You could be up in your room reading that book Loki loved so much but instead, you had chosen to spend Christmas Eve with a bunch of strangers who all thought themselves superheroes. Apart from the Avengers and Loki, you didn’t know anyone after all.
“Are you waiting for a prince to pick you up? Or are you simply planning to stand there all night?” Your heart jumped when you suddenly heard his alluring and smooth voice. You had searched the room for him almost automatically upon your arrival, how could you not have seen him approaching you? Had it been his intention?
You replied by biting your lower lip, unable to speak a proper sentence like usual when he was this close to you. No matter what you would come up with to say, you never deemed it intellectual enough for him. So you just kept your mouth shut and acting awkwardly.
“A beautiful dress,” he continued then, smirking down at you. Had he just… given you a compliment? You were about to open your mouth to thank him, astonished, when Tony suddenly showed up with an alcoholic drink in his hands. You could clearly tell he was tipsy already, the malicious glistening in his eyes was daring.
“(Y/N)! You like my decorations?”
“She loves them,” Clint tossed in, followed by Natasha giggling to herself. You were pretty sure you had never heard the Black Widow giggling before.
“You’re being silly, are you drunk?”
“Maybe. But you’re the one standing under the mistletoe.” He replied, winking in the process. Your blood ran cold. Damn those decorations. So Tony had put them there for a bloody reason and that said reason had just complimented you on your green dress.
“Fucking shit.” You hissed, rolling your eyes to hide the sudden fear creeping up your body. God, this was way worse than joining the Avengers on a mission and dealing with humanoid alien races that regularly attempted to kill you. You were ready to bolt and leave the party again, that hour wasted on applying your make-up be damned.
“Come on, (Y/N), you know the rules.” Natasha mused, raising her eyebrows. This must have been a set up. Was Loki involved? Was this why he had admired your dress? Were they all just mocking you?
When you turned to face him again, however, you quickly discarded the thought again. Loki seemed about as confused as you were as he glared at the dew-fresh plant decorated with a red bow right above him.
“What is this about?” He asked languidly, clearly annoyed by the fuss there was made about you.
You were going to slap yourself after this, your heart beating like a steam hammer as you stood on your toes, your eyes fixed on his thin lips. Wasn’t this what you always wanted? Finding out what he tasted like? What it would be like to kiss him? Yes. But not like that.
“I-I… I’m so sorry.” You whispered, shortly before pressing a quick kiss on his lips. It was barely there—a light brushing of skin against skin, like butterfly wings and yet…
It was like electricity that pumped through your veins when your mouths touched, if only briefly. Paired with the numbing adrenaline, you took a deep breath to apologise yet again but actions, as you knew, spoke louder than words.
So you ran, fleeing to the first place that came to your mind that would be deserted at this time of the day. The balcony.
“What was that all about?” Loki demanded to know, still frowning at the plant above him. They all acted like it had supernatural healing powers and then, when you had kissed him… shaking his head, he stared Tony directly in the eye—something he usually avoided—they weren’t that friendly after all.
It had been a while he had felt soft lips against his. In fact, he had never felt lips as soft as yours. The royal concubines he had slept with back in Asgard preferred to do… different things with their mouth and tongue and although your kiss had been short and shy, he had felt it.
The lightnings that had cursed through every cell of body, setting his skin on fire… you looked ravishing tonight. How come he had never seen it before? Your cordial attitude towards him, your longing looks… all at once, with ice cold shivers running up and down his spine, he put one and one together and realised.
“Mistletoe,” Tony finally explained. “It’s a Christmas tradition to kiss underneath it.”
“Is that so?” Loki murmured absentmindedly. Confusion was still written all over his face when he brought his fingers up to his lips, ignoring how the Avengers all watched him like a strange animal until he went after you.
It was time to sort things out and collect that unexpected confession from you.
You flinched when the door to the balcony opened. Looking back at it, it had been a rather stupid idea to come out here, especially this late. It was freezing cold, the temperature of the night wrapping around your body like blankets made of ice. Even the bright stars above you—shining out from the black sky to create a clear and beautiful night—didn’t quite help distracting you.
Loki did. He approached you almost carefully, his thin lips pressed together to a thin line. He looked incredibly handsome, dressed in his all-black suit.
“Are you going to explain this?” He noticed your bold staring, for you were, only this once, not bothering to hide your admiration. The cards were on the table now. Loki would be stupid not to find out what was going on with you.
“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just… Tony did that on purpose, he… and the others… they all knew about… well, whatever.”
“Whatever?” The God of Mischief smirked. “Go ahead. Tell me.”
“As if you didn’t know already,”
“Perhaps I have a suspicion but I want to hear it from you. Why have you been hiding it?”
Instantly, your eyebrows shot up. “Hiding it? What did you expect me to do, throw myself into your arms? Because you would have been so delighted with that,” you remarked sarcastically. “I’m mortal. I didn’t think you would ever even look at me twice.”
Loki frowned. Of course you had a point there. He had said it himself, human lives were a heartbeat compared to his own and yet… he somehow desperately wished for this to work out somehow. Did he like you back? Maybe. He hadn’t felt anything like this ever before. He would find out but he didn’t doubt it had something to do with wanting to feel you kiss him again.
“I didn’t want to humiliate you out there or anything.” You admitted quietly then, your eyes fixed on the ground to your feet. You were surprised you had managed to run in those black high heels in the first place.
“You did not. Quite frankly I was unaware of this… tradition.” Was that… a smile? Loki smiled? Surprised, your lips parted, seeking out his blue gaze. No mischief or malice sparkled in them like usual, when you admired him from afar… this time it was, it was… it was affection? “Is it common to run after barely touching lips though?” He continued. Now there was the mischief you had missed. It made him even more attractive, especially since it seemed like he was teasing you not to mock you but… but to impress you? To get your attention?
Your heart ceased to follow any rhythm when you shook your head, giggling a little at yourself. Your Christmas miracle. Was it actually happening?
You shrieked when Loki lifted you off the ground, taking control and sweeping you off your feet, pressing his lips against yours again, this time longer and much more passionate. Fireworks exploded in your body, numbing all of your senses and sending you flying over the balcony and high up into the air to the stars. It felt like levitating, like a beautiful, beautiful dream.
Loki’s tongue sneaked into your mouth to intensify the kiss, battling yours teasingly while his hands were exploring your body, stroking every inch he could grasp. No… this was even better than a dream.
He only pulled away when he noticed you were running out of breath, sucking in the fresh and cold air when he released you. Upon your startled look, he only pointed above him. Another mistletoe, dew-fresh and glistening in the dim light, seemed to practically mock you when you spotted it hanging from the open balcony door.
“I… wow.”
Loki smirked and reached for you, gently grabbing your wrist. You were putty in his hands—and he was very well aware of that.
“Now let us dance. The night is still young.” He reassured you, winking as he did. It was a promise. No… it was a Christmas miracle.
Smiling, you followed him inside, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy with cheer.
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noditchablepromdate · 6 years
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A consideration of the muse via TV Tropes
//Mun comments: these are based on my interpretation of and headcanons for the muse, not just canon events.
Appearance/Physical
American Accents - though Bobby himself is from South Dakota, his accent definitely hints towards a more typically southern redneck. Badass Beard - one of his most distinctive features.  Blue Eyes - sometimes Icy Blue Eyes. Generally when he’s getting particularly enraged. Nice Hat - Bobby is almost never seen without one of his beloved trucker caps.  Older Than They Look - Bobby is in his late fifties when the Winchester boys show up asking for help, and by the Apocalypse he’s sixty. He’s grizzled and clearly not in his prime any more, but is still younger-looking, tougher and much more physically capable than a guy his age would usually be. Seriously Scruffy - Bobby’s usual outfit is heavily worn and frayed clothes - usually jeans, t-shirts and flannel - that he’s owned for a very long time.
Personality Traits
A Friend In Need / The Reliable One - One of Bobby’s defining traits is that no matter what, if someone calls on him for help, he will do whatever it takes to give that help. Even if he’s freaking DEAD. Badass Grandpa - Bobby’s out there fighting evil well into his sixties. Brutal Honesty - He doesn’t really do sugar-coating very well, so if he’s presented with something and asked his opinion he will often be very blunt about what he thinks of it. Catch Phrase - His go-to swearword is “Balls!” and he often expresses his annoyance (or affection) by calling someone an “idjit”.  Character Alignment - Chaotic Good. Bobby gives absolutely zero fucks about legal or illegal, but he’s absolutely committed to helping the fight against evil and is basically a decent and kind person. Combat Pragmatist - He doesn’t fight in a bid to impress anybody, he just aims to take his opponent down and make them stop fighting back as fast as possible, and has no qualms about fighting dirty to get the result. Crazy-Prepared / Properly Paranoid - Bobby regularly doses visitors with holy water, keeps guns to fire several different types of monster-slaying ammunition, and has built a panic room in his basement, made of solid iron coated with salt, that is demon- and spirit-proof. He has also made several copies of all his priceless books and stashed them in safehouses around the country, just in case something happens to the collection in his house. And he does it all because he knows it could happen. He’s even described himself as a “paranoid bastard”. Deadpan Snarker - A fundamental aspect of his personality. No matter what situation, he usually manages to come up with a sarcastic or snarky quip. This can lead to Snark-To-Snark Combat breaking out, especially if it’s Crowley he’s talking to. Determinator - He just will not lie down and die. Even when a bullet to the head puts him in a coma, he spends the entire time evading and holding off the Reaper coming after him so he can warn Sam and Dean about the Leviathans’ plans. Encyclopaedic Knowledge - He’s done so much studying that he’s able to reel off facts about rare monsters, cast spells and recite exorcisms, and draw a number of sigils from memory.  Forgets To Eat / Must Have Caffeine - Bobby regularly stays up pulling all-nighters in order to do research for a fellow hunter, and in such cases will often subsist on strong coffee and/or caffeine pills. This has left him with a reliance on coffee that’s almost as bad as his drinking problem. Genius Bruiser - He looks and often acts like a typical dumb redneck, but spends most of his time at home with his books, doing research for others; when called on to join the fight directly, Bobby proves himself as capable of kicking ass as hunters half his age. Good Is Not Dumb - He might be on the side of the good guys, but Bobby sure as hell is not stupid. Good Is Not Soft / Good Is Not Nice - While he has dedicated his life to helping others and saving lives, and is gentle and caring to those in need, Bobby is also a cranky, short-tempered alcoholic who lives on his own and gives everyone, including the law, angels, and Satan himself an attitude. He’s also not likely to spare enemies out of the goodness of his heart, either - the few antagonists who manage to escape his retribution are usually the ones who talk the quickest and convince him they’re worth sparing. Otherwise he’ll finish them off without blinking. Grumpy Old Man - Has definite shades of this, though often as not he’s just playing it up, for the sake of a cover or to amuse people. Gut Feeling - Bobby’s instincts are usually spot on and he’s learned to rely on them reasonably heavily, to the point where he can usually guess within seconds if someone he knows is possessed by a demon or otherwise not actually themself. Of course, being paranoid, he’ll generally follow his guess up with a test to see how right he is. Handicapped Badass - During the year he spends wheelchair-bound; although he’s no longer able to actively hunt, his mind is as quick as ever and he’s still a crack shot. Jerk with a Heart of Gold - Famously bad-tempered, antisocial, yells at people who ask him for help and calls them stupid, regularly gets arrested and has no respect for... pretty much anyone. Also one of the key players in the attempt to head off the Apocalypse, who loves the weird little family he’s got with all his heart and will do anything for them. Knight In Sour Armor - Yeah, the world sucks and pretty much everything is horrible apart from a few little warm spots... but he’ll step up to fight for its right to exist time and time again, because that’s the right thing to do. Mr. Fixit - As well as earning his living as a mechanic and salvage yard owner, Bobby is able to turn his hand to a number of other practical skills; he’s successfully modified several guns to fire specialised ammunition, and built the panic room in his basement himself, during “a weekend off”. He’s also proven to be very capable when it comes to installing booby traps and surprises around his house, including a trapdoor outside the hall closet that drops straight into the basement and a specially strengthened basement door to keep whoever got dropped in from getting back out.  Nerves Of Steel - He’s faced down dozens, maybe hundreds, of monsters over the years, armed with a few weapons and his wits and, if he was really lucky, someone competent running backup. He’s even intervened in a showdown between the archangels Michael and Lucifer, though that didn’t go terribly well for him. Not much fazes him now. Old Master - Bobby has likely fought, researched and warded off more monsters than Sam and Dean put together, and is known to be THE person to go to if you need help tackling something you don’t recognise. Omniglot - He speaks several languages, including Japanese and Latin, and is able to decipher and translate a huge number of written languages. Only Sane Man - He often feels like this, especially after dealing with hunters who have managed to completely fail at displaying common sense. Physical Scars, Psychological Scars - Bobby has picked up scars from all sorts of monster encounters over the years, many of them reminders of what went wrong on the hunt. He also still has some old scars from his childhood, as his father used to beat him with a belt. Self-Surgery - Given he prefers to avoid the authorities unless it’s really serious, Bobby will generally patch himself up with needle, thread and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Street Smart - Studious as he can be, Bobby is also a capable survivalist and very savvy at bluffing his way into situations - or out of them. Taught By Experience / Seen It All - Bobby’s one of the best in the hunting community simply because he’s made it his business to be. He’s encountered monsters very few others have, he’s studied countless texts to find weaknesses nobody else knew about... and he’s closely linked to the Winchesters, who seem to get targeted by all the weirdest things out there. Which he takes as a learning opportunity. It’s not often he actually gets startled by something. Talented But Trained - He’s a very smart man, that’s absolutely certain, but many of his skills are what he’s picked up over a long, rough life, and he’s honed them till they’re sharp as a razor. The Alcoholic / Drowning My Sorrows - He’s turned to alcohol to cope with the horrific things he’s dealt with, from an abusive childhood to killing his possessed wife to the deaths caused because he wasn’t quite quick enough to take down the monster he was hunting. The Kirk - Usually plays this role between cool, logical Sam and hot-headed emotional Dean. Undying Loyalty - Literally, in his case; he takes lethal injuries several times, at least one of which was deliberately self-inflicted, and still keeps trying to help his boys in any way he can. Workaholic - He doesn’t often take a break from working, at least not for very long. Wouldn’t Hurt A Child / Friend To All Children - One of his more likeable traits - after the horrendous upbringing he had, Bobby will go above and beyond to make sure any kids he spends time around feel as safe as possible. He’s gentle, affectionate, and respectful of their thoughts and feelings, especially if their own parents are harsh.
Personal History
Abusive Parents / Alcoholic Parent - Bobby’s father Ed was a drunk who thought nothing of being verbally and physically abusive, punching his wife and regularly taking his belt to his son. By the time Bobby hit his teens, his mother was also blaming him for his dad’s violence. Back From The Dead - Bobby was killed by Lucifer while trying to help buy time for Sam to regain control of his own body. Castiel, newly resurrected himself, brought him back minutes later after the crisis was over. Bobby will occasionally refer to it as “that time I died” or something along those lines. Calling The Old Man Out - He finally snaps and intervenes with a rifle when his father begins beating his mother, demanding Ed leave her alone. When Ed taunts him and threatens to deal with him, Bobby pulls the trigger. Later in life, trapped in a coma, Bobby sees his father again in the memory and confronts him, fiercely claiming to be far better than Ed told him he was. Dead Partner - This applies to a number of Bobby’s old hunting friends who have died over the years, most notably John Winchester, Ellen Harvelle and Rufus Turner, all of whom he had a particular bond with. Deal With The Devil - Technicaly a deal with a demon, but the same principle. When Lucifer is on the verge of triumphing in the bid to start the Apocalypse, Bobby sells - or, technically, pawns - his soul to Crowley for the final key piece of information that gives them a fighting chance. He also regains the ability to walk, though that was more of a generous freebie on Crowley’s part. (Naturally, Crowley does not keep his side of the agreement, and later has to be threatened about it.) Fighting From The Inside - When possessed by a demon trying to kill Dean, Bobby manages to put up enough of a fight to turn the blade on himself. Hero Secret Service - Technically the hunting community could count as this. Although they are not organised and have no authority figures, Bobby is a major persona within the ranks. Only Child Syndrome - With no siblings around, Bobby took the full brunt of his parents’ abuse; he never really understood why, but his mother once hinted that he was too much hard work on his own for them to handle having another kid on top. Survivor Guilt - Regarding pretty much everyone he knows who gets killed. His attitude is always I should have done better.
Romance & Family
Badass Family - Adoptive version; anyone who spends a while around Bobby will absorb some of his personal badassness, even if they are already damn awesome themselves. First Love - Karen, the first woman he ever really loved, and whom he holds a torch for long after her death. Happily Married - With Karen. Until she finds out he doesn’t want to be a father... at which point they have a fight that never gets resolved, because she’s dead three days later. Honorary Uncle - To Sam and Dean as kids, and to most other hunters’ kids he spends any real time around, he was always “Uncle Bobby”. Ho Yay / Foe Yay - He and Crowley clash repeatedly, but all that snark-laden verbal fencing, long looks, moments of real vulnerability around each other... yeah, there’s definitely something going on there. Incompatible Orientation - One of Bobby’s main attempted defences against the attentions of a certain king of Hell. Like A Son To Me / Happily Adopted - Sam and Dean, who he played a large part in raising until their teens. Also counts for any of the other younger people he takes in and becomes a father figure to. Papa Wolf - Don’t mess with his kids. Just don’t. He will hurt you. Parental Substitute - To many of the young people he takes in or keeps an eye out for, particularly those who have had poor experiences with their childhood. He absolutely relishes being able to be a positive figure for a kid who needs it. Stalker With A Crush - This is how he tends to treat Crowley a lot of the time, especially when the demon’s being particularly flirtatious or overly attentive. Team Dad - To... well, pretty much everyone with the age or life experience to be considered a kid in his eyes. This includes the Winchesters, Jo Harvelle, several other hunters around their age, a freaking Vampire Slayer, and Castiel, an actual angel with the social savvy of a very sheltered gerbil.
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freaoscanlin · 6 years
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Who I Was Has Disappeared
Rated PG, 3000 words. Part of the Safekeeping verse. Picks up at the end of Unsung Melody (Mine for Safekeeping) only this time we’re in Daisy’s point of view. Daisy and Jemma decide to tell the team their decision, and soldier through their first (disastrous) night with Tony.
By this point in her life, Daisy figured she should have been used to, if not big changes, at least rolling with the punches. After all, her life had been a series of heel-face turns, one right after another. Any time she had been close to settling with a family and finding her place as a child, she’d been uprooted. Joining SHIELD had been a shock and a 180 degree turn from living in a van. SHIELD had fallen to Hydra. Her crush had fallen harder into sucking as a human being. SHIELD had rebuilt itself, and she’d gone into the chrysalis. For a beautiful, glorious time she’d had a father and a mother until that had blown up in her face. Her best friend had gone missing, until she hadn’t, and her boyfriend at the time had sent himself into space. Her life of nomadic superheroism had ended abruptly when her father-figure-slash-boss arrived out of nowhere at a fireworks factory to call her home. And then home had been laid under siege, reality had become far too digital for comfort, and before she even found her feet and enjoyed some pie, she’d been in the freaking future.
And yet the baby in her best friend’s arms, sleeping with his face tucked under one arm, that seemed like the biggest change of all.
It certainly felt like the biggest sock to the stomach, at least.
She was not ready to be a mother. A day ago, she hadn’t even been—or 90 years from now she hadn’t been? The future was a strange and complicated thing to wrap her brain around. Every thought about motherhood that she’d entertained had been uncharitable and always would be. As a teenager, she’d feared motherhood, terrified to wind up in the cycle of a foster kid creating another generation to wind up in the system. She hadn’t wanted that for herself, for the hypothetical baby, for anybody, so the best thing to do was simply ensure she would never have children.
And now she had one. With her best friend.
Daisy chanced a peek at Jemma’s face while the other woman was distracted, no doubt lost in her own thoughts as she held the baby.
In truth, Daisy had braced herself for this day, the one where she would sit beside her friend and watch her smile at a baby. Just like so many other days she’d silently and mentally prepared for. She’d already resolved to smile through a series of them: Fitz and Jemma’s engagement announcement, their wedding, their first child. She’d set aside that little bit of strength, knowing she would need it.
And now things were happening completely out of order—and wrong.
She shook her head to clear those dangerous thoughts. Maybe her mind had drifted because suppressed pining was way thorny than unexpected parenthood.
God, what even was her life?
“He’ll need stuff,” she said.
“Hmm?” Jemma lifted her head.
“Stuff. Baby things, beyond the formula and the clothes we bought.”
“I think what he needs above all is a bath, but you’re talking more long-term, I suppose.” Jemma bit her bottom lip as she gave the matter some thought. “We can’t keep him at the base.”
“With the way that this place gets attacked by everybody and everything? Yeah, no.” Daisy shook her head. “I also don’t think the back of my van is a good option for him.”
“Absolutely not.”
“What about your place?” Daisy asked.
“I have no idea what’s happened to that apartment, between the framework, and however long we were in the future. If it’s been over a year, I imagine the lease has lapsed and my credit score is frightfully low.”
Daisy had checked during her trip with May to fetch supplies for the team and for Tony. She cleared her throat. “I’m afraid that might be the case. It’s been eighteen months.”
Jemma drew a quick breath, her fingers flexing a little on her free hand. She sat back, her eyes closed. Since Daisy had reacted with prolonged and vociferous swearing herself, she was impressed by the restraint.
“But don’t worry about your credit score,” she said. “I can fix it.”
“I appreciate that,” Jemma said.
“There’s always a hotel,” Daisy said, shrugging.
“Hotels are never as clean as you think they are.”
“We’ll buy, like, Clorox wipes.” When Jemma opened her mouth to protest, Daisy gave her a sarcastic head-tilt. “A clean-able hotel room or staying in a base where we’re pretty much guaranteed to be attacked in the middle of the night, Simmons. It’s not exactly a ‘six of one, half a dozen of the other’ situation here.”
“You have a point,” Jemma said, apparently tired enough not to protest ‘clean-able’ as a phrase. “We’ll need to inform the others.”
“I mean, everybody already suspected half of it,” Daisy said. Mack, Elena, and Coulson had spent the Quinjet ride from Lake Ontario to the base sneaking looks from the baby to her. May probably had, too, but since she was May, Daisy hadn’t caught her. “It was just the other half of the equation they were missing, in this case.”
“And so much more than that. We’ll have to tell them that we’ve essentially committed to raising a child together.”
That familiar, painful-and-yet-hopeful feeling hit Daisy in the chest once again. Committed to raising a child together. That was—that went way beyond simple friendship. That entered murky territory Daisy had meticulously been skirting for well over two years, ever since it had become obvious that Jemma was beginning to return Fitz’s pining looks. She cleared her throat. “Given that my chosen way of wearing my issues is on my sleeve for the entire world to see, I don’t think anybody will be entirely shocked by this decision, either,” she said. “Again, you’re the unexpected piece.”
For all of us, Daisy thought.
“Coulson already knows,” Jemma said. “He was with me when the results came in. So we’ll just need to tell the others. And Fitz.”
“You know, you don’t have to tell him,” Daisy said, as Jemma’s voice had gone flat. “Coulson would keep it to himself, if we asked. I could do this myself, if it would make things difficult with Fitz for you to have—you know, him.” She nodded at Tony.
Jemma shifted protectively, pulling Tony closer to her in a move that spoke volumes. “I won’t let you do this alone.”
Unexpected guilt prickled uncomfortably at the back of Daisy’s neck for having even offered in the first place. Of course Jemma would grow attached as quickly as she had. “Okay. I just—it’s a lot, you know, I just wanted you to be absolutely sure. With how things are with Fitz…”
“I’m sure.” Warily, Jemma rose off of the barstool, holding still until it was obvious that Tony wouldn’t wake. Daisy followed her to the couch, which smelled faintly of dust. Jemma cuddled the infant closer to her. Her sigh could be over the state of the base, Daisy knew, or it could be more. “You’re correct that introducing a child to my relationship with Fitz will complicate things, but they weren’t exactly simple to begin with. We haven’t had a chance to properly discuss the Framework or Aida.”
“It’s been a busy few weeks,” Daisy said. She was sure she’d made bigger understatements before, but none came to mind right away.
“He needs some time to himself. He’s so convinced that our relationship is cursed, did you know that?”
Daisy grimaced. She didn’t want to argue, as that would mean lying, but telling the truth would also break a fundamental rule she’d set up, one that involved resolutely sticking to the positives of her friends’ relationship, so as not to arouse suspicion. “It hasn’t exactly been brimming with good luck, but then, that’s kind of our lives these days.”
“I know. Gosh, he’s just so apple-cheeked,” Jemma said, and it took Daisy a full second to realize she was talking about Tony and not Fitz. “Look at his little cheeks, he’s so cute.”
“As hot as we both are, it makes sense that our lab-grown baby would be the cutest one ever,” Daisy said, grinning when she was rewarded with a genuine smile from Jemma. “But we’re gonna have to be careful. Your brains, my general awesomeness, and both of our looks? This kid is going to rule the world if we’re not careful. We should teach him to be a benevolent leader.”
“Mm, it would be the responsible thing, I suppose.”
“Well, that’s us. Responsible parents.” Daisy realized she was playing with her beanie, and pulled it back on her head. “Do you think that’s what we’ll be? Because I feel like I might be a disaster.”
“I think,” and Jemma had her head tilted, her eyes focused on something in the distance the way she always did when giving a matter serious consideration, “that there’s a learning curve for everyone. And as I said earlier, you’re one of the smartest people I know, Daisy. You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”
Warmth flooded through Daisy from her chest to her toes.
“Though, returning to our earlier subject, we’ll definitely need to inform the team. It will mean changes for them as well.”
Daisy chewed on her lower lip. “Given how many times we’ve saved their lives lately, we’ll probably never run out of free babysitting offers, at least.”
* * *
The team took it better than predicted. Elena had already guessed, it turned out, and had shared her suspicions with Mack, who simply wished them an exhausted “good luck” as he held baby Tony between his palms with a look that broke Daisy’s heart. He would need time to himself to grieve over the facsimile of Hope. Time. Something they’d had ironically very little of, despite officially being time travelers. But he smiled as he passed the baby on to May. She cradled Tony, rocking him gently, and raised an eyebrow at Daisy in particular, eyes flitting to Jemma.
She knew, Daisy realized. But then, she figured she hadn’t had secrets from May in forever, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise.
Coulson, when his turn came, groused about the name. “You realize Stark was already a pain in my ass and if he finds out two of my agents named a baby Tony, we’ll never hear the end of it?”
“Don’t say ass in front of the baby,” Jemma said.
Coulson reluctantly handed Tony back, though he did so with a warning that they would be inundated with Iron Man baby clothes and baby armor if Stark ever found out.
Fitz was the reaction Daisy watched (and pretended not to). To her surprise, he took the baby when Jemma held him out. There wasn’t any awkwardness or fumbling about from him, though he stared hard at Tony’s face. Everybody in the room pretended nonchalance, though Daisy imagined they were all straining to pick up every nuance, just like her.
“He’s got your nose,” he told Jemma. To Daisy, he said, “Congratulations. You two make a very cute baby.”
“Thank you,” Daisy said.  
Fitz and Jemma shared a quiet look that broke Daisy’s heart a little. Not envy, she realized, but genuine sorrow for both of them and the troubles they faced.
She tried to keep her tone light as she stepped forward and collected Tony from Fitz. “Simmons and I were thinking that it would probably be a little more sanitary to go find a hotel. Just until we can figure out logistics with—you know, him. And while we figure out what’s happened since we’ve been gone.”
* * *
The lure of soft beds and sheets they wouldn’t have to wash first seemed to appeal to everybody else, too. She remembered those days on the run from Hydra the first time, that little roadside motel where the sheets had smelled funky and she’d crawled into bed with Jemma to avoid sharing with May. They picked a much nicer venue this time, with everybody getting their own rooms, all paid for by one of Coulson’s cards. The minute she got her hands on a secure computer, Daisy thought, she had so much work to do, checking their alibis, seeing how many warrants they had outstanding.
Though she half-expected Jemma to follow Fitz to his room, she stayed with Daisy and Tony. They had only the clothes on their backs and things they found in the gift shop, sweatpants with the hotel name and oversized sweatshirts, toiletries and the like. Daisy was sure they’d drawn some looks, but she was too tired to care. So tired. Bone-deep, intense exhaustion radiated through her entire body.
Jemma set the gift shop bag down on the other bed and began to pick through it. “We should probably bathe him before either of us showers. I don’t know how much hot water this place has, but I intend to use up a great deal of it.”
“So shower before you, got it,” Daisy said, earning a tired smile from Jemma.
Tony Johnson-Simmons’ first bath, they agreed later, was something of a disaster. For one, there was a surprisingly vehement argument as to location, the bathtub losing to the sink even though said sink wasn’t quite big enough for the baby to fit comfortably. For as natural as feeding him had felt, bathing Tony was an entirely different story, especially for the two of them attempting to work together. Daisy imagined that truly good parents had soft music, the very best shampoo and soap, and calm, happy babies for a peaceful, harmonious bath time.
They, on the other hand, were a scientist and a field agent belonging to a fallen clandestine government agency, who’d been unceremoniously handed guardianship of a test tube baby. Not much harmony to be found there, but a lot of muttering of “hold still—not him, Daisy, you. You hold still” and Tony crying when they accidentally splashed shampoo in his eyes.
“So the ‘no tears’ claim appears to be a blatant lie,” Daisy said while Jemma gave her a peevish look and Tony screamed directly in her ear. “Wow. Okay. So I don’t think we have to worry about his lungs at all. Wow.”
Jemma, who had a glob of baby shampoo on her chin, sighed at the both of them.
But the trauma finally ended and Tony, freshly diapered—another adventure for both of them, and only not a disaster because Daisy’s time in the future had honed her already lightning fast reflexes—had been swaddled in the softest towel they could find, nestled in Jemma’s arms.
“Let’s never speak of this to anybody on the team,” Jemma said.
“Agreed.” Daisy grabbed her bag and hurried off to take a shower. It should have been a glorious escape, the first real hot shower she’d had in months, a chance to soak her battered muscles and take stock of all the injuries. But she found herself hurrying through it, scrubbing quickly. What if something happened to Tony while she was in the shower?
Realistically, she knew that he had Jemma, that he would be completely fine. But she still hurried, nonetheless. When she emerged, toweling her hair dry, she found him asleep in the little bassinet the hotel had provided. Jemma lay face down on the bed with her arm dangling over the side so that her hand was inches away from Tony.
She wheezed softly in her sleep.
Daisy stood in the bathroom doorway and regarded the two of them, quickly dropping her gaze to avoid being caught staring when Jemma stirred. “My turn?” Jemma asked, her voice rusty.
“I left a little hot water for you.”
“My hero.” Eyes not quite all the way open, Jemma gave Tony one last lingering look and slipped past Daisy into the bathroom. In the doorway, she paused. “You’ll keep an eye on him?”
“Well, I was thinking about going down to the lobby for a smoke and—obviously I’m kidding.” Daisy grinned at the indignant scoff. “Yes, Simmons. I’ve got him. Go on. Shower in peace.”
She climbed into bed and dimmed the lamp so that Jemma wouldn’t have to make her way to bed in pitch blackness. After weeks on a pallet in the inhuman quarters, the hotel bed felt almost too soft. Like sinking into a cloud. She rolled over in the dark, staring at Jemma’s empty bed and the bassinet she’d placed between them.
Tony was a tether, she knew, one like she’d never been allowed to have until Coulson had found her and dragged her onto that bus. And the bonds she’d formed then had been by choice, in blood, sweat, and tears, and could break so heartbreakingly easily. But Tony was a tether of a different kind, a small, helpless person depending on her. Just like he needed Jemma.
Just like he tied the two of them together. Whatever their feelings, they were now in this, side-by-side.
And it was only going to get harder from here, Daisy knew, to keep her feelings to herself. She rolled back over and stared at the ceiling, wishing sleep would come and give her a break. But no, she was still awake when she heard the shower shut off, and the sounds of Jemma brushing her teeth and going through her nightly regimen. The door opened and Jemma tiptoed to bed with an almost inaudible “Good night, Daisy.”
“Good night,” Daisy whispered back, finally feeling her eyelids begin to droop. She felt sleep tug her away at last, a sweet release from the sheer suckitude of the longest day ever. Happy to escape into dreamland, she closed her eyes fully.
Which was precisely when Tony began to wail.
It was, she saw as Jemma groaned and turned on the lamp, already reaching down to pick the baby up, going to be a long night.
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Our Commitments
Summary: Neal (with some help) puts together a nice night for you, culminating in a very important question. Though the answer isn’t what he expects, it ends better for you both than he’d hoped.
Words: 3,081
            You and Neal had a long-standing date night. It was hard to promise that you’d be able to spend time together in advance, what with him being on call for the FBI whenever they wanted him, so instead, you set a standing date every Saturday night, so you both planned around Saturdays. The bureau didn’t often call him in on the weekend, so it usually worked out.
            That’s why it was so weird that Mozzie was the one opening the door for you on Saturday evening, dressed in one of his nice “lawyer” suits, a stemless rose pinned to his lapel. You paused and looked to him strangely.
            “Moz, I’m flattered, but I can’t do that to Neal.” You flatly stated.
            Mozzie looked up at you over the rim of his glasses and sarcastically laughed. “Hardy-har-har. Neal sent me. He regrets to inform you that the Suits have sequestered him, and he would like me to entertain you in his stead.”
            “…Why?” It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy hanging out with Mozzie; it just seemed odd.
            Moz frowned and gestured to his face emphatically. “Do I look like a six-foot-tall model? No? Well, then I’m probably not Neal, so how would I know what he thinks?”
            You knew when you’d stepped on a landmine, so you put your hands up and took a step backwards. “Whoa there, fine, chillax.” You didn’t want to get him started on a rant if you were destined to spend the next several hours with him. “Alright, I guess you’re my date. Where are we going?”
            Mozzie pointedly looked over your shoulder. You sighed and stepped back, moving out of the way. He came out of the penthouse without so much as giving you the chance to see inside, closing the door firmly behind him. So we’re not staying here… Well, you silently hoped that your destination wasn’t somewhere outdoors. You were wearing leggings under your dress, but you hadn’t thought to wear a second layer over your arms.
            You turned towards the hallway. Mozzie straightened down the hem of his jacket and offered you his arm. “Shall we be on our way?”
            No matter how strange it was, Moz was Neal’s best friend, and he’d never intentionally do anything to make you mad at your boyfriend, so all you could do was assume that Neal really had given Moz the green light to substitute himself as your partner. You guessed he’d probably made reservations somewhere and wanted you to be able to make them, even if he couldn’t.
            “I’m at your mercy,” you responded, linking arms.
            It seemed like you were right about the reservations. Mozzie took you to dinner at your favorite French restaurant and was great company (excluding the part where he called you an uncultured Machiavellian because he disapproved of your taste in wines).
            He lifted a glass to you thoughtfully after your appetizers were cleared. “You’ve taken this well.”
            “This is not the strangest thing that’s happened,” you reminded him with a giggle. “Remember the Burmese Embassy?”
            “Ah, yes.” Moz leaned back and smiled reminiscently. “You broke down crying in front of the ambassador and wouldn’t get out of his way until the smoke bomb went off.”
            You blushed, feeling your ears turning pink. “It looked like you guys were struggling.”
            “We would’ve adapted,” Mozzie claimed, holding his head high proudly. “… But your help was appreciated. Neal got really lucky when he found you.”
            You smiled down at your napkin. You were used to praise like that raining down on you in the WCCD; it was how his teammates teased Neal. Mozzie was far more skeptical of you, and hadn’t thought that you’d be able to tolerate the antics and schedule of a con artist. Having him bestow your relationship with a blessing like that meant a lot, especially since you knew how highly Neal valued his opinion.
            “Where to next?” You asked Mozzie when he didn’t immediately flag down a taxi after leaving the restaurant. He was surreptitiously checking his phone. You realized suddenly that this had probably been as last-minute for him as it was for you. “Do you need to be somewhere? Thanks for dinner, it was fun, but you don’t have to stay. I can find my way home.”
            “Neal planned this entire night. We are not skimping out just because he’s not here.” Mozzie insisted, pocketing his phone again. He had a stubborn note to his voice that made you realize that even if you had wanted to go home right that instant, you would’ve needed a serious excuse to do so. “Our next stop is in the park. Are you up for a walk?”
            You scoffed. “Can you keep up?”
            He glared. “I’m bald, not handicapped.” It made you smile and laugh.
             After a long, slow walk through Central Park, you realized that you were making one long loop. Instead of saying anything, you just kept chatting with Mozzie about anything lighthearted. He shared about a letter campaign he was writing, complained about Peter breaking a rake (you didn’t ask), and mentioned an upcoming job in Chicago he was thinking about joining. At that point, you cut him off and steered the discussion elsewhere.
            He kept on looking at his watch. You felt more and more worried that he didn’t actually want to be with there, which made you uncomfortable. You stealthily checked out yours, too, while he was holding a hand over his wrist to shield the read-out from the glare of a street lamp. At almost ten, he seemed like the tightly-wound coil in him had loosened, permitting him to relax. You hadn’t noticed how tense he was until he wasn’t anymore.
            “I know I’ve already asked, but are you sure you’re okay?” You asked suspiciously. What was special about the time?
            “I’m perfect.” Mozzie paused, cocked his head, and admitted, “Actually, I pulled a muscle doing- well, you don’t want to know. Don’t concern yourself with my wellbeing.” After what you’d heard about Chicago, you quickly agreed. Plausible deniability was one of your favorite phrases.
            Your odd little loop cycle ended, and Moz started to take you on a sidewalk trail that you knew went towards the edge of the park. You crossed your arms and hugged yourself while you walked back. There was a yellow cab sitting at the curb when you left the large, open, wrought-iron gates. The conman took you directly to it and opened the back door for you.
            “When did you have time to flag this down?” You asked, wondering if this was another thing Neal had planned in advance.
            “I would never tell my secrets.” Mozzie stated with a completely straight face. “This is where I bid you adieu. Driver!” He caught the driver’s attention and recited Neal’s address, then he leaned back out of the way and held onto the upper frame of the door to swing it shut. “This is where I bid you adieu.”
            To say that you were startled would be an understatement. “But I don’t live there!” You objected. Your protest fell on deaf ears. Mozzie closed your door and started to leave back into the park, abandoning you to the tobacco-scented taxi and the tired-looking driver.
            June’s manor was dark and empty when the taxi dropped you off, and you still didn’t have any texts from Neal. You stood on the porch for a minute, wondering what your welcome status was. Would it be weird to go inside and wait for him to come home? Would June be alright with you letting yourself in while Neal wasn’t there? Maybe you should just call another taxi.
            The reminder of your ride here made you wrinkle your nose. City transport wasn’t exactly fresh or clean. Inside it is, then. You could always just explain yourself.
            June wasn’t so predictable that she stored an extra key underneath her welcome mat, but Neal had let you in on the secret that there was a hollow spot in the back of one of the flower pots. It was clever and crafty, and you kept meaning to ask how she made it. You slipped your fingers in and found the key, then used it on the door before putting it back in the pot.
            The dog was kept somewhere else in the house so that he couldn’t come bother the staff when they arrived in the mornings, but June didn’t usually restrict his house access until a little later. You had to assume she wasn’t home. Since there was no one to say hello to, you made a beeline for the stairs and found your way to the penthouse. You tried the door to find it was unlocked. It swung open easily, showing off everything behind it.
            It was dim, with warm glows from electric candles on pretty much every surface. The room smelled like your favorite perfume had been sprayed around. You started to smile shyly and looked down to your feet, willing the redness to leave your cheeks. Well, this explained why Mozzie sent you to the wrong address and kept checking his phone. You were exactly where Neal wanted you to be.
            “Honey,” you giggled, “I’m home!”
            You tried to guess where he was, what he was doing, because he wasn’t in the main area of the penthouse. Laundry seemed kind of inconsistent with the romantic ambience, and you couldn’t hear any water running from a steamy shower or bath. Then you noticed that the balcony door had been left pushed open. One of the rich, thick curtains was blowing softly from the breeze that came outdoors, and more flickering candlelight was casting thin, warm shadows over the doorway.
            Neal didn’t surprise you very often, and you didn’t think he’d ever recruited Mozzie to help him. You got a little excited, wondering what made the occasion so special. Maybe the bureau had realized what a dick Kramer had been and was offering another parole hearing? It was farfetched, but unless he’d had a spontaneous personal epiphany, you weren’t sure what else it could be. Nothing had come up lately that warranted a celebration of this scale.
            On the balcony, a lovely vase of hydrangeas that complimented the color of your eyes sat between a square pattern of candles. Neal stood by the table with his hands behind his back proudly, wearing a button-down shirt that you had bought him underneath a dressy grey vest.
            Holding a hand out, you asked, “What’s this?” A small, pleased smile played on your lips as you walked closer to Neal, coming close enough to reach for his hands.
            His delighted, proud smile widened. “Showing you all over again the lengths I’ll go to to keep a smile on your face.”
            Because you weren’t nearly as good with words as he was, you knew that whatever you came up with on the spot would pale next to what he could throw at you. Instead, you stood up on your toes and pressed your lips together in a brief but sweet kiss.
            As you pulled away, he leaned forwards, his hands reaching for your waist and hesitating just before he touched you. You just saw longing and affection deep in his eyes. It was the kind of expression you gave him when he was distracted by something else.
            “Y/N.” Neal drew in a breath and rocked back onto his feet, tightening his gentle grip on your hands. “My perfect soulmate.” The heat rose to your face again. He chuckled at the effect he had on you – as if he had ever doubted it – and squeezed your fingers. “You are… everything I’ve ever dreamed. You give me more than I deserve.”
            The butterflies twisting in your stomach made you speak before you thought it through. “Is this where you altruistically pawn me off on Mozzie because you think I’m too good for you?” Although you knew that was unlikely, you were beginning to grow worried. Neal was sweet, but he rarely – if ever – wore his heart on his sleeve when there wasn’t something seriously wrong.
            “Never.” He locked his electric eyes on yours. “I may not think I’m the best choice for you, but I’m too selfish to try to talk you out of it. Y/N…” He swallowed, seeming lost for words, and shook his head. “I know I talk a lot. And you know I’m an expert at saying everything without saying anything. So instead of monologuing about how much I love you, I’m going to just show you.”
            Without letting go of your hands, he slowly sank down to one knee, never looking away from your face. You felt your heartbeat rapidly pounding in your chest, the nerves shooting higher in your belly until it felt like they were choking your lungs.
            “Y/N, you take me as I am. You ask me not to be anyone else. The truth is, I’ll be anyone you want, but it means the world to me that the one you want is me. You have me. You have me for the rest of my life.” Still staring up at you with hopefulness and nervousness, Neal finished with what you’d suspected was coming ever since he knelt before you. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”
            There was no doubt in your mind that you were absolutely head over heels for the man in front of you. There was no question of loyalty or trust. Given the chance, you’d jump to stay with him for the rest of your life. But marriage… the big M word had started scaring you as soon as you grew out of dressing up like princesses for Halloween, and it had never really stopped.
            You just didn’t see how there was really a point, for one. Other than tax benefits and legal details, marriage served to reaffirm to the public what wasn’t really their business to know, anyway, and you knew it was a slightly outdated convention. The purposes it had served in the past weren’t strictly necessary anymore. Oh, you saw the beauty of the ceremony, understood the romance of declaring your devotion to another person for all of eternity. Hell, the idea of being able to call Neal yours, your husband, sent a happy thrill up your spine.
            But that was a huge commitment. It got the law involved, it made it necessary for other people to know where you stood with each other. A relationship by marriage was so much harder to end, so much more difficult to leave if things went wrong, and it meant so much compromise, giving up parts of your independence and your freedoms that you weren’t sure you were ready to share with anyone – not even Neal. The idea of having finances or real estate or insurance or anything else that someone else, even if that person was Neal, had a right to know about and act on freaked you out. Although it made you feel terrible, there was also a small part of you – a very small part, but a part, nonetheless – that worried about what ramifications it might have on your future if you were permanently and publicly tied to an ex-con.
            You’d known Neal was a complete romantic at heart, but somehow, it had never occurred to you that maybe he’d want something major that you definitely didn’t, and weren’t sure you ever would. You just knew that you couldn’t agree to it tonight. You couldn’t agree to marry him if you weren’t sure that you actually wanted to. It would destroy him to know you’d said yes because you felt like it was too awkward or hurtful to say anything else.
            Standing over him made you feel even worse, so you slipped down onto your own knees and leaned into him, pulling your hands free and throwing your arms around his neck. You buried your face in his shoulder while Neal, bewildered but patient, made a soft cooing noise and rubbed his hands down your back.
            After a few seconds, you decided that you’d transferred your stresses between each other enough to reach a tentative equilibrium. You felt brave enough to speak, but you could feel the tension that had built up in his overly-straight back and tight arms.
            You leaned back far enough to put your hands on his shoulders. He put his on your hips. “I love you so much,” you admitted freely. That wasn’t a secret. You would never be afraid or ashamed of that being common knowledge. “And maybe someday, we can get married. Beautiful ceremony, our friends, Mozzie’s weirdly synchronized pigeon task force – whatever you want. Right now, though, I don’t think I want to make that choice, and I really hope that’s okay.”
            “Of course,” Neal responded immediately, sounding surprised and a little wounded that you’d felt the need to ask for assent. “Darling, I’d never want you to agree if you didn’t one hundred percent want to.”
            “We both have a lot going on now. And I think before we make a commitment like that, for the entire world to see, we need to know more about us first. I mean, we’ve never really talked about where we’ll be a few years from now. Do you know what you’ll be doing when your sentence is up? What about when my interim position here ends, and I have to get another job?”
            Neal’s hands never left your waist. “I’ll go wherever you go,” he vowed.
            You smiled at him. “That’s sweet, but I’m not going to be your anchor. You have to make choices, too, and then we’ll have to fit them together. Maybe compromise on some things. That’s okay, that’s what people in relationships do, but let’s get to that point before trying to draw promises on foundations that don’t exist yet.”
            He reluctantly bobbed his head, looking down to the necklace you wore – a necklace that he had given you, in fact, on an anniversary. His eyes went back up to yours with a brighter smile. “Like I said, you have me for the rest of my life. Whether or not I’m wearing a wedding band doesn’t change that.”
            You moved one of your hands from his shoulder and cupped the back of his head. Neal leaned in and tilted his head slightly, his eyes falling shut peacefully. You kissed softly in the moon- and candlelight, holding each other until your knees began to ache from the concrete.
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restingbritishface · 7 years
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all the questions
1.What is your middle name? Grace2. Do you have any nicknames? The ones you call me lol3. Do you have any allergies? Seasonal and maybe dairy and penicillin4. What is the longest your hair has ever been? However long it is now lol5. Apple or PC? PC just because I’ve only used it6. Favorite flavor? Omfg for what though, maybe cinnamon or chocolate7. Have you ever been on a blind date? Nope8. Are you friends with any of your exes? Nope lol they were all weird assholes9. What kind of car do you drive? ‘02 ford taurus10. How grammatically correct are you when you text? Very in terms of spelling and verbs and shit but punctuation is nonexistent11. What foreign country would you most like to visit and why? England obviously lolipo12. Creamy or chunky peanut butter? Depends on my mood lol14. DC or Marvel? DC just because WW15. Disney or Nickelodeon? Disney16. Do you have any stickers on your laptop computer? Nope17. Name/author of the last book you read cover to cover. Do you recommend it? Whatever the second Magnus Chase book is lol18. Do you read any magazines? Nope19. Coffee or tea? Both but i drink coffee more20. What is your go-to Starbucks drink? Either a london fog or blonde roast21. How many things can do with your weaker hand? A lot except writing22. Last show you binge watched? Maybe merlin?23. Dogs or cats? Cats but dogs are good too24. Favorite Disney princess? Elsa/Moana25. Do you like fast food? Depends on my mood but not normally, I just get in the mood for certain things like fries26. Favorite thing to cook for yourself? maybe cookies idk27. Favorite song to sing in the shower? Whatever comes to mind lol28. Have you ever butt dialed anyone? Thank fuck no29. iPhone/iPad or Android? Ipod30. Any styles of music you do not like? fucking country music lol31. Have you ever kissed anyone of the same gender? If so, did you like it? lol what gender are we talking about here (but no never been kissed)
32. Have you ever gotten a ticket while driving? nope33. Favorite emoji? don’t use emojis really34. Showers or baths? BATHS35. Is there anything you regret buying? an amp for my electric guitar lol i’ve used it like 3 times36. Are you fluent in more than one language? nope i wish37. Any movie(s) you can watch over and over again and enjoy just as much every time? moana and wonder woman and pride39. Do you have any tattoos? If so, how many and where? nope not yet40. Have you ever uttered a spoken hashtag? yeah but ironically lol41. Favorite school subject? whatever has the least hw lol42. Favorite non-chocolate candy? ???? that exists?43. Name one celebrity you dislike. Johnny depp because he’s abusive44. If you could have one superpower, which one would you most like to have? flying or shapeshifting 45. From 1-10, rate your singing ability. 846. From 1-10, rate your dancing ability. 847. From 1-10, rate your cooking ability. 848. From 1-10, rate your driving ability. 849. Are you religious? nope lol50. Do you drink soda? If so, which one is your favorite? not usually lol51. Have you ever locked your keys in your car? yes haha52. Spring or autumn? AUTUMN53. Do you play any sports? dance is a sport so yes54. Can you play any musical instruments? piano and guitar55. Are you more introverted or extroverted? both?56. How easily do you cry? i used to cry super easily but it takes a lot to make me cry now tbh57. Last musical artist you saw live? idk maybe jonas brothers58. Favorite YouTube channel? i don’t really have one tbh59. Star Wars or Star Trek? both60. How long have you known your best friend? two years in december61. Have you ever voted for a reality show? nope62. Last CD you bought? harry styles63. Have you ever ended a romantic relationship? yep lol64. Have you ever been broken up with? yep lol65. Have you ever been in the audience for the taping of a TV show? nope66. How long was your longest relationship? Are you still with that person? almost a year and thank god no67. Have you seen any Broadway plays or musicals? ayyy yes aladdin68. Have you ever acted in a play or a musical? no but i auditioned for one once69. How flexible are you? very tbh70. Have you ever sexted? ....yes lol you know that71. Do you own any clothes from garage sales or thrift stores? idk i don’t think so72. Real or fake Christmas trees? i love how real smells but fake is easier73. How many pillows do you sleep with? 1-274. How well can you write in cursive? if i try hard then relaly well75. What is your political affiliation? not conservative lol76. Do you like any boy bands? idk i don’t really know77. Have you ever broken any bones? nope lol78. Have you ever gotten any stitches? yeah when i got my wisdom teeth out79. Do you have any piercings in places other than your ears? nope lol80. What is the oldest piece of clothing you still wear and how old is it? a winter coat maybe 5 years old81. Do you like wearing hats? nope lol makes my hair frizzy82. Have you ever dyed your hair? not yet83. From 1-10, how competitive are you? maybe a 6?84. How long have you been at your current job? 3 years85. Have you ever studied abroad? nope86. Phrase you say the most? no worries87. Have you ever quit a job? nope88. Have you ever gotten fired from a job? nope89. Have you ever won a trophy? If so, what for? yep my dance team won 1st 90. Have you ever been a Boy/Girl Scout? was briefly a girl scout91. Last thing that made you laugh? a video of two hamsters92. Do you eat meat? chicken sometimes but i avoid it otherwise93. Are you more of a morning or a night person? nightttt94. Worst habit? probably talking negatively about myself tbh95. Deepest fear? losing people I love96. Do you believe in ghosts? not really97. If you could take home any animal from the zoo, what animal would you take? Idk maybe a leopard98. Do you consider rapping singing? no but it’s cool99. Favorite costume you wore for Halloween? How old were you? a slytherin hermione when i was like eight100. Favorite store to shop at? kohls lol it’s cheap101. Have you ever given anyone CPR? nope102. Favorite Pokémon? no clue lol103. Do you own any homemade clothing? yep 104. Do you drink alcohol at all? If so, what is your drink of choice? not 21 yet lol105. Have you ever skinny dipped? ...not yet106. Favorite type of cookie? chocolate chip107. Favorite flavor of ice cream? chocolate chip cookie dough108. Biggest pet peeve? shitty drivers and shitty customers109. Are you still friends with anyone from high school? sort of 110. Favorite literary character? alex fierro or nico di angelo111. Are your birth parents still together? unfortunately112. Do you wear or have your ever worn glasses? probably should tbh but no113. How many of your Facebook friends do you actually hang out with? i don’t have a fb lol114. Have you ever been the victim of a prank? yeah lol i have 3 brothers so of course115. Do you belong to a fraternity or a sorority? nope116. Have you ever taken a nude selfie? yeah lol117. Are you adopted? I wishhhh118. Favorite fandom? I’m sort of in too many for that lol119. Oldest memory? napping with my dad on the couch when i was like 2-3120. Have you ever snorted when you laughed? yeah lol121. Can you drive stick? nope122. Favorite Disney song? all of them lol maybe Shiny123. Random boy’s name. Sam124. Random girls’ name. Ellie125. How often do you eat out at a nice restaurant? maybe twice a year126. How many people are in your nuclear family? 8 but we pretend there’s 7127. What accent do you consider the most attractive? ...british128. What is your Myers-Briggs personality type? enfp129. What is your astrological sign? taurus130. Biggest regret? not being more confident131. What type of shoes do you wear the most? ankle boooots132. Do you like any soap operas? nope133. Do you listen to talk radio? nope134. What sports team(s) do you root for? nope135. Describe your sense of humor. sexual and observational and sarcastic136. Have you ever been hit on by someone of the same gender? lol what gender are we talking about here137. Favorite video game? Skyrim138. Name a moment in your life when you were pleasantly surprised. finding out my financial aid covers all my tuition139. Do you believe in serendipity? Sure?140. Have you ever left a movie theater before the movie was done? nope141. Have you ever felt you were born in the wrong period of history? nope142. Is sex before marriage wrong? lolllll yes.... it’s sooooo wrooooong....143. Have you ever gotten a song you dislike stuck in your head? god yes144. Can you handle spicy food? yes pleeeeease145. Have you ever called a non-lover a term such as darling, honey, babe, or dear? yep146. Do you like MTV? lol nope147. Where on your body are you the most ticklish? i’m not super ticklish 148. TV show or movie you quote/reference the most? i don’t really know149. Have you ever lived with a roommate you didn’t get along with? uhhh my parents150. Where do you think is the best place to meet a new lover? idk lol152. Favorite thing to do outside? go back inside153. Where did you go on your last vacation? nyc154. Do you say “y'all” at all? nooo155. Have you ever lived on a farm? noooo156. Do you believe in evolution? idk probably157. What TV channel do you watch the most? i just watch netflix158. Favorite Beatles song? lol idk159. Have you ever been on TV? nope160. Have you ever been to Disney World or Disneyland? disneyland once161. Do you like horror movies? not really162. Do you like to go fishing? no163. Have you ever been hunting? no164. Do you take medication for anything? yes165. Name one item from your bucket list. cut my hair166. From 1-10, how much do you like children? 10000167. Have you ever thought about your wedding? yessss168. Have you ever been bungee jumping or skydiving? no but i’d do it169. Favorite flower? anything bright, maybe daisies170. Do you collect anything? i just sort of collect a lot of shit that means a lot to me171. Who was the last person you told a lie to? my parents172. Have you ever been a bridesmaid or a groomsman? yep173. Have you ever had a fortune cookie fortune come true? idk i don’t think so174. What was your favorite toy to play with when you were a child? barbies i think 175. How good are you at math? basic math is pretty easy for me176. Have you ever learned anything from a how-to YouTube video? yep, how to cry because i apparently need a welding tool for a ww costume lol177. Have you ever participated in a science fair? nope178. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? well there’s more genders than just two so opposite isn’t really a good word there179. Have you ever participated in a public protest? nope180. Do you have a pool at your house? nope181. Have you ever hosted a wild party? nnope182. Do you like karaoke? not really183. Have you ever written a love letter? sort of184. Have you ever ran a marathon? no185. How often do you get mad at yourself? a lot186. Any guilty pleasures? ice cream187. Fruits or vegetables? fruit188. Do you live in a house or an apartment? house189. The countryside or the suburbs? countryside190. Worst job you’ve ever had? customer service 191. Do you hang out with any of your co-workers? i used to192. Were you ever voted homecoming/prom king or queen? nope193. Were you voted a “best” or “most likely to” in high school? nope194. Have you ever gotten detention? nope195. Have you ever babysat? yep196. Have you ever taken a road trip just for the fun of it? nope197. How many drinks get you tipsy? idk lol198. Were you a part of any academic clubs in high school or college? nope199. Have you ever given a public speech, aside from your schooling? nope200. How long have you been on tumblr? since 2013 or 2014
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ellenembee · 7 years
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The Revelation of All Things - 37. In which a nomad grows tentative roots
Read the full fic on AO3.
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On their sixth evening in the Emerald Graves, they checked in at the main Inquisition camp, retrieved the day's correspondence, and headed to a nearby stream to relax for a few moments. Evana now sat on a log a little up the hill from the stream as Dorian and Bull washed up from a particularly nasty set of rift demons. Varric sat to her left, cleaning Bianca, of course.
In the pile of reports, Evana found a small note with Leliana's flowing "L" written across the seal and opened it immediately, her curiosity piqued by the tiny scrap of paper so different from the typical missives from Skyhold. She nearly cried when she read it. Leliana's message was nice - sweet, even - though the tone made Evana feel a little bit like she was failing them. But Cullen's addition left her almost sick with longing.
Samson can wait. Come home. -C
He wanted her home. She had a home, now. Why did that feel like a first?
She put her head in her hands and breathed heavily into her worn leather gloves. She should ask for a new pair, but the gift from Harritt had been her first connection to the Inquisition that hadn't felt like something given grudgingly to a prisoner. She'd received many gifts after that, of course, but Harritt's kindness to her in those first few weeks had made her feel wanted. Welcome. As if Haven could be a home, even if only until they closed the Breach. Then, each friend she'd made along the way had forged another link in the chain that bound her to this group, this cause.
But Cullen made it real. Cullen made it feel like home. And despite how claustrophobic the fortress sometimes felt, leaving Skyhold... leaving him got harder each time. She'd adjusted to the long separation, but she still missed him terribly at times, especially when alone. Thankfully, the company of her friends kept the larger part of her melancholy at bay. She couldn't have asked for better companions.
"You alright there, Snowflake?"
Evana startled and looked up. Speaking of...
"Yes... yes, of course. Just... tired."
Varric let out a grunt. She could tell he was about to say something more, but Dorian's laughter coming from the creek caught their attention. Evana glanced over to see the Iron Bull sauntering out of the creek wearing absolutely nothing. Elves didn't have issues with nudity like most humans, but the Qunari was something else altogether. She raised a hand to shield her eyes and turned away, half laughing and half embarrassed. She hadn't blushed that hotly since Dorian tried to get her to talk about Cullen's... attributes during their time in the Western Approach. She had, of course, flatly refused to talk about it. There wasn't much to talk about, anyway, but Dorian didn't need to know that.
"Creators, Bull! Cover that thing up! You'll scare off the natives and all the wildlife." She glanced over again, but Bull just laughed at her and turned around to show off his backside. She rolled her eyes. "What am I going to do with you, Bull?! And people think we Dalish are savages..."
"You know you like it!"
Evana let out an exasperated sigh. She shared a smile with Varric who then shouted back, "I'm sure someone likes it, isn't that right, Sparkler?"
Dorian let out a haughty, fake laugh. "What was that, dwarf? I couldn't hear your sad attempt at humor over the sound of my own brilliant sarcasm."
Varric chuckled, and Evana gave the dwarf a knowing look. Bull and Dorian had been playing cat and mouse the entire trip... well, in truth, Bull had mostly been baiting Dorian with highly descriptive come-ons. It was equal parts hysterically funny and a little bit uncomfortable for her, especially considering how graphic Bull's come-ons tended to be. Dorian met each attempt with disdain, but she wondered if, underneath it all, Dorian wasn't a bit pleased with the attention.
Turning back, she saw Bull and Dorian emerging from the water, the former still naked as the day he was born, the latter properly covered with a swath of fabric. Shivering slightly at the idea of the water, she began packing up her reports and other items, placing them on a relatively clean portion of her lap.
They'd set up a few other outposts to help hold the Emerald Graves, but each night, she'd asked the others to return with her to the main forward camp. She wanted to send her daily report and then sleep in a familiar place. What she really wanted, though, was to be back in her warm bed at Skyhold underneath a mountain of blankets. Exhaustion pierced through her every bone and sinew. She felt as if she could sleep a thousand years, and the warmth of her comfortable shemlen bed called to her. Shivering again, she thought about washing the blood and ichor off her armor, but quickly discarded the idea as the very thought of cold water made her cringe and curl in on herself as she organized her papers.
She furrowed her brows as she folded the note from Skyhold and the letters she'd picked up from the smugglers. For the first time, wondered if she might be a little ill. Something had felt off for a while now, but she couldn't quite place it. The mild weather in the Emerald Graves should have been a refreshing change, especially compared to the sandy dry heat of the Western Approach, but she'd been so cold and tired that she could hardly enjoy it. She tried to remember when she'd started feeling off...
"Shit," she cursed under her breath.
She'd noticed faint chills the day of their visit to the temple in the oasis. She'd managed to open all the doors in the cold magic tombs before she'd run out of shards. Why she hadn't put two and two together before, she had no idea. The heat of the Western Approach had perhaps made it less noticeable? Fear pricked at the back of her mind as she wondered whether she might have done herself real harm. Time to go home.
"Good news, everyone!" she called out suddenly. "We ride for Skyhold tomorrow at dawn."
Bull just gave the thumbs up from his seat down by the creek, but Dorian looked at her with relief written all over his face as he shouted up to her. "Finally! I'll need a hot bath, a bed and a large glass of wine the instant we arrive, not necessarily in that order. Maybe two glasses of wine... or a whole bottle."
To her left, Varric's softer voice chimed in. "I'm also glad to hear that, Snowflake. We've had a rough time with so much traveling around." Varric paused cleaning Bianca to give Evana a discerning look. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Varric had already mentioned his concern a couple of times in the past few days, but she'd laughed it off, assured him she was just tired. She tried to uncurl herself, but now that she'd recognized the illness, it seemed that much stronger.
"I'm just tired, Varric. And... cold."
Varric gave her the "Aww, shit!" look. "You're cold? How can you be cold in this weather?"
"I - I don't know. I just am. I think..." She paused and looked away, blushing slightly, then turned back to give him a sardonic smile. "... I might be having a reaction to the magic from the temple."
The look intensified. "Andraste's tits! Yeah, we're definitely heading back tomorrow. And next time, don't try to be a hero. Let us know you're not feeling well, will you?"
"I didn't really notice until now," she offered weakly. "It's subtle. And I think it's worse because of the lack of sleep."
Varric stood up and snapped Bianca in place on his back. "Alright, that's it. Get up. You're going to bed right now."
She frowned and looked at the sky. "But it's only seven... maybe seven thirty..."
"And you'll be asleep before eight. Come on, your Inquisitorialness. Let's go." He turned to the other two, who were still sitting together down by the creek. "Snowflake and I are heading back to camp. Remember, we're leaving before dawn, so don't stay up too late."
"Yes, mother," Dorian called back as he waved them off. "I'll be sure to clean my teeth and wash behind my ears before bed, too."
Varric walked with her up the hill to the camp and found her an empty tent. After she pulled off her soiled armor, she reemerged to request a few blankets. She caught the odd looks out of the corner of her eyes, but in the end, she walked back to her tent with an armful of blankets and assurances that she was welcome to them - no one else wanted them in this weather. Varric had stayed behind to speak to the ranking officer in the camp, and soon after, she noticed that the camp had gone from noisy to dead silent. For her. So she could sleep. Such deference still made her uncomfortable, but she couldn't complain. In the quiet, the sounds of the forest gradually seeped into her tent, cradling her in familiarity - the perfect lullaby for a forest nomad.
As she piled the blankets on top of her and huddled into a ball to conserve warmth, she sent up a small prayer of thanks to her gods - all of them - that she'd been blessed with such amazing friends. It took some time to warm up enough to sleep, but she felt herself drifting soon enough. She fell asleep to the sound of Varric speaking quietly to someone outside her tent.
 **
 Dorian glared at her disapprovingly as they rode side-by-side down the path. "Varric and I spoke last night, and we've agreed - you're never to be trusted with your own health again. If I'd known about your previous issues taking care of yourself in the Fallow Mire, I would've been more alert to your idiocy."
Evana could think of nothing to say, so she remained silent. This seemed to irritate Dorian even more.
"Honestly, Evana, I thought you had more sense than this."
"Clearly, I don't, so you can stop being surprised from here on out."
Her tone came out flat, the exhaustion she felt exhibited in every labored breath between phrases. She wasn't angry. Not really. She knew his reaction came from his fear for her. But his sarcastic disapproval made it difficult for her to speak the reassuring words she knew he wanted to hear - that she would be fine, that it was nothing.
In truth, she didn't know if it was nothing. Her body shook involuntarily from the cold, but it hadn't seemed to worsen since yesterday evening. The exhaustion still plagued her, but the long sleep last night had taken the edge off. She needed Solas to reassure her. How could she comfort Dorian before then?
She'd long ago realized that she no longer had the luxury of surety - if she'd ever really had it. People wanted assurance that she could defeat Corypheus. That she'd been sent by Andraste. But she couldn't tell them that for sure. Josephine seemed to think it necessary to reassure people she was, in fact, Andraste's Herald, but it felt like a lie. Just like reassuring Dorian now would feel like a lie.
"Well, you could at least be a little sorry about it," he muttered.
She sighed heavily and then shivered violently. Dorian reached out to rub her back, and she immediately felt the warmth radiating off his hand. She leaned into his hand while giving him a grateful smile.
"OK. I'm sorry," she placated. "Does that help?"
His hand remained, pouring glorious warmth into her body, but his voice turned petulant. "Not really."
"Will you keep doing that anyway?"
"Of course," he replied haughtily, as if he were offended that she'd asked such a silly question.
She patted his leg and then turned her attention back to the trail in front of them, concentrating on maneuvering her horse through the rocky terrain. They had elected to take the flat route between the Exalted Plains and the Emprise du Lion up to the Imperial Highway. Varric and Bull were scouting ahead to find the last leg of a trail the Inquisition soldiers had sworn would get them to the Imperial Highway and then back to Skyhold in less than three days. Dorian continued to push warming magic into her back as they rode together in silence. After a few minutes, she heard a rider approaching, and then Varric appeared. "Trail is just ahead, Snowflake. Think you can ride hard for a while?"
Dorian's warmth had made her feel almost human again, and she nodded vigorously. "If it means getting back to Skyhold sooner, I can."
Dorian patted her back then withdrew his hand. "That's my girl."
She rounded the bend and saw the trail stretching out in front of them, wide and smooth. Once they reached Bull, the four of them set off, riding as hard as the horses would allow. They reached the highway and rode on, making camp later that evening and rising before dawn to continue down the road. Evana felt like she hadn't slept at all, but the promise of a warm bed in just another day and a half pushed her onward. They made it nearly to the Frostbacks by dusk that evening, and being so close, they pushed on until dark. When they finally made camp, Evana struggled to stay awake long enough to get the saddle off her horse. Bull finally took it from her and pushed her gently toward the bedroll Dorian had laid out for her.
"Go. We'll take care of all this."
"But the watch," she protested. "I didn't take one last night either. I want to pull my weight."
Bull laughed quietly. "Then, based on our weight ratios, you get the first fifteen minutes, and I'll take the next four hours. Besides, we've only got a few hours ride until we reach Skyhold. We'll sleep when we get back."
She relented, but only because she could barely keep her eyes open even while standing up. The next morning, she saw the weariness in her companions as they saddled the horses and prepared to ride, and the twinge of guilt pinched her hard. They were doing all this for her. Because they believed in her - believed she could make things better.
Creators, please let them be right.
They rode into Skyhold with quite a bit more fanfare than usual. Usually, she didn't arrive back until late in the evening after the torches had been lit. Now, though, everyone stopped to welcome and bow to her as she rode past the gates and toward the stables. She wished they wouldn't, but she held herself high anyway. They could not see her weak.
Once they reached the stables, Dorian immediately helped her off the horse, and Bull grabbed her bags while Varric headed toward the keep. Dorian tried to put an arm around her, but she held him off.
"No, I can't be seen needing assistance. It will only worry people. I'll take the back stairs through the basement to get to Solas."
Dorian muttered something about her being an "infuriatingly stubborn woman" as he walked ahead of her up the stairs. Once she passed through the kitchen, however, the other mage was waiting to assist her. And good thing, too - even with help, mounting the stairs to Josephine's office wiped her out. The ambassador wasn't in her office, so Dorian half dragged, half carried her to a chair by the fireplace.
"Just rest now," he ordered as he knelt beside her and pushed more blessed warmth into her body. "Varric will bring Solas to you."
Unable to keep her eyes open, she relaxed into the plush chair by the fire as the warmth radiated from Dorian's hand and Josie's hearty fire and leeched into her frozen limbs. The door opened a moment later, and Solas and Varric entered, speaking in low tones as they approached.
"Lethallan, tell me how you are feeling."
She pried her eyes open to see Solas kneeling beside her, a surprising flicker of concern in his expression. She struggled to sit up taller.
"Tired and cold. I can't seem to get warm since the temple."
Varric spoke up. "We ended up going into the temple in the oasis. She opened some stone boxes and pretty lights flew around the room for a moment before ... entering her, I guess?"
Solas arched an eyebrow. "Pretty lights?"
Varric shrugged. "I don't know what you'd call them. They were wispy and glowed. That's all I know."
"Likely some sort of imbuing magic," Dorian clarified. "I felt nothing malignant about it, however. It's a bit of a mystery why she's reacting so poorly."
Solas and Dorian began debating the finer points of magic theory, and though she tried to keep track of the conversation, she found her eyes drifting shut again. She vaguely registered another person entering the room in a rush, but it wasn't until she heard him speak that she knew Cullen had arrived. The anxiety in his voice made her want to get up and comfort him, but her body wouldn't obey any of her commands. She shivered violently and opened her eyes long enough to see Solas leaning over her again, his hands hovering just above her body. Her eyes searched for Cullen, and she found him pacing in front of the fire. He met her gaze, his face etched with worry bordering on panic.
"Her body is simply adjusting to her new resistance," Solas concluded. "She has apparently been imbued with additional resistance to cold magic, but it is currently causing her to feel the cold more acutely. It will pass, and more quickly with rest and relaxation."
"You're sure? How can you tell?"
Cullen's voice reflected his doubt, but Solas answered with patience. "I am familiar with her aura. It has changed - become stronger. It may be that this is a one-time adjustment or she may have to endure this with each new type of resistance she gains. It is difficult to predict such things without having been there to assess the temple and the type of magic imbuing the resistance. I have settled her magic as best I can, but right now, the best thing for her will be sleep and warmth."
Relieved, Evana opened her eyes and tried to sit up from where she slouched in the chair. Solas had told her what she needed to hear. She wasn't dying, so she didn't need special treatment.
"Ma serannas, lethallin. I will head to my quarters."
She barely got halfway out of the chair before Dorian, Cullen and Solas surrounded her. The others hesitated, but Cullen immediately took hold of her, pulling her from the chair and placing and protective arm around her waist once he'd steadied her.
"Really, I'm fine," she forced herself to say, even though his warm, solid presence comforted her in a way she couldn't define. "To avoid gossip, I should attempt to make it to my quarters alone."
Dorian waggled his fingers in front of her. "Ah, but I can provide the warmth. You're going to stand there and tell me you'll have enough focus and energy left after climbing that loooong flight of stairs to warm your own bed? I think not. Let the tongues wag. You need me."
Cullen loosened his hold enough that she could turn and face him. His eyes betrayed his concern, but he seemed much calmer after Solas' proclamation.
"Dorian is right. You need rest, and he can help you with that." He briefly squeezed her hip before dipping his head and lowering his voice to add, "I'll check on you later."
She gazed into the golden eyes she'd so missed and reluctantly assented to be escorted upstairs by Dorian. Cullen seemed just as reluctant to let her go, but finally, he handed her off to Dorian. Thankfully, only a couple of nobles who had taken to hanging around the great hall were there to see her enter the hall with Dorian's arm around her waist. Just as they were turning to head toward her quarters, Cassandra entered the great hall from the courtyard. She walked quickly down the hall to meet them. "Inquisitor! I heard you had returned. May I assist you?"
"Yes, thank you, Cassandra."
The two had her upstairs in no time. They found a full tub of water waiting for her, so Dorian heated the water as Cassandra helped her undress. She felt a little self conscious in front of Dorian, but the mage just laughed at her.
"Darling, I find you beautiful in the same way I find a sunset beautiful. You are aesthetically pleasing to me, but nothing more."
"That's... good to know, I suppose."
"Take it as a compliment, Your Worship. I don't give them often, but for you, I'll make an exception. Because you've rather grown on me these past few months."
She smiled at him. "That must be why you haven't ditched me for your own bath and a bottle of wine."
Dorian mocked offense, but then shrugged. "Believe you me, I'll get there soon enough. You'll be asleep in no time after your bath."
Indeed, she felt herself drifting to sleep several times before she finally finished cleaning herself entirely. Dorian warmed the water a few times to make sure she wasn't cold and then placed a warming spell in the air around her as she got out and toweled herself dry. He dried her hair while Cassandra pulled out a thick sleeping gown, quickly heated her bed and guided her underneath the blankets.
Evana looked at the mage from her pile of heated blankets. "Dorian, go. You're exhausted. Cassandra will stay here with me, won't you?"
"Of course, Your Worship."
Dorian looked at her through narrowed eyes, but finally shrugged, kissed her on the forehead and practically waltzed out of the room with an "As you wish!"
She laughed weakly at him and then turned to Cassandra, who was now standing a bit awkwardly beside her bed. Evana patted the side of the bed.
"Have a seat. I doubt this will take long. I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open already."
Cassandra hesitated for a moment, but then perched gingerly on the very edge of the bed. "I hope you are comfortable, Inquisitor."
"Yes, thank you. I'm warm for the moment at least." Evana paused, then decided now was as good a time as any. "Cassandra?"
"Yes?"
"Would you call me Evana? Not all the time, of course, but when we're among friends?"
Cassandra seemed a little surprised but answered almost immediately. "I would be happy to... Evana."
"And you don't mind if I call you Cass, do you? If you do, I'll stop right now - I promise."
"I have always tried to avoid the nickname in public, but - as with you - if we only use the name in private, I do not mind."
Evana smiled, but then her face quickly grew serious again. "Oh, I forgot! Could you get the papers from my bag and give them to Cullen? He's waiting for them. I didn't want to risk sending them by crow."
Cassandra smiled and stood from the bed. "I am happy to."
She watched the Seeker pick up a bag to retrieve the letters, but her eyelids were too heavy to watch the progress any more than that. She drifted off to the quiet sound of shuffling papers.
 **
 Evana slept like the dead for hours. She woke once toward evening to relieve herself and eat some broth and bread brought up by Cassandra. After shivering herself warm enough to fall asleep again, she woke a second time in the darkness. She had no idea of the time, but the coldness of the room as well as her full bladder told her it was probably two or three in the morning. She threw the covers back and sucked in a breath as the cold hit her. In the dim light of the dying fire, she barely saw the dark form at the side of her bed before she tripped over it.
"Fenedhis! What-?" "Oooff!!"
After several seconds of flailing limbs, she found herself sitting on the floor, or rather on the lap of someone sitting on the floor. Too weak to summon any magic, she tried to push away but found herself encircled by rather familiar pair of arms.
"Cullen?" "Yes. I'm here." "Wha- what are you doing on the floor, vhenan?"
His pause let her know he was somewhat embarrassed at being caught. "I- I came to check on you, but you were asleep. I thought I'd wait for a while to see if you woke up, and then... I fell asleep."
Her muddled brain still couldn't comprehend his words. "On the floor?"
"Yes? Where else would I..."
"On the couch perhaps, or better yet, in the bed with me, keeping me warm. I'm so c-cold."
As if on cue, her body convulsed with the cold and his warm arms circled around her more tightly. She hummed in appreciation. Unfortunately, it also reminded her why she'd woken in the first place.
"I have to... uh... take care of something. I'll be back."
She returned from her private room to find Cullen, sans armor, sitting on the edge of her bed and looking at her rather shyly in the light of the fire he'd built up in her absence. Even with the extra heat, her body shook with the cold. She ran past him and snuggled down into the blankets, but it was too late. The bed had gone cold. She reached up and tugged at his arm gently.
"P-please, will you stay awhile? I'm so c-cold. At least until I g-get warm? Then you can go... if you w-want."
Cullen didn't say anything. Instead, he pulled off his boots and slid under the blankets next to her. She scooted toward him, and he reached out to pull her back against him, wrapping around her small body in a cocoon of delicious warmth. She let out a loud gush of air as her back met with his solid chest.
"Creators... h-how are you s-so warm?"
He chuckled softly in her ear as his warm breath fanned her neck. "I don't know, but I'm glad I can be of use."
She reached back and pulled his arm around her under the covers. "I m-missed y-you. And n-not just because you're w-warm."
He laughed outright. "I'm glad of that." She felt his lips brush her ear and then her neck, and a different kind of shiver spread through her body. His voice was hesitant as he continued. "But mostly, I- I'm simply glad you have returned and that you... Solas says you will be well soon." He paused and took a deep breath before whispering, "I... I missed you so much."
She couldn't respond. Her heart was too full. She let the silence lay over them like a comfortable blanket as his warmth radiated through her. The shivers diminished to the occasional shudder. Each time a shudder ran through her, she would feel an almost imperceptible tightening of Cullen's arm around her, as if he were trying to pull her even closer. She felt herself beginning to drift again, but part of her wanted to stay awake - to savor the feel of him so close to her. It couldn't last, though. She was far too tired to keep sleep at bay.
She woke again mid morning, and she was alone. Someone had left a tray of porridge and some fruit on her bedside table, and they must have built up the fire again, too. She assumed Cullen had left as soon as she'd fallen asleep, but she couldn't be sure.
She smiled to herself as she recalled the feeling of his body next to hers. Her craving for his touch still surprised her. Even something as simple as a brush of the back of his hand was enough to fluster her completely. To feel him next to her, the length of his body curling around her - it was almost too much.
And yet not enough.
She threw back the covers and realized that, for the first time in days, she didn't feel like she might freeze to death. The occasional chill ran through her, but she didn't want to stay in bed any longer. Opening the curtains wide, she let the sunlight filter into the room and then sat down in the expanse of sun cutting across the carpeted floor. She heated the stone cold porridge and began sifting through four weeks of reports. The mountainous pile was daunting, but she soon realized a majority were simply reports from her advisors to keep her informed about matters they'd dealt with in her absence. She dug in and started reading.
A couple of hours later, the sun had shifted angles, so she grabbed a blanket and transferred her work to the couch. Slightly after the noon hour, she heard a faint click of her lock and rattle at the door. Solas appeared at the top of the stairs with a tray in hand.
"Good morning... or should I say afternoon?" she called to him.
Solas turned in the direction of her voice and nodded to her. "I have brought you some broth and bread for lunch... unless you feel well enough to come downstairs?"
Evana didn't want to stay in bed, but she also had no desire to show herself to anyone either. "I think I'd like to stay bundled up here next to the fire, if that's alright with my friends and advisors."
Solas gave her a soft smile as he approached with the tray. "Ma nuvenin, lethallan. I also came up to examine you briefly. May I? I would like to confirm that the adjustment of your body to the new resistance is progressing as I thought it might."
"Of course."
Solas set the tray on the table and crouched in front of her. He raised his hands to hover close to her as she sat. His magic flowed over her, and she briefly closed her eyes, feeling herself pulled toward him. Confused, she flushed slightly and glanced at Solas. Thankfully, he was not looking at her face. She swallowed hard and tried to focus on something - anything - else. After a few moments, he nodded and stood.
"It is as I thought. I have further settled your magic, but keep yourself warm and continue to rest today. You should be back to normal by tomorrow."
He then bowed and turned away, as if he were going to leave. The words left her mouth before she could think better of them.
"Will you not keep me company for a while, Solas?"
He looked back at her and a shadow passed across his face. The next moment, the shadow disappeared as if it had never been, and he turned back to sit in the space she cleared for him on the couch.
"I am glad that you are feeling better," he began quietly. "Dorian and I have discussed the various possibilities and have yet to come up with a viable explanation to the severity of your reaction. However, I do not believe you were in any real danger, despite appearances."
"Ma serannas. I have to admit - I was relieved by your assurances yesterday. I thought perhaps... perhaps I might have been foolish to just accept the magic instead of be wary of it."
"You were worried you had poisoned yourself with magic?"
"It is possible."
Solas considered. "Yes, I suppose it is for lesser people. But you are not one of those lesser people. You are strong and wise and willful. I have great respect for you, lethallan."
Her mouth gaped open, but she quickly shut it and smiled warmly at him. "Ma serannas. I feel the same about you, lethallin. I respect you and your talents greatly."
A sad smile passed over his face, but it quickly faded to serenity. "The peace talks at Halamshiral are approaching quickly. Have you thought of who you will take with you?"
"There are so many reasons I might take each of you. I think I've settled on Cassandra for sure. She'll hate it all, but her connection to nobility lends credence to our position in the Game."
Solas nodded thoughtfully. "Have you considered Cole? He might help you sort through all the intrigue."
"I thought of that, but I'm worried so many people would be distracting for him. I'll certainly consider it. I'd rather let Varric rest before the assault on Adamant. And Sera..."
"Would not do well in a ballroom full of nobles."
Evana sighed and shot Solas a wry grin. "Precisely. This is another moment when I feel I did our cause an injustice by ignoring Madame de Fer's invitation up to now. She would be an asset in this situation. I guess I'll see when I meet with her in Halamshiral."
"I understand your point, but I feel I must caution you. She is misguided about mages and believes that Circles are a good thing. She is willfully stubborn. Nothing you say will ever change that - which means instead of a help during this time, she would be constantly questioning your decisions. We do not need her. She needs us. Do not forget that."
Evana tried to hide her grin but finally gave up. "We are of one mind on that, at least."
"I have found us to be of one mind on a great many things. Those few things on which we do not see eye to eye should not define our relationship, do you not agree?"
She tried not to react to Solas' word choice but answered carefully nonetheless. "I do agree. I value your friendship and council. I hope we can always be as open and honest with each other as we are now."
Solas said nothing but turned his eyes away from her. They sat for a few moments in silence. Then he shook his head.
"I should go."
"Oh... alright." He stood and walked to the door, but she stopped him with her words. "Whatever it is, Solas - whatever makes you sad - I'm sorry for it."
His back was still to her, straight and tense. After a moment, he turned his head slightly toward her and spoke.
"I know, lethallan."
He quickly disappeared down the stairs, and she was left alone with her reports once more. Despite her time with Solas practicing her focus, learning new spells and reviewing healing spells, he was still a mystery to her - impenetrable and a little bit frightening - but he'd always been kind.
Kind but distant and uncommunicative... just like Hanir.
And suddenly, her initial wariness of him made a lot more sense. She knew logically that they weren't the same person, of course, but the similarities had been enough for her to keep her distance - that and her distinct feeling that he was hiding something. The feeling had only grown since she'd known him, and unlike Varric, she knew she hadn't uncovered the source of her gut feeling.
Solas' secrets were not her concern, however. Or, at least she hoped they weren't. It seemed secrets in the inner circle always ended up being connected to the Inquisition in one way or another.
Her eyes wandered to the reports sitting in her lap, but she pushed them aside to eat. Bull had harped at her constantly about her eating - or lack thereof - so she'd taken to eating whatever they put in front of her whether hungry or not. Although she hadn't gained any weight with the travel rations, she hadn't lost anything in the last couple of weeks either. She wasn't about to give Bull another reason to be mother hen. Besides, she still had a few more hours of reading reports to get through the stack on her desk. Then maybe she'd take a nap.
Yes, an afternoon nap sounded like just the thing.
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sisullasuohon · 7 years
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Alkuperäinen
Käsilaatat master post
Under the cut is another bunch of interesting words and translation choices involved in them.
See the previous batch of words of interest here (some scrolling required)
Puzzle Pulma - This is one of the important words I knew would show up eventually, so I’ve given it a lot of thought. I wanted to translate it as ’arvoitus’, that has meaning closer to a conundrum, losing the double-meaning of ’a problem’ that ’pulma’ has and is more mysterious overall. It would’ve covered puzzles based on speech as well. However, ’pulma’ has more potential when taken to word-plays and word combinations, and it’s the more common translation of ’puzzle’. I’ve seen the term ’puzzle game’ translated to ’pulmapeli’ before. Fun fact: ’jigsaw puzzle’ is ’palapeli’ in Finnish, literally ’piece game’.
Core Ydin - The Finnish word means a lot of things when compared to the English one, there’s a possibility it could be a problem in the future translations...
kid skidi - A loan word from English in Helsinki slang. There’s records of it being in use since the 50’s.
Come on/cmon Yritä nyt (just try)/Älä nyt (please don’t)/Liikettä niveliin (lit. movement to joints, meaning= let’s go)/No niin (a common filler phrase that is very context sensitive)/Tule (Come)/Tule jo (Come already)/Tulehan (Come, with an addition that makes it sound less an order, more a suggestion)/other phrases that fit the moment - This phrase is used in many different situations in English, and Finnish does not have an equivalent one. You can say ’kamoon’ in spoken Finnish in casual circumstances and be understood, but it always has a mocking tone to it. I pick what seems to me as the intention in the context and roll with it.
Okay/alright/ok in the lab: selvä/hei/ei hätää/ei se mitään/hyvä/kaikki hyvin/kyllä tämä tästä/oletko kunnossa/jooko/aivan joo/kuuletko/plenty of other phrases that fit the moment, or in rare cases omitted completely outside the lab: ok, okei, ookoo, okke, selvä - Another very context-sensitive word. ’Ok’ is a loan word that shows up only in spoken Finnish in casual scenarios so Gaster is very unlikely to use it in the lab. It’s been around a while but it’s still more of a ’hip’ word, older people only use it ironically (or say the drawn-out ’ookoo’ that wouldn’t sound right at all in half of these). In English it’s way more common and f.ex. ’the readings look ok’ is a proper thing for a scientist to say, but in Finnish it is way too casual, with that sentence it would get immediately specified with words such as ’normal’, ’what was expected’, or at least ’good’. Sometimes I wonder if I’m giving myself too many handicaps with stuff like these.
jeez jösses - Both of these words originate from the exact same name, so they are used similarly in a sentence. However there’s a tiny difference in tone (Finnish one slightly suggests something bad or significant has happened), so I reserve the right to translate it as something else if the situation calls for it.
Clever Nokkela - When casually reading the Handplates I did not notice how often it shows up. ’Nokkela’ as a word has a positive vibe to it, so Gaster sounds mean and sarcastic when he uses it the way he does.
Kindness Lempeys (gentleness) - This should actually be translated to something that’s also a synonym to friendliness, but saying that Gaster’s a friend for giving the cube does not sound ok at all. ’Lempeys’ is still weirdly sappy a word for them to learn from Gaster. ’Kiltti’(kind/nice person) was another option, but the way it needs to be bended in the sentence here and the translation going up on Sunday would’ve made it sound super awkward. I’d rather the bros talk like normal people would, with certain restrictions in their vocabulary (no words that Gaster would not use even accidentally, Sans shortens them but they are still all words learned from Gaster).
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