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#I went through her boss description and it stills tell you absolutely nothing
angelfishofthelord · 3 years
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"I know what you did"
Whumptober Day 4: pushed. (also on a03)
From a dark au idea I've had for awhile where Cas goes off to be a vigilante post 15x03. And after seeing @dadstiel liveblogging about the end of s14 I wanted to write a scene about what happened in 14x19.
There’s been half a dozen similar stories in the past few months: a child trafficking ring in a state up north was busted and all the men holding the children were discovered either dead or comatose; an abusive father of two young girls was dropped off at the steps of a police station, reduced to a drooling crippled mess; an anonymous call about a factory with underage workers, and when the authorities arrived they found the teenagers huddled in the corner and the burnt, sightless body of the boss under the desk.
“He saved us,” the teenagers were quoted as saying in the article. Similar words used in the most recent news where a local gang that was using eighth graders to sell their drugs was uncovered in the same mysterious pattern. “It was this man...he just came in like the wind,” said Timothy Grant, one of the 14 year olds who was a runaway that had been promised protection by the gang but was then forbidden to contact his parents. “Everyone who ever hurt us was….gone. And he said we could go home now.”
Sam closes the laptop with a sigh. The descriptions in the reports vary, but there are always a few that are consistent: a man with inhuman speed, and the glowing light that either destroys the evildoer or heals the injured. It could be a rogue angel, or one of Chuck’s little comebacks like Lilith.
He ignores the other option, the faint suspicion niggling in the back of his mind.
No. It can't be.
Whoever it is, he’s finally close to finding them. They’ve been smart; security footage has shown that they change cars frequently. The most recent one was a blue pickup truck left under an overpass in the next town. Sam has been staying in the area, checking headlines and talking with local police to see if they’ve seen anyone with a penchant for dispensing judgement on those who hurt the innocents. Like some kind of vigilante, Sam thinks as he pulls up a few feet away from the dark outline of the barn. He got a call from the lady at the diner across from the motel he’s been staying at, saying her friend saw something outside the abandoned Miller farm. It’s probably nothing, but he's here to check, just to be sure.
The first floor of the barn is empty but Sam knows that someone’s definitely here. There’s a flicker of light in the loft above and the muffled sound of grunting. Sam puts the flashlight in his mouth and ascends the ladder carefully. He keeps one hand free and on the hilt of the angel blade in his jacket. As he gets closer to the top he sees a pair of black shoes and the bare, bloodied feet of another man tied to a chair. The man with shoes has his back to him; he looms over the seated man, one hand pinning his shoulder against the spine of the chair.
Sam reaches the last rung of the ladder in time to clearly see the standing man shove his hand into the other’s chest. Light swirls around the invasion, blazing and white-hot, before he withdraws his hand. The man in the chair slumps back, eyes blank and jaw slack.
He knows who it is even before he turns around. He always knew, in a way. “Cas?”
Cas glances back at him with a twinge of surprise in his eyes before he turns back around. “Sam.”
Sam steps closer to the man in the chair. His fingers are still close to the angel blade in his jacket. “Is-Is he dead?”
“No.” Cas keeps his back to him, folding up a map on the wooden table at his side. He sounds strange. Frigid. “That would be a mercy he doesn’t deserve.”
“W-What are you doing?”
“Recharging.”
“No, I mean--that’s not--” Sam rubs a hand over his face. “You’ve been doing all of this? All those people--you killed--why, Cas, why are you doing this?” He knew Cas must be devastated after Jack’s death, after Chuck’s betrayal, and some kind of subsequent fallout with Dean, but the reality of what he's been doing still feels like being hit by a tank.
“I’m saving people. Children,” he adds.
So it is about Jack. “Cas,” Sam moves closer, trying to sound placating. He puts a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “I know losing Jack wasn’t easy. I miss him too but this isn't--”
Cas whirls around, eyes burning blue, and Sam finds himself being hurled across the room, crashing into the wooden boards of the wall before landing hard on the ground. He gasps, trying to find his breath, and looks up to see Cas hovering above him, palm outstretched, face wreathed in fury. There’s a slight pressure on Sam’s shoulders; he’s not being pinned to the wall, but it’s enough to tells him that he absolutely will be if he tries to move.
“C-Cas?” Sam breathes. Maybe he's possessed, maybe Chuck is controlling him. He has to get through to him before it's too late. "It's just me."
“Don’t talk about Jack that way,” Cas says, voice low and lethal. “I know what you did. He told me everything.”
“What are you talking about?”
The shadows darken around Cas’ face. “You prayed to him. He was locked in that box because he answered your prayer.”
Oh. This isn't someone else manipulating Cas, this is really him. Sam feels the tug of shame sloshing in his gut but he brushes it aside and instead makes a faint attempt to rise, only to feel the firm nudge of being pushed back. “Look, I know it wasn’t the best thing to do, Cas, but there was no other way, Jack was dangerous, and he--”
“Did you even try to find another way?” Cas snaps. “You fought fiercely to keep Dean from his fate in that box. Yet you were ready to condemn Jack to an eternity of that same fate without a second thought.”
Sam swallows hard. He tries to remember all the mental gymnastics he did to convince himself why Jack had to go in there, but Cas is still talking. “Do you know why other angels don’t usually answer prayers? Because it makes us vulnerable. It’s not considered a wise strategic move because it calls an angel, by name, to a specific place. There’s no time to scope out the destination for danger or to evaluate the potential risks.” He moves in closer, towering above him. “Or if it’s going to be an ambush.”
“I’m sorry, Cas.” He really is. “We didn’t handle it right, and I wish to Go-” he catches himself. “I wish Jack was still here so he could know how sorry I am. But Cas…what you’re doing isn’t right either. You must know that.”
The eerie glow of Cas’ eyes pierce through the night. “You know, when the Bunker’s alarms went off, it wasn’t just because Jack was trying to break out of the box. I could hear him. He was screaming. The same way he was screaming when….” the light in his eyes suddenly dims and Cas’ hand drops back to his side.
The pressure on Sam yields abruptly and he immediately leans forward, gulping for air. He knows what Cas didn’t say; the sight of Jack collapsing in that graveyard, crying out as searing light ruptured from him, still frequents Sam’s own nightmares. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, useless as the words are. “It wasn’t--”
“I loved him.” Cas isn’t looking at him now; he’s focused on some distant point above his head, blinking hard. “You have no idea how much Jack meant to me, how much I--” his voice catches and he turns away. In between the shafts of light Sam can see his jaw working, the bob of his throat and clench of his fist as Cas struggles to compose himself. A cold, sickly way of guilt washes over Sam and he feels almost nauseous. Every excuse and reasoning dries up on his tongue.
After a minute Cas glances back at him, his expression once more glacial. “You and Dean have each other. Don’t come looking for me again.”
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if I can never give you peace — zero || Jungkook
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Summary: It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.
Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.
Until he comes back.
Also available on Ao3.
Word count (chapter): 5.8k
Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers, heavy on angst, slow burn, eventual smut
Warnings & Tags (chapter): Descriptions of Violence, Tension, Dehumanization and general poor treatment of hybrids
A/N: So I have two modes and those are tooth-rotting fluff and angst feast. This is... not fluff. I hope you’ll enjoy this first installment and introduction to the series, and I will see you soon for the next one!
Next
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Your eyes follow Jungkook’s every step as he walks through the crowd and enters the cage that serves as a ring. He doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re watching. You’re always watching. You’re standing in your usual corner, from where you make sure everything goes smoothly. Two tall, muscular men stand on either side of you. They look like they’re your bodyguards, but really, they’re here to handle him if he tries to do something. To everyone in the room but the two of you, this looks like every other fight night since the very first time he came to the Circle.
You’re too far for him to smell you, especially over the crowd of excited, sweaty men, but if he did, he’s sure he would pick up on the bitter scent of anxiety, would hear your heart beating a little too fast. He’d say you’re lucky the guards aren’t hybrids, but he knows that’s not the case. You never count on luck. Everybody knows that. That’s what makes you so good at your job. That’s what might just save his life.
He glances at you, finds your eyes glued on him, and gives you a smirk, which reveals his abnormally pointy teeth for a rabbit hybrid. It’s been over a year since they’ve been sharpened for him, to make him look more threatening. You’re used to them, but he still sees you swallow. For the first time he wonders, vaguely, if you had any say in that. You’re the one he meets with nowadays, but you’re not his owner, after all.
Your eyes leave him to look at his opponent. The man’s taller and has broad shoulders, he seems to have some training based on his on-guard position, and he’s older than him. You couldn’t find many informations on him, but based on his attributes, he’s probably some kind of dog hybrid.
You both know he doesn’t stand a chance.
“On my left,” the announcer roars, “some fresh meat! I give you… Jin!”
There are enthusiastic shouts, and the man shoots nervous glances around him at the crowd all around him. It’s clear that he isn’t used to that type of setting, and you feel an unexpected wave a guilt in your chest. He’s going to get destroyed tonight, you’re sure of it. You’re the one who suggested that Jungkook should fight a newbie, for the show. You don’t regret your decision, but you don’t feel good about it either.
“And on my right! The man who needs no introduction, who has won thirty! Two! Fights in a row, I give you… Jungkook!”
The crowd goes hysterical, and the hybrid facing him winces again. If he thought he had chance before that, it’s clear that he doesn’t anymore. You wonder if he’d heard about Jungkook, if his owners had prepared him well enough, if whoever owned him was betting against him. You wonder if he’d just been told he would be fighting a rabbit hybrid and assumed he would be fine.
Jungkook’s long ears are flat against his head, carefully tucked under a headband, and without those, he doesn’t look like a rabbit hybrid, too tall and broad-shouldered. Then again, he had never really been your typical rabbit hybrid.
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Truth was, you had been relieved when you had been assigned to working for the daughter of Mr. Xanders. Your whole life, you had known you would end up here. Your dad had worked for the Family since before your birth, and though it was clear your mom disapproved, she had never held any illusion that you would escape it. If anything, you were the sacrifice, a way of making sure your siblings wouldn’t be forced to work for the most powerful crime family in town. That was, if you did good enough.
Getting assigned to the girl who was nicknamed “the Princess” was both a blessing and a curse. It meant you got to stay away from most of the illegal stuff, as the girl was notoriously sheltered from all of that by her father. However, it also meant that you had to basically babysit the spoiled seventeen years old, despite her being only a few years younger than you. You had dressed as professionally and sternly as you could, adorning yourself in a dark woman’s suit, but she hadn’t seemed impressed.
That was how you found yourself here, at an auction for rare hybrids. You thought the whole thing was grim — oh, how naive you had to be back then, to think this was bad — but you had obeyed orders without batting an eye. You had to do this right, and this was a pretty easy job, after all.
You gritted your teeth silently as various hybrids were brought on stage, exhibited and bought, one by one. The status of hybrids was a complicated subject in the country, always had been, but you had grown up in a poor area, where a lot of hybrids lived freely, and the idea of owning what you knew to be a person made you sick to your stomach. At least the Princess hadn’t said a word the whole time you’d been there, and you had hopes that you would leave without — God — buying someone.
Naive. So damn naive.
“I want this one,” the girl had announced decidedly, pointing at the stage with a movement of her chin.
Shit.
You looked at the stage. There, the auctioneer was highly praising the hybrid who had last been brought on stage. A surprisingly tall and muscular rabbit hybrid, with fluffy black hair and long ears falling on either side of his head. He was shaking slightly, sending terrified looks around him, and your heart tightened in your chest.
Naive and soft.
“Are you sure?” you asked, and the girl rolled her eyes.
“Do your job. Get him for me.”
Numbers flashed in your mind, the exact amount of money you were allowed to spend clear as day. It made you feel a little better, for a second. This was what you were good with; numbers, facts, informations. If you thought of the hybrid as just that — a number,  an element to compose with — you should be able to do what you were supposed to do. Do your damn job, and ensure your little brother never ever had to work here, because they wouldn’t be as kind to him.
You took a deep breath, and, after a few people had already considerably raised the price, you made your bid.
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Jungkook walks to the center of the ring, arms raised high. He’s good at giving a show, good at most things, actually. He looks good here, confident, knowing exactly what he’s worth, and he’s nothing like what he was that first day. There is absolutely no fear on his face as he fists the air and people shout for him. Instead, he seems to be positively thriving on the attention he’s getting.
He’s a favorite here, because he always gives people what they came for. He makes the fight last, makes it theatrical, with twists and impressive moves. It’s been a while since he’s struggled in a fight, really struggled, which has made it easier. You recognize you’ve played your part in that. You have your word to say when picking his opponents, and you don’t want him to— well, to die, or to be too badly injured.
You know it’s not much. You know no matter what you tell yourself, that’s not protecting him. You know you should have acted a lot earlier.
But you didn’t.
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They gave you Jungkook as soon as the payment was confirmed, which didn’t take long. People were fidgeting in the room, careful not to stare too long at the Princess. They knew who she was, of course. The bodyguards and your ghostly presence, one step behind her, did not do anything to soothe their nerves. No one actually knew you back then. You hadn’t earned your reputation of efficiency, no one had called you a cold-hearted bitch yet, though that would pretty much become your identifier, but you were still somewhat unnerving, with your stillness and your all black attire.
Which was why you never tried to add color to it.
The Princess seemed to be in her element, not bothered by the silence and people’s obvious fear of her, even for a second. Instead, she was watching her acquisition. The hybrid — Jungkook, you remembered, because you’d heard his name after winning the auction — was staring at the floor, stealing glances at her every once in a while, before quickly looking away again. He was clearly shy, and terrified, and it looked like the Princess liked that.
When they handed the leash to her, she was quick to clip it on his collar, and you held back your disgust. Your mind went to Mark, a kind golden retriever hybrid you had grown up with, and the idea of him being collared like that almost made you retch.
But, of course, none of that could be seen on your face. You had been told that you had the perfect poker face, unreadable at all times. In moments like this, it was a true blessing.
“Hello, Jungkook, I’m Anna, and I’m your new owner. I’m going to take good care of you.”
Then Jungkook looked up at her, briefly, and an adorable smile curved his lips.
You knew then that this could only end in pain and heartbreak.
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Once Jungkook is done, he turns to face Jin. The other hybrid looks like he wants to run away, but even if he tried it, he’d be pushed right back in. So he does the smart thing, and prepares himself for the fight, lifting his hands to protect himself. Jungkook does the same thing. There is a brief moment of silence, everyone bracing themselves for what is to come. Despite his earlier display, Jungkook is deathly calm now, every muscle in his body ready for action.
The second the bell rings, Jungkook is moving, so fast he’s almost blurry, and you have to avert your eyes when his fist connects with the other hybrid’s chest.
This all feels like it could have been avoided.
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A relationship quickly developed between the shy bunny and the Princess. You didn’t say anything about it; that wasn’t what you were here for. A baby-sitter, sure, but not a chaperone. Anyway, it seemed like Mr. Xanders wasn’t too worried about that, and his daughter was free to do whatever she wanted as long as she didn’t get pregnant. You supposed a hybrid was the perfect choice for that, with how rare it was for them to have children with a human. It could happen, of course, but it was highly unlikely without medical assistance.
Still, you weren’t sure you liked the relationship all that much. It just felt like Anna had so much power over him. He was a couple of years older than her, since selling hybrids under eighteen was technically illegal, but it was clear from the very beginning that he had been sheltered and didn’t have much experience in— well, in any areas. A sickening feeling told you that had probably been done on purpose by the people who had raised him. You were well aware of what rabbit hybrids were usually bought for.
You watched, silently, as they got close, as Anna’s hands started to easily find Jungkook’s, as Jungkook started to rest his head on her shoulder, to scent her, as he fell in love with her. Today, maybe you would have been annoyed at the sight, annoyed by his innocence, but back then, it only made you sad.
You were also there to see Anna grow bored of him. It didn’t even take her that long, no more than a couple of months.
When she insisted on going to another hybrid auction, and asked you to bid on someone else, you knew that it was over.
“Get him to fight,” Mr. Xanders told you dismissively at a meeting you had with him. “I want the money he cost me back.”
“He’s a rabbit hybrid,” you had said, frowning. “He’s not exactly the fighting type.”
“I didn’t tell you to make him win,” he scoffed. “I don’t care if you have to bet against him. Get my money back. After that, I don’t care what you do with him.”
You didn’t realize then that that was a ‘promotion’, and that this meant you would start working in illegal settings. All you knew was the painful weight in your chest at the idea of sending Jungkook to his death. You had kept away from him, not trying to create any bonds with him, but he smiled politely and kindly when he saw you.
God, he was in love with Anna. You were sure he had noticed her losing interest in him, but you also believed he held out hope. This could— This would probably be crushing for him.
So you took the matter into your own hands. You didn’t just sign him up for an upcoming fight, but you also found him a trainer, the best you could.
“Does Anna want me to learn how to fight?” he had asked you, big brown eyes looking at you, when you had told him about the training. “So I can be her bodyguard?”
“My orders don’t come from Anna,” you’d answered, trying to stay as distant as possible.
“But will she— Do you think she’ll like me again, if I learn to fight?”
No. You thought Anna had gotten everything she wanted from him.
“I don’t know,” you had answered. You couldn’t. You couldn’t do it.
The first fight had been brutal. Devastating, in fact. Jungkook had been training, and you’d been told he was good at what he was doing, but, as a newbie, he’d been sent against an expert fighter — “for the show”, you’d heard, the exact same thing you would use as well, years later —, and you were later told he was lucky he’d made it out alive.
You stayed next to him in the hospital room. As a hybrid, he healed quickly, but he still looked terrible, body marred with black and blue, lip busted, and black eyes. When he woke up, he looked around the room, every movement he made clearly painful, and you knew, at his expression, that there was only one thing he thought about in that moment.
Anna wasn’t there.
You would never forget the look he gave you then. The way he set his jaw, the way something hardened in his eyes.
“Get out,” he had said, and you were pretty sure he had meant for it to sound aggressive, but he wasn’t good at it yet, so it was more pleading.
You had gotten up, made a move to— to pat his shoulder, to do something, but you had refrained and your hand had fallen down to your side.
“I’m sorry,” you had said, and you had left him alone in there, with his broken hopes and heart.
That night was the first and last time you considered leaving your job.
But there was no quitting, where you worked.
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In the ring, of course, Jungkook is good. He leaves an opening for the guy to place a few punches, ones that can’t hurt him too much. The crowd is delirious, bets are being placed. There’s a rumor that Jungkook was injured at the last fight so tonight could be the night where he loses his title, couldn’t it? The first round is coming to an end, and he doesn’t seem to have done much so, surely, he’s not going to be able to end that guy by the third, like he usually does — and if he does, hey, at least they’ll have had one hell of a show.
The three rounds thing is something you asked him to do after an organizer told you people needed that to feel they had gotten their money’s worth. You had told Jungkook, and he’d growled an answer, but he had never won in less than that since. For all his obvious hatred of you, the organization, and everything that surrounded him, he didn’t actively oppose you most of the time. He had tried to run away, twice, but when those attempts had failed, he had seemed to realize that it was just easier to go with the flow.
When the second round starts, though, he goes wild. His bare feet are light on the floor,  his fists quick and precise. He doesn’t leave anything to luck either. Every punch lands exactly where he wants it to, when he wants it to. He dodges his opponent’s attacks easily, and he sees in his eyes the moment when the man realizes that he’s not winning this. He sees confidence turn into surprise, then into fear, and it only makes him want blood.
His right hook hits the man in the jaw with all the power he can put into it, and this time you don’t wince. You’ve gotten used to the violence now — it always takes you a while — and you’re mostly impressed at how good Jungkook is.
But that’s exactly why you’re in this situation, isn’t it?
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“We should put him down,” Mr. Xanders said, with the exact same dismissive tone he had used years ago to tell you to make Jungkook fight, and you looked at him in disbelief. Surely, surely, he didn’t mean—
“I really disapprove of that solution, dad,” Anna said, shaking her head, and you realized he did.
You had been surprised by Anna’s presence, when you had walked into the office. You hadn’t worked for her in a long time, having graduated to far worse things. You had served your purpose, you supposed, made yourself practically indispensable when it came to the organizing of the Family’s business, as you knew the workings of the Family in and out, both legal and… less legal aspects. No one had ever said anything about your siblings joining.
“He attacked someone,” her father simply shrugged.
“If I may, Mr. X, it was after a fight and the man was being really aggressive after he lost the money he’d bet against—”
“I don’t care,” he said, waving his hand like you were just an annoying fly. “He attacked a human. We can’t have our hybrids doing that, otherwise it will just be chaos. You’re smart enough to know that.”
You swallowed. Something inside you was screaming. You had long shut down any form of moral compass, but it seemed like Jungkook always awoke the last remnants of it. You were pretty sure he despised you now, and you didn’t blame him for it. But, just like what you’d thought when Anna had bought him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this just wasn’t right.
“I understand, sir.”
“That’s a horrible thing you’re doing, dad,” Anna insisted. “I thought you’d try to at least reason with him, (Y/N).”
That wasn’t your job. You knew when your opinion was asked on those things, and now was not one of those times. You also knew that you hated that she called you by your first name, like the two of you were friends, and you didn’t say anything about that either.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Mr. Xanders said warmly, like he had just refused to buy her an expensive toy, and not condemned a man to death. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
Anna sighed and rolled her eyes, and you assumed she’d probably stay mad at him for a while. But not too long.
Your heart was beating so loud in your chest you barely heard Mr. Xanders dismissing you, and you were relieved to be left alone when you walked out. There was only one thing you wanted to be thinking about now.
How were you going to save Jungkook’s life?
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Jin hits the floor and doesn’t get up. It’s not an actual knock-out, because he’s still moving around, but Jungkook doubts he’ll even try to get back on his feet. The guy seems to be smart, he probably realizes that that would be suicide. Another minute with him on the ring? Nah. That would be a really, really stupid thing to do. Jungkook’s knuckles are bleeding — he doesn’t think they’ve been intact once in the four years he’s been fighting — and he’s pretty much unstoppable, right now.
He lets the referee grab his arm and lift it in the air as the crowd screams. They’re particularly loud tonight, because he won in two rounds. It’s not really a surprise when they force the entrance of the cage, flooding it, and Jungkook looks for you, almost instinctively. When he finds you, your eyes are on your phone. You look like you couldn’t care less about what’s happening around you, and he knows you do genuinely dislike the fights. You’ve never made it a secret. You’ve never taken care of the other hybrids owned by the family who participate, either. He doesn’t know if he’s your burden, or if you’re the one who chooses to still do that. Before, he wouldn’t have doubted it. Now… He’s not so sure.
Your eyes flicker up to his for a second, and you nod, imperceptibly. Your heart is probably beating as loud as his right now, though for different reasons.
Jungkook examines you, takes in how out of place you are in that environment, immaculately dressed, small glasses on your nose, hair pulled back, and lets himself be amused by it, one last time.
And then he’s gone.
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You only visited Jungkook when there was about to be a fight, and it was clear he really didn’t like it when you showed up. You always seemed to be interrupting him, whether it was a training session or a work-out. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him do something other than those two things. You didn’t know if he had anything else.
You brought some food from a restaurant he liked, as you usually did, and got some things for the guards who would be around. That wasn’t as usual, but you had done it before, so hopefully it wouldn’t make anyone suspicious and it would allow you to have some privacy with Jungkook.
He sat down opposite from you, immediately diving into the food you’d brought, and you watched silently. His shoulders were tense, never completely down but, though he would hate to admit it, he was more relaxed around you than around anyone else. It said a lot about his life, about how desperate he was for any form of companionship, that the way you told him about his opponents almost made him feel like you cared about him. It said a lot that your presence comforted him, and it was pretty pathetic, if you asked him.
“So, who am I fighting?” he asked while eating. He never bothered with his manners when he was around you.
“A newbie,” you said. “Some fighting training from what I’ve gathered, but he shouldn’t be an issue.”
He growled. The sound was unnatural for a rabbit hybrid, but he had mastered it over the years. It was a good way of intimidating people.
“Really? I thought I told you I wanted a challenge.”
You didn’t reply immediately, and that made him look up at you. When he did, you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, hesitant. That was completely out of character. Then, you made up your mind, and your expression turned back to the unreadable one he was so familiar with.
“Keep eating, and don’t raise your voice” you ordered.
He lifted an eyebrow. Normally, he would have done something like folding his arms and waited for more, in a defiant attitude, but this was you. You would never do something like that just to assert your power over him. He hated your guts, but that was one thing he could say about you.
“Mr. X is going to have you killed because you attacked that man at your last fight.”
There. Direct, to the point, not a useless word — though you couldn’t bring yourself to use the words “put you down”. Jungkook froze for a half a second, than resumed his eating, albeit slower than before.
“It was all good as long as long as I brought him money, but he doesn’t want any trouble for it, huh?”
His voice was bitter and low, barely more than a rumble. You were confident no one was paying attention to you, since the guards ate in another part of the house and no one cared about what you were saying. They could see you through the picture window, but they couldn’t read lips. Still, you lowered your voice as well.
“Win your next fight in two rounds,” you said, instead of answering him.
He shot you a dirty glance.
“Do you really think that’s what I—”
“That should get the crowd to lose their mind,” you continued. You had gone through all the possibilities in your mind, over and over again. This was the one that was the safest for you and your family, while giving Jungkook a reasonable chance of survival. “When that happens, you’ll use the hysteria to leave through your opponent’s entrance.”
This got his attention, and he stopped trying to interrupt you, finally focusing on your words.
“I can probably get you somewhere between five and ten minutes before everyone finds out you’re missing.”
He scoffed.
“That’s very generous of you.”
“I also won’t look too hard for you,” you added, because you would obviously be in charge of that as well. “So as long as you don’t do a terrible job hiding, we probably won’t find you. Stay away from hotels, and don’t get noticed.”
Jungkook stayed silent for a while. He didn’t look at you, jaw set, and you were pretty sure he was weighing the pros and cons of your plan.
“I don’t know if there’ll be another chance,” you told him truthfully. “They want you gone after the fight.”
The silence went on a little longer, before Jungkook spoke again.
“Anna’s said yes to that?”
You didn’t miss the way his voice faltered on her name. You didn’t think he had spoken to her in years, but he still had a soft spot for her, and being reminded of it always made you sad. You had accepted, a long time ago, that life wasn’t fair, but that was particularly true when it came to him. None of what had happened to him was fair. The shy boy with the wide eyes you’d helped buy at the auction deserved better. You didn’t, probably deserved every single bad thing that had happened to you, but for him, you wished you had done something — anything — differently. So you wouldn’t be faced with a jaded, cynical version of that boy right now.
“She opposed it, but her father is still going through with it.”
“So she didn’t oppose it much.”
You didn’t answer that. It was true, and you both knew it.
You glanced at your watch. Your time here was almost over, and you had a lot of responsibilities.
“Will you do it?”
Jungkook glanced at you, eyes wary.
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth? You could just do that so you could have me killed and say I tried to escape.”
You shook your head, almost amused by the possibility.
“I would gain nothing from doing that, and if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t go about it that way. Will you do it?”
This time, he nodded. He didn’t trust you, but he thought you were telling the truth on this.  So following your plan would be just as well.
“Good. I’ll see you for the fight.”
This would have been a good moment to wish him good luck, probably, but you didn’t do luck, so you didn’t say anything. You gave him a quick nod, gathered your things, and then you were out.
You didn’t think to say goodbye.
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“We’ll get him when the crowd’s dispersed,” one of the bodyguards says, and you hum noncommittally in response, eyes on your phone.
Moron.
If these two were the ones you usually work with, they would know that your usual protocol is to go get Jungkook as soon as the referee’s lifted his hand up. That way, you can get him out as quickly as possible and you don’t have to worry about him getting mobbed. But you’ve changed your team the day Mr. Xanders asked you to ‘put Jungkook down’, so they have no idea. It’s been a week since then, which shouldn’t make it too suspicious. Hopefully.
When the crowd does move enough to see what’s going on in the cage — three minutes — one of the two men says, voice worried, “Hey, can you see him?”
Your head snaps up and your eyes scan the room. You’re relieved to see that Jungkook’s nowhere in sight.
“Where is he?” you ask urgently, and the men seem to shrink under your glare, exchanging worried glances. You roll your eyes and sigh. This may be your plan, but they’re still acting incompetent. Which is good for you, sure, but the perfectionist in you is annoyed.
“You two should pray he’s in the changing room,” you spit out as you march towards it. It takes some struggle, because the crowd isn’t exactly calming down, but it’s not too long.
Of course, Jungkook isn’t in the changing room. It was a bad idea to go look there anyway — usually you would probably have already informed everyone that he had disappeared — but these two don’t seem to realize that.
“Go search the fighting room,” you order, “make sure you haven’t missed anything. Then check the surroundings. I’ll stay there. Let me know if you find something.”
They practically run out, and you allow yourself to sit down. This isn’t even dangerous yet. If Jungkook’s done that part correctly, he should already be too far for them to find him. As far as you’re concerned, you’ve bought him — you check your watch — seven minutes. But even if you don’t doubt him, you still feel terror at the idea they could catch him. You don’t know what would happen then. You don’t want to think about it.
The seconds tick by. It’s been almost exactly ten minutes when your phone rings.
“Hello, Miss—”
“Do you have him?” you bark.
There’s a silence.
“I want an answer!” you snap.
“No. I’m sorry. We’ve lost him.”
You hang up immediately and start to dial another number to let people know Jungkook’s missing.
But, before you actually call, you let out a brief sigh of relief.
This just might work.
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You get home late the following night. When you do, you’re absolutely exhausted. You’ve had a terrible day, unable to sleep a wink, and you got thoroughly chewed out over Jungkook going missing. You think Mr. X was suspicious of you, because you basically don’t fuck up, ever, but then Anna started to wax poetics about how “Jungkook was a soul who wanted to live”, and you don’t think he bought it, but it at least got his mind off of you.
You doubt he’d get you killed over that, it just isn’t worth it and you’re pretty valuable, but it would be much better if he didn’t think about it too much.
You’ve organized the searches, pretty sloppily in your own opinion. Of course, it’s possible that they could find him, but if Jungkoook does his part, everything should be okay.
You remove your shoes with a groan when you walk in. You usually never regret wearing heels, thankful for the centimeters they help you gain, but tonight you definitely do. Keeping them on for two days was not how they had been intended to be used.
Once they’re off your feet, you painfully walk to your kitchen. All you want to do is to make yourself a cup of tea before going to bed, but you stop yourself before grabbing your kettle.
Something feels— off. You’re probably the only person who could notice it, because you’re  so obsessive with everything that’s in your home, but you just can’t miss it. It’s not much, just some items that aren’t where they should be, or that were moved a little to the side.
Your breath catches in your throat, and you hesitantly grab a knife from your kitchen drawer. You don’t think that would do anything, if someone was in your apartment right now, because you can’t fight and, considering the people you work for, you’re pretty sure if someone wanted to kill you they would, but it makes you feel better.
You make your way through the living-room slowly, heart hammering in your chest. You check the bathroom, first. No one’s in there, but it’s clear that whoever was there used it as well. He didn’t put your toothpaste back where it belonged.
That only leaves your room. You walk in, carefully, to find it empty. Your bed’s done, though not exactly how you do it, and that confuses you. At least until your eyes find the necklace that’s on your bedside table.
It’s the identifying tag Jungkook wore around his neck for fights. You reach out for it, in disbelief, and that only confirms what you thought.
A laugh bubbles in your throat, and you just can’t hold it in. It escapes your lips, breaking the silence that always reigns in your apartment.
Here. He was here, in the eye of the storm, while everyone was looking for him. You have no idea where he is now, but this makes you feel like he’ll be fine. Clearly, he is a smart man and he has resources.
You fall to the ground, lean against your bed, holding the tag in your hand. You give yourself a second. That’s more than you usually get. It’s a second to close your eyes and feel grateful and happy about what happened, a second to think that perhaps not everything is dark and terrible in the world.
A second, because Jungkook made it out.
And then, you open your eyes, and you come back to your reality, which is that you’ll be working for the family tomorrow, and the day after that, and probably for the rest of your life. There’s no out for you. No hope.
But at least Jungkook should be fine. You’ll never know about it, because if he is, then you’ll never hear about him again.
If you ever do, it will only mean bad news.
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Thank you for reading! I hope you’ve enjoyed this first chapter and feel free to let me know if you would like to be tagged for future ones!
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specialagentsergio · 3 years
Text
wish i were
summary: Emily’s back where she belongs, but she’s learning that you can’t come back from the dead the same as you were before. Spencer’s reeling from betrayal and broken trust. Then there’s you—their safe port in the storm. But you’re not okay either, and you have a choice to make.
pairing: spencer reid x f!reader (unrequited), emily prentiss x f!reader
category: angst
content warnings: lots of swearing, mentions of/implied sex, mentions of vomiting (nothing descriptive), fighting, negative feelings towards other team members, bittersweet ending
a/n: it’s finally here. thank you all for your patience. i wasn’t planning on posting angst and unrequited love on valentine’s day, but i don’t want to wait another day to post this; i’m kinda sick of looking at it tbh. anyways, i hope you enjoy it and it lives up to your expectations. sorry it’s so long. apparently i have a lot to say.
word count: 8.7k
series masterlist || masterlist
Ten weeks ago.
“Absolutely not,” Emily croaks out. Her voice is rough and broken from the breathing tube, and it hurts her throat to speak, but she ignores it. “No. I won’t do it.”
She can hardly believe what she’s hearing. She’s only been awake for a few hours and she’s already fed up with the bullshit the world is throwing at her. Right now, it’s in the form of her boss asking her to fake her own death. “You can’t seriously think this is an acceptable solution.”
Hotch is unreadable, his unit chief face firmly in place. “It’s for your own safety.”
Emily scoffs, then immediately winces at the pain that shoots through her midsection. But she continues. “So put me in a safe house or something. I’m not making my friends bury me.”
“It’s for their safety as well,” he replies. “Doyle’s still out there. He’s targeted them before. You know he’ll do it again to get to you if he finds out you’re alive.”
“Then let them in on this,” she argues. “They can keep a secret.”
His expression slips—just a little bit, but she sees it. It’s hesitance.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” she asks, a feeling of dread settling over her. “I want to see her. I’m not making a decision like this without her.”
Hotch folds his arms over his chest. “It’s not your decision to make, Emily,” he says quietly. “It’s already done.”
Her breath catches in her throat. She looks him up and down, searching desperately for any sign that he’s lying, that this is all just some cruel joke, that any second now you’ll be walking through the door, a smile on your face—
There are none.
Her lungs burn and she’s forced to take in a breath. “You son of a bitch,” she whispers. “You... son of a bitch. How dare you? How dare you.”
He doesn’t so much as flinch as her voice increases in volume, which only serves to make her angrier.
“How fucking dare you! You let me see (Y/N) right now, you bastard!”
The door opens—her heart leaps—
It’s JJ, who, if Hotch is to be believed, is the only other one to know about this. JJ hurries to her side and reaches out, but Emily yanks her arm away.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she snarls. “You—” Her eyes land on the water pitcher on the table in front of her and she lunges forward, the searing pain it causes barely registering. She seizes it and throws it with all the force she can muster.
Hotch doesn’t move out of the way, letting it hit his chest and soak the front of his clothing. Its accompanying cup follows, then the TV remote. It’s not until she grabs the vase of flowers that he ducks out of the way. The glass shatters on the floor. All the while, she’s screaming obscenities at him.
JJ tries in vain to calm her down, holding up her hands placatingly. “Emily, please—”
“Don’t talk to me!” she yells. “You have the audacity to come in here and speak to me when you know I’m alive and my girlfriend doesn’t!”
“Emily!” Her voice is stern. “I understand you’re upset—”
“Don’t use your fucking mom voice on me, Jennifer, I’m not a fucking child—”
“What’s going on in here?” A pair of nurses enter the room, no doubt drawn by the commotion.
“She’s bleeding,” JJ answers immediately. “I think she might have aggravated something when she sat up.”
“She’s not supposed to be sitting up at all. What did you two do?” one of the nurses scolds.
“She just got some bad news—”
“Well, isn’t that a nice way to put it!” The nurses are trying to coax her into laying back down, but Emily resists it. “A really great way to describe the two of you trying to force me into letting my family and girlfriend think I’m dead!”
“I think some of the stitches tore,” the second nurse says.
“Go get the doctor,” the first one instructs an orderly standing in the doorway.
Movement catches Emily’s eye and she looks towards it to see Hotch taking a step backwards.
“Don’t you dare leave!” she screams. “I’m not done with you, you motherf—”
“Agent, please, you need to lie back.”
“And you two need to leave,” the older of the nurses says.
Then there’s a third person at her side. Judging by the white coat, it’s the doctor. “What’s the problem?” he asks them.
“She’s agitated and we think some stitches might have burst.”
“Damn right I’m agitated!” Emily cries. “They’re trying to—I—” She looks past the doctor to find that JJ and Hotch are gone.
“Emily, we’re going to give you something to help you relax,” he tells her.
Her vision goes blurry and she can’t figure out why until she feels the tears sliding down her cheeks. She lets the nurses push her back now and her head thumps against the pillow. “Please—” she chokes on a sob. “Please, I want to see my girlfriend.”
“What’s her name?” the doctor asks kindly.
“(Y/N). We’ve been together for almost a year. I need…” Her limbs are starting to feel heavy. “I need to call her, or—or something. She thinks… she thinks….”
“Shh, you’re okay,” one of the nurses soothes. “You’re going to be okay.”
Emily blinks slowly and shakes her head. “But she won’t be. She…”
The world fades to black.
---
There are tear stains on your pillowcase.
That’s the first thing Emily notices when she walks into your bedroom. She recognizes them so quickly because similar ones were on her pillows in Paris.
“Sorry, I’ve been meaning to run the sheets through the wash,” you say when you notice her looking.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” She sets her bag on the bedside table, careful to jostle Sergio as little as possible. He’s in her arms, pressed against her chest and purring loudly. He definitely remembers her—she’d been a little worried that he wouldn’t.
Emily is absolutely exhausted. It has been a very long day. Doyle is dead, Declan is safe, and now all she wants to do is take a nice, hot shower and curl up in bed with you. But you haven’t been able to keep eye contact with her for more than a few moments at a time.
She expected something like this to happen. She knew once the relief of seeing her alive wore off, there was going to be a heap of more, uglier emotions surfacing.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
You glance up at her just briefly, busying yourself with stripping off the pillowcases and replacing them with a clean set. “I don’t know what to say, Emily,” you sigh. “I just… I don’t.”
She strokes Sergio’s back a couple of times to calm herself before replying. “You can say anything. You’ve been through so much, and I… I’m not going to hold what you’re feeling against you.”
You shake your head. “I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.”
It confirms her suspicions. “(Y/N), you’re allowed to be mad at me,” she says. “Hell, you could even yell at me if you wanted to and I’d be okay with it.”
You snort. “I don’t want to yell at you. But, um, could I ask you a question?”
“Anything.”
“Okay. Well…” You shuffle from one foot to the other. “I’m… not really sure how to ask this, but, how… how did this happen?”
Your voice is hesitant. You’re holding back, but Emily can read between the lines. “You mean, how could I let you think I was dead?” she corrects softly.
You breathe in sharply and wrap your arms around yourself. Your eyes are wet when you look up at her and nod.
Emily tries not to let her next words come out too fast, lest it seem like she’s dismissing your feelings or making excuses. “I didn’t get a choice.” Her voice cracks and she clears her throat. “When I came to after surgery, the funeral had already been held.”
Your mouth drops open. You stare at her for a few seconds, then blink several times. Your eyes move around, focused on nothing in particular as you try to process what she’s just told you. Eventually, they settle on the bedroom door behind her. “I’m gonna punch his face,” you whisper.
Emily can’t stop the genuine laugh that bubbles out of her. “Yeah, Hotch heard similar things from me.”
“Oh my god, Em,” you breathe out, and her heart skips a beat at the nickname. “That must have been awful.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t fun,” she admits. “But at least I knew you were alive and that I’d see you again someday. It can’t come close to what you went through.”
You shake your head. “This isn’t the suffering Olympics. It was harder for you in some ways than it was for me, I’m sure. Like, if I was waking up after being stabbed, I’d want my girlfriend there holding my hand.”
Emily’s eyes prick with tears as she listens to you, remembering how it felt to be at the hospital without you there to hold her hand through all the scary bits. But you? You had buried her, and now you’re here considering how Emily had felt throughout all this. She’s not sure if you’re actively trying to make her fall even more in love with you, but if you are, you’re succeeding.
“I can’t promise to never be mad at you about this,” you continue, “but I’ll take being mad at you for actually being alive rather than being mad at you for dying.”
“That’s… really mature of you,” she observes.
“I started seeing a therapist a few days after the funeral,” you say with a shrug. “Can you put Sergio down and help me change the bed sheets?”
She nods and places him gently on the floor. She’s about to ask why you’re wanting to change them right now, when you’re clearly just as exhausted as she is, when she finds a tie wedged between the top and fitted sheets at the foot of the bed. She frowns as she lifts it up—it’s not one she recognizes as yours or hers, but she does think she’s seen it before.
“Oh, so that’s where that went,” you say.
“I don’t remember you having a tie like this. Is it new?”
“It’s Spencer’s,” you clarify.
“Oh. What… what’s it doing in your bed?” she asks hesitantly.
“He would stay over sometimes when I couldn’t sleep and he’s too long—“ you spread your hands apart “—for either of the couches.”
“I see.” Emily smooths out the wrinkles in the fabric and crosses the room to put it on top of the dresser, trying to tamp down the sting of jealousy. The other side of your bed is supposed to be hers.
“Nothing happened,” you say and she realizes she’s frowning.
“I know,” she replies, and she does—she just wishes it had been her in the bed with you. But you’ve at least given her a good lead-in for her surprise. “Anyways, you wouldn’t have even had the time with the amount of online Scrabble you were playing.”
Now it’s your turn to frown. “How do you know about that?”
The corner of her mouth turns up. “I was there for every game, sergio2010.”
It takes you a moment to put it together. “You’re cheetobreath?” you ask. “I thought that was JJ.”
“It was her idea,” Emily says. “And that’s what you were supposed to think.”
Your reaction delights her—you start laughing. “That’s ridiculous!”
“I had to stick it to Hotch somehow,” she defends, barely holding back her own laughter.
You shake your head fondly as you finish tucking in the fresh sheets. Emily helps you spread the comforter back over the bed and return the pillows to their spots. She isn’t sure what to do after that, though, and nervously clasps her hands in front of her. You’re silent for a few seconds, watching her from across the bed.
“I’m going to go take a shower,” you say eventually.
“Um, okay,” she replies. “But you know, I could go stay at a hotel instead if you’d prefer.”
You shake your head. “You’re gonna join me.”
“Ah.” Emily swallows, part nervous, part thrilled. “That’s… I mean, yeah. Okay.”
You hold out your hand in invitation; she circles the bed and takes it.
After, when you’re both clean and settled into bed, she pulls you as close to her as she can. “This is so nice,” you sigh into her skin. “You’re so soft, Em.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “Um, thank you?”
“Spencer’s bony,” you explain.
Emily snorts. “Yeah, I know. I fell asleep on his shoulder on the jet a few years ago and it was painful.”
You giggle. “Did you know he talks in his sleep?”
“Morgan’s mentioned it. You learn anything else when you were snuggled up with him?” she teases, running her fingers through your damp hair.
“It wasn’t like that,” you protest. “We didn’t snuggle. I’d just kind of… press my forehead on his arm and one leg against his.” Your voice lowers as you continue, “I just really missed being close to someone.”
“I did, too,” she whispers back. “I wish it had been me, but I’m glad you had him.”
You nod against her in agreement. “I love you, Emily,” you say, briefly tightening your grip on her.
“I love you, too,” she replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “So much.”
You drift off to sleep quickly, and she’s not far behind.
It’s the best sleep she’s had in months.
---
Spencer’s barely heard from you since the hearing last week.
He’d gotten plenty of texts from Jennifer (all of which he ignored), but only a few from you. That’s probably normal for most adult friends, but not for you two, especially so when the fact that you were the only two people not to apply for reinstatement to the BAU is taken into consideration. He thought that he’d be able to seriously talk about it with you, to share his feelings and maybe work it out together. But all he had gotten was a brief message:
Emily was reinstated, so I’m going back, too.
It left him frustrated, but when it came down to it, he understood—he was the same. Since you were going back, so was he.
On Monday morning, everyone’s first day back together, he gets off the elevator and is immediately confronted with the last person he wants to see.
“Hey, where have you been? I wanted to do brunch this weekend,” Jennifer says.
Spencer barely resists rolling his eyes, instead keeping them fixed on the file he’s holding. “I had to deal with some stuff with my mom.” It’s not a lie—he did have to check in with his mom. It just didn’t take as long as he’s implying. “Have you seen Garcia?”
“Uh, she’s with Rossi,” Jennifer answers, and she sounds startled by his behavior, but he doesn’t care. You’re at your desk, and as he passes by, he takes your arm.
“Wha—Spencer?” You’re taken aback, but you let him pull you along and into a file room.
“What?” you repeat when he turns to you after closing the door.
He tucks the file into his bag, the folds his arms over his chest. “I barely heard from you last week.”
Your eyebrows scrunch together. “Well, yeah, I’ve been busy,” you say. “Emily’s moving in with me so we’ve been taking her things out of storage and to my apartment to unpack.”
Spencer glances away, trying to ignore the stab of jealousy in his chest. Just two weeks ago, he was in your bed and he’s quickly been replaced. And sure, he knows you don’t feel that way about him, but it was easy to pretend you did when you were asleep right next to him. “Not busy enough to make a decision about work,” he points out.
“So?”
“You’re the only other one who didn’t apply for reinstatement to the unit,” he replies. “You’d think that would be something for us to talk about.”
“You never said you wanted to,” you say, giving him a little shrug.
He doesn’t resist the eye roll this time. Does Spencer know he’s being a bit unfair? Yes. Does he care? Not particularly. No one bothered to seriously check in with him last week. He wasn’t expecting everyone to, but he was expecting it from you. He’s only been at work for five minutes, but his emotions are already running high, and he doesn’t care to reign them in. “I didn’t think I’d have to.”
“You should’ve. I can’t read your mind.” Now you’re getting defensive. “And what does it matter, anyways? You’re not my boyfriend; I don’t have to run my decisions past you.”
“I know that,” he snaps. He really could have done without hearing you say that. “I’m just there to warm up your bed when you’re lonely is all, huh?”
You’re shocked for only a moment before pivoting to anger. “I didn’t make you do anything. You could’ve said no. And I certainly don’t owe you anything from it.”
“Clearly,” he mutters.
You heave an angry sigh. “Look, I know you’re mad about the whole thing, but don’t take it out on me. I don’t know why you’re so surprised that I wanted to spend the past week catching up with my girlfriend after thinking she was dead for ten weeks. If you wanted to talk, you should’ve said so. Stop being such an ass.”
Spencer doesn’t answer. You’re right, and he knows it, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to admit it. He just looks down at the floor, avoiding your glare.
When it becomes clear to you that he has no intention of responding, you mutter, “whatever” under your breath and duck behind him, walking out of the door and leaving him alone again.
---
The case has been miserable.
In rural Oklahoma, their unsub is burning his victims with acid. Not the worst they’ve seen, but not pleasant, either—this job never is.
You’re still mad at him, which is bad enough, but he’s also had to watch you be far more… touchy with Emily than you ever were before. It’s not super apparent—you still keep it professional at the local P.D. and when you’re out on work assignments, but you’re going out of your way to find any excuse to touch her that you can outside of that.
Then there’s the motel they’re staying at and its thin walls. He heard a few things last night from your room next door. It was quickly followed by shushes, but he heard enough to infer what was going on. So he’d dug his noise-canceling headphones out of his bag. It had been a good solution at the time, but then he’d fallen asleep with them on. As a result, he’d slept with his neck at an odd angle. It’s midday now and it’s still aching.
To top it all off, there’s Jennifer. He’s been trying to keep his distance from her, and had thought the snide remarks he hadn’t been able to hold back might encourage her to stay away. But she keeps pressing the issue, and when she tells him she thinks he’s mad about micro-expressions, he can’t hold it back anymore.
“You think it’s about my profiling skills? Jennifer, listen, the only reason you were able to manage my perceptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”
She protests, so he brings up Dilaudid. He knows it’s a low blow, and that she still feels guilty about them splitting up all those years ago, leading to his abduction and subsequent problem, but he doesn’t care. He just wants her to hurt like he is.
The team is staring and Emily says his name, but he just tells Jennifer that it’s too late to be sorry and leaves without another word.
Outside, he sits on the curb in front of one of the SUVs and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to calm himself down. He’s not alone for long, though. Just a few minutes later, he hears footsteps coming from behind him. The sound that involuntarily comes out of his throat can only be described as a growl.
“God, Jennifer, what do I have to do to get you to understand that I want you to leave me the fuck alone!” he nearly yells.
But it’s not Jennifer that answers. “It’s me,” you say softly.
Spencer sighs. He drops his hands from his face but doesn’t open his eyes. “What?”
“Can I sit?”
He’s not sure he wants to be around anyone, but it’s hard for him to say no to you. “Sure,” he says dully.
You join him on the curb, but keep a few feet of space between you. You don’t say anything, though, just sit quietly, letting him make the first move.
“How are you okay?” he asks eventually.
“What?” You sound incredulous. “I’m not sure where you got that idea. I’m so mad at Hotch that I can barely breathe when I’m in the same room as him.”
Spencer considers this for a moment, recalling when everyone’s been in the same room during this case. He realizes that since he’s been preoccupied with you touching Emily and trying to avoid Jennifer, he’s missed how you tense up whenever you see Hotch, and that you keep him out of your eyesight whenever possible.
“But you’re fine with Emily,” he observes. That does honestly confuse him, because he’s mad at Emily as well. And if it had been you in her place? He’s not sure he’d ever be able to forgive you, even without you knowing the way he feels about you.
“For the most part,” you say. “I still feel a little mad at her sometimes, but it helps me to remember that it wasn’t her fault.”
He finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow. “Being alive in Paris and not telling you isn’t her fault?”
“She didn’t really get a choice. When she woke up after surgery, the funeral had already happened,” you explain. “Hotch made the decision without her.”
“Hmm.” He files that information away to think over later. “And Jennifer?”
You shrug. “I can’t be too mad at her, since she did so much for me during those weeks.”
He snorts. “Yeah, out of guilt.”
“Probably, yes,” you concede. “But not having to pack up Emily’s things and take them to storage myself, feeding Sergio and bringing him to stay with me, bringing me hot meals when I was surviving off of cereal alone because I could barely get out of bed, let alone cook for myself… it went a long way.”
On the one hand, it’s a bit comforting for him to hear how Jennifer helped the woman he loves. On the other, she could have ended your pain with three words—Emily is alive—but she didn’t. She let the woman he loves suffer the pain of the loss of a partner.
And she sure didn’t bring him hot meals.
This shouldn’t surprise you, Spencer. You’ve always been the afterthought. The burden. You should be used to this by now.
He clenches the fabric of his pants in his hands. “That doesn’t make me any less angry,” he mutters.
“That’s fine.”
“You can’t expect me to just—wait, what?”
“That’s fine,” you repeat. “I’m not trying to tell you to just get over it or whatever because she was nice to me. Like Em told me, you’re allowed to be mad.”
Spencer bites his lip, resisting the urge to ask you to stop calling her Em. You’re the only one that calls her that—or rather, is allowed to call her that, and it’s obvious why. It’s also similar enough to you calling him Spence that he’ll always start comparing himself to Emily when he hears it, and he’s been trying to stop doing that for months.
“Maybe you just, I don’t know,” you continue, drawing him out of his thoughts. “You could just try to be a little less passive aggressive with JJ?”
He opens his mouth, about to flat-out refuse, but before he can, you tack on, “For me? Just a little bit?”
God damn it.
“Only if she stops bothering me,” he says bluntly.
“Yeah, she, um… she was crying when I left, so I think she’s got the message now,” you say quietly.
He feels a bit guilty upon hearing that, but not enough to apologize, or even really regret it. I told her I didn’t want to talk about it, he rationalizes to himself. She’s the one who decided to push it anyways.
After a few moments of silence, you reach out and pat his knee. “I love you, you know.”
He knows what you mean, knows that you don’t mean it like that, but his heart still skips a beat. He responds to you with a nod.
You push yourself to your feet, tell him to take all the time he needs, and you’ll see him when he’s ready to come back in, then walk away.
When he’s certain you’re out of earshot, he whispers back, “I love you, too.”
---
Emily sits down across from him on the plane, and Spencer is immediately reminded of the morning after he caught you and her together. That time, Emily had folded her hands in front of her on the table. This time, she slides something across it to him. He looks up from his book and sees his missing tie, wrinkles ironed out and folded neatly.
“It was in her bed,” she explains when his brow furrows.
Spencer wonders if that made Emily jealous.
He’s not a good enough person to not hope it did.
“Thanks,” he mutters, putting it away in his bag.
Emily’s quiet, but she doesn’t leave. She must have something else to say. He sighs. “What is it?”  
“Are you going to Rossi’s house tomorrow night?” she asks.
He looks back down to his book. “I don’t know. I’m not so sure I can make it.”
“Okay. Well, Reid, you can be mad at me for as long as you need to. I’m okay with that.”
Spencer frowns. He kind of wishes she wasn’t being so nice and understanding. It makes it harder to be upset with her, and he wants to be upset with her.
“I’d like to say something to you, though, if that’s okay,” she says.
He reluctantly looks back up. “What?”
Emily holds his gaze. “Thank you,” she says earnestly.
He blinks. “Uh, for what?”
Her voice wavers slightly with emotion as she speaks. “For looking out for her when I couldn’t.”
His eyes drift away from Emily and to the couch where you’re sleeping. “My pleasure,” he replies quietly. When he looks back at Emily, she has a curious look on her face.
For the first time, instead of panicking over keeping his secret, instead of shying away, Spencer looks right back at her. A few seconds later, he thinks he sees a flash of realization in her eyes, but it’s so quick he can’t be sure.
“Well, thank you,” she repeats, and takes her leave. He watches as she leans down and tucks the blanket closer around you. He closes his eyes, leans back in his seat, and imagines a world where he was the one adjusting it instead.
---
“You’re gonna go weeks, months even, feeling fine. And then you’re gonna have a bad day.”
Emily can barely get the hotel room door open, her hands are shaking so much. A bad day. What Hotch called it, she thinks, was a bit of an understatement.
She’s just come back from taking a witness statement to help wrap up the piano man case—or rather, she was trying to take one.
“I was told that you would only give your statement to me.”
“Why didn’t you let me pull the trigger?” Regina asks.
“Because you would be in prison.” Emily understands why Regina is mad at her, and she’s fine with taking the brunt of it. Lying to her to stop her from shooting the unsub was the right thing to do. “I know it’s hard--”
“No, you don’t. You have no idea what it’s like…” Regina pauses briefly, anger radiating off of her. “When the monster from your nightmares comes back for you.”
Emily breaks eye contact and looks down. She knows exactly what that’s like.
Regina recognizes it. “Wait--”
Redirect, redirect, redirect. “Look, I’m here as a courtesy--”
“Something happened to you.”
“So do you want to give me your statement or not?”
But Regina is relentless. “What did you do to him, huh? Did you arrest him like a good FBI agent? Or did you kill him?”
Emily sits down heavily on the spare bed, drawing your attention away from packing up your things for the flight home. “Em?”
She just shakes her head, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and closing her eyes. “It was the right thing,” she whispers to herself. “It was the right thing. I did the right thing.”
You sit down next to her and place your hand on her back. “What happened?”
Emily swallows hard, feeling sick to her stomach. Her hair is sticking to the back of her neck; she tilts her head to try and dislodge it. You catch on and pull it to the side for her.
“Talk to me, baby,” you urge gently. “Just something, anything I can do to help.”
She takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down enough to speak. “I—I think,” she stutters. “I th—think I just ruined a woman’s pe—peace of m—mind for good.”
You start rubbing circles on her back and ask, “How?”
“You know, when they talk about victims getting revictimized by the system, they mean you.”
Emily shudders involuntarily. “I… you know how we found the unsub with a—a victim?”
Slowly, in sentences fractured by gasping breaths, swallows to hold back the nausea, and even a few sobs, she recounts what Regina said to her.
You murmur something under your breath that she doesn’t catch, then, ever so gently, you pull her into your arms.
Emily Prentiss isn’t one to break down, not in her own home and especially not in front of others. She controls any “negative” emotions as best as she can, her feelings only displayed through a trembling voice, misty eyes, or run-down nails. Screaming, tears, and nervous gestures were not befitting of an ambassador’s daughter, after all, and those habits formed in childhood have stayed with her until this day.
But there’s one person who’s the exception. There’s one person with whom those walls just don’t seem to exist. That person, of course, is you.
You pull her into your arms, and Emily Prentiss breaks down, because she can. She can because she knows you’ll be there to help put her back together again.
“You never had a chance to mourn your own death, did you?”
She hadn’t understood what her therapist meant when she said it yesterday morning, but Emily thinks she does now. This time last year, what Regina said would have unsettled her, and she would have felt sorry for her, but she probably wouldn’t have dwelt on it much. It’s not last year, though. It’s this year, and she’s coming undone in your embrace over Regina’s words, words she knows will never leave her.
“I didn’t pull the trigger.”
“Still… your monster’s dead. I have to live with mine. That’s my statement.”
Emily has a promise to keep, so she boards the jet early. A few minutes later, Hotch slides into the seat across from her and waits. It still takes her a few moments to collect herself enough to say the words.
“I’m having a bad day.”
---
Spencer’s not sure if you’re going to be able to keep doing this job. He became very familiar with your nervous tics and outward signs of stress during those weeks, and now he can notice them almost immediately.
You seemed okay for the first few months. A few habits cropped up now and then—biting your lip, tapping each fingertip to your thumb in turn—but that was fairly normal. It’s a stressful job.
But then your bottom lip starts getting chapped again, and during conversions with anyone other than Emily, you’re quiet; you often have to be prompted to share your thoughts.
He tries to find out what’s wrong, but when he asks, you shut it down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay,” he says quietly. “But, um, you probably should talk to… somebody, you know?”
You barely look up from your paperwork as you respond. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ve been seeing a therapist since this whole shitshow started. I’ve got Emily, too. If anything, I should be telling you to go talk to a professional.”
Spencer just says “okay” again, then a few minutes later he excuses himself to go hide in the bathroom and nurse his hurt feelings. He knows you weren’t trying to be mean. Flipping around the suggestion to him most certainly came from a place of love. But he’s not interested in receiving any kind of psychiatric care—he’s actively opposed to it. So being told anything of that sort upsets him and often makes him angry.
Today it’s just salt in the wound, though. The wound itself is Emily. And god, does he ever feel guilty about the resentment that crops up every time her name is in your mouth. She was dead, and every day she was gone, he wished she weren’t. He cried countless tears over her and would’ve given anything to at least be able to say goodbye.
Then the impossible happened—she came back. He didn’t have to say goodbye at all. And sure, there was the initial relief and happiness, and the warmest hug ever, but now he finds himself resenting her. He’d never wish for her to be gone again, but he can’t stop the jealousy, no matter how hard he tries.
Recently, when Emily was shot during a case in California, he held back your hair as you leaned out of the door of the SUV and threw up upon receiving the news. Spencer Reid would never deny that he’s a germaphobe, but he wants that. He wants to be the one taking care of you, the one whose shoulder you fall asleep on, the one going home with you at the end of the day.
He doesn’t want Emily gone, never, ever again, but he wants you back. Those ten weeks, as awful as they were, weren’t the worst he’s had, because during that time, you were always seeking him out. He knows you didn’t want him that way, but if Emily had really been gone, he thinks one day, that might have changed. The thought always brings tears to his eyes.
Still, he would settle for having you the way he did during the years before he fell for you. Things just haven’t been the same since Emily came back. You don’t stay up late talking anymore. You haven’t a movie night in months. You don’t ask about the books he’s reading or what he did over the weekend. This is it: this is exactly what he was afraid of happening when he found you with Emily.
Spencer doesn’t think it’s personal. He thinks it’s because you’re barely hanging on these days, and just don’t have the energy anymore to do things like you used to.
It still hurts, though. He wonders if it’ll ever stop hurting.
---
Respite can come at the strangest of times and in the oddest of ways. Today, it comes to Emily in the middle of a hostage situation at a bank, in the form of a job offer.
The team is trying to find the I.D. of the Queen of Hearts, one of the robbers, when she gets a surprise call from Clyde Easter, her old Interpol Unit Chief, who gives her the information he knows about the unsub. He doesn’t know her name, but he reminds her that she’s seen the unsub before, at a robbery in Paris while she was living there. Then when the team learns that their unsubs want to fly out to Chad, she calls him back.
“Well, unfortunately Interpol doesn’t have many assets in that particular region in Africa. Maybe that’s something you could help me with when this is over.”
Emily scoffs. “Work for Interpol again? That’ll be the day.”
“Not work, darling. Run,” he corrects. “You see, I’ve been promoted. So, the team’s yours whenever you want it.”
“It’s a hell of a time to bring that up,” she says, ignoring the questioning glances she’s getting from you, Reid, and JJ.
Clyde asks her to think about it, but there’s no time to do that now. She pushes it to the back of her mind and goes back to work.
By the time the day is over, she’s tired. Just tired. You both narrowly survive the explosion in the bank thanks to the alcove you were in, trying to help two elderly patrons. Then a mere hour later, you scare the shit out of her by finding Will strapped to an active bomb and deactivating it yourself. So Clyde’s offer doesn’t come up again until the next morning, when light is spilling through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom with a soft, warm glow.
You face each other in bed, legs twined together under the covers. “What was that about working for Interpol again?” you ask softly, tucking your arm under your head.
“Clyde was promoted,” she replies just as quietly, as to not disturb the peaceful morning feeling. “He offered me his old job. He wants me to run the London office.”
Your eyes widen. “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“How are you feeling about that?”
Emily blows out a breath. “I’d like to at least… consider it.”
You reach out, finding her hand in the sheets and lacing your fingers between hers. “What’s stopping you?”
“I’m sure you can guess,” she replies, squeezing your hand back.
“Well, then I think you’re more than just considering it,” you say. “You wouldn’t bring it to me if you didn’t want to take the job.”
Emily thinks for a moment, then admits, “I… I do want to take it. But I have to know what you think, honestly.” She was already robbed out of making one life-changing decision without you in this past year. She has no interest in that happening again.
“Honestly?” you repeat, shifting a little. At her nod, you continue, “I think it’s a good option for us.”
“Us?” she asks, eyebrows raising.
“Yeah, us,” you affirm. “What, you think I’m just going to stay here if you move away?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. This is the first time we’ve talked about something like this.”
“Fair point,” you say, then sigh. “We’re… both struggling here in D.C., Em. I know it and you know it. This place, this team. It used to be my home, but now, I just… it’s not like it was before.”
“You don’t trust Hotch anymore,” Emily says quietly.
You let out a small, broken chuckle. “I’ve tried. I’ve been trying so hard. I know he did what he thought he had to, but I just… I can’t.”
“It’s okay to feel that way,” she points out. She lets go of your hand to reach up and wipe away a tear that breaks your lash line. “In fact, I’d say it’s reasonable, with what you went through.”
You close your eyes and nod, putting your hand on top of hers to keep it on your cheek. “I know it’s been hard for you, too.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I wanted to come back, and at first, I felt like I was home. But I just can’t go back to my old life and pretend that nothing happened. The only time I feel at home now is… well, it’s when I’m alone with you, just like this.”
“Emily Prentiss, I had no idea you were such a romantic,” you say, cracking a smile.
“Oh, stop,” she says, but she’s blushing. When your giggles subside, she speaks again. “I would love for you to come to London with me. But I don’t want you to forget what you’d be leaving. There’s still a lot of good here.”
You nod. “There is. I’m just not sure it’s enough anymore,” you say softly.
“I understand. You can think about it. I don’t need an answer now.”
So you don’t give her one, not right away. But you do a few hours later. So Emily picks up her phone and dials Clyde’s number.
---
JJ’s a beautiful bride, but Spencer’s eyes keep drifting over to you. The dress you’re wearing tonight is wonderful; from the cut to the color, it suits you perfectly. But that’s not what’s really got his attention. It’s the way you’re carrying yourself. You’re smiling, and you seem truly happy, without any reservations. But there’s also a bit of sadness clinging to you, and he can’t tell what’s causing it.
The party has been going on for a while by the time he finds himself dancing with you. You’d asked him, and now you’ve steered him a little ways away from everyone else. “There’s something I have to tell you,” you say just as he’s about to ask what’s going on.
To his dismay, he doesn’t have a clue what it’s going to be. He doesn’t like not having at least an idea. He swallows, then says, “Okay.”
You can’t meet his eyes; you look down to the floor instead and watch your feet move in time together. So whatever it is, I’m not going to like it, he thinks, and his anxiety spikes. “What is it?” he asks, tightening his grip on you without really meaning to.
You take a deep breath, then look up. “Emily and I are leaving.”
His heart drops and he stops in his tracks, causing you to stumble a little over his feet. “Oh, shi—sorry,” he says. “I just—you’re leaving the BAU? But you’re still going to be in D.C., right?”
You sigh, then guide him off the dance floor and to a quiet spot not too far away. “You remember what Emily said about working for Interpol again yesterday?”
“Interpol?” he repeats, his voice pitching upwards. “You mean, like, overseas?”
“London, to be specific.”
He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know what to say. Things were a little rocky between you and him when Emily came back, and for a little while afterwards, sure, but recently he’d started to feel like he had his best friend back.
Apparently he couldn’t be more wrong.
Spencer’s used to people leaving. First it was his dad, then Ethan. Elle was next, quickly followed by Gideon. JJ was forced out, and although she ended up coming back, it didn’t erase the pain he felt in her absence. And then there was everything that happened with Emily.
So, Spencer’s used to people leaving. In a way, he almost expects it.
He just wishes it would stop hurting so damn much.
What is it about me? he wonders. What is it that makes people run away? There’s clearly something wrong with--
“Hey!”
He jumps, startled out of his introspection. When his eyes refocus on you, you put your hands on your hips.
“I don’t appreciate people being mean to my best friend, you know,” you tell him seriously.
“Uh…” He blinks a few times. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”
“That includes him being mean to himself,” you continue. “I know what you were thinking.”
“What? No, you don’t,” he protests.
“Don’t I?” You put the tip of your finger on your chin. “Was it or was it not something along the lines of, people always leave me, why do they do that, there must be something wrong with me?”
He hates that you’re right, so he doesn’t answer, just scowls and looks away.
“It’s not true, you know.”
“Sure,” he mutters. Sure it isn’t. You’ve only just added your name to the list.
“I mean it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look at me.”
Spencer doesn’t, and your resulting sigh sounds so frustrated, and then he thinks, Oh, great work, Reid. (Y/N) tells you she’s leaving and what do you do? You piss her off. Honestly, it’s no wonder--
And then your hands are on his face, cradling his cheeks, and he’s too surprised to resist your gaze anymore.
“It’s not your fault, Spencer,” you say, your voice equal parts firm and gentle. “You didn’t drive me away. Not even close. There’s nothing inherently wrong with you, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He sniffs, trying to hold back the sudden onslaught of emotions you’ve just caused. “Well, I could have gone without picking a fight with you on our first day back at work,” he says, sniffling again.
“What’re you tal—Spencer, that was almost a year ago.”
“Nine months.”
“Whatever. The point still stands. You’re not why I’m leaving, okay? You’re…” you trail off and he’s alarmed to see your eyes grow wet. “You’re the opposite, actually. You were the only thing keeping me here when Emily was gone. And now, you’re why it’s so hard to leave.”
“I am?” he whispers before he can think better of it.
“You are,” you affirm. “I think Emily’s actually a little worried you’re gonna talk me out of it.”
It gets a laugh out of him, but right after a little sob escapes him and he squeezes his eyes shut. When you hug him, he immediately reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your middle tightly.
“Hey, this isn’t the end, okay?” you say, and he can tell from the way your voice is trembling that you’re crying, too. “I know you like to ignore it, but we do live in the digital age, and I’ll be hounding you to talk to me at least once a week. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“I’d certainly hope not,” he murmurs, resting his head on your shoulder.
The two of you stay like that for a while, just holding each other, trying not to cry too much. Eventually, you pull away. “Besides, it’s not like I’m leaving first thing in the morning. Our flight isn’t for another ten days. I’m gonna be around.”
Spencer nods. “Okay.”
“Okay,” you repeat, then swipe at your face, clearing away the tears. “Um, we should head back. You still owe me a dance.”
And dance with you he does, swaying gently from side to side with his hand resting on your waist. A look over your shoulder shows Emily and Derek dancing in a similar manner; judging by the way he’s holding her, she told him the news as well.
He has an eidetic memory, but Spencer makes the effort to commit this moment to his brain all the same. He wants to remember the way you’re holding him, resting your head on his chest and running your thumb over the back of his hand every so often. He wants to remember how your skin feels against his, the texture of your hair. The lighting in the backyard and the way it makes you glow. The words that you said, telling him that it’s not his fault, that nothing’s wrong with him. He’s not quite sure he believes it, but you’ve never lied to him before, so he’ll try to accept it.
The song ends, and tears threaten to fall again when you pick up your head and take a step back.
“Hey, no more crying tonight,” you say. “Because if you start crying, I’ll start crying, and I don’t want to cry any more tonight. Save it for my grand exit at the airport terminal.”
That makes him break into a smile and he’s able to blink back the tears. “Okay.”
“Do you mind if I take this dance?” It’s Emily, and she’s looking at him, head tilted in your direction.
“Oh, um.” He clears his throat. “No, um, go—go ahead.”
He passes your hand to her, and what he feels is silly. You’re not some prize to be won; you don’t belong to anyone other than yourself. But he feels like he’s passing you off to Emily, almost… entrusting you to her. The look Emily gives him makes him think she understands this.
“Wait,” you say before she can properly take you into her arms. You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek.
Spencer doesn’t stay around to watch you two dance. He retreats back into the house, fingertips on the spot you kissed. He lets them sit there for a moment, then forces himself to drop his hand. It’s far past time for him to try and move on. He doesn’t want you to leave, but it might be what he needs.
Maybe, just maybe, with some distance, he can begin to heal.
---
On the first day at work without you, Spencer finds a small frame on his desk. He immediately recognizes the picture inside of it—it’s the one you’d kept as your lockscreen for months, much to his dismay.
It’s a picture from the relatively early days of your friendship, well before he felt anything that wasn’t platonic towards you. You’d dragged him out on a weekend off to a nearby amusement park, because, “you can’t die without having ridden a roller coaster at least once, Spence.” He had no desire to do so, but he didn’t have any other plans, so he went along with it.
The roller coaster ended up making him vomit, and the picture is from shortly after that. You’re holding up the camera with one hand and making a peace sign with the other, smiling from ear to ear. He still looks a little queasy, only managing a small smile, but he still looks somewhat happy. And he was, that day. Other than the nausea, he’d had a lot of fun with you.
He picks up the frame and feels something on the back of it. He flips it over and finds one of his lilac colored post-it notes, displaying your handwriting.
“When it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.”
Tears blur his vision. Doctor Who. Of course you picked Doctor Who. And you’ve written something else, too, in smaller letters:
If you don’t answer my calls at least twice a month, I’ll tell JJ you’ve been stealing from her Cheetos stash for eight years. Love ya.
He laughs out loud, a little wet giggle that he has to follow up with a sniffle. He slips the note under the frame’s felt backing to keep it safe, then rearranges his things until he settles on the perfect spot for it to sit on his desk. He retrieves a fresh sticky note and scribbles down a reminder to himself to call you when he gets home, sticking it the cover of one of his books. After all, he can’t have JJ knowing about his thievery. The team’s good at what they do, but he doesn’t think anyone would be able to find his body once JJ’s done with him.
His eyes drift back to the photograph, coming to a stop on your face. He misses you already. He even misses the ugly bits, when you’d snapped at each other, when you were crying on his shoulder. When he saw you with Emily that first time. It’s an odd mix of emotions. Longing, nostalgia, grief, happiness, safety. Belonging.
Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.
Spencer couldn’t agree more.
---------------
tell me what you thought here!
oh my god, i can hardly believe it’s over. there’s still going to be a small epilogue, but it’s optional. thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who read and supported this series and your enthusiasm for it. you’ve made me so very happy. and if you relate to spencer in this, i want you to know you’re gonna find your someone someday. if that’s what you want, i believe you’ll find it eventually. much love to all of you. 💖
series taglist: @sobereinstein , @zizzlekwum , @goldensatine , @closetedreidstan , @afuckingshituniverse , @uswntxx , @johnmulaneyslut , @90spumkin , @mcntsee , @zhuzhubii , @shadyladyperfection , @mggbler , @eva-cadeau , @esmesisle , @anothergayinthelife , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @zozoleesi , @calm-and-doctor , i think that’s everyone?? so sorry if i missed you.
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pyreo · 3 years
Text
deltarune megapost
I wanted to make a Deltarune post about the lore and the things that aren’t  obvious. And once I do that I wanna focus on why Mettaton is incredibly important to this setting
And also why he poses a problem
Why did Toriel and Asgore get divorced?
Without the setting of Undertale, Asgore and Toriel’s marriage still broke up after they had Asriel. There needs to be a reason though. In UT it was Asgore’s ‘worst of both worlds’ decision regarding killing anybody that fell from the human world, including children. We saw how close they were before this happened. Only something deep and serious caused that rift. In Deltarune, what on earth did Asgore do?
What happened to Dess?
Mentioned a handful of times by Noelle, Dess was her older sister and is mentioned In Undertale.... in that Xbox exclusing casino thing. The way Noelle talks about her, the conspicuous way Noelle gets locked out of her big house - it implies Dess is gone or deceased. Berdly recalls a spelling bee when he and Noelle were younger where she, despite being smarter than him, misspelled ‘December’, allowing him to win.
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In the two-player spelling puzzle, it also spells out ‘December’ as Noelle recalls the past and her silhouette regresses to a child while she does so. Being distracted by her sister’s disappearance, rather than pure shyness, could account for her misspelling her name on stage, and it clearly left a big psychological mark for her to have this visual regression in the Dark World.
However, there’s a graveyard in Hometown with no Dess. I heard another theory that she has been missing for years, because where each character’s personal room is made by Queen to reflect their tastes via their search results, Noelle has a calendar where every day is December 25th. This could imply that Noelle continually searches the internet for ‘December Holiday’, her sister’s name, to see if there are clues to her disappearance, but of course the only result you would get is the date of Christmas.
Who is the Knight?
It’s now implied to be Kris, who has been forcibly removing the player’s influence to act on their own. By all accounts the Knight is the game’s main antagonist. Spade King and Queen both mention the Knight as someone who influenced their position - they brought Spade King to absolute power, and showed Queen that creation of new worlds was possible.
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We’re led to believe that Kris was doing this, because they’ve been acting outside of the player’s control. Eating the entire pie between chapter 1 and 2 might have been a red herring to cover that they also went to the library and used that knife to slash open a dark fountain there.
However. This has issues. How would they even manage to shuffle slowly all the way to the library and get in the computer lab? The Knight is also the one creating the hidden bosses. They talked to Jevil until he realised he was in a game and he lost his mind; they ruined Spamton’s life by elevating him to success and then crushing him. Whatever the Knight is doing seems to be deliberately planned with key players in mind.
Kris opening the fountain at home at the end of ch.2 can be explained in that you just figured out in Cyber World that anyone determined enough can do this, and so, Kris decided to. So a better question might even be...
What does Kris want?
We have no idea. They are capable of removing the SOUL, ‘us’, temporarily, and putting things in motion we cannot influence. But they also keep putting us back in control afterward. This is hinted at right when ch.2 starts, where if you inspect the cage in Kris’s bedroom they threw us into, the description says it’s inescapable. Meaning Kris came back and took us out, willingly.
They allow us to pilot them through the game. Why? Because they cannot live without the SOUL for long for some reason? Because they’re bad at bullet hell? Why did they slash Toriel’s tyres before opening the fountain, making sure nobody could drive away?? Why did they specifically open the door?
You can find out details about Kris through the creepy way you interact with the townsfolk, who think you are Kris. They play the piano at the hospital waiting room - better than you. They used to go to church just to get the special church juice. It’s all normal, relatable things, not like someone who’s trying to plunge the world into darkness. Judging by their search history portrayed in their Queen’s castle room, they really want to see their brother again. However the castle has a room based on Asriel’s search history too, and Kris (not you) closes their eyes and won’t look at it.
What is Ralsei?
His name is an anagram of Asriel. Is he an extension of Asriel? The slightly flirtier dialogue in ch.2 would point to no. Is he an extension of Kris themselves, given the link between Kris’s childhood habit of wearing a headband with red horns on it, to pretend to be a monster like their family?
Ralsei knows exactly where the Dark World in the school is located, and unlike regular Darkners, knows the world is folded up inside the ‘real world’. There’s a certain whiplash to Ralsei telling you to hop out of his reality into yours and go down the hallway to retrieve all the board game items.
How does he jump from one Dark World to another, without assistance? How does he not get petrified like Lancer and Rouxls? Is this a power level thing because he’s a prince or something else? We definitely do not know enough about Ralsei.
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He also says this incredibly suspicious thing after you spare Spamton NEO. Susie was also curious but accepts that maybe it ‘didn’t mean anything’, which is a sure tell that these optional bosses do mean something.
Someone is orchestrating what’s happening, opening fountains, manipulating the rulers, and influencing NPCs to become the optional bosses. Why? I suspect Ralsei for both knowing too much, and pretending something doesn’t matter when it clearly does. Until Asriel actually comes home from college I’m going to suspect he’s involved in this too.
How much does Seam know?
Seam on the other hand knows a lot about what’s going on but is openly withholding information while helping you. He’s nihilistic. He says things like:
One day soon... You too, will begin to realize the futility of your actions. Ha ha ha... At that time, feel free to come back here. I'll make you tea... And we can toast... to the end of the world!
Either this ‘end of the world’ is a reference to The Roaring, where opening too many dark fountains dooms the Dark World and the real one... or, I can’t get out of my head the idea that Deltarune takes place in a fake, or weird reconstruction of Undertale where things don’t match up, and eventually it will have to disappear. After all, powers of determination and creating and manipulating universes are Undertale’s basic bread and butter. How can we look at an Alternate Universe containing the characters we already know and not suspect that? Seam also uses Gaster’s key words, ‘darker, yet darker’, seemingly to clue us in that he’s not off track here.
Why haven’t we seen Papyrus?
This is a bright neon flashing ‘something’s not right’ sign. It’s not like Papyrus’s voice actor was too busy or anything. His absence is noticable and for a reason. Nice of Sans to promise we could meet him despite being aware we’re piloting a child’s body around, though, even if he didn’t follow through.
What locations in town could be used for dark fountains in the next 4 chapters?
If the sequence continues, we have chapter 1 in the school games room, chapter 2 in a computer lab, and chapter 3 in front of Kris’s television, where the aesthetic of each setting influences the world, characters, and enemies in the Dark World created there. Future possibilities include the church, the hospital, sans’s grocery store, Noelle’s house, and the closed bunker.
What the hell’s in the closed bunker
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This one’s too obvious, honestly. I think it’ll open for no reason in chapter 7 and a little white dog will bounce out and steal one of your key items and nothing else happens.
Why does Asgore have these
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Unlike the bunker feeling like a joke teaser, I gotta believe this is foreshadowing something weird. For example, what does opening a dark fountain in here with the seven flowers do? Does it just take you into Undertale?
Each chapter will have a hidden boss with a ‘soul mode’ from Undertale
Chapter 1 let you stay red, but I think each subsequent chapter is going to change your soul mode to one of the seven colours and design the encounter around that. Purple, yellow, green and blue were used in Undertale, leaving the light blue and orange modes yet to be revealed.
How does Spamton emulate Mettaton Neo’s name, body, and incorporate his battle theme, and the ‘Dummy!’ theme, with no actual connection between them ingame?
This is a really fun one that’s explained over in this post here. Swatch is the Dark World creation from the paint program on the library computers, so he’s able to explain that a Lightner made the robot body decaying in the castle basement that way.
Mettaton went to the library and drew his ideal form, Mettaton NEO, in MS Paint, and the Dark World formed that into a puppet body which Spamton was able to hijack temporarily. So by doing that Spamton was able to channel Mettaton’s appearance, attacks, music, and SOUL mode for the fight.
This might mean that the future hidden bosses, each with their own SOUL mode, might be based on the associated character for that mode (Muffet, Undyne, and Sans or Papyrus), and the boss will take on some aspect of them from their world to leech their fight mechanics.
The Problem With Mettaton
We don’t exactly know what Deltarune is about. It’s an alternate universe where the characters from Undertale already live on the surface, have completely normal lives, but diverge from the storyline of Undertale and, crucially, have not lived through the changes Frisk brought to their lives.
Remember how Undertale had a dozen different ending routes depending on who you befriended? The constant reinforcement in Undertale was that your choices mattered. Through Frisk, you chose to bring Alphys closure about her mistakes, you chose to befriend papyrus instead of attacking him, you chose to help Alphys and Undyne realise their feelings for each other and it’s only doing that that leads to the golden ending and escape to the surface.
Deltarune is the opposite, your choices do not matter. The only thing you can do to force the route of the game to change is to force Noelle into a No Mercy run, which is indirect, and also, a total desperation to mess with an otherwise set course. This version of the characters have not been helped by Frisk - Undyne and Alphys are not together, Papyrus has no friends, Asgore cannot get over himself, and they’re clearly the worse for it, but potentially, you COULD still do these things. In fact it’s hinted that you already are.
But there’s Mettaton.
He’s still a ghost and does not leave his house. In Frisk’s world, Gaster deleted himself, promoting Alphys to royal scientist by bluffing with Mettaton, and she then build him his ideal body. In Kris’s world... Alphys is a school teacher. There’s no barrier to break, no reason to experiment on souls, no Flowey mistake, and no body for Mettaton.
It was sad in Ch.1, but now with the Spamton NEO fight in ch.2, it’s unmissable. Mettaton wants that body and he cannot get it. Alphys in this universe is not going to leave her teaching job and suddenly be able to build a robot. Mettaton is just... screwed out of his happy ending and cannot get it.
So what resolution could this have? If it wasn’t for Mettaton I might believe in the vaildity of Deltarune and Hometown. But. How can you doom this character? If Undertale was the only way Mettaton could be befriended, then Undertale is Primary Universe A and Seam is right - the world of Deltarune is doomed as some kind of aberration. It all relies on how this gets explained in the future, but the core mystery of Deltarune is how exactly this universe intersects with Undertale and whether one is an offshoot of the other. How the Dark World links into that is another complication. But even as we get more fun characters and neat stuff in the Dark Worlds, let’s not forget we have absolutely no idea why Undertale’s characters are living here with no mention of underground or why there are no other humans beside Kris.
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buckyownsmylife · 3 years
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white winter hymnal - tom hardy smut
The one where you’re Tom’s PA and you two get snowed in.
Warnings: smut, boss/employee relationship, dirty talk, kind of sexist remarks?, that wasn’t my intention, but maybe that’s how you’ll see it, so I should warn you about it, reader is very sex positive in this fic, idiot in lust, PA!Reader, jealous!Tom, kinda possessive! or maybe asshole!Tom, again it wasn’t my intention, I just wanted to write some dirty talk, use of the term cockslut and another that I can’t remember, or maybe it was cockslut twice
A/N: I’m not really satisfied with this collage, but this will have to do 🤷‍♀️ Anyway, here’s another anon request I received a while back. Please take everything Tom says as nothing more than dirty talk. Also, I did that thing where I wrote a pre-POV intro, idk if it’s any good but when the inspiration hits, I just roll with it ✌
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Y/N wasn’t having a good week at work. It wasn’t that something wrong had happened - actually when you considered the cold facts about what had left her feeling so high strung that a simple touch almost made her moan, anyone would think she was crazy. Those were nice things, good situations that she’d found herself in.
But she’d disagree emphatically. There was nothing nice about the fuck-me eyes with which Tom, her boss, had regarded her when she arrived on set with the pencil skirt that she knew made her ass look great. There was nothing nice about the way he’d commented on how she was out to get him, making his life more difficult because of the way she was dressing. There was nothing nice about how he had kept on complimenting her, telling her how pretty she looked with her hair down, or how he joked about how it must have hurt when she fell from heaven.
And especially, there was absolutely nothing nice about the subtle, fleeting touches he’d decided to shower her with, leaving her burning and more aroused than she cared to admit, considering how innocent they actually were. Tom had been flirting with her ever since her job interview, it was nothing new and she should have gotten used to it by now.
But the truth was that she didn’t, she couldn’t. And who could really blame her, when every day it seemed like Tom stepped up a notch, making it harder and harder for her to ignore his advances and keep things professional between them?
Especially considering just how badly she needed to get off and just how attracted she was to him and his stupidly perfect body and damn hypnotizing smirk. She was only human, after all. A human woman with healthy desires that seemed to revolve exclusively about her boss.
God, she was pathetic. At least, she could always count on Saturday nights. That was the time she managed to escape the acting world and the craziness of the set where they had been filming for the last month to go to the bar and find someone who’d take her home and help her deal with her growing levels of horny.
If it weren’t for random strangers who knew what to do in bed, she wasn’t too sure she wouldn’t have succumbed to Tom’s spell and climbed him like a tree already. And that’s where she was headed, just after she stopped by his rental house and went over their schedule for the week ahead.
She’d get through this, she thought as she made sure her coat was tightly wrapped around her waist before exiting her car and running towards the front door, ignoring the snow that had been lightly falling since that morning. Just two more hours and she would be on her way to drowning her needs in another stranger’s body, just to pretend that she didn’t think about Tom during the entire act.
Yeah. She could totally do this.
Tom was screwed.
He had been since he first laid his eyes on her, some five months ago, just before they moved to this fucking freezing country to start filming for his next movie. He knew even back then, he should have thanked her with a smile, explained that she wasn’t right for the job, and asked her out. The fact that she was the best person for the job shouldn’t even have counted, because he was head over heels for her in that first meeting, how the fuck could he keep himself away when she was supposed to be working by his side every minute of every day?
In the end, the idea of having to wait until the end of filming to actually get to spend some time with her made him take the impulsive decision that led him to this situation. Having her so close, but nowhere near what he wished for.
It was hell on Earth. Especially since he knew she felt the same way, he could see it in her eyes, in the way she squeezed her thighs together every time he so much as looked her way. If only she wasn’t so unbelievably professional.
“Tom?” He heard her sweet voice calling out from downstairs and casted a glance at the window. The snow had been gradually building up since that morning, it was a surprise she had managed to reach his house in the first place. But of course, she would never let something as silly as the weather keep her away from her responsibilities.
With a low chuckle, he made his way to the living room, rubbing his hands together to create some warmth despite the heaters that were working overtime since he arrived at that house. It didn’t matter, it was still too fucking cold.
“Ready to go over your schedule?” He trailed his eyes over her body, taking notice of the dress she was wearing over the warm leggings. What day was it? Oh, right. Her day off started the minute she finished this one last task, and then she’d be off to…
He knew where she’d be off to. Thinking about it made him see red, especially since he didn’t have the opportunity to do the same where they were. He envied her, but he envied the lucky bastard that got to fuck her tonight even more.
“Of course,” was all he said, assuming a spot on the seat next to hers on the couch. She visibly tensed, but then threw him a small smile that seemed to try to ease her own nerves, to which he returned with a grin of his own.
“What are you all smiley about?” It was nice to see her more laidback, it was clear that the prospect of letting off some steam tonight was relaxing her. Tom could work with that. In fact, it just made his plans that much easier.
“I can’t imagine how someone could be near a woman as beautiful and not be happy, sweetheart.” Her smile immediately dropped, her eyes growing twice their size as he maintained his grin. “But let’s get on with it, shall we? I have a lot to plan out with you.”
She raised an eyebrow at his lack of interest in continuing to mess with her but shrugged it off before opening her planner. They did have a lot to talk about before she could finally leave to the nearest bar.
Tom chanced a glance out the window as she tried to locate their current week on her faithful notebook. This might just turn out the way he needed it to be.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
“Aaaand… I guess this finalizes your schedule for the next week,” I commented as I made sure to correct the time for a phone interview Tom would be having on the following Friday, before glancing up at him. He’d been mostly quiet for the last few minutes, a stark difference from how he had behaved during the entire meeting. Through all my time working for him, it had been the first time he was actually really present for the scheduling of his following week, making changes and trying to be sure that it would go as smoothly as he wanted it to be.
It wasn’t an unwelcome change, but it sure was peculiar. And by now, I knew him enough to get that there was definitely a hidden reason for him to be behaving this way. Still, I couldn’t yet grasp what it was that he had planned, so I resigned myself to getting through with what I intended to do for the day, and thankfully, that was now done.
“Well, if you won’t be needing me anymore, I’ll be getting out of your hair now.” I smiled softly down at him when I left the sofa, making quick work of my scattered papers and random pens before straightening out to say goodbye. “What?” I had to ask since he was looking at me like he was trying to contain his laughter.
“Well, first of all, sweetheart, I always need you. Perhaps not in the way you’re supposed to help with, according to your job description, but it’s the truth.” I had difficulty maintaining eye contact after that, opting to stare at the mountain of documents in my hands while I fidgeted from one foot to the other, feeling the arousal inside of me sparkle before starting to burn even more intensely. Why did he have to be so honest about wanting me?
“Second and perhaps most importantly… I think you’re stuck with me for the rest of the evening, love.” That made me look at him again, desperate to find any signs that he was only toying with my emotions, anything to show me that he was only playing. But all I got was a nod of his head, pointing towards the windows, and that’s when it hit me.
We were snowed in.
A lot of different feelings took over me at the realization. First, there was despair. What would I do now that I couldn’t go to the bar? Then, there was anxiety. How the fuck was I supposed to survive spending the night with my boss - to whom I was attracted to - in a house with a single room in it?
Finally, sheer panic set in, making me shake my head in frustration. I’d never be able to find enough control to resist him without the release that my weekly escapades granted me. And by the way he stared up at me, with those darkened eyes filled with lust, I could tell that he knew.
I watched with a trembling body as he slowly rose from the seat and made his way to me until we were chest to chest. His eyes ran up and down my body until they finally settled on mine again, and I had to bite down a whimper. 
That’s how weak I was for him. He could reduce me to a wanton mess with a fucking stare.
“You’re scared.” It wasn’t a question. Both he and I recognized it as a fact. Still, I whispered into the air between us, “Yes.” Immediately, he pressed on. “Of me?” I almost melted at the sight of such a burly, strong man, towering over me and devastated at the prospect of threatening me.
Tom’s P.O.V.
I waited for her answer with a heavy heart, but the hopeful expectation that she did actually feel just the same as I did: scared at the prospect of what could happen between us, but equally excited. 
“No.” I tilted my head at the word, curious as to what was her explanation, then.
“Then what?”
“Of what could happen if I let go of my control. Of what I would become.” Slowly, a smile took over my face, and I finally felt confident enough in her feelings to feel like I could touch her. So I raised my hands to hold her hips, rejoicing in just how small she was in comparison to me. It felt like I could very easily pick her up and take her - in whichever way I wanted. And there were a lot of them.
“Let go,” I whispered in her ear, having leaned down so I could compensate for our difference in height. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you without that precious control of yours.”
Goosebumps had spread all over her skin at the difference in temperature of my breath and her skin. I watched in fascination, following their trail, rubbing my nose across her jaw before finally, her lips were inches from mine. And then they were mine.
I possessed her mouth just like I’d fantasized for so long, desperate to make up for the lost time, for all the nights I spent alone thinking about her while she was off with someone else. And she responded just in kind, her arms barely able to embrace my body, but her palms were spread over my back, pulling me closer, and that was more than enough for me. 
For now, at least. Now that I’d captured her on my web, there was no way I was letting her go before I fulfilled each and every one of the dirty, dirty dreams I had about the two of us. I was going to ravish her. I was going to ruin her.
She let out a tiny whimper when I pried her lips open with my tongue, before melting in my arms as I explored her mouth, basked on her taste. “You know there’s no way I’m letting you go now, right?”
By the way she looked at me with hazy eyes, it was clear that there would be no resistance from her whatsoever. She was pliant and soft in my hands, easily following when I picked her up and climbed up the stairs to my room with her in my arms. And then, when she was on the bed, there was just no way I could control myself anymore, not even long enough to take off our clothes properly. So I just flipped her skirt up, before ripping apart her leggings and finding her underwear absolutely drenched for me.
“Fuck,” I whispered, already reaching out to rub my thumb over her nub, making her gasp and cry out for me. “I can smell you dripping through the fabric, sweetheart.” To my pleasure, she didn’t seem coy about it at all. 
Oh, no. My little assistant, the picture-perfect of professionality was licking her lips, frantically nodding to my indication. “For you, I’m always dripping for you.” A smirk took over my face at her confession, my cock hardening even more at hearing that while I was suffering silently all that time, so was she.
So I ripped her underwear to shreds, spreading my hands over the inside of her thighs to get the perfect view of that pussy that had been haunting my dreams. “Shit, I can’t wait to eat that.”  And with only those words as warning, I dove right in, attracted by the sweet smell that made my mouth water.
She was just as sweet as I thought, but the sounds with which she filled my bedroom were what drove me crazy. I couldn’t close my eyes to fully appreciate her taste, too transfixed by her beauty, unable to believe that I finally had her, that it was her pussy I was currently lapping.
“Damn, look at you,” I hummed against her clit, making her jerk and try to pull away for a split second before I threw an arm over her hips to secure her position. “You fought so hard against your instincts, only to end up right here, spread open for me.”
With each word that left my lips, she seemed to get closer and closer to her release. “And to think you could have had my mouth on you all this time. Tell me, darling, do you think a stranger could make you feel better? Were any of the people you fucked, trying to ignore our connection, this great at making you cum?”
I could feel her muscles quiver under the soft skin of the inside of her thigh, and I doubled my efforts on her pussy, determined to see her cum at least once before I finally got my cock in her. It was throbbing now, begging for any sort of attention, but I was too transfixed by the sight of her reaching her high, the way her chest heaved as I quickly rubbed her clit with my tongue before sucking it into my mouth.
“Gimme your cum, baby. C’mon. Been waiting so long to get you in my bed…” She came as I hummed against her, the sensations obviously flipping her over that edge. “Fuck, you’re sweet.”
I kept on slowly cleaning her up, mindful of not hurting her, as she struggled to get her breathing in check. Despite her sensitivity, I couldn’t get myself to part with her taste just yet, even considering the possibility of eating her out some more, making her cum one or two more times before I fucked her properly.
But that was all before she fractured my control with two simple sentences. “Want some help with that? I’ve really been looking forward to getting your cock in my mouth.” I hadn’t even realized that I had been grinding against the mattress as I pleasured her, just to relieve my needy member at least a little bit.
What I knew was that I most definitely would not be able to hold back enough to feel her mouth around me. At least this first time. So all she got was a growl as I pounced on her, forcing her to taste her cum as I kissed those gorgeous lips and held her knees open to accept my weight between them.
“Right now, I’m gonna fuck this little pussy until you’re sobbing for me, okay, love? If you beg nicely, I might let you taste me later.” She whimpered in response, and a smirk took over my face. “Wow, you really are cockdrunk for me, aren’t you sweetheart?” The whine I got only made me laugh, giving me a little bit more control to tease her some more.
“You think you’re ready for me?” I asked, pressing the head of my cock against her clit, rubbing it with my member. “Are you sure you can handle my dick, darling?” Watching her thrash around the bed in an effort to get me to push into her was something I never thought I’d get to see. It made that moment of victory just that much sweeter.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
I was trembling in anticipation to finally have him inside of me. To feel that fat cock stretching me open, filling me up like I’d always wanted it to. It was enough to drive me absolutely crazy with desire.
“Yes, yes, please, I can handle it. Please, stop teasing me,” I begged, my hands not able to choose what to hold as I struggled to keep myself from losing my mind over my boss’ cock. From the depths of my desire, I took notice of the way he smirked, one eyebrow raised up as he stared down at me, still slowly running the head of his cock between my pussy lips.
“Teasing? This isn’t teasing, love. Teasing is what you did to me, every single day since we met, parading everywhere with those fucking skintight skirts.” And with those words as preamble, he finally slid home, only stopping when he was completely inside of me, hitting my cervix and difficulting the now herculean task of remembering how to breathe again.
“Fuck, I knew you’d be this tight. I just fucking knew it.” Those were the last things I heard before he started pounding me against the mattress, barely having given me any time to get used to his thickness. 
If I thought I was losing my mind before, it became clear from the way he was bruising my insides that there was no possibility of me ever leaving this bed as a sane woman. Tom had managed to reduce me to a blubbering, stupid mess. He truly had turned me into his cockslut, I realized. I’d do anything just to keep being filled by him, over and over again.
“See? This is what you could have been having this entire time. Me and my cock. Instead, you just had to leave me for those random men. And while you were out, having your fun, all I had to keep me company was my own hand.” Tom never stopped the torturing pace with which he kept on fucking me as he slowly drove me crazy with his words. It was just unbelievable how great he was at dirty talk, I felt like I could cum already from the rhythmic attack on my sweet spot and the filth he was spilling. 
The mental image he elicited of him touching himself didn’t hurt, either.
“You’re so egoistic, sweetheart. Wasn’t it your job to serve me? Instead, I had to get off all by myself.” Despite the teasing nature of his remarks and the still brutal pace of his thrusts, his touch over my body was gentle, as he gathered my hair away from my face so he could bury his head in the crook of my neck.
“You… You could have had anyone you wanted,” I managed to remind him, starting to mirror his movements, fucking myself up on his cock. “You could have had anyone at all.” Abruptly, he stopped hiding his face against my skin, pushing away just enough to watch my expression - or maybe to show me his, in all of its seriousness.
“The only one I wanted was you. This was everything I wished for, since day one.” Tom raised himself slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts in a way that had me gasping in surprise, while also preventing me from being able to figure out what I could possibly say to that. So he continued, slowing the movements only a bit, but fucking me deeper, his eyes searching mine for something I couldn’t pinpoint. 
Tom’s P.O.V.
She gasped, finally giving up that last little bit of control and allowing herself to relax against the mattress as I did all of the work. “But now I have you, huh? And this is where you should be spending your days, with my cock deep inside of your pussy, keeping me warm, keeping me happy.” I kissed her before finishing, “Keeping me fulfilled.”
With a moan that electrified every single cell of my body, she came and prompted my own orgasm, and I spilled inside of her with a roar, momentarily losing my strength and falling on top of her body.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, darling. Let me get out of you.” But she stopped me from leaving her arms and her pussy, hugging me to her chest until I had no other choice but to cuddle her.
“It’s okay,” she said, fingers lightly running through my short hair. “I like it.”
I fell asleep that night happy because I understood that was her way of saying that she was satisfied with this development in our once strictly professional relationship. And I couldn’t wait to wake her up with another reason why she shouldn’t regret this.
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purrincess-chat · 3 years
Text
Cat’s Definitive Ranking of Every ML Episode as of 4/22/21
Are you guys ready for this? I did the thing. You’re all welcome. Don’t ever ask me for anything again. You can watch me get progressively more unhinged in real time. 
Now, just to preface this, I did not give this too much thought. Most of these are just my gut feelings. I went through every episode and just made some snap judgments based off the lasting impressions I’ve been left with. These are my opinions. If you don’t like them, tough. And also I don’t care. Go spend 4 hours making your own damn ranking. And shut the hell up. Anyway, this is probably the longest post I’ve ever made, so I’m gonna put it all under a read more. Click on it if you have an hour to read it. Okay, here we go!
1.     Origins II- Good starting point for our heroes. Good establishment of canon ships and character dynamics. Umbrella scene literally stole my wallet. Cannot emphasis enough that I am whipped for the umbrella scene. I wrote a whole ass AU just to say how whipped I am for the umbrella scene. In the Rain will play at my wedding. Jk. Weddings are for suckers. But dammit if I don’t want these kids to get married. 10/10
2.     Origins I- Good introduction to lore. Good introduction to characters. Good establishment of status quoyo. Just good. 10/10
3.     Simon Says- Listen, I am nothing if not a shipper at heart. This episode just sparks joy. And the whole series almost ended when Gabriel almost jumped off the roof. I was really rooting for this one. This was the episode where I saw Ladrien and went yes, ma’am, I’ll have one of those. 10/10
4.     Evillustrator- Are you all surprised? Cat, the MC-skeptic ranked the pivotal MC episode so highly? Well, let me tell you all a thing, I started this fandom out a MC shipper because of this episode. Their first interaction is gold. I don’t deny that. I enjoy it. This is the MC dynamic I fell in love with. Yall toxic shippers ruined MC for me when you opened your mouths and spat in the face of Ladrien and baselessly declared MC the sin-ship. We all know it’s Ladrien. Stop kidding yourselves. Boy in leather catsuit? Please. Basic ass vanilla bitches. I’m getting off-topic. Solid episode 10/10. We love to see it.
5.     Stormy Weather- Baby’s first Miraculous episode. It holds a special place in my heart. It’s a solid episode. Good establishment of what the show is. Fun villain. Good times. Fond memories. 10/10
6.     Riposte- Listen, I know I’m an Adrinette stan, but hear me out: Ladrien. It’s just so good. And Kagami was compelling in this episode. It was just really solid. It’s my favorite s2 episode. If you ask me if I want to rewatch Riposte, the answer is always yes. 10/10. We stan.
7.     Gorizilla- Okay, so this episode has some solid Adrinette in it, but the real reason it ranks so high is that fucking Ladrien trust fall. I stare at that scene for hours, you guys. HOURS. It is absolutely just *chefs kiss*. Sometimes when I need a pick-me-up, I just go watch gifs of that catch on loop. 10/10. Beautiful. Radiant. Carefree.
8.     Gang of Secrets- I have been keeping most of my opinions to myself about s4 (mostly because I’ve backed way the hell out of this fandom), but GoS was pretty solid. Gotta say, it’s the first episode in a long time with this show that made me actually excited to see what happens next. Most other episodes I was like, okay, that was cute. The show is still meh overall. But GoS really got me like oh shit, is ML good again? 10/10 for making me feel things again.
9.     Oblivio- Told you guys this one was probably rated higher than I thought. Oblivio is just really fun. There is good Adrinette. That “No wonder I fell in love with you” paired with the softest of Adrien smiles just sends me. And the kisses. The unquestionable trust. These two kids literally woke up together alone in an elevator with no memories and said welp, you’re my boyfriend/girlfriend obviously, I don’t make the rules. Honestly, how anyone could argue that these two dorks aren’t made for each other after that episode is beyond me. 9/10
10.  Backwarder- Okay, I know I am weird and alone for this one, but I really liked this episode. It got a lot of shit for the constipation capsule thing at the end, but like who cares? We finally got some more backstory on Fu. He got a love-interest who is dope as hell. This episode is my favorite lucky charm use ever. Like that queen DID that. I like Backwarder, guys! Fuck off. 9/10.
11.  Kwamibuster- We all know I am a Marinette-stan by this point, but our girl was SHINING this episode. This bitch said gimme all them and let me go whoop this bitch’s ass, and she DID. Hawkmoth could never. Multimouse is a gift, and Marinette is a boss ass queen.  9/10
12.  Chat Blanc- Listen, this episode was very good. I enjoy the idea of my children being happy in another timeline somewhere very much. We got all 4 sides of the square in an episode. It’s just really solid. I know this is the fandom’s favorite, and everyone is gonna shit their pants because it didn’t make my top 10, but this is my list. So, I put it at number 12. It’s good. I like it. It just didn’t steal my wallet like other episodes did. Put the pitchforks down. It’s gonna be okay, you can still love it more than me. 8/10
13.  New York Special- I know everyone felt some type of way about this special, but I wasn’t mad at it. My perception of it might be clouded because I watched it in Disney World where I was chilling and having a great time, but like this special really did somethings for me. The Adrinette was top tier. Tippy top tier. Even though they hurt us in the end, I am okay with it because it just means the children will grow and come out stronger. I don’t care if it’s not technically canon. Ask me if I give a fuck. I don’t. I had fun here. 8/10. Solid.
14.  The Collector- This one might shock a lot of you, but let me paint you a scene. It’s the first episode of s2. We have just come off a 2 year hiatus. The fandom is thriving. We’re hungry for canon content. We have hopes and dreams and expectations. Everyone is going wild with theories. This episode confirmed something that was long since obvious (in my opinion) and ended the stupid arguments people had been having. It made Gabriel actually seem semi-competent. We got our first taste of how Chat/Adrien will react to his dad being Hawkmoth. We got a peek at their life. Adrien’s isolation and sadness. They were so close to figuring it out. The battle was epic. Like Collector really had them on the ropes there for a second. It’s a solid episode, yall. I’m not wrong. Hate me all you want, but this episode brought it. 8/10
15.  Despair Bear- Is this episode up this high because of the Adrinette slow dance scene? YOU BET YOUR ASS IT IS. Okay, but fr though, shipping aside, this episode gave us hope that Chloe was actually gonna redeem herself. I mean, she didn’t but, we didn’t know that at the time. Seeing her run around trying to be nice was fun. And then she actually did something good, and we had a moment of okay, she’s capable. We’ll get there. We didn’t. But what a ride this episode was for making us think she would. 8/10
16.  Startrain- Cat, you’re just ranking all the Adrinette episodes highest. And? What of it? Are you surprised? You clicked a blog that has simping for Adrinette in the description, and you’re surprised all my favorite episodes have Adrinette? I’m not wrong, you’re just an idiot. The Adrinette nap cuddles aside though, this was a pretty good episode. If you don’t think too hard about the whole space thing, we got a look at Max’s life, his mom is a driven, smart lady doing her best. Adrien rebels against papa for once. Alya stops a Lila scheme. Chloe gets to play the hero. Alya and Nino actually investigate like the heroes they are. Gabriel gets to realize what a dumbass bitch he is. I mean. Guys. Startrain is solid. 7.5/10
17.  Sapotis- This one shot up in rank for me after GoS, but tbh it’s always been a solid episode. Alyanette sleepover? Check. Alya becoming a superhero? Check. It’s a fun episode. And looking back, it’s nicely called back to later in GoS. We love it. 7.5/10
18.  Sandboy- Idk why I enjoy this episode as much as I do, but I do. Sandboy is a cute bean. I love his aesthetic. We also get hilarious looks at everyone’s nightmares. “Plagg, who turned you into a sock?” cracks me up cause like Adrien, bby, no XD And Chat Noir’s nightmare. I think it would have been interesting though if since Sandboy dusted the Agreste mansion, if we got a peek at Hawkmoth’s nightmares. It would have been a nice hint of plot to go along with Master Fu’s nightmare. Also Plagg giving the akuma the slip like the clever boy we know he is deep down? 7.5/10
19.  Furious Fu- If you guys haven’t realized by now that I love Fu, idk what you’re doing. Pay attention. I know that some people don’t like him, but I’m just gonna say it, you’re wrong. Fu took care of the Miracle Box for over 100 years, and this episode kind of gives some insight to what the Order was like. Very strict. Lots of rules. And ya know what, Fu said fuck the police, I’m gonna befriend these little magical demigods, and fuck off! Like what an absolute legend. I was really happy to see him living his best life, and that he and Marianne got married because it’s what he deserves. We love to see it. 7.5/10
20.  Gamer- People like to shit on Marinette in this episode, but like honestly, if I were in her shoes, I’d have probably done the same thing if I had the skill. Ain’t nothing wrong with a girl trying to spend time with the boy she likes. And Tom and Sabine being absolute shipping trash. I love them. And the awkward Adrinette. The introduction of the lucky charm that Adrien STILL carries. Wholesome. This was a good episode for their friendship, and we love to see it. 7.5/10
21.  Christmaster- Okay, I know a lot of people hated this episode when it aired, but I thought it was really funny? Everyone skidding around in the ice rink was hilarious. If you don’t take this episode seriously, it’s really fun. Chris is pretty cute, and damn right Ladybug is the best kid in the world. Idk. This episode is fun. I’m not mad at it. Sue me. 7.5/10
22.  Weredad- What? Another MC-heavy episode in Cat’s top 30? Listen, I don’t hate canon MC. The fans just annoy me. This episode was funny. The secondhand embarrassment and cringe was real. Plagg taunting Adrien because he knows the secret was great. Marinette being a self-saving queen was great. It’s a good episode. I like MC, you guys. I do. I swear! 7.5/10
23.  Miraculer- This episode was interesting to me, and I think it’s still a good development episode. For one, Sabrina finally got her own akuma episode named after her. Secondly, because it’s a big step for Chloe, just not in the way we expected. It totally makes sense that Chloe can’t have her Miraculous back because literally everyone knows her identity. Can’t argue that logic. And she is the first person to ever refuse to become akumatized, so like mad respect. I know a lot of people had high hopes for redeemed Chloe (myself included), but I think watching a character fall from revering someone to hating them is also an interesting path. The friends to enemies arc as it were. Idk. I liked this episode. It was an opportunity for Chloe to grow, even if she didn’t in the end, but we’ll talk about that later. 7.5/10
24.  Lady Wifi- I like Alya. I feel like I don’t say that much, and people make some assumptions because of MDCSP, but MDCSP is just a concept I wanted to explore. It doesn’t really reflect how I feel about any one character. Except maybe Lila. And Gabe. But every other spite fic I’ve written branching from Chameleon, the class has been fine. Alya has been fine. So, let it be known that I like Alya. Lady Wifi was a fun episode. Putting aside the fact that she thought Chloe was Ladybug for no reason, I like her akuma. I like the interactions we get with LadyNoir in this episode. After GoS, this episode gets a bit funnier. It’s solid. 7/10
25.  Dark Cupid- I don’t have much to say about this one. LadyNoir. That’s it. That’s the tweet. Send it. 7/10
26.  Volpina- So many things about this episode. It introduced a new antagonist who we didn’t exactly 100% know was going to be an antagonist at the time. This episode sparked a lot of fun fan theories for a while. Who was Lila? How was she going to shake things up? Not to mention this episode gave us a taste of plot and lore, and set up Marinette meeting Master Fu officially. Lots of intrigue sparked from this episode. And that LadyNoir door scene? OOOOOO 7/10
27.  Hearthunter- One word: Adrigaminette. This episode was so cute for them! I loved seeing them all goofing and running around together. Adrien and Kagami being absolutely in love with Marinette when her hair is down. They both love her, I don’t make the rules. Not to mention, Marinette takes a big step by letting her friends be happy without her. Kagami not wanting to hurt Marinette. The drama!! Gabriel being a messy ass bitch to his friends. It loses points for the abomination of an akuma, but overall, I wasn’t too mad at it. Yet. 7/10
28.  Glaciator- More MC in Cat’s top 30? It’s more likely than you think. Listen. Listen… Listen. MC is fine. This episode was the closest thing to fanfiction that we got. The balcony scene was really sweet. I was drinking the irony. We got introduced to Andre the icecream fraud. Andre the please just give me the flavor I asked for man. I could have done without Chat pouting, but the LadyNoir in the end was pretty good. I wish they’d done more with Ladybug’s feelings for Chat. Had her question herself a bit more after this one, but overall, it’s cute. 7/10
29.  Zombizou- A lot of people started hating Mlle. Bustier after this episode, and like I can kind of see it, if I squint, but I did not draw that same conclusion from this episode. Mlle. Bustier just wants good things for all of her students. They’re 14 ffs, she just wants to be a good influence on all of her students and wants them all to be successful. But go off, I guess? Plus, this episode was basically just a spoof on zombie apocalypse movies. We got so many things. Julerose, Myvan, DJWifi. Chloe actually showing some depth and emotion. LadyNoir. We won this episode, babes. Sorry you didn’t get the memo. 7/10
30.  Timetagger- Okay. This is the last episode in the ones that I’d venture to call “good.” Number 30. I enjoyed Timetagger. I know people have feelings about timey-wimey bullshit, and like I’m not gonna lie and say I’m thrilled with it either (I mean, I changed the rabbit’s power in MDCSP) but that being said, Timetagger was so sassy. Bunnix was cool as hell. We get to see that LB and CN are still doing the thing in the future. So many questions sparked from this episode. It was fun. Idk. I liked it. That’s all I got. 7/10
31.  Malediktator- Okay, from this point on, less comments because this is the section that are more or less just meh to me. Like they’re fine. This episode was fine. Chloe was fine. Chat playing with the laser was cute. 6.5/10
32.  Mayura- Adrien’s speech at the end. Nuff said 6.5/10
33.  Ikari Gozen- Ryuko/Ryuuko. Gals being pals. 6.5/10
34.  Reflekdoll- I talked about this earlier, but I don’t hate this episode. It’s not as bad as people make it out to be. Sue me. 6.5/10
35.  Anansi- Nino is the goodest boy. Also I need more of the gang taking Adrien on adventures via Facetime. Stat. 6.5/10
36.  Shanghai- This one is new, and tbh I still haven’t watched it with subs, but I had a good time. Fei was cute. The boy squad was cute. Adrien bonding with Great Uncle Cheng was cute. Hawkmoth getting literally dunked on was *chefs kiss* 6.5/10
37.  Gigantitan- I love overly supportive, ride-or-die girl squad. 6.5/10
38.  Party Crasher- Idk why this episode was funny to me. Kim is the purest bean. We don’t deserve him. 6.5/10
39.  Desperada- This episode was an emotional roller coaster, and even though we all collectively hate Aspik’s stupid egghead, we love the Ladrien this episode provided us. 6/10
40.  Oni-chan- Listen, I loved seeing Lila get a tiny bit of karma even if she made it up in the end. I loved Chat going off on her. I loved seeing her get outsmarted in the end. 6/10
41.  Frightningale- My good lesbian Clara Nightingale. We stan. 6/10
42.  Style Queen- I like Audrey in a “she’s the worst person I’ve ever met, I want to travel the world with her” kind of way. She’s funny to me. Idk. I love her firing everyone. She’s the one I love to hate. She’s the worst, but we love her for it. Plus this episode gave us Plagg’s adorable little Cataclysm that destroyed half the city. 6/10
43.  Gamer 2.0- Chat confidently strutting in heels made this episode worth it. And we get to see the beginning of Marinette being overwhelmed. Plus it was the return of gamer!nette. 6/10
44.  Troublemaker- I don’t hate this episode as much as the next person either. It was fine. Jagged is a manchild, but we love him for it. He’s a Marinette stan which like mood. The Adrinette at the end was cute. I wasn’t mad at it. Idk. It’s fine. 6/10
45.  Reflekta- Where are all my Juleka stans at? I loved the LadyNoir banter in this ep. V. cute. 6/10
46.  Dark Owl- This episode was fun. And it really shows their level of trust. Plus Plagg and Tikki interacted. 6/10
47.  Timebreaker- Have I ever mentioned that I like Alix? I like Alix. 6/10
48.  Silencer- I don’t hate this episode as much as you’d expect me to, and that is 100% because of the LadyNoir. 5.5/10
49.  Prime Queen- Chat purrs. 5.5/10
50.  Syren- I think the fish power-up is adorable. Ondine is a gem. Kim is a pure bean, but we been knew. 5.5/10
51.  Befana- I like Gina, but this episode fell flat for me. Almost as flat as the animation. 5.5/10
52.  Reverser- Another episode that everyone hates that I am actually fine with. This episode made me like Nathaniel more. Probably because I was previously indifferent toward him. Marc is cute too. 5.5/10
53.  Mr. Pigeon- Marinette is one clever girl. And the Adrinette hand-touch. 5.5/10
54.  Felix- Felix is a gremlin of chaos. A true chaotic neutral. He gives his uncle the finger, and I think that’s beautiful. 5.5/10
55.  Truth- Bet you expected this episode to be higher. While I did enjoy watching toxic people’s world crumble, this episode still gets a meh from me dog. 5/10
56.  Lies- The Adrigami was cute, and I respect Kagami as a character. The akuma could have been better tho. 5/10
57.  Princess Fragrance- Not much to say here. 5/10
58.  Copycat- 5/10
59.  Bubbler- 5/10
60.  Mime- 5/10
61.  Animan- 5/10
62.  Robostus- 5/10
63.  Ladybug- This episode ranks this low purely because I don’t care about GabeNath, and I hate that Lila won something in the end. But Adrien saying I won’t hesitate, bitch! At the end was nice to see. 5/10
64.  Catalyst- I know I ranked Mayura way higher, but Catalyst fell flat for me. Like it was fine. Wasn’t as into it though. 4.5/10
65.  Puppeteer- One of my favorite lucky charm uses. 4.5/10
66.  Pixelator- My favorite Cataclysm. 4.5/10
67.  Horrificator- That almost-Adrinette kiss tho 4.5/10
68.  Pharaoh- 4.5/10
69.  Kung Food- 4.5/10
70.  Rogercop- 4/10
71.  Guitar Villain- 4/10
72.  Dark Blade- 4/10
73.  Bakerix- 4/10
74.  Antibug- And now onto the bottom 10. To start us off, I will just say: UGH, this episode annoyed me. First of all, Sabrina didn’t even get her own episode. Chloe was a piece of shit. Idk why they made Ladybug the one in the wrong when Chloe was being obnoxious. Ugh. 3/10
75.  Captain Hardrock- I’m gonna be honest. My apathy for this episode has grown into loathing. Toxic stans are 100% to blame. Birthday ruining, bitches. This is the reason I threw a breakup bash after Truth. Yall deserved it. 3/10
76.  Christmas Special- I didn’t hate this episode as much as everyone, but it still wasn’t great. 2.5/10
77.  Stormy Weather 2.0- This episode was really dumb. It didn’t need to exist. 2.0/10
78.  Queen Wasp- Why did we give Chloe a Miraculous after this episode? 2/10
79.  Animaestro- Did we really need a self-insert? Did we really? 2/10
80.  Puppeteer 2.0- Listen, this episode would have made more sense in s1 or at the very latest early s2. Adrien gave a whole ass speech on how great Marinette is, then he turns around and is like idk if she likes me… Clean it up. 2/10
81.  Miracle Queen- I could talk at length about how much I hate the ending of this episode and what they did with Chloe and Master Fu, but we’re just going to remain calm and give it a solid 1.5/10
82.  Frozer- This episode made no goddamn sense. I call bullshit on so many things. Just ugh. 1/10
83.  Chameleon- Surprisingly, even though this episode sparked many, many spite fics out of me, it’s not my least favorite because at least Ladybug semi-redeemed this episode. Still really dumb and ooc tho. 1/10
84.  Feast- Okay, okay, okay, here we are. Bottom of the barrel. Cat’s most hated episode, and you wanna know why? You want to know why this episode fills me with the rage? Because we spent two fucking seasons building up all this mystery and lore and intrigue surrounding Fu’s big mistake, and they dropped the fucking ball! They did my mans so dirty! They could have really deepened his character, deepened the Order, deepened anything other than whatever fucking affair Gabriel and Nathalie have going on, but NO. They made it some stupid, bland-ass thing that got resolved magically in the end, then just ignored it for the rest of the season. I will never not be salty about how they did my boy Fu in this show. I’m happy he found his peace, but fuck if I’m not livid about how they did it. Whatever. Chat being done with Ladybug’s shit when they’re about to get eaten was funny I guess. .5/10
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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years
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Top 10 Favorite Fictional Couples
Happy Valentines Day, people on the internet who probably won't read this! I'm an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. And even though I'm a lonely bastard who will absolutely die alone one day, I am also a sucker for romance. If a story decides to include a cute couple in it, then you better believe I'm going to gush over them for an unhealthy amount of time for a man my age. Even more so if they answer the three most essential questions that I think applies to every romantic couple in fiction:
Why do they like each other? (Looks don't count. It can be an option, but it shouldn't be the only option.)
Would it make sense for them to be together? (Like, if this couple would exist in real life, would you expect them to last.)
Do they have chemistry? (This is the most important one as a couple can dominate just by the chemistry alone.)
So today, I am going to rank my top ten favorite couples in fiction, who just so happen to answer most, if not all, of these questions. Now, I could be cute and make a top fourteen list...but not too long ago, I just listed off the twenty best-animated series of the 2010s, so I think it's best if I stick to the basics. Also, I should make a few things clear:
A. These are couples, not ships. The pairing has to have a canon kiss, or at the very least, a canon confession to be on the list. This means sorry, Lumity fans, but Luz and Amity are not going to be on this list...even though they would absolutely be #1 if they could be!
B. The couple has to at least spend an entire episode being together, which means no last-minute hookups because the writers wanted to drag out the romantic tension. (Sorry, Catradora fans)
With that out of the way, let's get started with--
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10. Laura Hollis and Carmilla Kernstien from Carmilla (Web Series)
The chemistry between these two is on point. Laura’s and Carmilla's actors Elise Bauman and Natasha Negovanlis are so convincing when acting like a couple that I am honestly shocked to find out they never actually dated. This is good because everything else about Laura and Carmilla's relationship is...kind of the worst. Don't get me wrong, as a couple, these two are fantastic, adorable, well-written, and well-performed. But the writers seem very fond of keeping them bickering and broken up rather than actually having them together. And that is where the issue lies. If the writers committed to Laura and Carmilla being together instead of doing this whole "will they or won't they" crap, on top of them being selfish idiots in season two, then you better believe they would be in the top three, at least. As they are, they at least act adorable enough to make the top ten.
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9. Gregg and Angus from Night in the Woods
Ok, I'm gonna level with you: I just wanted to put an mlm relationship on this list, and this was the best I can come up with (I haven't seen Good Omens, nor have I finished Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts yet to see Benson's relationship with Troy. Leave me alone). As a male bisexual, I'm kind of disappointed. I know that male pairings exist in media, but for the life of me, I don't think they are as celebrated as much, or as frequent, as female pairings have been. This is sad because I would honestly love to see how more couples like Gregg and Angus.
These two act so much like a real couple. Gregg and Angus care and support each other so much, yet they still have big arguments as any couple would. They clearly love each other but still have issues they both need to deal with if they want to grow. Plus, I'm just a sucker for opposites attract. And you can't get more opposite than the loud and bombastic Gregg and his quiet and serious boyfriend Angus. There are probably better mlm pairings than these two (And if there are, then let me know. I'd love to check them out), but Gregg and Angus prove that any relationship, no matter the gender, can be the same as any other. Both the wholesomeness and the faults.
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8. Peter Parker and Michelle Jones from the Marvel Cinematic Universe
I put these two a little low because we barely see them spend time as a couple. Peter and Michelle got together at the end of Spider-Man: Far From Home, and we only get a glimpse of how their relationship works in the last few minutes. However, I'm willing to argue that they count because they are guaranteed to be a couple in the sequels, and we'll be allowed to see them grow. How often do you get to say that for other fictional couples who get together at the end of a long story? Plus, Peter and Michelle earn extra bonus points for being the best couple in a Spider-Man movie. Michelle is a league's better character than the MJ in the Sam Rami trilogy, and the chemistry is still adorable but not overtly cutesy like it was in The Amazing Spider-Man movies. So even though Peter and Michelle just got together, they show a lot of promise, if you ask me. Their interactions are adorable, you can tell that Michelle likes Peter for Peter, and they are the most accurate depictions of young love you’ll ever see. Just look at that first kiss. It was one filled with inexperience and awkwardness and I just love it! I’m already interested in what these two have to offer and I can’t wait to see what happens next with them.
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7. Andy Dwyer and April Ludgate from Parks and Recreation
The best description you'll ever hear about this couple is that they are what happens when a dog and a cat fall in love. Andy is dopey, happy, and loyal to no end. April is intimidating, cynical, and is already plotting your murder as we speak. What I'm saying is that these two shouldn't work...but they do. Somehow, by every leap of logic, Andy and April complete each other. They are both so far gone from reality, yet at the same time, both keep each other grounded in more ways than one. It's a weird paradox that never ceases to amaze, nor does it cease to be adorable. They do go through bullcrap love triangles and a "will they or won't they scenario" in seasons two and three, but once that crap is over, the writers lean into the potential these two have as a great couple. And trust me when I say that it is all lovely to watch.
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6. Rapunzel and Eugene from Tangled: The Series
Huh. I guess romance really does exist after Happily Ever After.
Joking aside, I was surprised by how well these two work as a pairing. Usually, when the Disney Prince and Princess get together in the end, there is nothing more to the relationship. And even if their movie gets a spin-off series, the dynamic is as generic and forgettable as it can be. For Rapunzel and Eugene, it is different. Their chemistry is top-notch, their constant love and support for each other are admirable/adorable, and the complete trust they have for one another is absolute perfection. I was already surprised by how good Tangled: The Series was, but the fact that the main couple is somehow better here than they were in their own movie is something I would have never expected.
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5. Rigby and Eileen from Regular Show
And seeing how we're talking about surprises, who saw these two being the best couple in the series? With the number of times that the writers focussed on Mordecai's romantic hang-ups and how often Muscle Man and Starla were considered the only canon couple, I was shocked when it turned out Rigby and Eileen have the best loving relationship in Regular Show. Even crazier, their relationship is built entirely in the background of the first six seasons. Since her introduction, Eileen has been head over heels for Rigby since the beginning (for reasons I'll never understand), and Rigby slowly reciprocated. Until the big reveal in the season six finale, there was nothing but implications as they were trying to hide their relationship and not rub how perfect it is in Mordecai's face (no matter how much Rigby wants to). But once we get to see them as an official couple, it all becomes clear why they work so well. Eileen loves Rigby for Rigby, and will always support him, faults and all. Rigby pays it all back in spades, wanting to be a better person, as well as a better boyfriend, for the one person who always believes there was something good inside. Not even his own best friend had that much faith in him. And on top of all of that, they're just cute. They may not have been the central hook in the series, but they are definitely much appreciated.
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4. Chris and Elise from Dan Vs./Millie and Moxxie from Helluva Boss
These four are tied because they pretty much have the same dynamic. Chris and Moxxie are these pathetic losers who somehow managed to marry Elise and Millie: Badass assassins who could effortlessly marry any man they want. And what they want are their pathetic losers. It's extra wholesome for Chris and Elise, as Chris really can't do that much right, especially in comparison to the ever-perfect Elise. Yet, she still cares deeply for Chris and will promptly destroy anyone or anything that causes him harm. That being said, while Millie and Moxxie are both equally deadly, there is an odd hilarity to the fact that these literal demons from hell are so gosh darn wholesome. Seriously, their literal job is to kill people who screw over those who went to hell, and I'm always going "D'aww" when M and M always do something cute. Explain that logic to me!
There's nothing more I can say about these four, as they're adorable couples that prove love comes in the most impossible circumstances and the unlikeliest places.
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3. Ruby and Sapphire from Steven Universe
I'll always remember that Ruby and Sapphire are the first couple that proved to me that there is nothing wrong with a same-sex pairing, especially in children's media. Before Steven Universe, I wasn't necessarily told that same-sex couples are wrong, but they're not meant for kids. Then I found out that these two girls, on a kids show of all places, we're madly in love and my first response was: "...Huh." And this was before I knew I was bisexual, so I wasn't even that obsessed about it at the time. But the more I saw Ruby and Sapphire, and the more I learned about how starved the LGBTQ+ was for representation, the more I really appreciated them. Ruby and Sapphire never fail to be precious, and the fact that they barely spend any longer than a few minutes apart is downright heartwarming (and incredibly literal if you've seen the show). They also broke a ton of barriers to proper representation. Not only were Ruby and Sapphire one of the first explicit lesbian couples in children's animation, but they're also the first ones to actually get married. Because of such a power move, many networks and shows make it less of a challenge for writers to include more gay characters in their stories. There is still a lot of hard work that those writers face, but it certainly seems it's less of a challenge than it would be before Steven Universe came out (Ha!). Ruby and Saphire are the first fictional gay couple I have been introduced to and have made an incredible impression ever since.
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2. Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum and Marcelene Abadeer from Adventure Time
But while it's Ruby and Sapphire that introduced me to the concept of a same-sex couple, it's Princess Bubblegum and Marceline that made me root for one. In (I want to say) 2017, I started rewatching Adventure Time, knowing that queer relationships were indeed a thing. This means that not only did I finally caught the INCREDIBLY noticeable subtext in "What Was Missing," but I was legitimately chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" when I got to the episode "Varmints." And when they finally did kiss in the series finale, I full-on jumped out of my chair and screamed, "YES!" That never happens. Not even for the straight couples that I've obsessed over before this. Either I coo at how adorable they are, or just smile a warm and gentle smile. But letting out a very audible cheer that my college roommates definitely heard? That shows how deeply I cared for these two. And can you really blame me?
Not only is the chemistry on point with Bubblegum and Marceline, but it's interesting getting to see their relationship evolve through the course of the series. They have a dynamic of a couple who broke up on bad terms (long before "Obsidian" confirmed this), and you slowly get to see them reconnect to that spark they lost long ago. Plus, the more you see them interact, the more of their history is revealed, and thus it becomes clear why they fell for each other in the first place. Bubblegum keeps Marceline responsible, while Marceline helps Bubblegum learn how to loosen up. They balance each other nicely, and after some much needed growing up from the both of them, that spark returns. And they're much more of a loving unit than they were years ago. It's incredible to watch, and I would honestly see an entire spin-off series about them. But, as great as Bubblegum and Marceline are, there is a reason they are not my number one.
(There’s no art for this one because they’re characters from a book and I don’t want to steal someone else’s fanart for the sake of my crappy Tumblr post)
1. Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase from Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus
And that reason is that I can't resist the first-ever pairing that I obsessed over. Percy and Annabeth might just be the example I live by for how couples should be written in media. Dynamic wise, of course. In terms of telling a story, their relationship was handled poorly in Percy Jackson and the Olympians. It was filled with agonizing love-triangles, a very long wait, and they were one of those couples who didn't get together until the end of the series. Which is a major no-no, in my opinion. But, when they finally get to be a couple in Heroes of Olympus, it is downright perfection. Percy and Annabeth are what happens if these two badass warrior heroes fell in love. They worry about each other and are willing to die for each other (if need be) but still have an intense amount of faith and trust for one another. The number of times Percy or Annabeth knew they would be alright because they have each other is incredibly high, no matter what series of books they appear in. They work well together, as well as off each other. Percy is this bumbling idiot who wins his battles through a mix of luck and skill, where Annabeth is this intelligent warrior who has trained since the age of seven. They compliment each other perfectly, and their constant playful bickering is always fun. I love these two, I love their love, and they will always be one of my favorite fictional couples in media.
(That is until Luz and Amity from The Owl House become cannon. In which case, you better believe they'll be number one.)
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And those are my favorite couples. Out of curiosity, what are yours? Or, at least, what are your top five? Don't feel afraid to let me know or even make a list of your own.
Have a happy Valentine's Day, with whoever you want to celebrate it with and however you want to do it.
Now, if you don't excuse me, I have an entire to-do list of s**t I have to do, and I gotta figure out which to work on first.
(Should I review Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles next, or do that scene breakdown for Amphibia? Oh, the possibilities are killing me...)
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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years
Text
Knitting You a Home - 4
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Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader
Word Count: 2,853
Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - PG-13
Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.
With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?
Warning: None.
Playlist:
Main Master List:
Knitting You a Home Master List:
Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:
Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?
©thatmultifandomhoe Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.
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Grandma was perched on the chair at the register with her knitting, the needles lightly clicking against each other as she moved the yarn forwards and backwards all without looking at her work. It was a skill she acquired from years of practice.
Instead, she watched as you buzzed around the store, arranging and then rearranging displays even though each attempt didn’t look different from the last. It had been amusing within the first ten minutes, but after watching you do this all around the store, she knew something was off, whether or not you wanted to admit it.
“Honey,” Grandma called out, hands still moving as she raised an eyebrow at you. “Did you put something in your breakfast this morning that I should know about? Perhaps you thought it was sugar that you put in your coffee, but it really wasn’t?”
Usually a comment like that would have made you pause and laugh, but you didn’t. Instead, you licked your lip as you glanced at her for a few seconds before adjusting the decorative jade scarf on display.
“I had cereal for breakfast Grandma,” you softly answered, nose scrunching at how the scarf was now set.
The store itself was quiet with the lack of shoppers allowing the conversation to easily pass between you and your Grandmother with ease to keep it from silent. When you didn’t even hear the clicking of her knitting needles, you felt unnerved in the silence.
Turning around, you were surprised to see her arms crossed over her chest, the purple beads attached to her glasses glimmering as she propped them on the top of her head. It had been years since she had looked at you like this; an instant reminder of the days in high school when you attempted to be rebellious.
“What is going on? You’ve managed to do a week’s worth of work in the four hours that we’ve been open.”
You shrugged, looking away and at the scarf. It had been one of Grandmother’s creations. Ideally, it was meant to be worn at events rather than for warmth. “I fell asleep early last night. That’s all.”
It wasn’t a lie. After weeks of waiting up for Namjoon to come home, you finally couldn’t find the strength to stay up, crashing at eleven. You weren’t entirely sure when he came home last night, but when the alarm went off at seven thirty, he was already gone. Unlike you where you needed to be at the store for nine, he had to be at the studio for eight. But like every morning the coffee maker was already set and your favorite mug was waiting, prepared for you by Namjoon himself. All you had to do was press the button to start it.
Grandma shook her head though. Standing up, she walked around the counter and once she was in front of you, pressed her cool hand against your forehead.
The gesture made you smile. “I’m not sick Grandma.”
“I think I’ll decide that,” she teased, gently bopping a finger against the tip of your nose like she had when you were a child. “You may not be sick, but you’re bottling something up for sure.”
She always knew when you were dealing with an issue. As a child, you thought she was able to use magic to sense these types of things, and even though you were now an adult, you still liked to believe that she was magical. Especially when it worked in her favor.
“It’s nothing serious,” you half admitted, smiling up at her. “Namjoon’s just been pulling a lot of hours at the studio, so he’s there more than he’s at home.”
Raising an eyebrow, she ran her fingers through your hair. “He should tell his boss that his wife needs him at home.”
With a giggle, you stepped back once she removed her hand and went back to the scarf display. This time determined to drape it in a way that was pleasing to the eye. “His wife, doesn’t want to interfere with her husband’s career.”
“Please, the two of you are young and in your first year of marriage. He should be with you, in a certain room, in that cozy house of yours that has a few empty bedrooms.” Grandma sent a knowing grin to you, chuckling as you simply shook your head.
“Almost a year,” you corrected. “We’ve known each for a year, but he gave me the Mate Mark in November.”
Grandma hummed, making her way over to a wicker basket that held knitted rabbits dressed in thin sweaters and dresses. They were a hit with young children, perfect as baby shower gifts, and you absolutely loved to make them.
“Which proves my point even more. You’ve been married a little less than a year, and you’re both working like an old married couple.” Holding a bunny, she waved the rabbit’s arm at you. “As your Grandmother and your business partner, I’m telling you that you need a vacation. Go home, take a few days off and sleep in. I can run the shop on my own.”
“Grandma, I’m fi-”
“Yes, you’re fine,” Grandma interrupt. “You’re saying it but I’m not believing it one bit.”
A part of you wanted to argue for a little bit longer, expect all that came out was a sigh of frustration. You were more than capable of working for the rest of the day, but standing by the mannequin, Grandma was right. It was time to recharge yourself, and if you were going to figure out why Namjoon was acting so strange, it would help if you weren’t at the shop all day long. Glancing at the calendar, you realized that it was only Tuesday. How were you already so done with the week when it only just began?
“Alright,” you agreed, setting done the scarf once and for all to head towards the office. “I’ll go home, take that vacation.”
Her excited cheers were ignored as you went to gather your belongings, smiling nonetheless. As much as you teased her, you did love her dearly and were grateful to have Grandmother in your life.
Grabbing your purse, you gave her one last hug and reminded her that you’d be back on Monday before leaving the shop, the little bell jingling in your wake. The car was parked in the back-parking lot, but instead of guiding you there, your feet took you to the right, walking the short distance to another shop that was six doors down from yours.
The air conditioning hit like a wave washing off the summer heat as you entered the bookstore. From nowhere in particular soft music danced around the shop. It had been a while since you last saw Sarah and after everything, you were curious as to how she was doing considering that Hoseok was leaving at the end of the month.
“Be right there,” Sarah called out, her voice coming from a corner of the store that you couldn’t quite see.
“Or I can come to you?” You suggested, releasing the smile when she called out your name in glee.
Following the sound of her voice and books thumping on the floor, you weren’t surprised to see Sarah sitting cross legged on the floor in front of a bookcase. “Well I’m happy to see you like this instead of the last time I saw you.”
Sarah laughed, leaning over to hug you once you sat down next to her. “Believe me, I am too. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at the shop.”
“Grandma insisted I needed a vacation.” You carefully leaned against a bookcase as Sarah continued to stack the shelf.
“Well I mean, you do,” Sarah agreed, glancing in your direction. “Besides that, how’ve you been? I’ve been meaning to text you but ever since Hoseok signed the contract, we’ve been running around trying to figure out what he needs before leaving for Seoul.”
You shrugged, spotting a romance novel with a crown on the cover. “I’m alright. Just…has Namjoon been in lately?”
Her hand paused its task at the mention of his name, this time turning to face you completely. Like your shop had been, the bookstore was currently free of customers. While that tended to be a worry, it was only noon and typical during the week. The weekend was when business really went to town.
“Actually, now that I think about it, he hasn’t been in these last few weeks. I think the last time I saw him was before the Dance Studio’s May show. Why, is something wrong?”
Licking your lips, you turned the book over, grazing the description with your fingertips. It wasn’t unlike Namjoon to skip out on his trips to the bookstore. It had been the first place he went to on his own when he first came to live with you and it was a habit he kept, always excited to tell you about the new sonnets and books he got that day.
It was strange for him to not be coming to the bookstore.
You knew when this all started, and you didn’t think Sarah wanted to be reminded of that so soon. “He’s just been working longer hours,” you said again, faking a smile when she raised an eyebrow. Guilt swirled in your heart from keeping the truth from her, but the last thing you wanted was to have her relive what Sue put her through. Even if it was just by remembering.
Luckily, Sarah nodded after a few moments. Whether or not she believed you, she didn’t mention it. “Oh well he’s probably just tired then. I know I tend to forget things when I’m not running on enough sleep.”
You chuckled in agreement, handing her back the book you had been looking at. “Yeah.”
A comfortable silence fell as Sarah began to re-stack the shelf again. You took the chance to look at her, noticing the differences since the last time you saw her. Namjoon had explained that Hybrids were able to sense everyone’s emotions and that depending on how severe they were, another person’s emotions could affect theirs as well.
When you had gotten the call from Sarah, her voice breaking over the line as she sobbed into the phone, scaring both you and Namjoon – who had been standing nearby and heard it all clear as day – while you hurried to gather your things to go see her. Before even reaching the car, you knew it was bad. She hadn’t even locked her door so when you arrived at her apartment that day, you had walked right in and found her curled up in bed, cheeks blotchy as she cried into her pillow.
It never crossed your mind that by telling Sue about what Colin had been doing would result in the choices that had been made. Guilt had been an unwelcomed guest in your heart and mind during Sarah and Hoseok’s separation. Despite all your attempts to reign in your emotions at home that night, Namjoon had picked up on them so much that as soon as he came home, he was right there by your side, hugging and sweetly kissing you and your Mate Mark, reassuring you that was never going to happen between the two of you.
Despite his promises, it already felt like there was a rift between you and him.
“How are you and Hoseok?” You asked.
Sarah smiled as she ran a hand through her hair, revealing the side of her neck where her own Mate Mark was. To any onlooker – and with some distance – every Mate Mark looked like an identical scar from a bite. Someone who you never met could have one that look just like yours, but upon closer inspection, it was easy to tell that no two were alike. How could they be identical? Namjoon’s jaw and teeth were different from Hoseok’s. It was the finer details; the grooves and ridges were their own individual shape.
“Amazing,” Sarah breathed out. “It’s just so good to have him back home. He finally got the rest of his belongings from Sue since she’s planning on moving, but it finally feels like everything is going right for us.”
It appeared that way too. There was a life in Sarah’s eyes that when you had gone to check on her with Hoseok gone, had been burnt out. You were scared that she was going to fall into a depressive state without him, but it was a miracle that she managed to fight against it and try to live her life, even when her Mate had been taken away.
A part of you wanted to believe that, if for some reason you lost Namjoon, you’d be able to continue living. Deep down however, you knew how easy it would be slip under the covers and not care, and not know that the days were blending together.
It did surprise you how easily she had mentioned Sue though. “Have you heard much from her?”
The smile on her face flickered, and you thought that maybe you had made a mistake.
“No. Actually, Hoseok’s been the one to talk to her when it came to scheduling a time to go over and pack his stuff.” Her fingers tightened around a hardcover and somewhere in the store, the clock chimed at the half hour. “I’m trying, but…it’s going to be a long time.”
Reaching over, you gently squeezed her shoulder as her words died out, not needing an explanation for how she felt. You knew what she meant and if you were being honest, if someone had done the same to you and Namjoon, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forgive them.
It was as she was taking a deep breath that Sarah tapped the book and snapped her finger at you, drawing a grin out of you. “Since you’re on vacation, you can give these to Namjoon to look at.”
She hurried to the desk, leaving you to take your time as you stood up, lower back popping as you joined her. By the time you leaned on the wooden desk, Sarah had a stack of six hardcovers waiting for you. The pages were yellowed and upon opening the top one, the musty smell of an aged book greeted you. While you loved to read as well, you didn’t get overly excited over the famous book smell that you knew Namjoon and Sarah died for.
“I found them at this flea market Hoseok and I went to,” Sarah explained, opening up another one. The text was small and centered, and as you took a closer look, you realized that they were books of poetry.
“How much for them?” You asked, turning your purse to pull out your wallet.
Sarah waved her fingers though, lightly slapping your hand when you still tried to take it out. “Don’t worry about it. They’re a gift.”
“Are you sure?”
“If you do not accept these on Namjoon’s half, I will pick up the phone and call your Grandmother right now Missy,” Sarah playfully threatened, her smile about ready to break her face in half.
For a moment, there was silence in the little shop, but it didn’t last long as you both broke out in laughter. Even as you agreed and she bagged them up for you, you slipped a few dollars in the little donation jar that her boss insisted be put out.
“Now, why don’t you head home,” Sarah suggested, walking around the desk, and hugged you. “Steal a nap before Namjoon comes home tonight.”
“He’s probably going to be working until midnight again,” you said, accepting the bag.
But Sarah smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows in a way that sent you into a fit of giggles. “Not unless you call him and tell him that you need him.”
“You are just as bad as my Grandmother,” you teased, walking towards the door.
Sarah just laughed as you headed outside, shaking your head in amusement. You knew that they meant well, but it was starting to worry you that everyone seemed to be concerned about your sex life with Namjoon, or apparently, the lack of one.
It wasn’t as if you didn’t have one – Namjoon had his heats like every other Hybrid – with everything that’s been going on, there just hadn’t been time to relax and get in the mood. You knew that Sarah was still relatively newly mated to Hoseok, so it wouldn’t surprise you if they were going at it whenever the desire struck.
But as you got into the car, the books for Namjoon carefully sitting on the passenger seat, you weren’t able to stop thinking about it. It felt like forever since Namjoon indicated that he wanted more than a few kisses or a few minutes of cuddling.
Again, despite knowing his love for you, your mind wandered to the other place, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual. He hadn’t always had to stay so late, so why had things changed so suddenly?
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cherrychonk · 3 years
Text
The Transfer Part 2:
Lin’s POV
She was late, the sleeping tea Kya had given her knocked her out real good and now she was rushing to the station. From all the days to be late, it had to be the day the transfer was arriving. This wasn't the first impression she wanted to give. She managed to get to the station just fifteen minutes late. Rushing to the front desk she threw some paperwork before speaking.
“Jia, is the transfer already here?”
The girl looked at the clock. “She's been here for about forty minutes. Got here before her shift even started.”
Lin groaned. “How was she?” At least you were responsible, you started on a good note.
“She's dreamy and also charming.” Jia mused over you with dreamy eyes.
Lin rolled her own in annoyance. “I need important details like her name Jia, and stop flirting with the newbie.”
“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N, her documents say she's from Ba Sing Se’s middle ring police department. Chief’s Lei Ba firebender unit.”
Lin nodded. “I’ll get the rest from her.”
The chief walked towards the elevator and out to the top floor. Where she stood she could see you from behind, your long back hair softly braided. She walked by you towards her office unlocking it and looking back to see you staring at her. Weird kid.
“Y/N my office now.” She said walking in.
When Lin sat down she was already annoyed at your talkative behavior. She could see the paperwork you were holding and she extended her hand to take it. For some ungodly reason you took her hand, firmly. You didn't even shake it, just took it. Lin had so many emotions going through her head. Confusion, uneasiness, annoyance, anger and a bit uncomfortable.
“Soft.”
Lin snapped her hand back. Who the hell is this little shit?!
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOIG?!” Lin already disliked you very much.
Your cheeks had gone deep red as your body tensed, The Chief could see the terror written on your face.
“CHIEF YOU EXTENDED YOUR HAND-”
Is this kid brain dead or something?!
“THE DOCUMENTS YOU IDIOT!” Lin wanted to smack you in the face, you were dumber than a rock.
You froze and Lin snatched the paperwork not waiting any longer. The hell is wrong with her. Isn't she supposed to be the best at her job? Rookies. She stared at the document, reading only the important information.
“What was your division back in Ba Sing Se?”
“Undercover and special forces, Chief”
Lin flipped the page to the next one. She could see a few notes her previous boss had left for her.
‘Officer Y/N Y/L/N
Element: Fire
Age: 25
Nationality: United Republic of Nations
Abilities: Fire and lighting bending, good swordsmanship, able to work under pressure, quick learner.
Injuries: None
Disabilities: None-’
Lin kept reading more descriptions on your job and the things you did in Ba Sing Se. Your previous boss had given you a wonderful recommendation letter and was probably the only thing keeping you there at the moment.
“Not bad, not remarkable either.” Lin sighed internally. She would give you at least one chance to redeem yourself and not make a fool again.
“We have a few rules we do- LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING Y/N.” What the hell is she looking at?!
Lin explained the three capital rules keeping her eyes glued to yours. It was an intimidation tactic that she enjoyed very much, it helped her see who had backbone and who didn't. You? You were confusing to her. You looked petrified but also confident at the same time. An absolute idiot in her words, and after everything was said she sent you off.
“Get the hell out of my office.”
Lin starred as you walked out of her office not daring to look back. The officers were going to chew on their new toy, probably embarrassing her even more but it wasn't Lin’s concern. The Chief just sat and waited for the office to renew their chatter and noise before continuing reading the paperwork you left her.
Idiot. She thought. But she couldn't help massaging her hands together as a blush covered her own cheeks. They were indeed soft.
______________
You groaned letting your head fall on the coffee table. Jia decided she had to take you out of the office at lunch time, keeping you far from the officers that were making fun of you.
“I'm never going to live this down.” You felt like crying.
“Don't worry, new rookies will arrive and soon someone will do something far more stupid.” The woman spoke as she ate her food.
“I GRABBED HER HAND!” You yelled punching the table. “DIDN'T EVEN SHAKE IT! I JUST-” You remake the movement.
Jia laughed. “Relax Y/N, just don't do anything stupid for no on and she'll forget it. It's not like she's going to replay the same thing over and over again. You did something stupid once, i'll pass.” She said nonchalantly.
The waitress arrived with your food settling down on your side.
“Eat Y/N, you don't get breaks.”
Taking her advice you start eating. You find Jia’s company as a big relief. She talked about life in the city and the things going on around it. After forty minutes you already knew all the gossip in the city and celebrity drama.
“Do you know what the Chief would like? I want to give her an apology pastry.”
“Black coffee with a glaze donut.” Jia responded as she finished her drink.
“Noted!” I got up and ordered, making sure they placed it in a nice little box. “Okay, you were saying something about Zhu li and Varrick?”
“Oh yes! Well like I was saying-” She started as you both exited the cafe.
“-And then the Avatar came out and it turns out she is dating Asami Sato! The engineer and CEO of Future Industries.” Jia said as you both stepped into the station.
“That's so cool.” You respond as you watch the clock. It's time to head back, Jia waves and you return it. “See ya later!”
Both of you part ways and you head to the elevator. As you walked holding the box, the Chief steps next to you. You were trying to muster the courage to give her the box but couldn't find it. You decide that the floor is fascinating and keep your attention on the noise the door opening would make. Her boots catch your eyes as you slowly trail up your gaze, you inspect her armor until it reaches her neck. From the corner of your eye you see her face, she's staring at the door so you stare some more. Then she looks directly at you, a terrifying stare that maybe lasted less than a second as you snapped your eyes towards the door.
“It's disrespectful to stare, officer Y/N.” She says sternly.
“M-My apologies chief. I- I” You studder. Fuck!
“If you used your mouth less you wouldn't get yourself into uncomfortable situations.”
“Actually my mouth has gotten me out of uncomfortable situations.” You shoot back.
She looks at you with a frown and rolls her eyes.
“J-Just not at the moment.” You speak nervously.
She looks down at the small box and you decide it's now or never.
“Chief I- Well- You know- I- '' You stutter, making things worse.
“For crying out loud, spit it out!” She barks.
You thrust the box to her hands, she stumbles lightly, a soft confused look on her face. “THIS IS FOR YOU- AN APOLOGY MA'AM! I'M SORRY FOR BEING AWKWARD, YOU ARE JUST VERY INTIMIDATING.” Your face was redder than a flame and hotter than one.
With that the door rang and you ran out without giving her a chance to say anything, good or bad. You ran to the bathroom and stayed for a few minutes until you felt it was safe to come out again. Walking back to your desk you continue working. Maybe I can fix this, you thought.
___________________
Mako was assigned to be your partner. The guy wasn't so bad, just moody like a teenager. He liked to act like a tough guy but he was also kind to people. The chief had ordered for him to take you on patrol so you could see the city and get used to it.
“Down that street is the entrance to a few gang lands, you don't want to go there alone.” He said as you two passed through a neighborhood. The rest of the ride was silent as they kept driving around.
“Hey Mako, can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Is the Chief always that rough and intimidating? Like, is that her real self or like a persona?”
Mako chuckled. “You'll have to find out. As long as you follow orders and don't barge into her office things will go smoothly.”
You nood and start talking about gangs and wars. The topic of the avatar came out and you found out Mako had dated both Asami and Korra. The conversation drifted to past relationships and you disclosed your past experiences, Mako relaxed and opened up about liking both men and women but not wanting to be out.
“No judgement here. It looked like you needed to tell someone.” You said softly and finally you saw him smile.
“Thanks. And the Chief isn't always rough, she's actually really kind and has a huge heart. Don't tell her I told you.”
You beamed. “I KNEW IT!” Something in you felt warm and at that moment you promised yourself that you would make her smile or laugh even just once.
He shakes his head. “Time to go back, the next patrol unit will be here in a few minutes.”
The rest of the day went slow, mountains of paperwork and a lot of coffee. Your shift had ended an hour ago but you still had to finish a few documents before heading out, Mako had already left along with everyone else. Glancing at the Chief’s office you could see her light on.
‘Well if Mako isn't here I'll give her the paperwork myself’ You thought as you walked over knocking on the door.
“Come in-” Her irritated voice boomed.
You walked in with your work and placed it on her desk. “Just finished this, didn't want to leave it for tomorrow.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What? You want an award or something?”
You couldn't help but smile, this was just her facade. “Just doing my job. See you tomorrow Chief.” You started to walk out.
“Y/N-” She spoke. “Do your job and nothing more. You don't get extra stars for things I didn't ask.”
“I know Chief! Good night.” You wave goodbye and start to head back to your satomobile. Tomorrow would be better.
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beanie-beebo-writes · 3 years
Text
Call for Action
Series Summary: You finally get your dream job, but it comes with a cost.
Warnings: Description of panic attack
Masterlist
Chapter 2
It was a nightmare that set you off the next day. Even though you couldn't remember it, you knew there was no way you could go into work that day, which was a nightmare in itself. Your second day on the job and your anxiety already had to butt itself in at the worst possible time, of course. 
You tried anyway, knowing how vital your job was to the process of the series being made. You didn't even bother with breakfast, knowing it would upset your stomach even further. You took a cup of coffee to go just in case, fearing if you drank it, the jitters would only add to your anxieties.
On set, everybody was mostly in their places except for a few PAs as always. You had forgotten to check your phone, so you went to the front office yet again to pick up another schedule. The day was already turning out to be a wreck and it barely started yet. Thankfully, Paul noticed you weren't in much of a talkative mood and let you be in your thoughts this morning. 
The schedule was even busier today, making your heart drop into your stomach. You knew a panic attack wasn't far, but you didn't have much time. You tried to forget about it as you ran to the stage for today. Your heart was pounding, and no amount of breathing exercises could quell the deep settled anxiety. You knew people were starting to notice, but your thoughts were too loud to pay much attention. 
"Alright, is everyone in their places?" You called aloud, still out of breath.
"Just about, give us less than five!" An A.V tech said from somewhere.
"That's fine." You said.
It gave you a minute to try and control your racing thoughts, if that was even possible. You bent over and held your knees as you tried to control everything bubbling inside you. Great, look at you. Someone definitely noticed that you're acting weird, next thing you know you'll be outcasted and fired. Hell, maybe even blacklisted if you decide to keep up this charade of job to job. Maybe-
A hand to your shoulder rescued you from drowning to the depths of darkness, startling you in the process. You stood up a little too quickly, starting to see dark spots. You blinked them away and looked up at your savior. And of course, it was Jensen.
"Hey I just-" He began before taking in your appearance. "What's wrong?"
You inhaled a deep breath, finding calm in his voice. "It's nothing, just a bad day." You said.
"Are you sure? Because it seems like a bit more than that." He said.
Your thoughts faintly began to start up again. "No, it's okay really. Get to your mark, Jensen." You said, half reassuring yourself and him.
"Alright, just remember what we talked about yesterday." He said.
You nodded and waited until he walked away to pull out a compact mirror, something you kept on yourself for situations like these. Yes everyone had already been likely staring at you when you had a moment, but you didn't want more lingering eyes if your panic attack had screwed up your appearance.
You wanted to roll your eyes in sheer embarrassment. You looked like you had run a mile and you had begun to cry. You thanked yourself that you didn't wear makeup like other higher ups, as you were sure it would be more noticeable. Before anyone could take notice, you set the mirror back down and made your way to the director's chair.
"Alright, everyone set?" You asked aloud.
You got a bunch of affirmative replies before making the decision to call "action" for the scene to start. 
Sam and Dean sat in a motel room, arguing about the aspects of a current case.
"There is no way you're going in on this one solo. Absolutely not." Dean said, throwing his arms up.
"Dean, you said it yourself. Going with two people is just asking for trouble. They'll instantly catch on and it'll blow our cover. I understand needing backup but.. I got this." Sam replied.
"For the last time Sam, no." Dean said.
Interrupting their argument was one of Dean's ringing cell phones; it was Bobby Singer.
"Yeah?" Dean asked.
"Well, I found that information you wanted, turns out they are also killed with silver to the heart." Bobby said on the other line.
"Yeah, that's easy." Dean said sarcastically. "So did you hear about this genius plan of Sam's?"
Bobby sighed tiredly. "What now?" 
"He wants to go in under cover, but when guns go blazing, no backup." Dean said animatedly.
"Well, he may have a good point you know." Bobby said.
"Excuse me? Bobby, that's suicide!" Dean argued.
"You watch your tone with me, boy." Bobby said. "You said the place is like an underground bar, right?"
"Yeah but-" Dean began.
"And that means he already is going to stick out like a sore thumb. Two of you would mean you're dead meat. He only needs the alpha and the rest will scatter. Now which plan sounds like suicide again?" Bobby asked.
Dean was silent, knowing there was no use arguing with the aged hunter.
"That's what I thought. You can stand by, just give him a lot of space outside the building. Got it?" Bobby said.
"Yeah Bobby." Dean said defeatedly.
"Good. Let me know how it goes." Bobby said.
"We will, talk to you later." Dean said.
"Bye, and be safe ya idjits." Bobby said, ending the call.
And then everything was quiet, too quiet. You felt a nudge from next to you bring you back to the modern world.
"And scene!" You called out, cheeks tinged slightly pink. "Sorry guys, got swept away there."
"You're good, we can just cut it later in editing." Bob Singer said, standing up from his chair.
"Cool. Alright everyone, settle for a minute and then we'll start scene 26." You called out to the stage.
--------
Before you knew it, lunchtime had rolled around again. This time though, you made the move to sit by Jensen and Jared, who had beat you to the table first. They were in a light conversation before you asked to sit with them.
"Of course (Y/N)." Jared had said.
They were currently talking about some sports team that you didn't follow; you listened in and tried to understand where you could.
"Who's your favorite team?" Jared asked.
"Oh, I don't really follow sports, it isn't really my thing." You admitted.
"Aw really? Bummer, another one." Jared teased.
"Hey, knock it off." Jensen said lightly.
"No, it's okay, I know he's only joking." You said, smiling at Jared.
"Okay, just checking." Jensen said with a wink.
Your heart flipped sideways and missed a beat. If you didn't have anxiety, you would have never distinguished the feelings you were starting to feel towards Jensen. Your feelings with crushes were always different from your anxiety, and yet so similar at the same time. Sometimes you wondered how you could tell the difference.
You still remembered the first time you had a crush. You were a late bloomer, so it didn't happen until 7th grade. You were so confused; anxiety was always something you were used to that when you were hit with all of these feel-good endorphins along with the anxieties, you threw up. Literally, in front of half of the grade and your crush, Nathan Sullivan. You had bumped into him in the middle of your moving-up ceremony in the middle-school hallway. You had wanted to say everything and nothing all at once, and ironically your brain chose to vomit instead. Now that you thought about it, you wondered that's where some of your current anxieties began.
With Jensen, it wasn't that different in a sense. You felt all of the bubbling emotions, the confusing anxieties telling you to either go for it or stay low. But you were past that for the most part. Or maybe it was the fact that Jensen made you feel safe, unlike the other guys. There was just something about him that you couldn't quite understand.
"Hey, have you guys ever dealt with anxiety?" You asked as the conversation headed to a lull.
Jensen swallowed his food before answering. "Actually yeah. About a few years back, maybe even longer, I had this huge fear of what others thought of me."
"Really?" You asked.
"Mhm, anything done on set or stage that was seen as funny to everyone else, was actually a huge anxiety factor for me. I was beyond embarrassed and hated being the one everyone laughed at, even if it was literally for comedy." Jensen explained.
"Oh wow, I never knew it was that bad." Jared said.
"I was too embarrassed to tell you at the time, honestly." Jensen admitted.
"I actually deal with anxiety sometimes too, just not as bad as Jensen." Jared said.
"What helps you guys through it?" You asked.
"Honestly? For me it was therapy, lots of it." He said with a chuckle. "But the main thing I keep with me all the time, is to remember that most people are more likely to be absorbed in their thoughts, than they are paying attention to you or me. At the end of the day, what you do may not even matter to them at the dinner table. And if it does, it does." 
"Wow, that's some good advice." You said.
"Thank my therapist for that one." He said.
"I use a lot of deep breathing techniques, it tends to quell a lot of things for me." Jared said.
"Why you ask? Something on your mind?" Jensen asked.
"No, just curious. My one friend back home deals with this kind of stuff and I figured it would help to know." You stretched a bit. 
"Ah." Jensen said.
"Well, send her some love from us, okay?" Jared asked.
"Of course." You said, finishing up your lunch.
A beat of silence surrounded the three of you.
"Hey, are you busy later?" Jensen asked. "I know you're technically my boss and all.."
You looked up from your food and almost choked. Was Jensen asking you of all people, on a date? This had to be a misunderstanding. Yet again, Jared was practically all over Jensen, just by looking at him with his head in his hands.
"Huh? Uh, no, not really. I usually just pass the time by watching netflix or something I guess." You said.
"You want to grab a bite?"
You felt the tips of your ears burn like a hot stove.
"As a… date? Or…?" You asked.
"Depends." 
"On?"
"Well, do you want it to be?" Jared asked.
"Would it even be appropriate? I mean.. Like you said, I'm practically your boss, Jensen." You said.
"Don't see why it wouldn't be. It's not like you're doing any special favors to get me top role or anything." Jensen said with a knowing smile.
You smiled back and lightly rolled your eyes. Oh, this man is definitely going to be something if I date him. How could you say no?
"Yeah true." You said, probably still with a red face. "Sure, let's make it a date then."
"Yessss!" Jared whispered.
He did a silent victory dance on the way to the trash can and shut the trap closed with his hip. He strode proudly all the way back to the stage as if his son had won a competition. Jensen put his hands over his face a moment and exhaled lightly.
"Just ignore him." He said, muffled behind his hands.
"Couldn't if I wanted to." You said with a giggle.
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ahsk1nk · 3 years
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Philautia- James P. March x Reader
a/n: Story idea belongs to @oublierlegarcon​, I hope I did you justice with this. Also this isn’t part 2 to “A Killer NIght”, I am working on that today though.
Summary: James makes you realize that you should be more confident. 
Warning: fem reader!!! smutty (probably the most descriptive smut I have ever written enjoy ;) ) 
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You met James March at the Hotel Cortez. You were Will Drake’s new assistant, and the second you walked through the doors, Mr. March was fascinated by your beauty. James felt like a little boy again with the feeling of butterflies rising every time you walked past him. The night Mr. March first interacted with you, he bought you drink and you two went to his room to have more.
Being James’ girlfriend was nice, he would spoil you with food, gowns, and kisses, although you always refused his gifts because they were far too expensive. James would get upset, and then smother you with more money and presents. But the heavy jewels you woke up with on your neck, shocked you immensely, the beauty of this necklace was far more valuable than any other gift. 
You stood up from the bed that belonged to Mr. March’s room, and looked in the mirror. Admiration lasted for a second before you tried taking it off. “And why would you want to take it off? Does it hurt you? I’ll call the god awful jewelry store and tell them you deserve something better.” You smiled at him once you saw him in the mirror behind you. 
You turned to face him, “No, no, no. It’s absolutely perfect, but I don’t deserve such a gift. Give this to someone who will shine with this on. Not me.” You tried to say it as polite, and loving as possible, but a frown grew on his lips. There was nothing in this world that James didn’t hate more than your view of yourself, the way you were not as confident as you should be. 
“Could you take it off please?” You turned so you were facing the mirror.          Mr. March grabbed your shoulders, and whispered in your ear, “I will take it off, but you will wear it for tonight’s event, and then after so I can fuck you in it.” You bit your lip at his words, and he smirked. 
You returned to the hotel after the day was done, to get ready for Will Drake’s fashion show. You wore your beautiful gown and shoes James got you, and  went to his room so that he could put on the magnificent array of rubies and emeralds. 
He took one look at you, “Maybe we should skip tonight, dear. Have some real fun.” 
“We have to go James, my boss will kill me. “ Once the two of you were ready for the night, you both entered the viewing area. Everyone took notice to your neck, it was an attention seeker. 
“Oh my goodness. I’m jealous of your necklace.” A stranger had walked up to you and you quickly said, “Oh no, this isn’t mine, it belongs to Mr. March.” You could feel his eyes burning into your skin, the rage was boiling, overflowing. 
“You must excuse us, I need to speak to her in private.” He grabbed ahold of the back of your arm and dragged you all the way to a room close to the lobby. “What are you doing?! I have to be there.” He let go of you and grabbed a chair to put in front of the mirror. 
“Undress.” His voice was serious and harsh, giving you chills all over you body. You obeyed silently, afraid to see him like this for the first time. You were completely naked and all that was left on your body was the necklace. You reached behind your neck to un-clasp it off your neck, but Mr. March stopped you and took a seat in the chair.
 “Stand in front of the mirror.” Once again you obeyed, and he looked at you with sinful eyes.
“What is this? What do you want?” You looked at the man in the chair. and he sighed at your question. 
“You don’t understand your beauty, you don’t understand how much you deserve. I want to see you love yourself, touch yourself, and hopefully you will finally get you are perfection.” His words were kind but they cut through you. You began fondling your breast with one hand, and you caressed the side of your body with the other hand. Your eyes were glued to James’, you told yourself this was for his pleasure not yours. 
“Look... at.... yourself.” The authoritative voice made you wetter between your legs. You fingers found your aching cunt, and your eyes focused on your figure. You rubbed your clit in a circular motion, keeping one hand on your nipples, squeezing them because you are very sensitive. Moans filled the room, you tried to keep quiet, remembering there was a crowd a few feet away. Mr. March noticed your caution, “I need you to be loud. Let them hear your beautiful noises.” 
His voice was sending you over the edge, making you scream in pleasure as your fingers grew faster on your clit. You looked at his chest and his breath was unsteady, an erection growing in his pants. 
“Come to me.” You giggled as you went over to his lap and helped him with his buckle, he touched your breasts, ignoring the necklace. Once his cock sprung up hitting his stomach, you tried grabbing it but he held your wrist. “No.” 
He grabbed your hips and pulled them towards himself, you were on top of his dick, you sat down accepting every inch. You moaned his name, and bounced on him causing skin interaction to be loud. Everyone on the other side of the door surely heard you.
James kissed your nipples as you continued to move up and down, He looked at you although your eyes were shut tightly and your mouth hung up. “You are a god. Everything I need is right in front of me. You are far more valuable than than anything in this universe.”
You continued moaning as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. Mr. March grunted louder and louder as he also grew closer to his own orgasm. You both finished, with your mouths wide open. You grabbed his neck and kissed his sweet sweet lips, still being on top of his now softening dick. 
You rested your head on his neck, panting from the exhaustion. 
“You are.... perfection.”
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g-perla · 4 years
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The ACOTAR Series is a Romantic/Gothic Horror Stage and Only Nesta Got the Memo
Not even SJM knows what’s going on.
Ok, this is going to seem off the rails but bear with me.
So I'm a big fan of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (top 5 books and all that jazz) and I was thinking about it because it deals with themes of the Other and the supernatural, Nature as Character, the overlap of the animalistic and human, blurring of established binaries...fun, Romantic shit like that. Interestingly, this overlaps with how SJM illustrates her world and characters a lot of the time, hence why I was considering it while working on my Nesta project. I’ve mentioned before that Nesta really gives me Byronic heroine vibes and that’s a character construct of precisely this literary tradition.
I started thinking about Heathcliff and Cathy and how they're ridiculously extra and just feel the most intense emotions towards each other but also towards literally everything (nothing half-assed ever, this is a Romantic novel after all). I then remembered how so many people ship them, but like in earnest, in a totally aspirational way. It's not a #cursed ship to them at all. It's...romantic to them not Romantic. I even read often that people quote it at their weddings, specifically the infamous "two souls" quote.
Then I had an epiphany. I was like "wait, what if SJM is one of those people?? What if she has the energy of a Cathy/Heathcliff earnest shipper and that's why all her ships are messy??" Because if that is the case, my friends, oh boy oh boy would it explain so much. I will post some sections from Wuthering Heights:
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Doesn’t the acotar series seem like a 1/50 dilution of that energy?? And that is barely a taste of all the spiciness this book has to offer. To illustrate further: SJM gave us the F/eysand suicide pact and the near-death battlefield Nessian scene. One is certainly more outlandish than the other, but both are the result of intense emotions. To that Emily Brontë raises the following: Heathcliff asking the sexton to dig up Cathy’s grave to see what’s up because her ghost has been haunting him since he personally dug up her grave 18 years prior and she has been haunting him ever since. He later demands to be buried in the same exact grave when he dies so they can decompose together. They both married other people though which only adds to the mess. (I am not lying to you the Romantic tradition really gave us these gems lmao. As an aside, Mary Shelley was also a writer of the Romantic tradition and she confessed her love to husband Percy Bysshe Shelley on her mother’s grave. Her mother was liberal feminist icon Mary Wollstonecraft by the way which only makes this even more amazing. Additionally, biographers believe that the Shelleys also had sex there. Talk about Romantic 😉.)
Then I had ANOTHER thought! (Dangerous)
If we read the series from the point of view of just another YA high fantasy things might get a bit boring because the world-building is honestly lazy and the magic system is pretty soft, which isn’t a pre-requisite in high fantasy (The Lord of the Rings has a soft magic system) but it's not the norm and it doesn't pay off in this series. Not to mention that the plot is pretty lackluster and derivative. To add to that the romantic and sexual relationships are questionable in their healthiness and consequently are the source of much argument in the fandom. 
But, dear reader, if we think about the ACOTAR series as being a sort of thematic and ideological 21st century YA homage to the Romantic tradition of the 19th century (within which Gothic Horror also lives), things get REALLY, REALLY SPICY.
No longer do we just have a romance fantasy with messy, hyper-emotional, animalistic characters who constantly partake in morally grey situations rife with dubious dynamics. No longer does plot really matter. No longer do we require quasi-scientific descriptions of the world and the magical system. No! All that matters now are the characters and the mood. Now we have potential! Add a lot of Nature ambiance: expanses of dark woods, great mountains, the unknowable and sublime energy of the ocean, a violent rainstorm/hurricane/tsunami, an impending snowstorm whose intensity reflects the growing emotional intensity of the characters as the story goes along (I’m looking at you impending snowstorm in acofas that curiously matches the growing complexity of Nesta’s emotional state). Blur the lines between any imaginable category: life and death, human and animal, known and unknown, Self and Other, beautiful and monstrous, good and evil, masculine and feminine, the list goes on. Most importantly make your readers uncomfortable by frustrating their desires to sort things into easy binary categories and don’t apologise for making them question their assumptions about the world, morality, gender, and any other kind of previously constructed Order. 
Basically write the story with Dionysus-in-a-Greek-tragedy energy and bring to us mere mortals artful Chaos.
Once that is done we can have a literal Romantic/Gothic Horror story.  The Acotar series could have been this unapologetically, with the added element of being told through the eyes of the "Cathy" character instead of through the lens of a third person getting second-hand accounts about what went on. This whole series is honestly enough of a chaotic mess of Byronic-like heroes and heroines and cursed familial relationships that it could have been that. That alone is peak entertainment. The problem, however, and the main reason why I can’t really say that this series truly delivered this wackiness is that SJM committed the act of not fully committing to the bit (very un-Romantic of her, I know). Now, I am not saying that SJM actually intended this. I’m just saying it really could have accidentally been this genius with some tweaks. Unfortunately, she made the crucial mistake of trying to justify too much, trying to make things too neat, too tidy, too sensical (in other words: the reason we really can’t have nice things). 
I could end this here, lamenting the potential of what SJM had set-up for us were it not for one element, one gift:
Nesta 
OHOHOHO DO THINGS GET GOOD HERE SO BUCKLE UP
Most of the characters refuse to fully commit to the bit in their desire to satisfy modern sensibilities, by which I of course mean they want ridiculous things like political power, to conquer lands, to be a Girl Boss, to get married, have kids, celebrate holidays, converse about mundane things, be relatable, etc. You know, pretty pedestrian stuff that only requires a bit of genetic luck, a sprinkle of energy, and the right circumstances within the world of Acotar. I would like to reiterate the beginning of this paragraph: most of the characters. 
Let’s say you’re stubborn and you decide to still read the series through the lens of the Romantic/Gothic tradition, what happens then? 
The most hilarious thing (for the Nesta stans that is. The antis would probably hate this)
Nesta, based on what we know about her through Feyre and the limited amount of other scenes, is the only character who really takes the performance seriously. She's the only one that SJM hasn't managed to confine through justification. Nesta just shows up and simply refuses to make sense (her POWER what a queen 👑). She is endlessly fascinating because she just exists in her world on her terms, established categories be damned, and in this manner she frustrates not only the sensibilities of the characters in the stories but those of the reader as well. This double duty is, I suggest, the result of the other characters not fully inhabiting the nebulous world of Romantic characters and thus being a little too plausible and understandable even if they are not justifiable. 
Ok, you may say, but I relate so much to Nesta. I do understand her. I don’t justify all of her actions, but I understand where she is coming from. (You’re not alone, friend. I like to think these things too. Alas, we are but plebs).
To that I reply; Nesta does things, certainly, and we can spend hours trying to explain through extrapolation, educated guesses, and personal experience why she did those things, but the fact is we really don't know why. We are never explicitly told. Our insight into who she is and her motivations comes predominantly from the understanding of her youngest sister and from our own interpretation of the actions she takes. I must make clear that our own interpretations are rooted in pre-established assumptions about what is sensical and orderly in our own world and in our own lives. We cannot interpret with the tools available to us that which may be, by definition, unfathomable. It is simply paradoxical. Nesta, as we currently know her, is a construct derived from a limited number of scenes and our interpretations and projections of these scenes. Even the scenes where we get third person narration don’t explicitly tell us her motivations and her logic. For all we know there really is no comprehensible reason for her actions and that is endlessly amusing to me in how utterly Romantic it is. Acosf may and likely will change this of course, but as it stands, Nesta is a whole Romantic character. Her divisiveness in fandom and in the narrative could be due in part to her refusal to fit the discrete categories available in her world and ours. 
Isn’t that wonderful?
To illustrate this a bit more I will share some details SJM gives us about her/ elements she sets up that fit in with the characteristics of the Romantic tradition (these are not exhaustive by any means):
The absolute pettiness (and extra-ness) of being so angry at her father’s inaction that she is willing to starve to death to see if he does something.
How in Acowae she is described as shifting between emotions as if she were changing clothes and feeling everything too strongly (probably to the point of destruction)
She is constantly being compared to animals, even when she is still human. Granted, SJM compares everyone to animals, but that strengthens the blurring of lines between usually discrete categories. It is still most powerful when used as a comparison when she is human because it dehumanises Nesta.
Often, SJM describes her characters as forces. Forces of nature, for example. Acofas is full of details like this in relation to Nesta. There is a storm brewing leading up to the solstice party and it is in full swing when she arrives at the townhouse. The language used there suggests that Nesta herself may be the storm (against the onslaught of Nesta). It really adds to the Maleficent energy tbh.
She is often associated with death post her transformation
She is Other even to Others. She was Made like Elain, Feyre, and Amren in a sense, but the process of her specific transformation differentiates her greatly from the others. As it is, she doesn’t fit in anywhere
Her intense attachment to her femininity and its expression are at odds with the ideas and assumptions about the performance of womanhood and a woman’s role in her world and even in ours. She is unapologetically feminine in her physical presentation, but her character, her thoughts, and possibly even desires transgress the unwritten rules of acceptable femininity (unfortunately there still are abject expressions of femininity in our ‘”progressive” mileux
She displays in many of her actions a disrespect towards authority and to the status quo. This is particularly notable when her intensely polarised sense of right and wrong is aggravated.
Her self-destructiveness. This is referred to most strongly in Acofas, but I would say she was remarkably blasé about self-preservation in Acowar as well
She is described as intelligent, cunning, ruthless, attractive, and prone to debilitating extremes of emotionality. All of these are characteristics of Byronic heroes, a subtype of the Romantic hero
Here are a bunch of quotes that touch on many of the elements that I have discussed above:
“I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn’t stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory...Who had shrouded the loss of our Mother, then our downfall, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she had cared--beneath it she had cared, and perhaps loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally.” 
--Acotar, emphasis mine, note the strong emotions. This is a recurring element for Nesta.
“Cassian’s face went almost feral. A wolf who had been circling a doe...Only to find a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.” 
--Acomaf, animal comparison
“Nesta is different from most people,” I explained. “She comes across as rigid and vicious, but I think it’s a wall. A shield--like the ones Rhys has in his mind.” “Against what?” “Feeling. I think Nesta feels everything--sees too much; sees and feels it all. And she burns with it. Keeping that wall up helps from being overwhelmed, from caring too greatly.”
--Acomaf, emphasis mine
“I knew that she was different [...] Nesta was different [...] as if the Cauldron in making her...had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking the Cauldron with her.”
--Acomaf, Nesta had her own plans for the Cauldron what a queen
“Something great and terrible.”
--Acowar, referring to her eyes. Oooh, spooky Nesta 👻
“The day she was changed, she...I felt something different with her [...] like looking at a house cat and suddenly finding a panther standing there instead.”
--Acowar, a two in one here: difference + animal comparison. Boy does SJM really go heavy when establishing Nesta as Other.
“‘Not in flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones...’ Amren’s remarkable eyes narrowed. ‘But...I see the kernel, girl.’ Amren nodded, more to herself than anyone. ‘You did not fit--the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not fit. And then the path changed.’ A little nod. ‘I know--what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’“
--Acowar, show don’t tell gets thrown out the window here, but it is useful for the present purposes
“What if I tell you that the rock and darkness and sea beyond whispered to me, Lord of Bloodshed? How they shuddered in fear, on that island across the sea. How they trembled when she emerged. She took something--something precious. She ripped it out with her teeth. What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards?
What came out was not what went in [...] How lovely she is, new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter’s sunrise.”
--Acowar, who knew rocks, darkness, and the sea were such gossips, but look how many connections to nature! To be compared to the sea, a significant example of the sublime, is peak Romanticism. If any of you have read Moby Dick, think about what the ocean and the white whale might have represented there and how that might relate to Nesta.
“I think the power is death--death made flesh.”
--Acowar, Feyre referring to the possible nature of Nesta’s power. Alluding to her powers possibly being related to death is quite significant because that is something most of us cannot comprehend, nor can most of the characters. For Nesta, a “reborn” but very much living character to have death associated with her is a strong blurring of the lines. The case of her being labelled a witch is similarly significant as it solidifies the elements of the supernatural while simultaneously comparing her to pretty much the only exclusively female-coded monster in western pop culture. I will touch more on this when I do my study of Nesta through the framework of Barbara Creed’s Monstrous Feminine.
“I am not like the others.”
--Acowar, we love a self-aware queen.
“Nesta took in his broken body, the pain in Cassian’s eyes, and angled her head.
The movement was not human.
Not fae.
Purely animal.
Purely predator.”
--Acowar
There are a lot more details and quotes that support this interpretation, but I didn’t write them all down in my archived notes. This post is obscenely long, however, so even though there is more to be said, I’ll leave it for another day. If you made it this far you really are an MVP and probably love Nesta to a concerning degree like me. Please rest your eyes if you’re actually reading this 😂
I’d love to read about any other takes and thoughts that might have come to your minds after reading this monstrosity,
G
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ryttu3k · 4 years
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Night Road quote text dump, because I've been deluging a friend with quotes and want a place to keep them all.
We're a bit like that, yeah:
They direct you to a hulking Malkavian named Severian, and the sullen giant directs you in turn to Gibberish Mike.
Fortunately, it turns out that "Gibberish" Mike is just Australian.
Practical concerns:
"That's it!" Elena says, leaning over your shoulder. "That's his yacht. Oh, and this is all about him. Very useful." She snaps a picture of the email with her phone, then the two of you get out of there before the technician returns. You head down the elevator and then back to Elena's Datsun.
You're so pleased by how well that went that that it takes you a few minutes to remember you're in Arizona.
"His yacht?" you finally ask.
Fun with bungalow ownership:
After a day of fitful dreams, you throw on your leather jacket and engineer boots and get ready for another night. You step outside to check your Integra. A neighbor parks next door in her Ford Super Duty and gives you a friendly little wave. You've been practicing this. You're ready.
"Howdy, neighbor."
"Howdy!" she responds before heading inside.
Fucking nailed it. You're one of them.
This is legitimately how I got the Messy Critical achievement:
You grab a hoe.
You rip through the underbrush with savage efficiency, staying a few steps ahead of the pushcart as Julian scans. You work in a trance, chopping and hammering. Only when you hear Julian shouting do you realize that you're holding a busted length of wood.
The head of your hoe is buried in the beautiful round black door of Prince Lettow's Rolls-Royce.
Raúlblocked:
You head to Raúl's place, but he's not there. You find a note hidden above the door that reads, "Problems in Phoenix. (Jesus Christ has returned? Stole a car?) Contact me right away for major jobs and I'll come back. Already missing you." And there's a ProtonMail address with some of the security contact codes you agreed upon earlier.
But it looks like Raúl will be occupied dealing with the Lord and His automotive crimes, and he won't be able to wander around Tucson with you.
Pattermuster doesn't get paid enough:
"Hello? What? Well, the blood can't be 'everywhere.' Surely that's an exagger—okay—okay, fine. Okay. Okay, I'll get—okay. Five minutes. What? No, Sissy Spacek. No, Sissy—you're thinking of Rosemary's Baby. No, Carrie had the prom scene. With all the pig's—yes, it was Sissy Spacek, I'm sure. That much blood? Jesus. Okay, hold—five—okay, five minutes."
Valid question:
Do they teach ax fighting at Quantico?
Julian Meyer:
"Man, it's been a while," Julian says, leaning against your door frame. "I remember the nights we spent keeping that elder asleep with offerings of blood, the days curled up together in the desert. Wasn't it romantic?"
"That never happened, Julian. You made up our relationship and tried to sell it as a novel until the old Prince of Tucson threatened to execute you." '
"Vampire romance was big at the time," Julian says with a shrug. "And I changed our names. I still don't know why no one wanted to buy it."
Dammit I thought I was done with uni:
"Awful," Dr. Caul says with a little shudder. "But now your real studies can begin."
Your real studies consist of a syllabus (thirty pages) and a trunk full of books (35,000 pages).
"Are you disappointed, Rook?" she says with a little laugh. "Were you expecting something more mystical? A bolt of cosmic enlightenment? A conversation with your Holy Guardian Angel, who would reveal the answers you seek?" She bangs the trunk as technicians get ready to load it into your car. "Get reading."
An enthusiastic boss:
You reunite with Pattermuster down in the morgue, where he's pumping his fists as a thin-blood on a gaming laptop watches with a worried expression because she can't tell if he's incredibly happy or insanely mad.
"Rook!" Pattermuster shouts, his eyes full of Blood, "you did it! You brilliant child, you did it! We're safe. Oh, thank God, we're safe." He pulls you into an embrace, then punches a brick wall because he's so happy, showering all three of you in dust.
I thought that was Finland?:
You catch all sorts of whispered gossip as you cross the rooftop garden.
"Camp Scheffler?"
"Gone. That Outlander courier had something to do with it."
"I heard the Russians helped the SI burn it down."
"That's ridiculous. There's no such thing as Russians."
Pot, kettle:
"Julian," the Eagle Prince says, "you will locate Reremouse with the equipment Vane brought. Once we find him, we will strike shortly before dawn. I have prepared a stake sufficient to pierce even his old hide."
"That easy, huh?" Julian says.
"No, but—"
"Your plan is ridiculous, convoluted, and dangerous," Julian says.
"And you have a better one?"
"Absolutely," Julian says. "We use Stonehenge to teleport him to Mesopotamia."
The must-have appliance:
He's a black outline in the glow of a single yellow bulb... and then the bats descend.
And then the bats get torn to pieces, because Pattermuster pulls his two katanas out of nothing and turns into an undead Cuisinart for a few seconds.
But aesthetic:
Leave it to a vampire to bring a sword to a gunfight.
It is pretty cool though:
"Oh my God," Julian says. "You're going to use the car engine to fling Prometheus into Reremouse's heart."
"Dammit, Julian, I am not doing this because it's fun. I am scrambling for every advantage I can because we only have one chance to stop Reremouse, and if we fail, the Second Inquisition will descend on us like wolves on a wounded deer."
"It's still cool," Julian mutters.
A e s t h e t i c:
The Camarilla looks unkindly on vampires who dress like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, but what's the point of being dead if you can't look the part?
#JustToreadorThings:
You sleep badly and awaken to an aching and acute Hunger that crowds out other thoughts. But when you approach the Rolls-Royce, you find Lettow and Julian seated on a blanket, evidently in fine spirits. They're holding stainless steel mugs as they watch the last purple streaks fade from the western sky. There's something perfect about the composition before you: the two Kindred in their working clothes with their backs to you, the blue-black clouds, the faraway mesas framing the scene.
"I fear we've lost the Aesthete," Lettow muses. "Luka? Luka!"
It's just good sense:
A lot of keypads use 0911 as an emergency override for police and fire. That doesn't work, but a common default password causes the elevator doors to slide right open.
Change your defaults, people.
They draw the line at 31%:
Not all problems can be solved by putting a brick through a window, but at least 30 percent can.
Descriptive:
That's when your Nissan makes a sound like a bunch of typewriter keys dropped in a blender, and the whole truck lurches to a halt.
Munch munch:
"There are tags attached to all the payroll numbers," you say. "FNMA. PFC. What are they?"
"FNMA?" Antonio says. "That's Fannie Mae. The loan commission. Privatized in 1968. PFC…"
"Pavlodar Fried Chicken," Janet says. "Damn Commies."
Courier what did you do:
When you try to start your Mercedes, it vomits black smoke. That's not good. You kill the engine.
"Pop the hood," Julian says. "I'll get it up and running."
He checks the motor. There's a long pause.
"Did you melt a bunch of cheese in here or something, Vane?"
“I remember crawling out of a Nieuport 20 outside Gibraltar," Prince Lettow says. "The engine looked like that. Of course, ours had been on fire."
"Engine looks like Vane fed a bunch of sardine cans into a paper shredder," Julian says.
Almost!:
So Lettow is cute. I'm going to talk to him and see if he might be interested in a handsome young courier who almost has his own car.
Scientist life:
A beaker of cold coffee on her desk has a pencil in it; she flicks the pencil away and drains the entire beaker, then looks you in the eyes.
Domesticity:
"Wow, Vane," the Banu Haqim says, "did you finally settle down. Where's the wife and kids? Why don't you get me a beer, and we can talk about football and quote some Bible verses at each other?"
I really want to know where the fake werewolf came in:
"...so the whole fucking Cadillac is on fire, and I'm kicking and kicking, trying to get the window to break!" Dove says.
"Right, right, because —" You're trying to follow this story, and it isn't easy.
"Because I'm still handcuffed to the guy who was pretending to be a werewolf, right. And I finally kick through the window, rip half the dead fake werewolf's arm off to get free — I'm out of my fucking mind now, with all the fire — and I finally crawl out of the car."
"And get clear before it — do they blow up?"
"Escalades? I dunno, probably not," Dove says. "But anyway, I'm finally clear, so I run across the parking lot, laughing because I'm just thrilled not to have met final death chained up to that guy. And I barely have time to look up before Lettow comes screaming around the corner in a Ford Bronco with the lights off and runs me over. I was in the wrong Cadillac the whole time."
"No!"
"Two black Cadillac Escalades in the parking lot of the Marriott," Dove says. "How was I supposed to know which one — anyway, that's why I don't get to drive anymore. That's why Lettow wants assholes like you driving."
"Driving what?" you ask. "Because I need a car."
Dove shakes her ugly head. "I'll get you something. Give me a few hours to work on it, and I'll send someone to find you."
Cars are everything:
You still don't know how Julian plans to go from "divert a few funds and data streams from the Camarilla" to "transform the global information panopticon in a way that ends the Masquerade but keeps vampires safe," but he has a nicer car than last time, so he must be doing something right.
Guys please be nice to Raul:
"There appears to be a vampire hunter outside," he says, "investigating your electric vehicle."
"Send your bird to peck his eyes out," Julian says. "I'm not going outside until I find my sneakers."
Cheese?:
Over the next few minutes, you cough up a glorious wad of bullshit involving MKUltra, the Philadelphia Experiment, Star Wars (the movie), Star Wars (the Reagan-era government program), Jackson Pollack's CIA connections, the history of federal cheese, and the secret mastermind behind the seventies gas crunch.
In fairness it's a pretty rare sound:
You're way up in Limberlost, near the mall and the Walmart, when Riga settles on the roof of a Safeway. You reverse into the parking lot in case you need to get out fast and scan the cars at the pumps. It looks quiet. Then you hear a faint ringing.
The sound is musical, hypnotic. It reminds you of your childhood, and for a long time you just sit there in the driver's seat, remembering what it was like to be alive. But what is that sound? What memory from…?
Oh, right.
The pay phone next to the ice merchandiser is ringing.
It's a skill!:
Not every member of Clan Toreador joins their august ranks because of their great beauty or artistic genius. Some people end up vampires because of their extensive knowledge of Adobe After Effects.
Big Pirates of the Caribbean energy:
"I'd kind of like to give Lettow here a horse and a sword and let him tear through an entire police barracks," Julian says. "Tell me that wouldn't be fun."
"One thing I learned from Napoleon," Lettow says, "is that the most powerful cannon is useless if you cannot see your target. We know the location of one small encampment. That isn't enough to start shooting."
"You knew Napoleon?" Julian asks.
"Napoleon was my horse," Lettow says.
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sierraraeck · 3 years
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Return to Normalcy (Pt.1)
BAU x OC Aundreya
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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Summary: Returning to normal has never been so hard. Just as Aundreya is starting to make amends and fit back in with the group, something gets in the way. Story twenty-two.
Category: Angst, but there’s some fluff too
Warnings: Cussing. CM talk. Mentions of death and suicide as a COD. Break-ins.
Word Count: 5.5k
It was odd, how quickly things seemed to go back to ‘normal.’ It was a new sort of normal, like if you’d moved out of your house and years later the new owners invited you over for dinner, but it felt familiar nonetheless.
It seemed to me that we were all more focused on the cases coming in, and while the rest of the team still went out for drinks after a long case, I no longer took part. It didn’t feel right, and above that, I had to get home and prepare for whatever new guest decided to grace me with their presence.
The nice way of saying that people were breaking into my apartment.
It started the Monday I had returned to work with the BAU. Once we got home, my apartment was trashed with a lovely note carved into my bedside table letting me know that this was only going to get worse. I had no motive for them either, but I had three guesses: they were working for DeLeon, they were working for Archer, or they were working for me. If they were working for me, they were probably pissed that I went back to the BAU, or they were clients that held a grudge.
Either way, it didn’t really matter, because if I wasn’t already having trouble sleeping, I definitely was now. I never knew what day, what time, or how many people there’d be. I hate to call it a game, but that was honestly what it’d become. I tried to track their pattern, but they were good, keeping everything very random. I started making bets with myself about the day, time, and number of people, just to keep things interesting.
I walked into work with new bruises and cuts all the time. I tried my best to cover them up, but I wasn’t stupid, and I didn’t believe my teammates were blind. But none of them pushed, they only ever gave me weird looks, which I promptly ignored.
It wasn’t until I was so tired and in pain that I couldn’t do my job correctly.
I was chasing down and unsub, but I couldn’t keep up. He turned a corner and when I followed, ambushed me. We started fighting, but I couldn’t hold my own. Had it not been for Derek following me and shooting him off of me, that man would have strangled me with his bare hands. Only then did Hotch pull me aside.
“Chambers, what is going on with you?” he had those stern, yet caring eyes trained on me.
“Do you want the real version, or the boss version?” I sarcastically asked. He raised his eyebrows slightly. “I’m having trouble sleeping. I wake up every night from nightmares if I’m lucky enough to fall asleep in the first place.”
“Do you expect me to buy that, or do you also fight your furniture in your sleep?” he asked.
“I do expect you to buy that, because it’s true,” I shot back.
“But that’s not everything,” Hotch pointed out.
I shrugged, “It’s close enough.”
“Chambers,” he warned.
“I’m okay,” I assured.
“You almost died today in hand to hand combat. I’ve never seen you even come close to losing to someone in that area. You beat Morgan on a regular, and he’s one of the best fighters I know,” Hotch acknowledged, “What is going on?”
“Hotch, please-”
“I will ask you to take time off if this is not something that can be solved.”
“No!” I barely let him finish, “You cannot confine me to my apartment.”
He gave me a quick once over, and I tried my best to look composed. “I will order you to tell me if things get worse.” I nodded and gave a small ‘thank you’ before walking away.
# # # # # # # # # # # # #
I did everything I could to prepare for the intruders, but it was another long night. I was never sure if they were out to kill me or just scare me, but it usually ended up with me fighting two or three people at the same time. Usually they fled before things got too serious, but I ended up having to drag out a body every now and then.
Last night was no different, fighting two masked people until they decided to leave. The one upside of all the constant fighting after a while, was that it was allowing me to sleep better. I was so exhausted by the time I was done, that I could actually get three or four solid hours of sleep. Ironic how the same problem causing part of my lack of sleep, could also help me sleep.
The one thing different about last night, though, was that I finally got a look at one of their faces, unmasked and alive. It wasn’t much, but it was something to go off of.
I convinced Garcia to help me find someone who was hopefully in the system. I gave her a description; a man in his early thirties, red curly hair, about five foot eleven, scar behind his ear. She pulled up known felons and those in the prison system, but none of them were him. I didn’t want to have to raise suspicion by asking her to do it, but I had to know who was coming after me. So I went out on a limb and asked her to search for people in the Bureau, and those who worked closely with Agent Howard Archer.
And then I saw him. Some new assistant of Archer’s that also happened to work for the MI6 before moving to the US.
I played it off to Penelope, but I now knew who was coming after me. He must have been nearly as pissed as DeLeon was about Xena, and even more so about the fact that I weaseled my way out of charges, out of DeLeon’s grasp (if he knew about that), and all the way back to the BAU.
But I had a plan, one that would grant me more peace, and help keep the BAU team together.
Things just worked out even better than expected when Emily accidentally dropped information to one of the deputies that was helping his son get away with muder. Not like I wanted her to make a mistake, she was already feeling more guilty about it that she needed to, and I did want to be there for her, but it also just so happened to serve a bigger purpose as well.
We boarded the jet on our way home after using a couple extra days to catch the deputy and his son. Emily sat by herself in the back, clearly beating herself up. I saw JJ say something and squeeze her shoulder, but Emily was not having it. I gave her the first half of the trip to wallow, and then made my move.
I approached her seat and went to sit down when she waved me off, “Chambers, I really can’t go through another ‘it’s okay we still got him’ pep talk right now.”
I sat down right next to her and put my feet up on the other seat. I crossed my arms over my chest, mimicking her movement, and said, “Nah, man, I came over here to tell you that you majorly fucked up. Didn’t you hear? If you’re in the FBI and wrongfully trust your fellow law enforcement officers who are supposed to be helping you catch the bad guy, you’re immediately terminated?” She glared at me from the corner of her eye and I smirked, “I’m serious, Emily. If you ever make a mistake and then end up solving the whole case for us like that again, I think we might just have to fire you.”
“You’re hilarious,” she deadpanned.
“No, not really,” I smiled, “I only think I am when I’m massively sleep deprived and my badass coworker makes the coolest unsub takedown of the century.” She rolled her eyes. I looked across the aisle to where JJ was seated and asked, “Come on, JJ. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” JJ absentmindedly sang, not even bothering to look up from her magazine, “It’s not like she launched through the air, tackled him, and rolled on the ground a couple of times before handcuffing him from her position on top, then stood up like it was nothing.”
I shrugged, turning my attention back to Emily, “Ooh! So, does this mean, now that you’re obviously leaving, that I will be the best at the shooting range?”
“Okay, please stop,” Emily finally spoke back up. She still wouldn’t look at me, but I could see the beginning of a smile creeping up on her face.
I lightly poked her in the side, and she finally cracked a smile, looking over at me. “Look, historically I’m not the greatest at giving pep talks, but I’ve fucked up enough time to know the usual bullshit that they entail, and I know that not a single ounce of it is helpful. It’s gonna feel crappy for a while, that’s just how it goes, but trust me when I say that you have a lot more to be proud of than slipping up once in your seven years of being with the FBI. Not to mention that you personally got to kick his ass anyway.”
“Yeah, but,” she shook her head, “next time, things might not end as lucky.”
“God damn it, Emily,” I tsked playfully, “You’re starting to sound like me. And I can tell you with confidence, being me, that I do not recommend that path.”
“I appreciate what you’re saying but-”
“But you don’t want to come out with me and the girls tonight,” I sighed, posing it more like a statement than a question. “I get it.”
JJ perked up at this, and asked, “What is this you’re saying about girls night?”
“Oh, I guess it’s not that exciting. Emily doesn’t seem interested,” I feigned a grimace, reaching into my pocket to produce five ticket.
“What are those?” Emily asked.
I hummed, “I guess I’ll have to sell yours, or refund it or something, you know, since you don’t want to come out with us.”
“Aundreya, I swear to god,” Emily started, reaching for the tickets in my hand. I jerked them back, but Tara yanked one from my grasp.
“Alanis Morissette? Are you for real?” she asked.
“Dead serious,” I grinned.
I turned to Emily whose mouth was agape, “How’d you know? I’ve been trying to see her for years, but we always have a case!”
“Look, we have tonight and then the extended weekend off. I figured we could get some sleep this afternoon, get ready, go out to dinner, and then go to the concert,” I suggested.
“Absolutely!” Emily’s excitement was enough to make all of us smile, “This is amazing. Does Garcia know?”
“Does she ever,” I murmured. “She nearly wrecked the surprise about twelve times already!”
The girls laughed, and the prospect of getting away and doing something fun seemed to put everyone in a much better mood.
# # # # # # # # # # # # #
I woke up on Garcia’s floor completely exhausted. But for once, it was a happy exhaustion. No break ins, no nightmares, just the five of us girls having the night of our lives. I checked the time, and the brightness of my phone blinded my eyes. The time read 9:24, and my head hurt a little, but I knew how to drink. Emily and Tara would be fine by the end of the day, but I wouldn’t be surprised if JJ and Penelope were hungover until the weekend was over.
I started cleaning up the place, trying my best not to make any sound or knock into any bottles. When it felt sufficiently cleaned, and I did everything I thought I could that would be quiet, I went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Emily was the next up, and walked into the kitchen rubbing her eyes and holding an empty tequila bottle. She placed it in the trash, then walked over to where I was flipping pancakes.
“Damn, aren’t you tired?” she asked.
I gave her a look. “I’ve adjusted to the constant pounding in my head.”
“Right,” she rasped, “I forgot. You’ve got that super power that allows you not to be affected by drugs and alcohol and stuff.”
I just nodded. “How was it, though?”
She looked at me confused for a moment, before realizing I was talking about the concert. “Aundreya, it was amazing. I can’t believe you did that for us.”
I shrugged, “I just figured we all needed a break.”
“Amen,” Tara said, finishing the last of her beer before placing the empty bottle on the counter.
“Beer before pancakes?” Emily asked.
“My head already hurts, I don’t think another swig’ll change that,” she pointed out. When the other two woke up, we ate breakfast and finished cleaning Peleope’s apartment. It was the first time since I’d been back that I actually did something with the group, and it was actually really fun. We were all Alanis Morissette fans, so we practically screamed the lyrics all night. Not one of us could talk properly, our vocal chords probably wrecked for eternity.
When we finished up, we all decided to head back to our own places. I dreaded leaving, knowing that there was a 50 percent chance that mine was raided yet again.
I was the last one out, and right as I was about to leave, I felt Penelope’s eyes on me. She’d been acting a little strange around me the entire night, and I was wondering if she was ever going to talk to me about it. I turned around to face her and saw that she was looking at me with very nervous eyes. I offered her a small smile, hoping that she would come out with it on her own.
When she just kept looking at me, shifting her eyes between me and the door, I carefully asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she quickly said, seeming to pull out of her thoughts. “Sorry to keep you. You can head home if you need to.” She rushed over to me and started to open the door but I slightly leaned back on the door so she couldn’t fully pull it open.
“If you want me to leave, I will,” I looked her straight in the eyes, “But if you have something to say, or ask, please do. I don’t want you to be nervous to talk to me.”
She struggled for the right words for a moment before she sighed. “Do you want to sit?” I nodded and followed her to the couch. She took another deep breath before starting, “It’s about your ring of people.”
“Okay…” I invited her to continue.
“Um, Deen, that’s his name right? Deen?” I nodded, “Well, he mentioned something to me about you wanting to recruit me before I got offered a job at the FBI.”
I pressed my lips together with understanding. Of course Deen would slip up when it came to ‘The Black Queen.’ I already knew he had a not so little crush on her, and now that he’d met her, he wouldn’t shut up. “Yeah, I did. You were just starting to get really big around the same time the Cloaks were going under, and I knew you’d be a big asset to our team. Once I had the ring up and running, I made a plan to reach out to you and ask you to join us. It was a bit of a long shot considering you were using your skills to do good and you’d probably think we were on the opposite end of that, but we really wanted you. Well, I really wanted you and Deen was really pushing for it. Honestly, we were only three days out from inviting you in when you got caught. We were hopeful, but when you accepted the job with the FBI we weren’t surprised. Still sad, though,” I admitted.
“So, had I not got caught, or you’d gotten to me a few days earlier, your life could’ve been my life?” she asked, a bit of wonder in her voice.
I joked, “Hopefully not. But you would’ve been in the room with me whenever I was planning something new or we were tracking a client or mole. You probably would’ve been our lead in operations considering you’d have access to all of their information and security cameras we’d need to hack into, not to mention some of our own.”
“That’s… wow,” Penelope stared out the window as if she could see her other life playing out.
“But I think you ended up where you belong,” I smiled at her.
She mirrored my expression and agreed, “Yes. I think you’re right. It would’ve been interesting though, to see how different my life would’ve been.”
“Maybe,” I reminded, “But you might not have even said yes to us to begin with.” She looked deep in thought, understandably. It was a lot to process, especially since she had some idea of my lifestyle and the amount of trouble I got into. But it was still a possibility that she’d never had the opportunity to ponder. “I’ll see you later?”
“Yes. Thank you for last night and, for answering my questions this morning,” she stood up with me as I went to grab my stuff and head out the door.
“If you want to know anything else, just ask,” I smiled.
She nodded and was about to close the door behind me she shyly questioned, “And Deen?”
I grinned from ear to ear. “Great guy, super loyal, funny, and a natural leader and protector. Oh, and super into you.”
She smiled to herself, looking down a little bit, then gave me a wave as she shut the door.
# # # # # # # # # # # # #
When I got back to my place, and saw that the door was already cracked, I sighed. I swung open the door to see that things only continued to get worse.
Sitting there on the couch was Spencer. There was broken glass and knocked over furniture strewn all around, and he was like a rare diamond sitting in the middle of the rubble.
“Aundreya, what is going on?” his voice was soft and concerned, eyes wide.
“Spencer, please-” I tried.
He shook his head and gestured for me to sit down next to him. I swiped off some of the stuffing coming out of a read and sat down. “Please. Please tell me what all of this is. I want to help.”
“You can’t help,” I said.
“Only because you won’t let me,” he pointed out. “You’re coming to work with new bruises all the time, you’re clearly more tired than usual, and your ability to think and physically perform are decreasing.”
I looked down at my hands, spinning the bracelets around my wrist. “People are breaking into my place. It’s completely random but I can fend them off.”
The shock and concern in his eyes grew, “How long has this been going on?”
I purses my lips, “Since I came back.”
“And how many times has this happened?”
I looked around my apartment and shook my head, “I stopped cleaning after four.”
“Aundreya-”
“Don’t say anything,” I pleaded. “If you do, then I’ll have to take time off and leave this place defenseless, or you’ll assign people to stand guard which will likely only get them killed. I’m handling this.”
“You call this,” Spencer gestured to the disaster I called an apartment, “handling it?”
“I’m trying to handle it,” I corrected, “And it’s actually been getting better.”
“I know that’s not true,” he accused.
“Well now I’m too tired for nightmares and can actually get some real, solid sleep, so I’d call that a win,” I snapped. He looked at me hurt, “I didn’t mean to sound like that.”
“My point exactly. You’re too tired to control your emotions. You’re irritable,” he stated.
“I’m okay,” I insisted. I could tell he was not buying it, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want him anywhere near my apartment. Anywhere near me. It would only put him in harms way.
“Is this why you always insisted on going out to meet me instead of going to one of our apartments?” he asked.
We’d been meeting up for food or just walks when neither of us could sleep. He was still dealing with prison, and drugs, and Cat Adams with his mom (which I didn’t know about until I came back), while I was dealing with Xena, and DeLeon, and Agent Archer. We quickly realized that there was no one else to call at 3am in the morning when we couldn’t sleep besides each other.
“That, and I didn’t want to intrude on you and Maeve,” I whispered.
“She actually hasn’t been staying over these past few days,” he murmured. It threw me off guard, so I just stared at him with my head tilted to one side. “Yeah. I don’t blame her though.”
“Wait, it was her decision?” I asked.
“No, well yes,” he stumbled. “I mean, I felt bad constantly being away, and the only time I was here I was waking up with nightmares. She deserves better than that.”
“And you deserve to be with who you want. Don’t push her away because you feel guilty, let her make that decision on her own,” I finished with a yawn.
“God, you need sleep,” he said, effectively dodging my previous statement.
“Yeah, but then who’s gonna protect you if they come back?” I attempted to joke.
He reached down and produced his gun, then flashed the other one around his ankle along with a small dagger. I raised my eyebrows at him. He shrugged, “I think I can hold down the fort for tonight. The team needs you to be rested to chase down our unsubs.”
I laughed, “Yeah, but they need you rested to actually find them in the first place. I can pass the whole chasing them down thing back to Morgan for a while.”
“You’re not going to be able to sleep with me here, are you?” he asked.
I shook my head, “In your defense, I wouldn’t be sleeping if you weren’t here. But now that I know there’s more than just vases in here to protect…”
“Fine. How about we take shifts?” he offered.
“No, you should go and get some real sleep on a bed, not a couch that’s falling apart,” I suggested. He gave me a pointed look, and I knew he wouldn’t be sleeping either now that he knew what was going on. “Fine. Shifts it is.”
He stood up to go shut and lock my door, then came back to sit next to me on the couch. I put my head on his shoulder, and before I knew it, I was out.
# # # # # # # # # # # # #
I woke to the sound of ringing. I looked up to find that somehow, we both ended up asleep on my couch, my head on his chest, curled up in his side. His arm was around me and I wanted to believe that the ringing was just a part of another nightmare, but when it went off again, I sprung up off the couch. I quickly scanned the windows and all the doors, waiting for someone to jump us.
“It’s okay,” Spencer rasped, sitting up, “It’s just our phones.”
I looked down at the coffee table near the couch to see that he was right. “Oh.” I answered mine and walked into the other room while Spencer answered his, cursing myself for being so jumpy in front of him.
It was Penelope, “You need to get here fast. There’s been a death.”
“Be right there,” I answered. I shuffled back into the main room where Spencer was already grabbing his stuff, running his hands through his hair.
“Do you want to ride with me?” I asked.
“Sure,” he replied.
When we arrived at the bullpen, Hotch ushered us up to the round table room, and locked the door behind us.
“Hotch, what is going on?” JJ asked first.
We all looked at him expectantly. “Early this morning, the body of Associate Deputy Director Howard Archer was found in his apartment.” He flashed a picture up on the screen. Archer was hanging from his ceiling fan by his bed sheets. “It has been deemed a suicide, but we’ve been asked to confirm that COD.”
“Why? Is there any evidence of foul play?” Derek asked. I stayed completely silent.
“No.”
“Then what do they need us to investigate for?” Emily prompted.
“His wife swears that he wasn’t suicidal. He had been happier these past couple years, and only recently seemed on edge, but she said he seemed scared, not depressed,” Hotch presented.
“Yeah, but can’t fear and sadness sometimes appear to be similar?” JJ asked.
“Sure, but she claimed he seemed jumpy. Like looking over your shoulder scared,” Rossi answered.
“Chambers, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Derek looked at me.
I shrugged. “It looks like a suicide to me.”
“No more?” Derek pushed.
“Look, Reid, don’t you have some fact about people who subconsciously make stuff up when a loved one dies to cope? It’s like transferring but-”
“There are all different types of memory bias and false memories. Sometimes as a coping mechanism, victims can convince themselves that something different happened, or there were warning signs when there weren’t. Inaccurate recall, especially one of a key eyewitness causes almost-”
“Exactly,” I veered back to the point, “And if there is no evidence of foul play, I’d say we give it a little time and close it.”
“I agree,” JJ backed me, which I found slightly surprising.
“Okay,” Hotch said, “Rossi, take Reid with you to the scene and assure them of our conclusion unless anything else turns up.”
They nodded and left for the scene, while the rest of us went to our respective desks to get a jump start on paperwork.
I was relieved that I had played it off, and so far, it seemed like no one suspected a thing. I mean, I was with the girls for the entire night, or most of it anyway, and would have a clean alibi.
But I did kill him.
When we went out to dinner, I told the girls that I’d left my jacket at home. They all knew how tired I was lately, and didn’t question my forgetfulness. JJ offered me ker keys, which I took, but dropped in Heidi’s pocket. Heidi was one of the girls that I used to dance with, and she and I looked remarkably similar. If she kept her head down and away from cameras, you’d think she was me. I had her drive back to my place to get my jacket while I pickpocketed our waiter for his keys. I drove to Archer’s place, sneaked in through the window of his bedroom, and grabbed the sheets off his bed. I had gloves and shoe covers on, and my hair pulled back, so I was in the clear. I came up from behind him, and strangled him to appear the same way a suicide would. Tying him up to the ceiling fan was the fun part. At least I got to use a ladder I made sure to push over at the end. I then headed back to the restaurant where I grabbed my jacket from Heidi, and took back JJ’s keys. Entering the restaurant, I ‘bumped into’ our waiter to replace his keys, then sat down for dinner and went to the concert.
I didn’t plan on getting questioned, but if it got that far, I knew the girls would vouch for me. I mean, I was with them for the entire night except for the 20 minutes I left to get my jacket.
I was lost in thought, reconfirming to myself that there was no way I would get caught, when Derek viciously called across the room, “Chambers, what the hell?”
I looked and noticed the team and I were the only people left in the room. Rossi and Reid had returned, but I couldn’t figure out what he was so mad about.
“What do you mean what the hell?” I fired back.
“What is this?” Derek demanded, walking over to me and shoving his phone in my face.
It was the recording of me, sitting in the nursing home chair, saying the shittiest things I could think of. And I looked stone cold serious, “I don’t really have to think that much when it comes to that pathetic, riddled with daddy-issues boy. All he really adds to the team is a pretty face and a body that can chase down unsubs. Now that I can do that, I don’t really see his value on the team. I think the team just keeps him around because he’s funny to watch at bars surrounded by women.”
“Shut that off,” I croaked. The rest of the team had circled around me, looking hurt and shocked and betrayed.
“How could you say those things!”
“Derek, I can-” explain. But he cut me off before I could speak.
“Do you have any idea-”
“Yes!” I interrupted, “Yes, I know what I said, I know what I did! But if you’d just-”
“Don’t turn this on me,” he shouted back. Unbelievable. He’s not even gonna let me explain. I’m back to ground zero, and they won’t even give me a chance. “Penelope is by herself crying right now because of what you said!”
That was the last straw. “She almost died because of what I didn’t say!” That shut him up long enough so that I could finish, “God, one thing goes wrong and every single one of you flips on me in an instant.”
“I don’t know how you expect us to constantly forgive you for all the things you’ve done.”
“I don’t. Okay, I don’t. Not anymore,” I hissed, “Don’t expect me to do the same for you.” I shoved the last bit of paperwork into my bag and picked it up to leave.
“Do the same?” Derek’s voice was littered with irritation and sarcasm, “What do you have to forgive us for?”
I was almost halfway to the door when I spun on my heels, “Leaving me to rot in prison.”
“Yes, that was a mistake,” Emily jumped in, “But we realized that and came to save you from DeLeon.”
My mouth was agape, “You think that makes up for it? If you wanna play that game, how about this: I saved Spencer’s life that day, and you repaid me by forgetting about me behind bars. I got myself out of that DeLeon situation alive, and not like you’d care, but I got the rest of you out alive too, so don’t try to use finding me and carrying me out of that place as a remedy, because if I wanted to, I could have saved myself the pain and the torture and just let you all die.”
The team was in shock, and I started taking backward steps toward the door again when Derek recovered and spoke up, sounding slightly confused “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”
“You don’t seem interested in anything else I have to say,” I spat.
“Look, we just-” Derek tried, his voice softening a little.
“No! No, I’m done with you constantly turning on me without hearing my side and then expecting me to accept your half-ass apologies. But I’m supposed to be understanding, right? I’m supposed to cut you slack because I’m the problem, right? I’m always the problem, with you, with the team, with every single relationship I’ve ever been in.” I huffed, “With me. I’m always the problem, okay, I get that. I’ve received the message loud and clear.” I continued on my path to the door, and I felt all of their eyes on me. Against my initial intentions to just walk out, I spun around and continued, “Just so you know, those things that I said saved your lives. And I didn’t mean a single word of it.”
“What do you mean saved our lives?” Emily asked.
Then I laughed. For profilers and FBI agents, I was surprised they hadn’t picked up on it. “How do you think he knew where you were and what you were doing, huh? Who did you think shot Penelope?” They still looked at me with empty faces. “He had snipers on you, and it seems I just couldn’t lie well enough when it came to her.” I turned toward the door.
“Chambers-” Emily tried.
I didn’t even turn around when responding, “Have fun at your little outing tonight. I won’t wait up this time.” They always went out after paperwork days, and I finally thought that tonight would be the night I’d join them again. But I was wrong.
Part 2
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ahtohallan-calling · 4 years
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chapter 1 of the food of love is here!
{kristanna / t /modern au / humor and fluff / pride & prejudice inspired}
Legendary food critic Hayden West is known for their scathing reviews of restaurants and wickedly sharp wit. Restaurant owners tremble at the thought of the day the mysterious reviewer will walk through their doors-- never suspecting that Hayden West is, in fact, the redheaded woman with a sketchbook eating a quiet meal alone.
It's an easy enough job for Anna, and she's got her routine down pat, especially with the help of her assistant, Olaf.
And then comes the day she walks into Kristoff Bjorgman's restaurant-- and gets much, much more than she bargained for.
Pencil-- check.
Sketchbook-- check.
Phone, wallet, and keys-- check.
Anna took one last glance at herself in the mirror, smoothing down the navy skirt of her nondescript dress. Her hair, that couldn’t be helped; a wig would stand out even more than the fiery shade of auburn, but she’d pulled it up into a ponytail to keep it mostly out of sight. Simple makeup, plain unbranded shoes-- she appeared entirely unremarkable.
Perfect.
She hummed to herself a little as she locked her apartment and headed towards the stairs. This week’s assignment was easy enough; some new little bistro on the edge of an area that was trendy five years ago. 
She liked the little, unfussy places. It was easier to hide when no one cared if she lingered with her sketchbook, easier to see what she was looking for at places where you could hear what was happening in the kitchen while still watching the manager wander around trying to figure out who Hayden West was. 
The only clue they ever got was the day Hayden would be there; no photos existed of the mysterious restaurant critic, no matter how many times their scathing reviews went viral. “The Gordon Ramsay of newspaper critics,” that was what the Times had called Hayden after a withering review of a seafood place had garnered a hundred thousand retweets for its description of particularly horrible crab cakes that “deserved neither to be called crab nor cake but perhaps a vaguely saltwater scented cement patty that should be patented and marketed as an instantaneously effective weight loss supplement.”
Anna had been particularly proud of that one. It was a rare day when the food was actually bad enough to warrant such a review on its own; the fact that the manager had gotten into a screaming match that reduced a sixteen year old waitress to tears was simply motivation to hold absolutely nothing back. 
She wondered, sometimes, what people would think if they knew the truth: that in fact Hayden had never existed at all and was in fact a twenty-four-year-old woman who’d unexpectedly been promoted into the gig after the man she’d been interning under was unceremoniously given the boot for drunkenly relieving himself on the editor’s lawn, where he had gotten caught by a ferocious Maltese.
The restaurant, thankfully, was only a few blocks away; her car was in desperate need of a replacement everything, but she didn’t have the heart to get rid of it, not when it’d seen her through thick and thin for nearly ten years, from her sixteenth birthday to her college move-ins to her hour long commute to the Tribune’s office for her barely-more-than-unpaid internship. 
It came to a creaky halt in front of the restaurant at ten to noon; she’d have just enough time to get seated without having to wait, but she’d bear witness to the midday lunch rush and its aftermath. The place wasn’t much to look at, though she could tell by the small garden out front and the stenciled outlines on the white-painted brick wall that it wasn’t for lack of effort. It had opened only a month ago, the latest in a long line of valiant attempts to put something interesting on this block. If she remembered correctly, six months ago this space had been a design-your-own-lasagna place (wonderful idea, but impossible to execute efficiently); before that, there had been a sugar-free bakery that had been run out of business in two weeks when it was discovered that the only sugar-free thing it sold was bottled water; and even before that, it had been, like most places that were cursed with a constant “for lease” sign, a Jenny Craig. 
And now it was just BB’s, a name that was so simple it made her worry that this venture would fail like all its predecessors, especially considering its lack of marketing and online presence; she’d had to send her intern to do some scouting for her to even get her hands on a menu in advance.
“This place is great, boss,” Olaf had said through a mouthful of food as he’d called her on his way back to the office. “They’ve even got cheesecake.”
“With--”
“Chocolate sauce, yeah, yeah, I know how you are. I got the menu for you and had the cute waiter circle all his recommendations, and that was top of the list. Well, not literally top, the desserts are all at the--”
“I knew what you meant, Olaf,” she’d said as she rolled her eyes, a fond smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “And thanks.”
Now, Anna found herself hoping he had been right about this place when she pushed the door open, bells jingling overhead; it had been far too long since she’d gotten the chance to write an enthusiastic endorsement of a place that really deserved it. To her surprise, only one other table was taken by two men, one broad-shouldered and blond, the other dark-haired and sporting a wide smile the second he laid eyes on her.
“Hi!” he said brightly, leaping to his feet and wiping his hands on his apron. “Welcome to BB’s! Table for one?”
“Yes, please,” she said, returning his smile after a moment’s confusion; if the place was as good as Olaf had said, why was it this desolate on a Saturday at lunchtime?
“I’m Ryder, and I’ll be taking care of you today,” the waiter said, pulling a chair out for her at a table next to the window. “Let me grab you a menu, okay?”
“Thanks,” Anna said, her focus instead on the other man as he rose to his feet and ambled over to the door that led to the kitchen. He was even taller-- and broader, Jesus but those shoulders-- than she’d realized at first. 
This place must have been an old-fashioned diner once upon a time, judging by the window to the kitchen through which she could still see him. He was handsome, she supposed, if you liked men with strong jaws and broad noses and floppy golden hair.
And brown eyes, she thought, her cheeks turning bright red as he looked up and caught her staring. She jerked her attention away just as Ryder said cheerfully “Here you go!” as he put a laminated menu on the table in front of her. “The soup of the day is minestrone. What would you like to drink?”
“Water, please, and a coffee,” she said, still trying to cover her embarrassment.
“I’ll brew some fresh for you and be right back,” he said, that broad grin still plastered to his face as he bustled back to the kitchen.
Anna fidgeted a little in her seat as she pulled out her sketchbook. The whole point of her job was going unnoticed, but if she was the only customer in the restaurant today-- shit, this could blow her whole cover, considering each restaurant knew in advance that Hayden was coming that day.
For now, though, she had to worry about her notes, and so she began to sketch the interior of the restaurant in the notepad. She was no great artist by any stretch of the imagination, but it was the best way she’d found to remember her thoughts and impressions of a restaurant without having to worry about prying eyes reading over her shoulder. With each detail she drew, she thought of something specific-- friendly waiter as she scribbled the outline of the door, not busy, why? for the back of a chair, clean, good health rating posted for the box of the kitchen window.
And the menu-- she glanced over it as she doodled it. Simple, Italian-American fare; judging by the names-- Cliff’s Favorite, a deep-dish pizza with meatballs, and Ronnie’s Ravioli-- these were family recipes. She couldn’t help but wonder about what the chef’s family was like as she dared to steal another peek at him. He was working on prepping something, his forehead furrowed in concentration, and if she noticed the way his shoulders strained against his white t-shirt as he did so...well, so long as he didn’t catch her looking again, what did it matter?
The bells over the door jingled, startling her, and she turned to see a chattering group of six friends come in. A feeling of relief washed over her; she hated to see places like this go under fast.
Ryder set her coffee down in front of her, winking as he dropped a couple of creamers beside it, before scurrying over to seat the newcomers. She took a sip as her phone buzzed with a text from Olaf.
how is it?
Good so far. Decent coffee. Not many people here, though, can you send some friends?
aye aye, captain. i’ll remind them to do a better job of pretending not to recognize you this time lol
God, it was hard to remember how she’d used to do this without him. When Hans had first been fired and she’d been unceremoniously promoted into his newly vacant position, she’d spent the first few weeks scrambling to find a restaurant that actually deserved the sort of bad review Hayden West was known for. Hans, of course, had never had such scruples, but it felt wrong to Anna to make a mockery of a place and risk running it out of business when it was run by perfectly nice people, even if they did have a watery hollandaise. She’d used to rely on word of mouth and her own scouting expeditions to try and find places that really deserved it, but it wasn’t until she’d found the place with the shitty crab cakes that she’d finally found a manager who was a big enough asshole to deserve every bad review the place got.
The problem, though, was that when the review had gone viral, it had spelled a complete shutdown for the restaurant. After spending two sleepless nights worrying about the impact it’d have on the rest of the staff, Anna had gone for a second visit-- this time ordering a simple salad that still managed to be disgusting-- and pulled one of the waiters aside, asking about the plans the rests of the staff had for a next job.
And, because that had been her lucky day, the waiter had been Olaf, and he’d been just as enthusiastic as she was about helping connect the rest of the staff with new places more than willing to hire them on-- and he didn’t ask any questions about why, exactly, she cared so much. But when Anna had asked what Olaf himself was looking for as a next step, he’d blushed and admitted, “Honestly, I’m on a break from college right now. Journalism major-- not sure if it’s worth finishing, you know?”
Anna had confessed then for the very first time that she was, in fact, the legendary Hayden West-- or at least his successor-- expecting him to react with shock and, if she was being honest, a bit of awe, but instead Olaf had burst into laughter.
“Obviously,” he said, wiping at his eyes. “I saw the way you were looking around the place and heard the questions you were asking. Secret’s safe with me, though.”
She’d called her boss the same day asking to bring him on as a paid intern, and neither of them had looked back since. Olaf had a knack for finding disgruntled waitstaff in the Tri-State area complaining on Twitter and Reddit about their shitty bosses, then following up with them after Hayden’s reviews were published to make sure that they and their coworkers had a better place to work, either because their managers had seen the light or because they had moved on to greener pastures.
One of the tricks they’d developed together was sending in decoys if Anna was ever worried about getting caught. Olaf had a whole network of friends who were more than willing to show up to restaurants at a moment’s notice and eat a meal on the Tribune’s dime. 
Today, though, she needed a certain pair of them to make sure this went smoothly.
Send the two improv kids, she texted back. They’ve got their work cut out for them-- this place is deserted. They have to act extra Hayden-y.
Olaf replied with only a thumbs-up emoji. Anna sighed and sat back in her seat, and a moment later Ryder appeared by her side. “Ready to order?” he asked, wearing another bright smile.
Extra attentive-- she’d add that to the sketch later. “Yeah,” she said, skimming the menu quickly again. Honestly, so far, this place hit every mark of a restaurant worth one of Hayden’s really positive reviews, which, thanks to the column’s usual reputation, went even more viral than the venomous ones-- not every day that a renowned cynic actually liked something.
There was just one more test, the one that elevated a good place to a great one, great enough that she’d come back to on her own time and money and bring her sister along for the ride.
“I’ll just have the spaghetti, please,” she said with her sunniest smile.
Ryder nodded and turned away, whistling to himself, and she glanced up at the clock over his head. 
Five minutes and counting, she thought. Fingers crossed this goes the way I want.
---
a/n: THANK YOU to molly, laura, and melissa for helping me brainstorm and plan this one out!!extra thanks to molly and to johanna for helping me with some of the restaurant stuff, to ronnie for helping me decide what kind of restaurant kristoff would have, and as always, to creative director gabi :')
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Slayer of Slayers
Warnings: I do not own, nor do I claim to own any of the copyright or characters within the Buffyverse which includes but not limited to the television shows Buffy and Angel, as well as the Darkhorse comics series’ continuation. 15+ Strong to moderate violence, Graphic to mild descriptions of gore, and torture, sexually charged scenes, sexual innuendos, mild to strong language, and practices of witchcraft. M/M, F/F, M/F, GEN, OTHER +
PART ONE LINK HERE
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Part Two: Have Faith
Theo walked into his demonic dive bar with Faith by his side eager to introduce the slayer to the place he called home and it was not long before Faith noticed the customers within the dive bar were demons, vampires, and other supernatural creatures, all either looking at her with curiosity or hatred in their eyes while a few even looked at the raven haired slayer with a look of hunger, as if they would ever get a chance to taste her. “Your time working alongside that immortal Mayor was a rather impressive time for you Faith, going head-to-head with Buffy Summers and poisoning her beloved vampire Angelus was nothing short of magnificent but after your boss’ failed ascension you went radio silent,” Theo told Faith as the two of them walked over to the bar counter where Tobias was behind the bar serving drinks to customers. “I heard something about some kind of body swap, a jail stint, and Sunnydale being blown to pieces and then the rumors of course which I hope were just rumors.” “I swap bodies with B then tried to take out Angel again winding up in prison to which I broke out of and have been laying it low making sure my targets wind up dead, so the goodies do not come looking for me again. As for Sunnydale, well I was late for that party which is why I’m so on the ball with this one.” Faith lied to Theo as she quickly noticed the bartender Tobias listening in on their conversation. “So, are you the guy behind this whole slayer or slayers thing? Or is it a whole army? Either way, sign me up.” “I am known by those who fear me as the slayer of slayers, yes, but I rarely work alone. Have not had a slayer on my side before though so this could get interesting.” Theo replied to the slayer, proudly boasting about the evil deeds he committed. “This slayer tells a good story Theo but make sure she is not just selling it on behalf of the one we really want,” Tobias advised Theo, joining the conversation much to Faith’s annoyance. “What’s it got to do with you? The bloodsucking bartender seems to have big balls.” Faith snapped at Tobias. “He’s my partner in every meaning of the word and one day I intend to give up my mortal life so he will remain my partner forever,” Theo revealed to Faith shocking her by showing true warmth towards Tobias before he leaned over the bar and kissed his undead boyfriend. “Let’s just say if I were playing on team B Sunnydale would still be Sunnydale and not a poor man’s Grand Canyon.” Faith boasted, hoping her brag would be enough to convince this duo that she was on their side. “Here’s a thing Faith, I know you were something of a deal back in the day but she’s the slayer nobody forgets that one that defies all odds and changed everything making such a big mess of everything,” Theo responded to Faith making it clear his main target was Buffy Summers. “She’s the girl in all of this world, the one kill that will really mean something.” “I get you that think you’re a big shot because you’ve taken out a few rookie slayers, but B and I have been at this a hell of a lot longer than the others and she has this tendency to come back from the dead on the rare occasion somebody actually gets the better of her.” Faith reminded Theo and Tobias of Buffy’s impressive record. “You have not shown me nothing that proves you would stand a second against Buffy let alone be something of use to me.” “If I’m going to take advice on taking out Buffy, I’m not going to take it from some burned-out slayer who tried, failed, and fell straight into a coma.” Theo taunted the slayer, not convinced he needed or wanted her help. “I’ll admit I was a stupid go-getter back then too stupid for my own good which is exactly what I’m getting from you.” Faith said, mocking the man who claimed to be the slayer of slayers. “I do not care how hot you think your shit is you go up against Buffy with what you got now, and you will die.” “I think I’m going to like this slayer,” Theo told Tobias as the two lovers looked at each other with a sense of excitement on both of their faces, as Faith realized, she may have finally got her in with the
two guys who had been killing all the slayers who had the misfortune of coming to Los Angeles.
After sharing several drinks with Theo and Tobias, Faith had decided to go on a walk with Theo strolling through the dark and dirty alleyways of L.A, knowing that this slayer of slayers had either taken her outside to lure her into a trap, or worse, he was going to try to make her prove her loyalty to his mission by finding another slayer, one that Faith would have to kill. “I’ve never had any issue beating anyone in a fight, the fighting comes pretty easy to me too easy, that is why taking down the big one, Buffy Summers is so important to me, I long for the challenge,” Theo admitted to her as they continued their walk. “Tobias thinks me a fool for not fearing her enough but my hatred for slayers, especially that one is just too strong for me to want to do anything but kill the bitch.” “I get hating on Buffy, but the girls got serious game, The Master, Angelus, The Mayor, are just some of her hits, and let’s not forget that cyborg guy and the freaking god she slew.” Faith replied, reminding Theo of Buffy’s rather impressive track record. “I am very aware of Buffy’s never-ending victories however, to fear anyone who feels the need to go into hiding is somewhat pathetic and it makes me wonder whether or not you have gone soft on me,” Theo revealed as the two stopped walking, and a group of vampires appeared from out of the shadows to absolutely no surprise to Faith. “Hey, if you want me to prove myself by turning your lackies into dust then that is on you dude.” Faith boasted, as she looked around at the vampires marching towards her, knowing that she could take them all, as she wondered if Theo had any power at all or if he was hiding behind his rather lackluster army.
It did not take Faith long to get the better of the vampires who Theo had sent to test out her slayer abilities and once she did exactly what she promised to do, dusting all the vampires, Faith decided to head back to the demonic dive bar to gloat about her victory only to walk into the mostly now empty bar to find Theo and Tobias behind the bar kissing passionately once again. “Do you two ever come up for air or is that a bit pointless considering one of you is dead?” Faith asked as she walked over to the bar counter. “Actually, won’t that make one of you need air even more?” “Those vampires were disposable just like the slayers themselves, however, you do seem to be the exception.” Theo complimented Faith on her victory. “Consider me impressed by you still being alive and looking like you did not so much as break a sweat.” “So, we’re down a bunch of minions and if things went wrong, we would have been down a slayer too,” Tobias complained to Theo, making it clear to Faith that he had not been part of Theo’s ambush. “Some of those guys have been with us for a long time Theo, not to mention another slayer on the side would be a bonus despite what she thinks about her.” “She’s alive, isn’t she? And if they could be taken out that easily then they were of no use to us in the first place.” Theo snapped back at his love appearing to be more soulless than the man next to him, who literally had no soul. “You should have let me in on the plan, I know you like to think you run things around here Theo, but we are meant to be a partnership,” Tobias said with a saddened sigh, shocking Faith by the look of hurt on his face making it clear that this vampire really did have genuine feelings for Theo. “I do not mean to interfere in this lover’s spat but who’s this she who I’m guessing does not think of me too fondly?” Faith asked in an attempt to break some of the awkwardness, as well as learn more about their little operation. “Toby’s vampire mother, he’s a total mummy’s boy never likes straying too far off her path it gets rather tedious to be honest,” Theo told the slayer willingly, making a dig at his partner at the same time. “You know I hate being called Toby. And as for me being a mummy’s boy, I am just smart enough to follow her rules unlike you who seems set on doing whatever the hell you want whenever the hell you want to.” Tobias continued to complain to Theo making his feelings heard. “Babe, you know I love you but sometimes I just got to be me. If I told you my plans, you’d have just talked me out of it and I know she’s got an eye on everything but that does not mean that my plans are not solid either.” Theo replied to his lover in a softer tone. “I just need you to believe in me more sometimes than I would not have to keep anything from you.” “Wow, for two evil guys killing slayers wherever they go that was pretty deep.” Faith told them both, surprised by the clear love between these two men but before either of them could reply to her, two vampires walked into the bar with a woman clearly drugged out, being held by them both, an innocent, making Faith realize they had found their next target. “Did you order takeout?” Theo joked with Tobias, as the two smiled at each other unnerving Faith by the sudden turnaround between these two men. “This is not just some woman boss, it’s a slayer, she took out some of our guys before we got her and delivered her here to you.” One of the vampires confessed. “I guess you picked the right ones for your suicide mission after all,” Tobias admitted as he kissed Theo on the lips. “You know it, babe!” Theo replied with a sense of excitement, as Faith recognized the look on his face, it was a look she knew far too well, a look that meant Theo enjoyed every kill, got off on the darkness as she did once upon a time.
Faith knew that the slayer which Theo and Tobias now held was not going to make it out of there alive if she did not take any action and so when she had the opportunity, she left the dive bar claiming to be ready to hit the sheets but instead, she went to see Angel at the Hyperion Hotel to fill him in on her discoveries while being undercover. “So, I have no clue if this dude has powers or what, but he’s definitely got himself a following and a vampire lover.” Faith confessed to Angel after walking into his office within the Hyperion Hotel. “There is something about him that I cannot quite figure out yet and his whole relationship with that vamp is all kinds of uncomfortable in the sense that they're basically like a married couple.” “Does this mean you’ve found a way of earning their trust or you wound up killing everybody to avoid things getting too cringey?” Angel joked with Faith as he stood up from his chair. “Thing is they’re currently torturing the hell out of another slayer, so we are going to have to stop earning trust and start taking action!” Faith revealed making it clear how urgently the situation had to be handled. “There used to be just one or two of use now there are so many folks are collecting them…then killing them I guess, sure doesn’t help if they’re not being hunted by the forces of evil, we have military operations to contend with too not to mention the supernatural secret being out for all to know,” Angel replied to the slayer, reminiscing about less complicated times. “Listen I do not know if this is a set-up if the girl is even a slayer, but either way we cannot just leave her there for the slaughter, we got to save the girl, slayer or not.” Faith warned Angel, showing how far she had come along since her old days of being the vampire slayer causing all the trouble. “I am game for whatever the plan is, and I’ll get Illyria in on everything, so she’s caught up too, she’s always down for a fight anyway,” Angel told her, making it clear he trusted her completely and it was entirely up to her how she played this one out.
After a quick de-brief with Angel, Faith got herself back together, contacted Theo and Tobias, and decided to return to the dive bar, knowing damn fine that she was either walking into a trap set up by the two or she was about to blow her cover by saving the woman that they were holding hostage. “Who sent you? Was it her?” Theo questioned the slayer that he had tied up to an upside-down table, before throwing a poisonous dart right into her chest, with several poisonous darts already in her body, causing the woman to scream out in pain which was met by laughs from Theo, Tobias, and the others in his bar, as Faith walked into the horrifying scene. “Nobody sent me L.A. is my home.” The girl cried in pain as Faith stood there reluctantly watching Theo throw yet another poisonous dart at the fellow slayer, this one launching itself into her right leg, noticing how the woman’s screams only served to further delight the twisted Theo. “I thought you were going to sleep or something like that?” Tobias said to Faith as he walked over to greet the slayer, while Theo’s focus remained on playing a deadly game of darts with the captured slayer, reveling in her pain. “Theo tends to get a little carried away when he gets a new toy, but the customers love a good show, and it makes him happy.” “I bet they do…you do not seem too on the torture side of things? I’ve done my fair share of torture and I can tell when a guy is not into it.” Faith replied to the vampire bartender as she kept her eye on Theo, who eventually stopped what he was doing and walked over to greet his supposed new ally. “I am more of an old-fashioned vampire, I like to hunt as much as any, but I like my prey to not even know they are being tortured, there is nothing more thrilling to manipulate than one’s mind and blood of the seduced tastes so sweet,” Tobias answered Faith before Theo put his arms around the vampire. “I do love to watch you in your element,” Theo said to Tobias before kissing him on the cheek tenderly. “So, do I get a shot at playing darts or what?” Faith asked rhetorically, not waiting for an answer as she walked over to the bar counter and picked up one of the poisonous darts, noticing they had a smell something that if she had to guess, it would be something acidic. Faith stood there for a moment and looked over at the beaten, bruised, and bloodied slayer, who had been used as a human dartboard by those she was in the bar with, as she began to recall her own methods of torture she inflicted on her former watcher Wesley Wyndham Price, knowing that although he forgave her in the end that she inflicted trauma on him that could never be erased and for a split second she found herself relating to Theo. She knew there was a chance of good in this guy because he was in love and surely evil could not truly love? And she knew there must be something inside of him worth caring about if a soulless vampire loved him back but despite her conflicting feelings towards both Theo and Tobias, she knew more than anything that one way or another they had to be stopped, and so she launched the poisoned dart which was in her hand and threw it in Theo’s direction, only to be left shocked when Theo caught it in his hands in true slayer style, making her wonder if he was actually a slayer, a male slayer. “Damn girl! I guess this means our perfect partnership has come to an end before it ever truly begun.” Theo said to Faith as he threw the poisonous dart to the ground. “Buffy really did break you, didn’t she?” Theo and Tobias began walking towards Faith, as their demonic, and vampire, clientele circled the slayer so she could not escape but just as things were looking outnumbered for Faith, Angel burst through the front door and instantly pulled out stakes from both his sleeves and staked two vampires, distracting the devilish duo by his arrival as their two minions turned to dust. “Angelus,” Theo stated with a sense of excitement, clearly having heard of the vampire with a soul’s impressive history. Angel and Faith wasted no time as they began fighting their way through
the crowd of demons, vampires, and creatures, fighting, staking, and killing, anything in their way to getting Tobias and Theo, the two quickly make an escape from their bar as Tobias dragged a reluctant Theo along with him, despite his pleas to stay and watch the show as the two made it into the alleyway outside of the bar before Theo pushed Tobias’ grip off him, infuriated by Tobias’ escape plans. “Why the hell are we running? We never run away from a fight especially not one including him!” Theo shouted at his vampire lover, infuriated by Tobias’ fear of Angel and Faith. “If we stay then we die Theo, I know you’ve got one hell of an ego, but it is not worth dying for even if you could take Faith there’s no chance, we could take both her and Angelus,” Tobias admitted to him, making it clear they had to run to survive. “I do not care, Tobias! If we lose this fight, then we lose but what a bloody awesome way to go out.” Theo replied making it clear he was more than ready to risk his own life if it meant he’d be challenged in a fight. Before Tobias could argue anymore with Theo, Theo suddenly saw hands appear around the vampire’s neck before his head was torn off his body, turning the vampire to dust, as the goddess Illyria now stood in the ashes of the man Theo loved, leaving the slayers of slayers screaming and sobbing. “You killed him you bitch!” Theo screamed as he launched his right fist across Illyria’s face, punching her with such strength that Illyria had only felt from one species before, slayers. Illyria responded by punching him with all her goddess strength, sending the grieving lover flying across the alleyway, landing in a bunch of rubbish, before quickly getting back on his feet, clearly injured, as he began running away from the blue-haired god with a limp to his run, leaving Illyria amused to see another running scared from her after a single punch. “Humans…you give them a bit of strength and they think they are gods.” Illyria scoffed, mocking the so-called slayer of slayers, having hoped for more of a fight from this male vampire slayer.
“The male is a slayer it seems the first man of his kind.” Illyria declared to Angel and Faith, after the three returned to the Hyperion Hotel, thrilled to have destroyed the slayer of slayers’ operations. “He punches like a slayer but falls like a mortal.” “Except for Billy who is still more an associate to the slayers, the slayer line has never touched upon any males before so why the hell has it changed now?” Faith asked the group, wondering how Theo could even be a slayer. “Willow changed everything when everyone started becoming slayers maybe it’s time for the men to get into the action too.” Angel guessed. “There was something strangely familiar when he called me Angelus…I’ve never met him before, but it felt like he had met me.” “He seems to have a real personal hatred for Buffy the kind you only get from meeting a person but it’s not like we can ask her who Theo is considering she’s been M.I.A since…well we all know.” Faith responded, stopping herself from bringing up the situation that had made Buffy quit slaying, knowing it would only upset Angel. “I say you two stop playing detectives and take on the roles of an executioner. This blood bag has the power of a slayer nothing too impressive, but I sensed a stronger power somewhat dormant for now, so we kill him before whatever power lies within him becomes active.” Illyria informed the two, trying to get them on her side of thinking, that Theo had to die just like Tobias. “We killed one of them…something tells me we’ve already broken Theo.” Faith stated with a sense of sadness, unable not to feel sorry for her fellow slayer who had just lost the love of his life. “You sound like you feel sorry for the guy? Did you not see the state that woman was in when we took her to the hospital?” Angel questioned his friend, before going on to say. “Do you really think he’s worth saving?” Faith wanted to answer yes, that if she could find redemption so could Theo, but this rogue slayer had just lost the only love of his life and she knew they were to blame for that loss, fearing that if they did not put Theo down he would stop at nothing to kill every last one of them, and so she was left with a difficult decision but luckily Angel was there by her side so she did not have to make that decision alone.
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