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willwriteforhugs · 3 years

Text

i wish i’d never met you- choi jongho

boyfriend! jongho x reader - one shot!

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst, pain

synopsis: your idol boyfriend finds out that you’ve been getting hate for dating him, and you’ve been hiding it this whole time. this doesn’t sit well with him...

warnings: death threats, arguing and yelling, cursing

a/n: this hurt so much to write i’m sorry

so i feel i should put a sort of disclaimer- this fic involves the mc receiving some pretty serious threats and hate content, and i just want to say: this sort of behavior is absolutely not okay in real life, or even fiction. i wrote this as a way to express my anger towards fans who act in this way- sending hate and threats to people you don’t know is horrible and completely fucked up. i just don’t want anyone to misunderstand and think i’m condoning this behavior. it’s very destructive, and unfortunately very real.

on a lighter note, i do hope you all appreciate this fic. it was hard but incredibly entertaining to create. thank you for reading <33

- - -

your keys jingled as you struggled to fit your house key into the lock. stupid lock. you jiggled it harder, finally hearing the telltale click. your apartment complex had never gotten around to replacing it, though they said they would.

you sighed as you entered your home. it had been a long day, but you were looking forward to tonight. your boyfriend, jongho, finally had a night off. he'd been so busy lately... of course, you knew this was just how it was. dating an idol was a lot of work, and one of the downsides was the lack of one-on-one time. but jongho was supposed to join you at your small condo in only a few hours. so you kept your head up.

your relationship with ateez's beloved maknae had gone public recently. dispatch had caught you. you can still see the headline: "ateez's jongho spotted out with female office worker- to be or not to be?" jongho had been furious, apologizing profusely. you'd told him it was alright, though. after all, you weren't an idol. this couldn't possibly turn into much of a scandal. you will admit that you had been nervous about the public knowing- but it had been two weeks already, and not much had happened. (well, there was one exception, but you had convinced yourself it wasn't a big deal.)

you had picked up the mail on your way into the building, and you now set it on the counter, ready to filter through it.

you spent the next few minutes sorting the mail into piles. bills. ads. more bills.

then, a letter. your address was scrawled in pencil on the envelope, and there was no return address. you flipped it over, dread beginning to claw up your throat. you peeled the envelope open and pulled out the single sheet within. your hands trembled as you read what was typed:

"bitch. i told you to kill yourself. don't make me do it first. you can't just traipse around dating idols, you fucking whore. who do you think you are? you should be scared, knowing i have your address. kill yourself already. i shouldn't have to ask."

your breath came in shallow gasps. your heart threatened to pound out of your chest. this was the fourth letter you'd received. frantically, you shoved the letter back into it's sleeve, then sank to the ground.

the letters were the exception. you didn't know who was sending them. all you knew is that it was scaring you. you prayed it was a hoax. in fact, you'd been convinced that the first one was. but this was the fourth, and you were no longer thinking this was a joke.

suddenly, your cell phone rang, scaring you so hard you jumped. you stood up and left the room to go get your cell. and for a blissful few hours, the letter was forgotten.

- - -

you were in the bathroom reapplying makeup when you heard him come in.

“jongho-yah!” you called. “i’m back here!”

a moment later, your boyfriend rounded the corner, looking beautiful as ever. his dark hair was in a fluffy, wavy style today, and he was barefaced. you smiled as he came in, wrapping his arms around you from the back.

“y/n-ah.” he mumbled, his face buried in your hair.

you turned your head, hoping for a kiss. “hello.”

he responded by pressing his warm lips to yours. he ended the kiss quickly, pulling away to look you in the eyes. when you didn’t say anything, he did it again, this time lingering. he parted your lips with his own, and let his tongue brush the inside of your mouth.

this time you were the one who pulled away. “woah there, tiger.”

his face flushed. “i’m sorry, i just missed you.”

“i missed you too.”

he smiled and the two of you exited the bathroom, heading back out to the main room.

“are you hungry?” he asked, suggesting buying take-out.

you told him not yet. for a few minutes, the two of you made idle conversation, considering how you were going to spend the evening.

out of the blue, you were overcome with a sudden chill. you shivered, running your hands over your bare arms. “hold on, babe. let me grab a sweatshirt.”

you slipped into your bedroom, seeking out your favorite black hoodie. (stolen from jongho, of course.)

when you emerged from your room, you saw your boyfriend standing at the kitchen counter, mindlessly thumbing through your mail.

your mail.

the letter.

you gasped, rushing to where he was standing. your sudden movement startled him, and he stepped back. frantically, you snatched the envelope off of the surface of the counter.

jongho raised his eyebrows. “what was that?”

“nothing.” you answered too quickly, and his brow furrowed.

“baby, are you okay? where is the letter from?”

“it’s not important.” you snapped, reaching to shove it in the trash. before you could get it in, though, jongho had slipped the letter from your hand.

“jongho!” you yelped. “wait, please-”

but it was too late. he had gotten the letter out, and his eyes were already scanning the page.

a beat passed, the room filling with thick, insufferable silence.

then, finally, he spoke. his voice was low.

“what the fuck is this?”

you squeaked, reaching for the letter again. jongho spun around, grabbing your wrist midair.

“y/n-ah! what the hell is this?!” his voice had risen.

tears threatened to spill over your cheeks. “it’s nothing, nothing! it’s just a joke, i promise-”

he cut you off. “y/n-ah.” your boyfriend’s voice broke. “is this the first?”

your vision blurred.

what were you supposed to say? that it wasn’t? that the letter was only the most recent, but you’d never told him? how do you tell the man you love that you’d been lying to him?

“y/n.” you’d never heard jongho speak with so much emotion. “how. many.”

your voice cracked as you responded. “this is the fourth.”

jongho’s face splintered. “the fourth?” he whispered, his voice foggy. his eyes were unfocused. a beat passed, then; “why wouldn’t you tell me?”

your knees threatened to buckle. you didn’t want him to know for so many reasons. because you loved him. because he loved you. because you didn’t want him to worry. because you didn’t want to get him in trouble. because you didn’t-

“what the hell is wrong with you? why wouldn’t you tell me?”

in that moment, you swore you felt your heart crack.

the room was once again filled with a suffocating silence, strangling you as he turned his thoughts over.

finally, he spoke, the realization having hit him.

“you didn’t want me to worry. to blame myself.”

somehow, even though the sentences themselves seemed kind, your boyfriend’s tone practically dripped in venom. you looked back up at him, vision blurry, but he plowed on.

“y/n, that’s not how relationships work. why would you hide this? why would you put your health, your happiness-” he stuttered, having a hard time voicing his emotions. “your fucking safety! your life, goddammit! why would you rather risk that than worry me?!”

something in his voice began to anger you, and you snapped back at him, surprising the both of you.

“because, jongho! because i fucking KNEW-” you slam your finger into his chest. “i knew you’d blame yourself, just like you are right now!”

“i blame myself because it’s my fault!”

“how?!” your voice rose to meet his. “how the hell is this your fault?”

“because it’s me! i’m the issue here!” he seethed. “if you were dating any normal guy, this wouldn’t happen. “but no. i was the one who fell in love with you, and now you carry around a weight you never asked for.”

you inhaled sharply, responding before you could even fully absorb his words. “but i chose you, too! i love you, and i’m willing to carry that weight, i always have been!”

“but that’s not the point! the point is that in the end, this!-” he gestured angrily to the letter. “this is because of me. and i hate it. because you know damn well who those come from. they come from crazy fucking people who don’t want to see you with me.”

you sighed, indignant and angry. “i don’t see why it has to be your problem! that is my fucking name on the letter, not yours.”

“but you wouldn’t be getting shit like that in the first place if it weren’t for me!” a beat passed and suddenly his whole body seemed to deflate. “it’s my own fucking fault for loving you.”

you couldn’t possibly think of how to respond.

“you... you get so much shit for being with me, and you know it won’t stop. i’ve made your life so much harder than it has to be.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but your boyfriend plows on.

“if only i wasn’t part of the equation- this would be unthinkable then.”

you felt ravaged. like you were dangling on the edge of a cliff, barely holding on. once, jongho had been your support. your rock. now- now you felt the air beneath your feet, sending chills through you as your heart hung by a thread.

“god.” he put his face in his hands. “god, sometimes i just wish i’d never met you.”

the thread snapped. you let go of the cliff.

you fell.

you inhaled as the brutal words hit you. they entered like a smooth knife, only to be jerked and twisted in your gut. you took a step back, silent tears streaming down your face.

jongho instantly realized his mistake, his face paling. “y/n...” his voice was almost a whisper as he neared tears himself. “you know i didn’t mean it like that,” he took a hold of your wrist, and you jerked it back.

“no.” you managed. your voice was scratchy and hoarse. “no. you did.”

you couldn’t look him in the eyes. turning away, you stumbled towards your front door. without stopping to think- to think that it was already late, to think that you were leaving your own apartment- you shoved on your shoes and left. you didn’t even take your cell phone.

- - -

back in the kitchen, jongho’s knees buckled, and he sank to the ground. a moment passed. then he put his head in his hands, and for the first time in ages, he sobbed- letting the world swallow him and his feelings whole.

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thexanwillshine · 3 years

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a;lskfjdk

Author: thexanwillshine (twitter, ao3) Pairings: Levi x Hange Cross-Postings: AO3 Notes: made for Day 2: Confessions of Levihan Week 2021

“But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Levi Ackerman can argue that every writer he’s met is always a little bit more eccentric than the average person, but no one proves his theory more than Hange Zoë.

Hange wakes him up in the middle of the night, voice screeching on the phone in her excitement. He responds groggily—as one does when their sleep is disturbed at an ungodly hour by an overly-excited author who acts as if they’ve just found out the answers to the universe—and tries to keep himself sober enough to understand what in the goddamn fuck Hange was talking about this time.

“Levaaiiii,” she says, drawling out his name in a manner that was both annoying and endearing, “I’ve figured it out!”

He can almost imagine the look on her face: starry-eyed in her joy, mouth stretched wide into a grin, fingers shaking as she bounces in glee, shifting her weight from the heels of her feet to the tips of her toes . . .

And Levi exhales in both relief and the tiniest hint of delight, because this is exactly how he wants Hange to be: happy .

Nevertheless, he replies “Figured what out?” snarkily.

Hange’s response comes out quickly, as if she needed to say everything that had to be said in the span of five seconds or less. “So you know how I’ve been trying to write a fiction novel because I wanted to get out of my comfort zone?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement as he fixes the covers over his legs before turning on his bedside lamp. He leans back on the bed frame and closes his eyes to listen to her ramble.

“So I was thinking, I wanted to write a romance novel, because you know how people fall in love and stuff?”

“No Hange, I’ve never heard of that concept in my entire life,” Levi says in a deadpan voice.

Hange laughs, because of course she would know that’s his pathetic attempt at lighthearted conversation. Levi is glad that she knows him better than most people, and it is this sense of familiarity that made him feel particularly comfortable when graced with her presence.

“Just because you’ve never fallen in love before doesn’t mean it’s not real, Levi!” Hange tells him in jest.

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“After all, you’ve probably never wanted to kiss someone your entire life!”

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“Sure, Hange.”

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, because yes, Levi has fallen in love—and maybe, just maybe, he’s still on the road to understanding what it meant to treasure someone far more than just a regular friend.

He shakes off such thoughts before maneuvering Hange back to the initial reason why she had called. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“I finished,” she proclaims on the phone, her voice proud, “I finished writing the first ten chapters.”

Levi blinks in confusion before sitting straight up, the information processing in his mind that was still a bit drunk with sleep. “You what?” “I couldn’t stop writing,” Hange told him sheepishly, detecting the slightest hint of concern in her editor’s voice, “I’ve been writing for the past 24 or so hours. Maybe more.”

Levi grunts in annoyance, pulling the covers away from his body and jumping out of his unmade bed. He runs a hand through his dark locks, sighing. “Four-eyes, you need to get some sleep.”

“But Levi,” Hange says in protest, “I need you to read my draft. There are some parts I just don’t think are super natural.”

“And I was sleeping like a regular human being,” Levi retorted as he shrugged off his shorts. After that, he put on jeans that he had recently washed before patting down the shirt he was wearing in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the wrinkles that had accumulated while he tossed and turned in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Levi, I didn’t realize the time!” Hange replies, and he can almost feel her guilt starting to set in. “You should go back to sleep,” she immediately adds. “Take care of yourself!”

Levi slips on his rubber shoes and grabs his umbrella before answering. “Coming from you? Not that credible.”

Hange laughs light-heartedly, and his heart flutters just a tiny bit. Levi pushes the feeling away almost as quickly as it had come.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, almost dreading the reply.

There was none.

“Hange,” he calls, but there’s still no response. “Hange. Answer me,” he says firmly, prodding her on. “Have you eaten?”

The laughter that comes out from the other end is nervous. “Woops.”

Levi sighs. He opens his car door and slips inside smoothly, grabbing his keys from his pocket and starting the engine. “Hange, you’re supposed to eat.”

“Sorry,” she tells him honestly. “I really didn’t want to ruin my momentum. I can’t believe I forgot.” She mumbles her second sentence, sounding almost deep in thought. “I’ll go find food now! Want me to email you the working draft? You can look at it in the morning when you wake up.”

“No need,” Levi tells her, placing his phone on his dashboard and accelerating his car. “I’m on the way.”

“Levi!” Hange exclaimed excitedly as she heard her doorbell ring at around four in the morning.

She rushes to the door in delight, opening it to reveal Levi standing in front of her, a paper bag in his hand and a jacket half-heartedly slung over his shoulder.

“Hi,” he greets calmly, before walking inside and letting himself in.

Inwardly, Hange thanks whatever god is out there for her foresight. Her unit was relatively clean since she hadn’t really done anything since Levi’s last visit. The place seemed to pass Levi’s health protocols, since he sat on her couch and placed the paper bag on the table right across from him.

“Eat,” he tells her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hange grins, before plopping down beside him and opening the paper bag. “What did you get me?”

“You’ll see.”

She raises an eyebrow at his ambiguity, before taking a glimpse inside the paper bag.

The smell of quesadillas immediately fills the room, and Hange lets out a soft squeal, taking out the food from the bag quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” Hange says as she nudges him on the shoulder. “You also got me onion rings! You know me too well, Levi.”

“Unfortunately,” Levi responds sarcastically, and Hange laughs almost automatically.

As Hange hums in glee, picking apart the paper wrapped around the food items, Levi maintains his silence. They stay like that as Hange eats. Every so often, she would comment about how the amount of cheese was perfect and how the onion rings just about melted in her mouth. Levi alternates between watching her eat and scrolls through his phone placidly.

Soon, he chooses to break the silence. “So where’s your draft?”

Hange is munching on her last piece of quesadilla when she glances in his direction. “Oh, it’s on my laptop! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, this food was just so good.”

Levi stands up and heads on over to Hange’s room, gently pushing the door open and scanning the area for her laptop. On top of her unmade bed was a half open Macbook Pro, which he gently took before returning to his seat beside Hange.

Without hesitation, Levi opens the laptop and inputs the password. For some reason, Hange made it his birthday—1225—because she claimed that no one would guess such a random date. He is greeted with a blaring Google Docs document entitled “a;lskfjdk.”

“Nice title you got there,” he comments, and Hange chuckles.

“I didn’t want to think of a title yet, okay!” Hange pouts, and Levi nudges her foot gently in an attempt to comfort her from his own teasing.

He scans the document first before reading it. Hange is a good writer, but fiction is an entirely new genre for her. Immediately, he notices common habits from writing research papers leak into her new work: overexplaining, using words that are too formal for her target audience, sentences a little bit void from emotion.

He takes note of these comments on her notes app before going over her draft again, this time more meticulously than he had done previously. During this time, Hange finishes eating, wraps her trash and tosses them all inside the paper bag before standing up and dumping the entire thing inside her garbage bin.

“Levi,” she calls as she washes her hands through the sink faucet. Levi gives her the smallest hint that he’s listening by raising his eyebrow, but he doesn’t take his gaze away from her laptop. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announces, and he waves his hand dismissively.

Hange smiles to herself. Levi is always nagging her whenever she would accidentally hyperfixate on her writing, but he acts the same way when reading her works.

When Hange stepped inside the shower, Levi was already conducting a deep dive in her third chapter. The gears in his head slowly begin to turn as he begins to analyze her work.

The story revolved around the tales of the people who went to the clinic. The first chapter was a brief introduction on who the main characters were: There’s Janelle, a bright-eyed psychologist whose passion influenced the people around her. Together with El and Bea, her trusted assistants studying under her guidance, they would aid the people who went to the Hopiatria Clinic seeking care.

Meanwhile, the second chapter featured a child who felt as if she was being blamed for the death of her mother by her father. Her mother had died in a plane crash shortly after the young girl wished that her mom could go home on her sixth birthday. Janelle talks to the child gently while El and Bea provide emotional support, offering the child toys and biscuits whenever the need arises.

The third chapter was trickier, and it was there that Levi noticed a twist in Hange’s writing. The story revolved around a boy busy getting her doctorate, and a young girl who had been in love with him ever since they were in college. It’s the young girl who comes to Janelle’s office, and she relays the tale of her unrequited childhood romance to the psychologist.

The young girl is passionate, and wanted to take a step forward in order to guide her towards falling out of love with her best friend. Janelle presents two suggestions: (1) confession, while being fully-open to the possibility of rejection, and (2) accepting rejection without confession. The young girl decides to go with the first option, but to her surprise, the boy returns her feelings.

Everything seemed well-written up until the end of the chapter, where Hange had written,

And then they kissed.

Levi scrolled down the page, tilting his head to the side in slight confusion. That’s it? He thought, trying to find the rest.

Everything had been so well-described; from the girl’s internal turmoil—caused by her fear of destroying their friendship and the pain that came with unrequited love—to the boy confessing his own emotions for her.

The ending was anticlimactic, to say the least.

As he blinked at the google document in confusion, already typing out his comment on her notes app, Hange emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, wet from her shower. Wrapped around her waist is his bathrobe, which she had borrowed from him long ago and never bothered to return it.

Levi scoffs as he glances in her direction. Here she was, parading with the cloth on and rubbing that specific fact in his face.

“Hey,” Hange greeted, smiling as she ran a hand through her brown locks, “How’s the reading going?”

“It was okay until the third chapter,” Levi says honestly, pointing the laptop screen in her direction. “The ending’s anticlimactic.”

Hange hummed, pursing her lips together. “Yeah. I didn’t really know how to end it,” she tells him as she opens her cabinet and grabs a few pieces of clothing. “Give me a bit, I’m going to change.”

She disappears into her room and Levi focuses on her story, trying to think of a way to spur Hange on and perhaps actively improve the ending’s writing.

Hange emerges in a loose t-shirt (which was, once again, his) and shorts. She sits down right beside him, leaning over his shoulder to glance at her laptop and read the specific line that particularly irked Levi.

“It’s that one, right?” Hange asks, pointing at the last sentence. “And then they kissed.”

“Yeah,” Levi responds, shaking his head. “Everything was so well-written up ‘till that point. You were able to describe the emotions perfectly, and the narration’s not that bad . . save for a few paragraphs that maybe should’ve stayed in your research papers.”

Hange chuckles. “Old habits die hard,” she responds, before taking her Macbook from his lap and transferring it to hers. “So what should I write?”

Levi shrugs. “I’m just your editor. You’re the writer.”

Hange pouts. “Yeah, but I don’t know how to make this better.”

“Maybe describe the scene more,” Levi suggests. “Everything ended so abruptly. Every emotion you’ve created and built disappeared in that one line.”

She nods in agreement. “But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Hange’s eyes shoot open immediately, and Levi’s face turns red just as quickly.

“F-Forget it,” he says, interrupting her just when he saw Hange open her mouth to speak. Any semblance of calm in his body disappears immediately, and his heart starts pounding against his chest in a rhythm that reminds him too much of a beating drum.

Hange, however, looks elated.

“You want to kiss me?” she tells him in excitement, blinking at him. “I’d like that. It could help me write this scene, you know.”

Levi looks away. “It was just a spur of the moment question.”

“So, you’re not going to kiss me?”

He actively avoids her gaze because he can already see from his peripheral vision that she looks sad, disappointed even. He grunts in response, closing his eyes and focusing his attention on a random spot on the wall.

“Oh,” Hange replies, “Well, I thought it was a good idea.”

Contrary to popular belief, Levi does want to kiss Hange. More than anything.

There were many reasons why: Because she looks so handsome and beautiful at the same time, and her very smile could light up any room she’d walk into. Because she says his name in the most endearing way. Because she understands his flaws. Because she has one of the kindest hearts he’s ever seen. Because she welcomes him with open arms, not a single thread of hesitation in her mind.

Most of all, it was simply because she was Hange.

He steals a glance in her direction, and she’s slightly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, her head downcast. Her sad expression tugs at hi

Levi thinks he’s already in this too deep, so he decides to speak.

“Did you want me to kiss you?”

From his periphery, he sees her look up at him so quickly he thought her neck would break. “What would you do if I said yes?”

He doesn’t dare turn his head in her direction when he replies quietly, “What do you think?”

“Would you kiss me?” Hange asks inquisitively, tilting her head to the side.

Levi’s heart skips a beat.

“Maybe,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper. “If you’d let me.”

Hange is silent for a moment, and Levi thinks this is it, I’m going to be rejected, but he feels a gentle finger touch his chin and turn his head in Hange’s direction.

He is met with her brown orbs, shining just a bit in what seemed like hidden glee. He cocks an eyebrow at her then, confused.

“I’m letting you,” Hange says, laughing. “Kiss me, I mean.” Her face is already slowly nearing his, and he can almost see the way her thick lashes brushed against her skin.

Slowly, Levi raises his head just a tiny bit and responds against her lips, “Okay.”

Hange smiles and closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck as he does the same around her waist. She tastes like the peppermint of her toothpaste, smells like his shampoo (which he had kept in her apartment since he always found himself staying over), and felt warm as her skin made contact with his. Hange's lips are gentle, slow, and a little shy—so different from how she usually is. Levi knows it’s because she doesn’t want to scare him off, so he makes the first move and nips at her lower lip, taking it between his teeth and sucking it gently.

She lets out a moan, and Levi takes this as a sign to continue. He slides his hand over her back, and she shudders and deepens the kiss at the same time. Her tongue meets his, and they battle for dominance. Hange’s hand sweeps over his undercut and pushes him towards him, and it is then that he lets out a sound that vaguely resembles pleasure.

After a few minutes, Hange whispers “Levi,” as her lips make contact with his. He hums in response, pulling his lips away from her and connecting his forehead with hers.

“Hange,” he says, breathless.

“Is this you telling me you like me?” Hange asks, closing her eyes.

He doesn’t form a reply through words, but he nods and closes his eyes as well.

“Great,” Hange tells him, pecking his lips with her own. “Because I like you too. Ever since I met you, I’ve liked you. Even though you were so rude to me on the first day of college.”

He chuckles silently in relief, pulling her closer to him before placing his chin on her shoulder. “Think you’ll be able to write the ending now that you know what a kiss feels like?”

Hange laughs, and it vibrates against his shoulder as she hugs him tighter. “It’s exhilarating. I probably wouldn’t be able to put into words how good I feel that you like me back.”

“Try,” Levi teases.

“Well . . . you know that alternative title I wrote for the fictional novel?”

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The keyboard smash?”

Hange nods. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I feel like right now.”

a;lskfjdk.

#levihan #levi x hange #levihanweek 2021 #LHW 2021 #LHWeek Day 2

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Canary, Part 4

First

Okay. Fine. She’ll stop stalling.

She grabbed everything she’d need: water, snacks, her phone, Tikki, headphones, and a cheat sheet she’d written for herself… and then sat herself down on the floor, laptop in her lap.

Truly interesting stuff.

But it was about to get even more boring for her. She needed to do some hacking.

There’s three main ways to get information.

Most people master one and then team up with others. It was why a lot of groups in books are groups of three (or five, if you want to add a distinct brain and brawn).

Marinette didn’t do partners.

So, she had to do it all herself.

Grifting is the kind of thing people expect from conmen. Straight manipulation. This was her specialty. She’d learn about her marks, devise a plan, and get close enough to them to get whatever she needed -- blackmail, talking someone into something, talking someone out of something, checking to see if someone was cheating… that was what she was good at. Sometimes, when it was late at night and she was all alone, she felt bad about it. Most of the time she decided that it was their fault for letting her get that close to them -- Gothamites should know by now to be wary of short Asian women.

Thievery is almost what it sounds like. She often did straight up steal objects, from money to keycards to prototypes to files out of desks… but it also meant stealing information. She’d hide herself in vents or carve out a place in the walls and listen in on conversations. She wasn’t bad at it, but people were actually growing wise to this one. She found that many of the vents she wanted to use had cameras or motion detectors of some sort. But, a few jobs ago, she’d been given an EMP pulse gun as payment so that wasn’t as much of a problem anymore.

Hacking was… well, hacking. She… wasn’t too good at it. She’d never seen the point. Red Robin and Oracle were so good that anything she’d do would never hold up. So, she’d left that skill alone. All she ever needed was to know how to make semi-decent false identities, anyways.

… but now she needed an identity that would fool even them. Which meant that it was best to use one that actually existed.

She bit her lip and turned on the first Harry Potter book as audio while she booted up her computer.

Alright, so… she needed a paper trail that would keep her in Paris for the past nine years. The camera footage of cities often didn’t keep for that long, so she only needed to have a few clips of her heading to and being in the airport.

She pulled up Gotham security cameras. She grabbed footage from the subway specifically, it had the most things she needed: leaning against walls while she waited for things, scanning tickets, setting things in bins while they checked her over for bombs…

Okay... all she needed now was to change the face on the footage to make sure that their facial recognition systems picked up that it was her. She moved over to her greenscreen and got footage of her face as she continued working.

Next, she needed to -- um? -- PAPERS. She needed to forge papers.

Well, she could claim that she had been working under her parents in exchange for food and rent… which meant dentist and doctor appointments were really all she needed.

She found older papers and used that to forge her doctor’s handwriting. She had no clue what medicines she was supposed to be taking but that’s fine. The stuff doctors prescribed were pretty much just suggestions in her eyes, anyways.

Was that all?

… she was pretty sure she was done.

She took the footage from her camera and superimposed it on the makeup-covered face she used for Gotham pixel by pixel.

By the time she had finished her audiobook had long-since ended and she had gotten pretty far into the second book. She liked the second book more than the first so far. Maybe it’s because Rowling hadn’t given away the ending in a dream sequence like she did in the first one.

She forced herself to sit up. Her bones creaked. How long had…?

Eleven hours. She’d been sitting there for eleven hours with only tiny breaks to go to the bathroom. No wonder she felt so awful.

She rubbed her eyes and walked over to the window. It was getting early. Dim light filtered through the one-way window and she looked out over the city. She had set up base on the thirteenth floor of a building. Gotham had a weird superstition about thirteenth floors -- if they had to make a building any higher than that, they would put a ‘fake floor’ in to trick… the gods? The bad luck? Something. Whatever the reason, it was good for her. It was safer than any of her other safehouses. Even if someone knew that someone lived there they would steer clear, assuming it belonged to The Court.

So, she was safe. She trudged to her fridge and listened to the audiobook speaker talk about how someone else had gotten petrified -- the name had already slipped away from her, all the names in these books were so fucking weird -- as she picked out an energy drink. She cracked it open and then took tiny sips from it as her brain tried and failed to wake up some.

She felt a tiny paw rub her head and blinked a few times to get her out of The Long Stare that she had been doing for the past… yikes, twenty minutes.

She shook her head a few times to wake herself up and then sent Tikki a tiny smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re overworking yourself.”

“I’ll only be doing this for a year,” she said. “Then, no matter what, it’s over.”

“... see, that -- that doesn’t exactly encourage me…”

Marinette giggled and pressed a kiss to the kwami’s way-too-big head. “I’ll sleep later.”

The kwami didn’t believe her.

Fair enough. She was lying.

But it wasn’t like Tikki could really stop her so… she started gathering things into a backpack. A few pairs of nondescript clothes, snacks, a bit of cash -- she’d come back for more later -- and looked around.

She couldn’t take any of her favorite knives, unfortunately, she’d have to settle for a plain old dagger and leave everything else behind. She’d kiss them goodbye but most of them were laced with either paralytics or straight up poison so that would have been a Bad Idea.

… she was missing something...

Ah. She swapped out her work phone for a burner, added a black case, and then added a phone charm. It was a tiny Robin, it would add to her credibility.

Yeah. That was probably it.

Then, she fell out of the thirteenth-story window.

(It’s fine. She lived. Obviously.)

She headed to the nearest hotel. It was a front for the mob but, really, was there any places that weren’t? She checked in, dropped her things off, and started out the door.

Where to first? It was getting time for most of the bats to stop patrolling but she supposed she could follow after Signal first.

… well, this sucked.

Messing up while jumping from building to building, even on purpose, was so embarrassing. She was Canary for fuck’s sake, she didn’t mess up.

But it would be kind of weird if she was too good so… she allowed herself to yelp, to fall, to curse, to scrape her knees...

God, this entire job was just so embarrassing. She was getting blackmailed by Penguin, she’d had to ask her ‘parents’ for money, and now she was falling all over the place. This was stupid. Someone kill her, please. (Or, at least, make this job end quickly.)

But this was necessary. She’d be stupid not to follow them around. They could slip up, either by saying their real names on accident or by getting hurt enough for her to sneak down and take off their masks.

(She had no delusions that they were famous, of course. They’d be stupid to be public figures. Still, a face or a name was better than nothing.)

So, she followed them. Three days went by without any of them acknowledging her existence.

Right now, she was following after Red Robin. She could tell he knew she was there, he was going slightly slower than normal, and she appreciated it -- or… fake her appreciated it? She didn’t know. This was all so weird.

Want to know what else was weird? Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It was the first one that she’d truly enjoyed as more than something to pass time with. She liked Cedric. All these death flags better be red herrings. She could -- and would -- cry if he died.

That would be embarrassing… which was kind of par for the course right now. She hated that she had thought that. She’d definitely jinxed it.

She stopped a few buildings down from where Red Robin was getting coffee and then smiled as he continued on the ground. Thank god. Rooftops suck.

She bit her lip nervously as she listened to Harry talk about how he was doing in the maze. The distinct lack of Cedric was worrying her.

She was so distracted that, when she followed Red Robin into an alley, it took her a few seconds to realize that he had disappeared. She stood in the middle of the alley, the hair on the back of her neck prickling as she looked up at the dead end she had been led to.

There was a crunch of gravel behind her and she allowed herself to flinch.

She turned around with a weak smile. Red Robin returned it, but the lenses of his domino were narrowed like they usually were when he was annoyed about something.

This was an expression that Canary was used to. But he shouldn’t have known she was Canary. So...

Shit.

~~~

TheBetterCanary: tim drake 🤝 red robin

throwing coffee cups in random trash cans so their families don't know how much they’re drinking

Yummmmmm: Snitch

~~~~~

Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Canary taglist: @jayjayspixiepop @unoriginalmess @miraculousfanfic127 @probably-a-hologram

#few things have broken me in the way that learning i have extra teeth has #like i legitimately cried #apparently i have just four extra teeth and that's why i bite my cheek a lot #it fucking hurts i dont want them #at least its not anxiety thing??#canary #maribat #timinette #timari #timmari #shutterbug #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #red robin #tim drake

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cherrybracelets · 4 years

Text

as the world caves in

masterlist | request

spencer reid x bau agent!reader

song inspo: as the world caves in - matt maltese (i highly recommend listening to this before or during reading to fully understand the fic)

summary: you’ve worked in the bau for almost a year now, but this is your toughest case to date. when the unsub puts you and spencer in a near death situation, the complex feeling of mortality causes you to bear your souls to one another

word count: 6k | warnings: no smut but it is typical criminal minds violence, plot centers around reader being held hostage by an unsub so there is tying up, reader getting hurt, etc. pls be cautious when reading if that makes you uncomfortable

Your head was pounding, the sound of phones ringing and private chatter ringing through your ears. You shakily poured a cup of coffee, closing your eyes momentarily as you tried to wake yourself up. You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was barely five in the morning. You yawned obnoxiously, assuming no one was around you. But when you heard a quiet snicker from behind, you knew immediately you were not alone. You spun around quickly to see Emily, waving as she set her bag down on her desk.

“Pretty early to be called in. Must be important,” she concurred, pouring herself a cup of stale FBI coffee as well.

“Do you ever get used to it?” You groaned, taking a long swig of the cheap coffee. You had doused it with milk and sugar to make it consumable, but it still left a nasty taste in your mouth with each sip. You knew you wouldn’t make it without caffeine, though, so you stomached it down.

“I’ve been here… five years, now? I can assure you it doesn't get easier,” she laughed. You had missed her laugh, when she was gone. She had become a wonderful mentor to you, and when you thought you lost her, you were shattered. Having her back has been enough to get you through the tough cases, which seemed to be escalating with each one.

“You know, next week is my one year anniversary with the BAU,” you smiled, excited of your first milestone with the team. The BAU was an exceptionally hard job, and many people didn’t make it as long as you had. It was something to be proud of.

“You’re kidding! Congratulations, (Y/N).”

“Thank you!”

You saw Hotch and Derek walk in out of the corner of your eye, deep in conversation. You were sure it was an important one, the look on Hotch’s face confirming your suspicions. They walked straight to the conference room, not even looking up to notice you and Emily. You gave Emily a look, and you were both thinking the same thing. ‘We better get our asses in there.’

You followed Emily into the room, Garcia getting the case ready to present. The rest of the team filtered in over the next few minutes, riddled with dark circles, cups of coffee and worry. There wasn’t much small talk made, everyone too out of it to pretend to talk about what they did last weekend.

“Good morning everyone, thanks for coming in so early,” Hotch addressed, standing up as he welcomed everyone. “We’ve got a bit of a weird case, today. Garcia, why don’t you go ahead and present.”

“Okay, my loves. This is a bit of a weird one, so strap in to keep up with me. A 21 year old female, Emily Davies, was abducted yesterday morning from the parking lot in her apartment complex. Now, the lot did have security cameras, but the unsub cut the internet cable and they can’t download the video until the can fix the wire.”’

“He’s smart, probably knew it would slow us down. And shows he has knowledge in wiring and electrics.” Derek added.

“Exactly. The police believe we should have the footage by the time we land. Now here’s where it gets weird. Two hours after she was abducted, there was a shooting at a gas station about 30 miles outside of the city, off I75. Three dead, including the worker. No cameras there, unfortunately.”

“How do we know it’s the unsub?” You questioned, failing to see the connection between the two crimes.

“Ah, my darling, if there wasn’t a connection we wouldn’t be called in. Our unsub left a note at this crime scene. It read, ‘They were going to take her. I couldn’t let them take her. She is mine, we are in love. Please, leave us be.’” Garcia then pulled up photos of the crime scene and the note on the monitor.

“These are clean shots, straight to the head, execution style,” Reid said, studying the photos on the screen.

“He knows how to use a gun, that’s for sure.” Rossi added.

“The 911 call was made by a customer who walked in to see the carnage about a half hour after the unsub left. They believe he is continuing to drive North, but we currently have no idea what him or his car look like.”

“If he didn’t kill again, he most likely stopped somewhere. He may be lowing low in a roadside motel to keep us off his trail,” Reid said.

“The gas station seemed unplanned. The abduction was thorough, leaving no evidence. But this scene is sloppy, and rushed. They must’ve seen Emily and panicked, and he shot em. This was never part of the plan, and now he’s freaking out.”

“That’s a good point, Emily’s face is all over the news now. He’d need a place to rest for a bit until he can come up with the rest of his plan. How exactly did people discover that Emily was missing?” You asked, curious about the rest of the unsubs plan.

“Well, it was actually kind of a fluke, but very helpful for us. Her boyfriend, Michael Adams, discovered she was gone when he came home early from work. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another six hours, but something had happened and they sent him home. He called 911 when he realized her phone, keys, and bag were all at home but she was nowhere to be found. They aren’t sure exactly what time she went missing, but at that point Michael had only been gone for two hours.”

“This guy had to have been stalking her. He knew to take her on a day she’d be alone for hours, he knew to cut the wires for the security cameras… this was meticulously planned,” Derek responded.

“Except what he didn’t plan for was the boyfriend getting home early, and Emily’s face plastered everywhere. He thought he’d have more time to get away,” JJ added.

“If he truly doesn’t want to be separated from her, it’s only a matter of time before he kills again. Anybody that gets in their way will die, if we don’t stop him. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch instructed, dismissing you all as you separated to prepare for another trip.

You lingered in the conference room for a moment, staring at the photos on the monitor. An uncomfortable feeling floated through you, chills up your spine as you stared at the crime scene. It was far tamer than most things you’d seen during your time here, but something about it made you uneasy. Spencer had noticed you staying back, and he stayed in the room as well. Once everyone cleared out, he cleared his throat to let you know he was there. You turned to him, not sure if you should tell him how you felt or not. Was it weak to say you were nervous?

“You okay?” He asked calmly, his eyes avoiding yours as he waited for your answer.

“I… just have a bad feeling about this case. Does that ever happen to you?”

“Mmm, yes.” He chuckled slightly, running a hand through his hair. “And usually, I’m right.”

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

The plane landed in Cincinnati only a few hours later, cars awaiting to take you to the police station upon arrival. You were grateful to hear that they were able to pull the security footage from the lot Emily was abducted, and it was ready to be viewed when you arrived at the station.

You got in a car with Derek and Spencer, a duo that you usually tried to avoid. Derek always joked with you and Spencer that the two of you had a crush on each other. Although it was slightly true on your part, and your heart did race every time Spencer walked into a room, it was embarrassing to see Spencer so confidently deny any feelings for you.

But, Hotch sent the three of you to the station, instructing you to study the security tapes. The rest of them were going to talk to the boyfriend and visit the crime scene. You sat awkwardly in the back seat, trying to keep quiet, not wanting to say anything that would entice Derek.

“Judging by the way he worded this note, our unsub is most definitely in love with Emily. Do you think she knew him?” Spencer turned to you, and then to Derek, waiting for someone to respond.

“It’s impossible to say. There was no sign of forced entry in the apartment.” Derek responded.

“They think she was taking her trash out when she was abducted. Explains why she left all of her things inside, and the door was unlocked,” you added, wanting to be a part of the conversation. Although it had been almost a year, you still felt like you had to constantly prove yourself when you were with them.

“Even if she knew him, you wouldn’t get in someone's car without your phone, or wallet. He had to have had a weapon,” Derek said.

“The gun he used to kill everyone in the gas station, probably,” Spencer muttered. You all stayed silent for the rest of the drive, your brain taking a quiet moment to think through the details of the case.

The police station wasn’t too far from the airport, and you got there pretty quickly. You always felt so small in the police stations, usually dealing with male detectives or sheriffs or cops. You felt like you’d drown in testosterone, and everyone would be so busy in a dick measuring contest that they couldn’t save you. As you walked into the station, you were greeted by yet again another male detective who reeked of desperation and Viagra.

“Hi, I’m Detective Elijah Guthrie. Thank you so much for coming.” He shook all of your hands, welcoming you into his station.

“Where do you have the security tapes set up?” Reid asked quickly, realizing the urgency of this case, and that we didn't have time for small talk.

“Conference room. Everything you said you needed is set up there, as well.”

“Awesome, we should go get started, then,” Derek smiled, leading the three of you into the room.

You all sat down and watched the tapes, replaying them over and over to catch every detail that you could. Luckily, the unsub cut the wires after he took the girl. It seemed sloppy, on his end. He had to know eventually that we’d get the footage. But he was smart enough to make sure his face was nowhere in view. Although, his car was still in view, and you were able to pull a plate number.

“Garcia, baby girl, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear. What can I do for you, my sweets?”

“Run a plate for us. Ohio plates, number EUE 8561.”

“Of course, give me uno momento....” You could hear the sound of Garcia typing away, finding the mysterious man. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if any of these cases would get solved without her.

“Alright, I got your man. 24 year old Jacob Lane.” “Are we sure our unsub didn’t just steal this guy’s car?”

“Good point, Garcia check to see if Jacob has any connection to Emily.”

“Gotcha… oh, man. Looks like he grew up in the same town that she did.”

“Well, that’s suspicious,” Derek responded, raising his eyebrows. “Alright, thanks baby. Try and dig up some more on this guy.” He hung up the phone, staring at the paused video in front of him.

“(Y/N), you call Hotch and give him the update. There’s a good chance this guy’s our unsub. Reid, call JJ and have her ask the boyfriend if they knew this guy.” You and Reid both looked at each other and nodded, standing up and walking into the hallway to complete your tasks. You dialed Hotch’s number swiftly, listening to the ringing as you awaited him to answer.

“Hotchner,” he answered, sternly.

“Hey, it’s me. I think we got our guy- Jacob Lane. The car that Emily got into was registered to him, and he grew up in the same town as her. Garcia is digging up some more info, and Reid is on the phone with JJ, gonna see what we can get from the boyfriend.”

“Alright, well we’ve just been informed there was another shooting. This time at a motel not too far from the gas station. We’re gonna head there, now.”

“How many, this time?” You asked, dreading the answer.

“Six. Doesn’t look like anybody made it out.”

You stayed silent, your head spinning as you thought of six more dead bodies, six more grieving families.

“Thanks, Hotch.” You hung up your phone, walking back towards Reid and Derek.

“Detective Guthrie just told me there’s been another shooting,” Derek said to you, unaware if you had been informed.

“Yeah, Hotch just told me. We have to get this guy before he does this again.”

“Unfortunately, most cases with spree killers like this end in hostage situations, and eventually suicide by cop. Spree killers' motivations are usually very similar.” Reid stated, his voice emotionless as he rattled off his facts. He was obviously right, and you felt sick as you thought of standing face to face with this man,

“I’m gonna go talk to Emily’s parents, see if they knew anything about Jacob. You guys stay in here and go over everything we have so far, see if we missed anything.”

“Alright. Thanks, Derek.”

He left the room quietly, walking out to find the family. You started looking over the video again, straining your eyes to see if you could make out any overlooked details. But it was the same every time, there was nothing new to report. You were angry, not feeling any closer to catching this guy.

“What do you make of this?” You asked Spencer, hoping his genius brain would come up with an explanation yours couldn’t.

“He loves a girl, tries to take her away with him, gets caught and panics, starts killing anybody that calls him out. It’s pretty straight forward. Although, the way he’s killing them is unique. The actual crime seems rushed and panicked, but the killings themselves and calm and exact. One shot, the same place. It’s too… perfect.”

“He’s killed before,” you concluded, feeling your heart racing as you thought of more victims at the hand of Jacob.

“Yes, but most likely in the military. These are execution style deaths. This M.O. is very specific to military personnel.”

“And you would be correct, boy genius,” Garcia shouted through the speaker on the desk, her voice scaring you slightly. “Jacob Lane was in the Air Force. He was deployed once to Iraq, he got back about six months and was recently relocated to Cincinnati.”

“So something must’ve happened between Emily and Jacob in the past, and when he moved back and saw her again, it must’ve been the trigger. Topped with PTSD, he could’ve easily snapped.”

“What exactly did he do in Iraq?”

“Ah, that is classified information, according to the US government. But no worries, nothing is too classified for me. Our buddy Jacob executed war criminals during his time overseas.”

“Well, that explains the M.O.,” you chuckled, running a hand through your hair, shaking your head in disgust.

“Other than that, he had a relatively normal life. Average in school, normal family. He bounced around colleges a bit before deciding to enlist, but there’s no red flags.”

“Could you find any other link between him and Emily?”

“Well, that’s the other thing. Jacob deleted all of his social media accounts when he got back from Iraq. Twitter, Instagram… everything, gone. But, just because he deleted it does not mean the record doesn’t exist somewhere. I am currently trying to unlock all of his accounts and see if I can find anything, but it’ll take a bit.”

“Alright, Garcia, call us if you get anything. Thank you,” you replied, disconnecting the call. Spencer had stepped away for a moment, answering his phone.

“If this guy had a perfectly normal life, why is he doing this?” You asked, your nails digging into your palms in frustration.

“The military… doing what he did… it could mess a lot of normal people up. Plus, there may be more to the story than we know.”

“Yeah, there is. Listen to this,” Spencer said, walking into the room and putting his phone on speaker.

“Hey, it’s me,” JJ said, her voice flowing softly through the phone. “So we talked to the boyfriend, and there is a long history between Emily and Jacob. They met when she was 18, and they were both dating different people. They had apparently had an affair of sorts, though, leading Jacob to break up with his girlfriend for her. But apparently Emily decided to stay with her boyfriend and ditch Jacob. That’s when he joined the military. Before he left for training camp, Emily’s boyfriend committed suicide. Blamed Emily and Jacob for ruining his life.”

“Jesus…” you muttered under her breath.

“Well, it gets more interesting. Emily picked up and moved to Florida, after that, transferring to a college down there. She was apparently trying to start over. Her and Jacob didn’t talk for two years, but he was relocated to the same town she was in, and they met up again. They started dating, and that’s when he got deployed. About a month after he left, Emily claimed he started acting really weird, to the point where it was scaring her. She broke up with him and blocked him on all social media.”

“The boyfriend knew all of this?”

“She told him because apparently she was afraid of Jacob. She told her boyfriend that if something ever happened to her, she was sure it was Jacob.”

“Why wouldn’t he have mentioned something sooner?”

“He didn’t think it was a big deal. Plus, until two weeks ago, he was living in Florida.”

“Exactly. And he got moved here, found out Emily was here and had a boyfriend, and that was probably the trigger.”

“What I don’t understand is how Emily just… dropped him? She was clearly terrified of him, what could he have possibly done to give her that reaction?”

“He could have told her what he was doing down there. That job is not for someone with a soft heart. She probably couldn’t stomach the thought of being with a man who…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, your mouth choking up your words as they tried to come up.

“We need to make a statement to the press. The public needs to know who to look for.”

“I’ll call the media and put together a press conference. I’ll see you guys soon.” JJ hung up, and Spencer put his phone away. The three of you stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other in awe as your minds wrapped around the information. Part of you felt bad for him. He joined the military to get away, and they stuck him in a job that ruined his humanity. And the girl you love turns away from you when you need her most…

“The hardest part of the job is not to feel bad for the unsubs,” you laughed, your mouth dry and your forehead sweating as you felt more and more anxious about the future of this case.

“It’s refreshing, actually. To see someone else with enough empathy to feel for someone who has done so many bad things. It’s a sign of a beautiful heart,” Spencer said, his eyes meeting yours as he spoke. You smiled at him, redness creeping up your cheeks as you felt your nerves tingling at his words.

“Oh, I’m sure Spencer thinks about your beautiful heart all the time, (Y/N),” Derek teased, causing Spencer to blush as well, and quickly dart his eyes away from you.

“No… c’mon Derek. Why do you have to turn everything into this? Can’t I just be nice to her!” Spencer groaned, pushing Derek slightly on the arm in frustration.

“We’ve got a problem,” Det. Guthrie yelled, bursting through the door of the conference room and, thankfully, interrupting Derek.

“What’s wrong?”

“Emily escaped. She just walked into the police station.”

“How is that a problem?”

“Because Jacob just shot up another place. A diner, this time. We just got the call a minute ago. We’re only a few minutes away. He must’ve come back to the city after Emily got away.”

“(Y/N), you and Reid go to the crime scene. I’m going to stay here and talk to Emily.”

“Alright, we’ll leave now, call us if you need anything.”

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The drive was quick, helped greatly by the use of your sirens. You sped quickly to the diner, you and Reid the first to arrive on the scene. The witness who had called it in greeted you with sobs, not having time to console her as the two of you went quickly inside. The scene was similar to the previous ones, eight bodies, all shot directly in the center of the head. You noticed something wrong, pretty quickly.

“Reid…” you whispered, staring quietly at a table next to you.

“What’s up?”

“Do you see that?” You pointed helplessly to a small plate accompanied with an ever smaller cup, stars and smiley faces printed onto it.

“That’s a kids meal.”

“There’s not a kid in here, Reid.” You looked at him nervously, your whole body burning as you imagined the child that Jacob took.

“There’s a note here, (Y/N)...” Reid handed a crumpled napkin with a sloppy note written across it.

“Is it an address?”

“It’s definitely the unsubs handwriting. I studied the previous note, there’s no doubt he wrote this.”

“This address is only a few minutes away…”

“We need to leave, now. I’ll call Hotch and tell him to send backup.” Reid ran out of the diner and to the car, and you followed behind quickly. Other cops were now pulling in to the crime scene, and you let them know you were leaving but to stay with the bodies and take care of calling the families. You still weren’t sure who in there had a kid, and you wanted to notify the rest of the family if you could.

You and Spencer called Hotch in the car, letting him know where you were headed. He told you him and Rossi would be there in twenty minutes or so. Spencer was swerving in and out of traffic, trying to get to the location the unsub left for you. When you finally arrived, you were surprised to find a secluded barn near a small patch of land. You pulled up and got out of the car, arming yourselves as you got near the building.

“We should wait for backup, Reid… this could be a trap…” you said with caution, a wave of nerves flooding you as you stood in front of the building.

“He could have a little kid in there, (Y/L/N)... we have to go in.”

“Spencer, you know that’s not the right protocol.”

“When has protocol ever done us any good?”

Spencer starting walking towards the door, and you couldn’t bear to see him go in alone. You followed reluctantly, walking through the open door. As soon as you walked through the doors, you saw him. The face in the photos was finally right in front of you, holding a small item in his hands. You couldn’t make out what it was, you were too focused on the boy, who was tied to a chair next to him.

“Hello, agents. Thank you for joining me,” Jacob said, smiling devilishly at the two of you.

“You need to let the boy go, Jacob,” you instructed, your voice remain quiet and calm and your mind spun in circles.

“That’s not how this is going to go. Do you know what this is?” He waved the device in his hands, smiling down proudly at it. You knew then exactly what he was holding in his hands.

“It’s a bomb…”

“Exactly. And if I don’t get exactly what I want, it’s going to detonate. Are we clear?” He looked at you specifically, as if he was nervous you would be the one to try and defy him.

“Yes,” Spencer answered for you, looking upset as he realized you were right. This was a trap, one that the two of you walked so easily into.

“Put your weapons down, first,” he instructed, pointing at your guns. The two of you placed them down on the ground slowly, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Wonderful. Now, I want you to call your boss and tell him I would like to speak with him.”

You nodded in agreeal, slowly pulling out your phone. You dialed Hotch’s number, your hands shaking as you pressed the buttons. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode, bringing the phone to your ear as you listened to it ring.

“We’re almost there, what’s going on?” His voice made you feel safe, calm, knowing he would get you out of there safely. He had to get you out. You couldn’t die… not here… not now.

“Hotch, we’re here with Jacob, and he’d like to talk to you,” you said shakily, your voice trembling as you got the words out.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

You handed Jacob the phone, which he ripped out of your hand and placed to his own ear.

“Listen carefully. I want her back. I want a plane out of here for both of us, or I blow the kid and your two agents up? Is that understood?” You strained hard to see if you could hear Hotch’s voice, but you couldn’t make anything out. You looked over to Spencer, who was staring helplessly at the ground.

You didn’t bother listening to the rest of Jacob’s conversation with Hotch, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. It was you sick to think about him. When he finally finished, he threw the phone back at you. He walked up to you, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your face back to look at him.

“It would be a shame to kill you… You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, smiling down at you. He pulled hard on your hair, knocking you to the ground with all of his force. You slammed onto the dirt hard, feeling your body jolt as you landed. You felt pain shoot through your body, screaming loudly.

“Don’t touch her again!” Spencer yelled, running towards him violently. Jacob pulled a gun and pointed it at his head, which made him stop in his tracks.

“Don’t take another step. Since you want to be her knight in shining armor so bad, why don’t you go ahead and tie her up,” Jacob instructed, pointing the gun at a pile of rope in the corner. Spencer walked slowly over to it, grabbing the rope and tying your hands behind your back. As he tightened the knot, he whispered to you quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words bouncing back and forth in your head as Jacob pushed you to the ground and continued to tie up Spencer. After he finished, he sat Spencer next to you. He had put the two of you in the corner, out of sight and mind. You were aggravating Jacob, you could tell. If he could just tie you up and place you in the corner, he wouldn’t have anything to throw him off.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispered, looking concerned at your now bruising body.

“A little sore, but I’ll be fine. What are we gonna do here, Spence?”

“The team will get us out, okay. I promise.”

You watched Jacob on the other side of the room, pacing slowly as he awaited another call that would give him his demands. You started to hear the sound of sirens pull up, feeling slightly relieved knowing they were right outside those walls. The sound of helicopters overhead was prominent, and you noticed Jacob wincing as it got louder.

“Does the sound of helicopters bother you?” You shouted to him, trying to get his attention away from the boy.

“Shut up! Do I need to tape your mouth shut, too?” He was aggravated, waving his gun around and placing a hand on his head.

“My dad was in the Army… helicopters reminded him of his time overseas. He’d have a panic attack every time he heard one…” You said, trying to relate to him. If you couldn’t use force to bring him down, maybe you could sympathize with him.

“It’s just so loud…” he winced, closing his eyes as if all of his senses were betraying him.

“Let me talk to my boss, if he knew how much they hurt you I bet he’d call them off…”

Jacob considered your proposal for a moment, the idea of the pain going away calling to him. But he was smart, and realized quickly what was going on.

“Are you trying to trick me? Do you think you can outsmart me? I have been ahead of you this entire time.”

“Except you didn’t plan on Emily’s boyfriend coming home early, and you didn’t plan on her escaping, did you? None of this was a part of the plan.” Spencer looked at him desperately, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and feel him holding you. If you were to die here, today, it would be nice to die in the arms of someone you cared about. You desperately craved his touch, especially now. Who knows if this would be your last chance to experience him?

“All I want is for me and Emily to be together, okay? Don’t you get that? Have you ever been in love?”

“I have… and I know how much you love Emily. But if you kill us, you’ll be killing yourself, too. And then Emily will never get to hear how you really feel. Because that’s what all of this is about, right? You just want her to know how you feel?”

“I told her everything. I bore everything to her and she walked away. It… hurt.” Jacob was crying, tears crawling down his face as he shook the gun in his hand.

“I don’t want to die without telling the girl I love how I feel. I know you don’t, either, Jacob. We can all walk out of here and you can see her again.” Spencer looked at you, his eyes pleading for your attention as he spoke.

“I don’t want to get locked up, I can’t live like that…” Jacob continued to cry, and you desperately wanted to give him a hug. He was evil, and you despised him, but he was broken and alone and needed a hug.

“No, no. I am not letting you talk me into this… you both shut up and leave me alone!” He yelled, running away from you and back to the young boy. You let out a long sigh, feeling your own tears starting to form. You really thought you might’ve had him this time. But he was too smart, and he wouldn’t fall for any of your tricks.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should be able to save you, and I can’t…” Spencer was pale, his forehead sweating as he leaned against the wall.

“Spencer, don’t apologize. It is nobody's job to take care of me, except myself.”

“I don’t want to die in here without telling you how I feel, (Y/N).”

“What are you talking about, Spence?”

“I am crazy about you. I have been in love with you for months. And every time I think I might want to say something, Derek makes some stupid joke and you get awkward and I realize if I say anything I’d risk our friendship but I’m sorry, I can’t die here with you and not tell you I’m in love with you.”

“Spencer…” was the only thing you managed to get out. You opened your mouth to try to say more, but the sound of your cell phone ringing stopped you. Jacob ran quickly to the phone, picking it up and placing it on speaker. He looked at you to make sure you were listening. He wanted you to know your entire lives depended on whatever happened on this one phone call.

“Jacob?” A small female voice came on the line, one that you had not recognized. “Jacob, it’s me, it’s Emily.”

“Emily!” He cried, placing a hand over his heart as he heard her voice.

“Jacob, I am right outside for you. I promise we can walk away together if you just leave your weapons inside and come out.” You could hear the pain in her voice and she said those words, knowing how hard it must’ve been for her to do this. But she was the only thing that could end this, that could save four lives. She didn’t have a choice.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You ran away from me, Emily!” Jacob cried into the phone, his voice shaky and his face swollen from tears.

“I have always loved you, Jacob. I have told you everything. You have to believe me. I’m right on the other side of the door. Put down the weapons and show them you’re unarmed, and we can walk away together.”

You watched him closely, patiently waiting for his response. You had never been a religious person, but you prayed to whoever was listening that you could walk away from this.

“Spencer… if we don’t make it out, I want you to know I love you, too. And if we do get out of here, please take me far away from here,” you cried, leaning your head on his shoulder and begging the universe for your life. He kissed the top your head, a small comfort that calmed you down. You watched Jacob slowly look over at the two of you, staying as close as you could, savoring love even in the last moments of your life.

You think it was that moment, him seeing two people in love and remembering what it felt like, that caused him to walk out. He slowly set the gun down, and another small device that you believed was the detonator. He walked through the doors, the sound of a bullet crunching through the air immediately as he stepped outside. You heard the screams of a girl, who was probably dealing with love and loss and pain all in one second, watching the man she loved and feared dying in front of her own eyes.

SWAT and the Bomb Squad came in shortly after, JJ and Derek running in to find the two of you. Emily and Rossi took care of the child as the other two untied you. They walked you outside, JJ pulling you far from Spencer and into an ambulance.

“JJ, I promise I’m fine, but I really need to go see Spencer…” You tried to stand up and walk past her, but you were a little dizzy and she pushed you back down pretty quickly. You saw Spencer arguing with Derek as well, probably for the same reason you were trying to push through JJ.

“Can I take your blood pressure, Agent?” The paramedic said, holding up an arm band and trying to wrap it around you. You angrily refused, finally getting on your feet and walking away from JJ. She realized it wasn’t worth chasing you down, that you would get checked out when you were good and ready.

You ran towards Spencer, who was still being blocked by Derek. You pushed passed cops and paramedics and everything in between, your eyes only on the man you loved. The man who loved you. When you finally got to him, he wrapped his arms around you in relief. He held you for a moment, before letting go and kissing you. It was a kiss full of life, celebrating existence and love.

“Hah, friendly my ass…” Derek whispered, rolling his eyes as he walked away from the two of you.

“Take me away from here, Spencer Reid.”

“Wherever you wanna go.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

Elliot, Just a Tech

Summary: Plagued by not having Admin rights on your work computer, you contact the IT department expecting to talk to your usual guy. However, you are greeted by someone new.

A/N: Consider this post-show

WC: 2596

Warnings: None

You looked over the icons on your desktop for the eleventh time, dragging the old version of Adobe into the trash for the tenth time, and growling with frustration as the error message appeared for what felt like the hundredth time.

Please enter an Administrator’s Username and Password.

After the great email phishing scam the month prior, the IT department had been directed to revoke all employee’s Admin rights to their computers. It wasn’t your fault your colleagues were too dumb to realize that you should not click on email that has been flagged as spam, even if it is a version of your boss’s name: Mattthew Whitman has scheduled a meeting with you at 9 pm!

As if Matthew spelled with three ts wasn’t enough to deter someone, scheduling a meeting at 9 at night should have been, not to mention the exclamation point to top it all off—no one ever enthusiastically scheduled a meeting. Ever.

Alas, no less than 13 people had opened the email, severely compromising the integrity of the network.

You needed to get rid of the old version of Adobe in order for your network’s cloud to allow the download of the updated version, so you were left with no choice but to submit a ticket to the IT department.

You and Matt, no relation to Mattthew your boss, had had several Zoom sessions since the start of the quarantine, mostly thanks to your need to actually get some work done. With so many more people on your network, the IT department was doing the best it could to make sure everyone was achieving basic functionality.

Opening a new work order, you quickly filled in your information and snapped a screen shot of the error message. In less than a minute, you had an email inviting you to a Zoom session.

“Matt’s really on it today,” you said while opening the link and waiting for him to start the session.

You had just glanced away to check your To-Do list when someone opened the Zoom session and you paused, staring at the downturned face of someone who was definitely not Matt.

“Hi,” you greeted awkwardly.

“Hi,” he answered, still not looking into the camera.

“Where’s Matt?”

The stranger looked into the camera, clearly caught off-guard.

“Uh, he’s off today.”

“So they finally unchained him from his desk—good for him!”

The stranger’s eyes widened a little in amusement, but he didn’t smile which caused your grin to quickly fade.

“Are you . . .” the stranger trailed off as he glanced at his other desktop monitor. “Y/N?”

“I am. And you are?”

“Elliot.”

“Are you the new Supervisor they were hiring for last week?”

“Nope. Just a Tech.”

“All right. Well, hi, Elliot, just a Tech. I’m in dire need of installing an update, which I cannot do because my colleagues are dumbasses.”

This time Elliot did smile, and you found yourself reaching up to fix the wild bun on the top of your head, wishing you had actually taken some time out not to look like a troll who had crawled out from under its bridge.

“I see that you can’t install Adobe’s update without administrative permission.”

“Yup. That’s my issue, I think.”

“I want to try something first,” Elliot said, concentrating on the task at hand as he looked away from the camera and to his other monitor.

“Can you locate your system preferences? You can find it by clicking on the appl-“

“Done. What do you want me to go into?”

Elliot looked back into the camera, then gave you a series of steps which you quickly followed.

“I am only semi-illiterate when it comes to technology,” you said, trying again to get him to smile and this time it worked.

Elliot adjusted his headset and lowered his eyes as he grinned. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve had to explain over the past few days.”

“Oh, I would absolutely believe them. I’ve talked three people in my department off a ledge just by explaining the magical powers of “Command + Z.”

Elliot chuckled, and the sound of his laughter filtering through the mic on his headset made you want to stay on the call as long as you could stretch it out.

“It looks like the program is not responding. I’ll need to take remote control of your desktop.”

“Have at it.”

You watched as Elliot worked, waiting for your mouse to start moving across the screen, but nothing happened.

“Uh, do you have any error messages on your end?”

“Nope.”

“Let me try one more thing,” Elliot mumbled, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

You sat quietly, letting him work, which gave you an excuse to just look at him and the more you looked at him, the more attractive you realized he was.

Elliot had a stylish haircut, although it looked like his fade had grown in quite a bit thanks to the lockdown. Tufts of straight black hair stood up on either side of his headset and you wondered if they’d be stiff or soft to the touch. His eyes were large, clearly the most enticing of the features of his face, except for his angular jaw that made you softly smile in appreciation of its masculinity. Elliot may consider himself “just a Tech,” but he was a damn good looking one.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you blurted out, forgetting all of your manners thanks to the lack of social interaction.

Elliot fumbled as he was typing and looked into the camera, his lips parted.

“Oh, lord. That came out . . . blunt. I asked because Matt’s been loving working from home. His wife just had a baby and even though he’s chained up in his home office at all hours of the day he still gets to spend time with the people he cares about. Which is what I was trying to ask you—if you were enjoying working from home.” You finished with an awkward laugh, and a barrage of mental curses to yourself.

Elliot’s lip turned up with a quirk. “My sister stops by to bring supplies, but I live alone.”

“Oh—well, that’s nice you have someone to interact with. I still see my sister, too.”

“I like this. Not having to interact with people.”

“The only downside is the verbal vomit you spew when talking to someone new because you no longer understand social protocol.”

Elliot laughed again, that same breathy little chuckle that upgraded from drawing your attention to making you shift in your chair.

“I’ve never been particularly adept at social protocol. Hence . . . just a Tech.”

You laughed and Elliot must have liked the sound because he stopped to watch you, his eyes flicking over your face through the camera.

“You need to update the Zoom app for me to take over your desktop. I don’t know why yours seems to have this glitch, but are you ready for the steps?”

You grabbed your pen and a fresh post-it. “Lay it on me, Tech.”

Elliot smirked, then listed the steps. “I’m going to close the call, but as soon as you’ve completed the steps, click on our Zoom link again.”

“Got it!”

Your eyes connected and lingered for just a moment before Elliot closed out the call.

You missed him immediately.

“Oh, Matt. If I had known Zoom calls could be like this, I’d have dumped you long ago.”

You shook your head to clear it and began to go through the steps Elliot had listed for you. You wanted to get this right to prove to him that you weren’t incompetent.

Having successfully, and quickly, completed all of the steps on your Post-it, you reinitiated the Zoom meeting.

“You’re quick.”

“I’m sure you’re much, much faster,” you said.

“I can only go as fast as the web connection, unfortunately,” Elliot replied, staring into his other monitor again.

“Let’s try this again—remember the steps to give me remote access?”

“I think so . . .” you said, trailing off as you began to click.

You paused, then your mouse began to move without you.

“Excellent job,” Elliot praised and you knew you wanted him to praise you again . . . preferably away from a computer, maybe in a bedroom—

“All right. So I need to delete, reinstall, and wait for an error message that’s been popping up making this a little harder for people to do themselves.”

You watched Elliot control your computer, and once he got to a point where the app was updating, he paused and turned back to the camera.

“About that girlfriend thing you asked me earlier. Are you seeing . . . anyone?”

“I was . . . about six months ago. By the time I was ready to get back on the horse, the plague struck.”

Elliot chuckled. “Not exactly the best time to start dating.”

“No,” you said softly laughing, too. “I agree with you, about the whole nice not seeing people thing, though. For me, it’s more about setting my own schedule. I get so much more done without constant interruptions just to chat.”

“Kinda like we are now?”

“Hey! We are waiting on a signal to go to space and come back. It’s only polite to give it some time so it doesn’t feel like it’s being watched—like a watched pot never boils kinda thing.”

Elliot smiled, his eyes meeting yours and lingering as you smiled back.

A new box popped up breaking your eye contact and Elliot went back to work.

“Fixed. You shouldn’t have to worry about the next update. We’ve been reporting this glitch regularly so the developers should have it fixed by then.”

“Thanks, Elliot. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s my job,” he said with a slight shrug.

“Well, enjoy the rest of your afternoon,” you said, wishing you had a reason to stay connected.

“Yeah.” Elliot replied, looking at you again with those hypnotic, grey-blue eyes. If they could impress you through a screen, imagine what they looked like in person. “You too.”

You smiled at each other and when neither of you closed the call, you both laughed, Elliot looking a little shy and you looking a little embarrassed.

“I’ll close it. Don’t forget to fill in your survey so big brother knows I did my job.”

“Five-star service, all the way!”

Elliot chuckled again, and you shivered this time, the sound of his voice working its way through your entire body, filling you with a pleasant warmth.

“Bye,” he said, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he ended the meeting.

When the session closed out, you began to think of ways to break your computer so you needed to talk to him again, but before you could pull a purposefully dumbass move like downloading a virus, a sticky note popped up on your desktop.

212 555 0179

Probably breaking work protocol, but text me sometime if you want.

~Elliot, just a Tech

“Oh my god!” you gasped, glancing up at your camera to make sure you really were disconnected, unable to shake that feeling like someone was watching you. You reached for your packet of stickers and placed a fresh one over the camera of your computer—better paranoid than sorry!

“Should I text him now? Is that desperate? Or is it mean to make him wait? Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said, pacing around your small office space.

“Just a simple hello,” you decided. “First, gotta find my phone.”

After walking through your apartment, you found your phone in the kitchen, unsurprisingly because snacking had become your favorite hobby since the lockdown began. It was a blessing and curse to be able to eat whenever you wanted.

You took your cell back to your computer and smiled again at Elliot’s virtual Post-it note and typed in his number and contact information.

Hi, Elliot ☺️

Hi, Y/N. I hope your emoji means I didn’t creep you out

That’s what this one 😱 is for

Lol. Got it. I don’t really do the emoji thing. They kinda confuse me

Well then! Maybe that’s why we met? You know all the real techy stuff, and I know all the silly techy stuff. I can teach you to emoji like a boss 😎

Sunglasses = boss? Shades? Because bosses are shady?

🤣more like the shades mean you’re just too cool to care. Like a boss attitude. But actually 🤔that’s a really great analysis!

See? Confusing 👽

Confusing as in no one knows what’s really “out there” huh? Wow. I like your way of emojiying (new word, just go with it)

Lol really?

I do!

Can I ask you something?

Sure

Which emoji makes you think of me?

👀🦋💬🧸🧨 😰📱😃

You stared at Elliot’s text, a goofy grin on your face as you tried to puzzle out his emoji story. The eyes, okay, but the rest was sort of a mystery.

Lol! I need to do this in pieces so you can tell me if I’m right or wrong

So, you saw me and thought I was nice? Pretty? Delicate?

Lol pretty

Ok. Thanks, btw. We talked and then, oh boy, this is tough. An exploding bear? Talking to me made you feel like you were going to die? This is not good.

🤣 Poor choice of the firecracker, clearly, but take them as two separate things. What do you associate with a teddy bear?

Um, childhood . . . safety? Protection?

Close! Warm, safe. You seem like a warm, safe person to talk to.

I am grinning like an idiot right now. You are so sweet. But on to the firecracker? Wait! Like sassy? Like I have a firecracker personality?

Yes! You’re funny in a forward, witty way. I guess the “She’s a real firecracker” thing might be a bit outdated.

I LOVE IT. I gotta keep going now. This part is easy, I think. Sooo even though you felt nervous, you took a chance and left me your cell, and now you know it was a good choice because you made me happy.

Almost—when you texted, it made ME happy. Hence 😃 and I have big eyes so I used the big eye happy face.

I.am.dying. That’s the cutest thing anyone has ever done over a text in the history of the world!

Lol. Is there a dramatic emoji because I don’t think anything I’ve ever done is that great.

This WAS great. I’m serious

Do you wanna maybe have dinner over Zoom? God how lame is that?

You respect the quarantine—not lame at all. I’d love to!

They let me unchain myself around 6. I’ll send you a link at 7?

Perfect! But what are we going to order? Shouldn’t we order from the same place to make it more authentic?

Do you like Chinese?

Who doesn’t?

You looked at the location Elliot sent and laughed with the irony that it was your favorite take-out spot.

How did you know that was my favorite take-out spot?

Lucky guess 🤷🏽‍♂️

Well, lucky Elliot who is just a Tech. I’ll “see” you at 7. If we order the same dinner, I’ll consider it a sign that we are meant to take over the world together by eliminating one dumbass’s access to a computer at a time 🦸‍♀️🦸‍♂️

Lol except that would leave me out of a job

We will find you something more meaningful, I promise

Make me a list 😃

You got it! Can’t wait for 7 ☺️

Me either

* * * * *

Tags: @ramimedley @clumsybookworm18 @r-ahh-mi @aboutthatmelancholystorm @alottanothing @sherlollydramoine @txmel @diasimar @hah0106 @flipper-kisses @rami-malek-trash @ramisgirl512 @dancing-disco-deacy @just-a-queen-bee @eightiesriot

Maybe a Part II?

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #female reader (but it is pretty ambiguous)#elliot alderson fanfic #elliot alderson imagine #fluff #for now #Rami Malek character #rami malek fanfiction

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avas-inner-demons-are-babies · 4 years

Text

Ohana

Ship: None (Though you may take implications as you please)

Summary: Leif has always insisted that he should be allowed to do things on his own. Well, now he’s on his own and honestly...he isn’t enjoying it. Perhaps a bit of new company can help him sort out his feelings.

A/N: Hey everyone! World’s most confused college freshman here, bringing you another MID fic that took waaay to long to get typed up. Legitimately, this has been sitting in my Google Docs for months, just taunting me. But there’s been a little less stresso in my espresso lately, so I took time to actually make myself sit down and get it done. I may not ship Ava and Leif personally, but their dynamic is just *chefs kiss*. I’ll never get over that whole “If you promise not to kill me then I won’t leave you behind.” “You’re with me till you die” scene. It makes me feel things. But anyways, this is nearly 14 full pages in G-Docs, and I hope you can all enjoy!

A/N 2.0: So apparently one of the cons of staying up late to finish a fic is forgetting to attach the actual fic itself to the post. My bad guys, here she be.

In his couple hundred years of living, Leif can proudly boast that he has done many, many things; some very common for Daemos of his age; others common to those much older than him; and there have even been a few select occasions when he has done things that even the most aged and experienced elders cannot ever claim to have done (getting exiled, befriending a prince, travelling dimensions to a world full of humans, befriending a human, living with a human, laughing with a human...the list seems to grow daily now).

However, out of all the various activities that he has taken part in throughout his life, he can safely say that people-watching has not been one of them. Back on Daemos, staring- like most other interactions, whether they be direct or otherwise- often resulted in battle; which, in turn, resulted in a lot of shouting and blood-shed. It was a silent show of disrespect and of challenge; and only idiots and warriors sought out battles willingly. And while the title of ‘warrior’ technically goes hand-in-hand with Leif’s recently earned place as a knight, the position is just that- recently earned. And despite what some may say, he is not an idiot. Considerate? Scholarly? Absolutely not. But street-smart and clever? Let’s just say he hadn’t become an infamous assassin by running solely off of reckless impulse and uneducated whims. But now, here on Earth, almost all of those skills have fallen into uselessness, and he can people-watch without any real concern for his life.

And by the Gods is he watching.

He is watching and scanning and listening and praying. Praying for a familiar face. Listening for the sound of a high voice discussing things of no importance, or for a loud, bratty complaint about anything at all; for a gentle-but-stern reprimand laced with patience, or a subtly nervous acknowledgement of some strange discomfort; even for a soft-but-proud observation of something completely obvious. Scanning for a flash of hot pink eyes or a bobbing carrot-top head of hair or a giant amidst the crowd of short humans. Watching so intensely for all of these things that the rest of the world seems to have filtered down into a watery hum.

To put it quite plainly, Leif is lost. Very lost in a very crowded place, with no idea where his group has vanished to or where he himself should (or even can) be. It had been fun at first; being able to do as he pleased; wandering wherever his whims decided to take him, stealing food from a group of small humans, kicking over trash cans, and just overall being a minor nuisance. But invigoration tends to fade very quickly when one is travelling a lot of unfamiliar terrain, and as it goes, so too does energy. It doesn’t help that they’d been at this “music festival” -as Ava had called it- for quite some time before he’d broken away from her and the others, and admittedly, he is starting to feel the strain on his feet from all the walking. In addition, the ridiculously large gathering of humans that bustle around him is beginning to leave him overwhelmed. And on top of that…

“...it’s starting to get cold” He pouts internally, suddenly rather grateful for the double-layered, long sleeve human shirt that Ava had gotten him. Ever since the Fall Festival, he’d noticed the air outside growing chillier by the day. It was starting to get to the point where their thoughtful human host unusually protective prisoner was considering going back to the Sacred Ma’all and obtaining them some “coats and hats and stuff”, to quote her specifically.

As a particularly nippy gust of winds arrives, lashing the tips of his ears as it dances through, he finds himself wishing desperately for these objects that he can not even properly picture.

Looking up at the sky, Leif can just make out the thin line of orange coating the horizon as the sun begins its lazy descent. Eyes narrowed, he decides to take a break. Plomping himself down on a nearby bench, he sighs, combing his fingers through his absolute mess of a mane.

“Ava promised.” He whispers, “She promised. They’ll be back. They have to come back.”

The city-dwelling regulars that skitter past him hardly spare a glance for the strange, mumbling man on the bench. It’s nothing they don’t already see on their daily commutes, and most would not blame them for their experienced silence. But Leif, who has no way of knowing what they know, takes their purposefully imposed ignorance as a personal offence. He feels segregated from their reality. Invisible.

Alone.

Leif hisses in a sharp breath as the word taunts him. Pressing his head into the palms of his hands, he represses a shudder. He should be used to this by now; being left to his own devices. How many times now has it been? How many betrayals and abandonments? Four? Five? More than one person should be able to count. He has been able to handle himself just fine before. So why now? Why now is he having such issues with finding his own way? He might call it ironic if he knew the meaning of the word.

“It’s because you got used to the cushy life.” A small voice in the back on his thoughts croons, “You liked being chummy with the Prince and his guard dogs. You liked that there was always food at the ready, and that you never had to worry where you were sleeping next. You liked the stability. The safety. And in time, you even came to like the laziness that this new world allowed.”

“That’s not true!” Leif barks back, not realizing how loud the proclamation was until several humans passing by wince and stumble as their paces quicken. He is sure to lower his voice as he continues to mumble to himself, “I can still take care of myself. I haven’t gone soft. I can do this.”

Taking in a long deep breath, he steels his will against the unpleasant thoughts racing around in his head. He bows his head and closes his eyes. When he opens them again a few ticks later, there’s a clear change. They’re collected. Focused.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do this.” He reassures himself, feeling some of that original vamped-up feeling return, “I’m a Daemos dammit! I don’t need some human to hold my hand! I’ll find my own way home! And then.-then I’ll kill them! I’ll kill them for leaving me!”

The mental pep talk does great things for Leif. Now enraged and brimming with confidence, breathing heavily and nearly quaking with the emotion of it all, he puts on a sneer and glares out into the crowd. His fingers flex as he summons forth his sickles, ready to swing them out at any unfortunate soul that crosses his path. He stands, his knuckles white around their hilts. The dying sunlight has no effect on him anymore. His goal is apparent in his mind. He is prepared. Determined.

He takes one strong, bold step forward…

...and is subsequently swept off his feet by the force of a group of teens pushing past him.

Nearly losing his balance, Leif’s arms flail in an attempt to regain his balance, and he immediately bumps into a young couple. As they turn on him with vicious glares, he steps away from them. Disorientation takes this chance to rush through his system. As he fumbles about, one of his sickles manages to catch on the shirt of a small child toddling by with his mother. Leif jerks one direction while the boy jerks in the other. A shirt sleeve tears, and the little one goes sprawling to the ground. An ear-piercing shriek explodes from tiny lungs. All heads turn in their direction. Wide-eyed Leif throws away his weapons and presses his hands against his sensitive ears. While staggering away from all the attention, he runs into yet another man who- being caught completely off guard- falls back into someone behind him. As the domino effect continues, the noise and panic cause the poor Daemos to go into full flight mode. Gritting his teeth, he gathers just enough control to take a flying leap over the top of the completely bewildered mob. He lands back near the bench and grasps it tightly to keep himself from falling to his knees. As he takes a seat once more, the humans are all glancing around and shouting at each other in offense. The child continues crying.

Thoroughly defeated, Leif allows his head to fall back as he slumps down into the wooden comfort. Then, he lifts it back up only to cradle it in his hands. The unwelcome tears brought on by pure fear sting at the corners of his eyes. Releasing a shaky sigh, he finally gives into the thought that he has so far been refusing to voice.

“I’m doomed.”

***

Soaring high above the head of one particularly shaken Daemos, a careless pigeon makes its way around the festival with ease. Drifting aloof above the sea of hundreds of singing and laughing humans, it follows the breeze along the street and down towards one particular block, where a vendor has been handing out pretzels. And at this moment, it just so happens that a young woman, with flowing dark hair and vibrant pink eyes, has just dropped the remaining half of her salted treat on the ground. The pigeon is quick to join several of its other brethren in tearing at the free meal to pieces, completely unaware that shock is what delivered this wonderful treat to them. Although, they learn very soon after, as said young woman lets off a loud, horrified shout. Grey feathers go flying as the band disperses in a threatened rush.

The group of men trailing behind the woman jerk in surprise.

“Princess Ava? What’s wrong?” The youngest, a concerned looking redhead, calls out.

Ava stares at her companions with a feverish look. Pointing at each of them individually, the others can hear her counting them, over and over again.

“One, two, three, four...two, three, four...three, four, four, four! Why are there only four of you!” Her voice raises in both pitch and volume, “Where’s Leif?!”

Her words seem to settle with them all at the exact same time. The tallest of the bunch, Pierce, begins flickering his gaze from face to face, searching for the former-assassin in the horde of people around them. Rhys, Noi, and Asch all turn off in different directions, then come back and share a look. They all focus on Ava, who has turned to the ground with guilt-ridden eyes.

“How could I...he was just with us not too long ago, right? Right?” Her frantic question is only met with uncertain silence from her companions. Rhys goes as far as to look away, nibbling on his ice pop, “Oh God. We have to find him! Leif!”

Ava begins pushing her way through the crowd, crying out to her missing friend. The boys stick to her like frightened ducklings as they mimic her steps. Their screams rise above the swell of music and voices.

“Leif, where are you!”

***

As his friends begin their desperate hunt a few streets away, Leif finds himself aimlessly ambling along through the park. He has discovered that there are less people back within these tree-sheltered pathways and he is grateful for it. He is on the hunt for something, although if he were asked he would not be able to say exactly what. Shelter? Company perhaps? A sign pointing home would be nice, but he can’t really read all that well, and he doubts that there is one around regardless. For a natural-born hunter, he certainly does have an awful sense of direction.

His fingers tap against his thigh as he walks. On occasion, he mumbles curses at himself for getting stuck in this situation. The night sky is clear and bright, and more than once he finds himself staring up at it, feeling as though the stars are laughing at his plight. Gaining a little comfort in the embrace of the shadows, he sticks to them, glancing over every now and again to see a straggling human stroll by. He passes the fountain where he and Ava had encountered the threatening ‘clique’;passes a large stone statue of some long-dead human frozen in time; passes what looks to be a small garden area, where brightly colored flowers glow in the moonlight.

Eventually, Leif reaches an area that he first assumes to be abandoned. The quiet and empty wrap around him like a blanket. His only company seems to be the soft glow from the scattered lampposts. The peace here cradles him in its arms and promises him safety. He’s almost relaxed, resigning to spend the night in whatever tree provides the most cover and warmth, when suddenly-

“Heya there compadre.”

Leif startles back several feet and does a neat little twirl to face the direction of the slow and kindly voice that had called out to him. How he had missed the strange human before him in his first look around is beyond Leif, but he certainly sees the man now. He sits leaning against the nearest tree with an air of remiss and a smile on his face. Upon seeing Leif’s reaction to his greeting, he puts his hands up in reassurance

“Hwoa there! Didn’t mean to startle ya friend. Just couldn’t help but notice that you were lookin’ a tad lost.”

“We’re not friends.” Leif interjects so instinctively that he nearly cuts the stranger off. Then, catching his own tongue before he says anything truly offensive, he reroutes with, “But...yeah, I am lost. I got seperated from my group a while ago and haven’t been able to find them since. And I’m not very familiar with your kingdom yet, so I can’t just go back home.”

Thanks to the poor lighting between them, the Daemos misses how the stranger’s eyebrows quirk a little at his self-correction (and yet not the use of ‘kingdom’?). But as he makes his way over to this new human, Leif does begin to take in the man’s overall messy and unkempt appearance. His long, auburn hair is wrapped up into an extremely makeshift ponytail, the length of which surpasses even that of Pierce’s or Ava’s. The many rebellious strands held back out of his face by a thick, green fabric headband that’s stretched across his forehead. It must have been made to match the long, tassled poncho that he wears, their colors the same. Beneath it, he only seems to have a miserably stained grey shirt, and pants so baggy that Leif can not imagine them being comfortable. His skin, which at first appeared to simply be naturally dark, is actually merely a deceptive tan which highlights every freckle, scar, and wrinkle. Leif is sure that if he were to touch the stranger, he might have an almost leathery feel to him. Teeth no whiter than a well-worn paperback fill in a broad smile that brings to life the creases around the edges of both the stanger’s lips and eyes. Eyes that are brown like a healthy farm soil, and seem to hold a level of spirit and life that Leif can never recall having seen in any other person before. It’s unfiltered blatancy is surprising to him.

“Well ahh, what’cha waitin’ for?” The stranger suddenly picks up the conversation, scooching slightly to the right and patting the ground beside him, “Come’n take a seat. We can vibe while the universe carries the train of life down its long tracks.”

Leif hesitates. The human before him might be a stranger, but he emits an image that reminds the Daemos of the forest spirits that could be found back in his own world. The Earth seems comfortable around him. If one squinted, it would almost seem as though the tree’s trunk and roots had warped to form a throne around him.

“He seems like a powerful sage. I should stay. Maybe he can help me.”

Nodding to himself more so than the man, Leif takes his place on the grass. This results in a wide, toothy grin on behalf of his companion, and being so close now, Leif is able to notice how one of his canines is missing.

“Joyous day! You’ll be the first bit of company I’ve had in a long time my fellow wanderer. Say now, what’s your name?”

“They call me Leif.”

“Leaf? The name of a freelancer. A young man born for travel and change. A soul that dances in the wind, its colors ever uncertain.” The man’s smile softens and his eyes stare off in Leif’s general direction, and yet seem to be staring at something miles away, “You and I, I’m sure we’re the same. I’ve had many a name myself, but most around here know me as Jingle. It’s a pleasure to meet’cha.”

Jingle holds out a hand and they shake. Leif has seen this done enough times on the tee-vee to be able to properly pull it off, even if he doesn’t quite understand the significance. Then, glancing over his shoulder, Jingle proceeds to reach back and pull, from behind the tree, a forgeign looking object.

The thing is clearly made from some kind of light and polished earth wood. Its beige surface has been very delicately carved with a swirling, wave like pattern that decorated almost the entirety of its pear shaped body. A large round hole rests a little ways above the bottom. Stretched taut up its middle and along the long arm protruding from the top are six silver strings, wrapped at both ends around small metal nubs. At the head of the arm are six knobs all turned in various directions. None of the silver pieces shine, and in fact seem quite well worn. Nearly all of the impressive wood surface is riddled with scratches.

Jingle positions the thing against his chest.

“What is that?” Leif asks, eyeing it with unease.

“This here is my trusty guitar Taylor. I know she isn’t much compared to those clunky metal demons they’re selling out there-” Here, he nods his head out in the direction of the still-ongoing festival, “-but she does me just fine. So long as I keep her pretty, she sings like an angel.”

“It...sings?”

“As sweet and humble a tune as you might ever hear. Here, have a listen.”

With his nimble fingers already poised to play, Jingle wastes no time in coaxing a tune out from the air. From the first pluck of a string, Leif finds himself utterly enraptured. Each swift movement of the human’s hand brings forth another new wave of sound so soft and breathtaking that the Daemos doesn’t even know how to process it. It is as if Jingle’s soul is completely in tune with the instrument in his grasp. Leif sits stunned, feeling the music tempt his very heart and bring prickles to his skin. A minute passes, and he soon finds himself lying completely relaxed against the tree trunk, eyes closed, and merely absorbing.

Jingle plays for some time, and for that time the two are in their own universe. It is very dark now, and Leif can feel his mind just starting to slip off in unconsciousness. His body is heavy. Connected to the very grass he sits upon by an unnamable force that he chooses to call exhaustion. When his company eventually brings the song to an end, it takes Leif a few moments to reconnect with reality. Green eyes blink several times, and turn to find that Jingle is already watching for his reaction.

“That was amazing.” Leif breathes in as soft a tone as he’s capable of.

“Jus’ like I told ya. Voice of an angel.” Jingle hums, parroting his earlier words. He shifts to place Taylor on the ground beside him. When he turns back, he finds Leif staring into the space above them with a small frown on his face, “My friend, what troubles you? The world weighs heavy on your shoulders tonight.”

“I’m not sure. I just…” Leif trails off, searching within himself for an explanation for the crushing weight in his chest, “I think I miss my friends. I keep wanting them to be here, but they probably already left. I don’t think they’re coming back for me.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes. Jingle peers off down the park path. Leif clears his throat in a battle against the tight feeling that fills it. He jumps when a gentle hand lands on his shoulder.

“Lighten your soul wanderer Leif. Everyone leaves sooner or later, but just because they’ve left doesn’t mean they are gone. Pray tell, what doubts whisper in your ear tonight?”

“Eh?”

“Why do you assume so quickly that your friends won’t return to you?”

“Oh. The way you talk is really weird, you know that?”

The human man only smiles at him, patience and expectancy in his eyes. He makes a light gesture with his hand, urging Leif to continue. And after several seconds, he does with a tamed sigh.

“I’ve had a lot of people tell me that I cause more trouble than I’m worth.” The simple admission seems to close a giant force around his ribs. As it squeezes painfully, he finds himself emptying more words than he ever knew he had been filling up with, “I know I tend to go overboard most of the time, but I never- no, I guess just lately- I mean, I haven’t been meaning to cause problems recently. Everything is just so...so calm here, and I don’t know how to live like that. Back on- I mean, back where I’m from, peace and quiet always meant something was wrong, and we hardly go anywhere or do anything, and I just get so bored! I hate just sitting around and doing nothing, but it seems like that’s all the others want to do anymore. And I know I could probably just go out for a while on my own and burn some energy but your world is so big and I just...I don’t want to end up on my own again.”

He gives a forced and pitiful huff of laughter.

“Although I guess it’s too late for that now. I’m sure they probably already went home and forgot about me. They’re probably relieved to get rid of me.”

Leif hadn’t meant to let that flooding fear leak into his words. Or that harsh scratchiness of his throat, which left breaks in his sentences. The uncomfortable rhythm of his heart and the mild shaking must be showing through as well now. It makes no sense to him. He’s only felt this terrified once before- the day they had lost Ava at the Fall Festival. And although the circumstances now are similar, he can not imagine what it is about this strange human that seems to make those insecurities rise up in ten-folds. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the others with him now. Maybe it’s because he really has no idea where to go from here.

The panic had set on him so fast the Leif didn’t properly notice it until it was being chased away by the strong and defendant strums of a guitar. The first twang brought him to a jerking halt at first. But as the singing notes continued, his mind returned to the harmless reality. He came back to find himself looking at the stars.

Jingle- as if noticing Leif’s inner plight- had picked up Taylor once again.

“It is not so easy to forget one’s friends.” He murmurs as he plays, “Do not so swiftly dismiss your own worth my snowy-haired partner. If the universe truly believes you were meant to be with these people you seek, then it will surely guide them back to you. And it sounds to me that affection has already been allowed to roost deep in your soul.”

The younger has nothing to say to that. He only closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and nods. Drawing his knees to his chest, he crosses his arms and lies down his head. All these new emotions are exhausting.

***

Ava slumps down against the frigid stone of the fountain, pulling her knees up and hiding her face in them.

“I can’t believe this.” The muffled moan that escapes her is full of pain, “How could I lose him? What kind of friend am I? God, he probably thinks we abandoned him.”

“I don’t get what you’re so worried about.” Asch harrumphs, doing a single lap around the structure before taking a seat on its edge, “We haven’t encountered anything dangerous since we’ve been here on Earth. Leif can take care of himself for one night. Why can’t we just go home? It’s cold out here and I’m tired!”

Despite his childish whining, he at least has the decency to look sheepish when she turns to glare at him.

“Well if that’s the case Asch, why don’t we just leave you out here tonight? You’re always going on about how you’re so much better than Leif anyways, so if he can make it out here on his own, then clearly you can too.” During her short reprimand, Ava stands and crosses the few steps between them. Her eyes hold a level of rage that the Daemos can never recall having seen on her before. And despite the fact that he could easily beat her in a confrontation- physical or verbal- he feels himself shrinking in shame before her petite frame.

With a satisfied huff, Ava walks several paces away. In the short time it takes her to regain her composure, her anger morphs instantly into guilt. Her posture slumps as she glances back at Asch, whose hurt expression is turned towards the concrete.

“I’m...I’m sorry Asch.” She sighs, “I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” Comes the humbled response from behind her.

“I’m just really worried about him.”

“I know.”

The next few minutes are shared in silence. The other three Daemos choose not to express a word on the exchange just yet, only shuffling about in their own thoughts. There is a level of complete loss between them. No one wants to leave Leif behind-- but Asch isn’t the only one whose focus and determination is beginning to wane.

A particularly nippy breeze blows through, causing Ava’s already shaking body to jitter violently. In a second Pierce seems to simply materialize beside her and pull her sniffling form into a warming embrace.

“Perhaps Prince Asch is right. We should go for now.” He suggests quietly as she leans into him.

“But Leif-”

“-Will be easier to find tomorrow when it is light out.” Rhys jumps in, “We are all concerned Princess Ava, but Asch does have a point. It is unlikely that Leif has found himself in any sort of real danger, and even if he has, he is a trained warrior. None of us are suggesting we abandon our search completely, but we are all at our limits. Even if we were to find Leif tonight, at this rate we may all end up sick by the morning. Please, we will follow you no matter your choice, but think reasonably.”

There’s a gentle hint of pleading in his voice that prevents Ava from denying his claims outright. She looks between all of them in turn, searching desperately for some counterargument that never comes to rise. It doesn’t take long before she finally lets herself really take in the heaviness of her own body; the stinging left in her feet from walking for so long; the need to close her eyes and rest that is becoming harder and harder to fight away. The boys watch with patience as her mind wears itself down, and they don’t miss the surrender that wins over her stature. There’s a quiet breath, then:

“...fine. Let’s just go home.”

Dear reader, have you ever managed to convince someone you love to do something they don’t want to, only to be hit with a horrible wave of guilt when they give in and agree to go through with it? Have you ever wished you could travel back in time just a few minutes, if only to stop yourself from being so damn persistent? If so, then maybe you can imagine how the Daemos boys feel at this point in time. The deep disappointment they observe in Ava’s eyes as she pulls herself from Pierce’s arms is enough to make their very souls wince. Three sets of eyes meet as their minds change almost unanimously, and Rhys can tell the other two are waiting for him to come up with some sort of clever escape. And being the man he is, he complies.

“Well, ah-just a moment Princess Ava. We...we haven’t heard from Noi yet! A decision such as this should be agreed upon by everyone present, yes? And perhaps if he believes we should stay out. Noi?”

Rhys shifts, hoping to prompt Noi into insisting that they stay. But the younger Daemos- who has been noticeably absent from the entire conversation- doesn’t appear to have even noticed his name being called. In fact, he likely missed the discussion as a whole, seeing as how he stares off down one of the darkness-swallowed paths with fully focused attention. His amber eyes sparkle with wonder. In listening closely, one may have heard him humming.

Debate temporarily forgotten, Ava and the rest focus on him with quirked eyebrows and tilted heads.

“Uhh...Noi?” Asch beacons tentatively.

“Do you hear it?” Noi whispers in response, to all of them and yet no one in particular.

“Hear what?” Ava asks, frowning, “I don’t hear anything.”

Pierce steps forward and rests his chin atop her head.

“I hear it.”

“Me too.” Asch adds after a moment.

“Me as well.”

“Wait, seriously, what are you guys hearing? It’s just quiet for me.”

“It’s music.” Rhys says, “Different from what the humans at the festival were playing. It’s quieter.”

“Softer.” Pierce adds, and the scholar nods.

“Earlier there were voices too.” Noi finishes.

“Wait, voices? But who else would be out this la-” Ava’s eyes spark up wide. Before the guys can even hit the same realization she has, she’s already gone; taking off with flying feet and a new swarm of adrenaline buzzing through her veins. “LEIF!”

“Princess Ava!” A chorus of Daemos voices rise up through the night, and they sprint, one after the other, along her trail. Her voice bounces off the surveying trees.

“Leif!”

***

“Leif!”

Two men sitting beneath a canvas on moonlit leaves jerk their heads up in unison. The elder lowers his guitar and puts on a muted, knowing smile. The younger goes tense as he strains his ears for the echoes of the voice that had rushed at them in the night. His green eyes go wide as can be, quite literally glowing with hope. He places one, prepared hand on the ground…

“Leif!”

Springing to his feet faster than should be natural, he runs only a few paces forward.

“Ava?” He breathes. The sound of rushing feet pouding closer out of the darkness causes him to gasp and with the new air in his lungs he shouts out, “Ava! Ava, I’m here!”

Leif steps into the light just as his human friend barges into its threshold. He’s tossed off his already imbalanced feet as she tumbles with a football-tackle force into him. They go down together onto the rocky ground. Ava clings desperately to his shirt, as if afraid he will vanish into thin air at the impact. Before either have fully taken to their jarring landing, he finds her burying her face into his neck, sobbing almost hysterically with relief. Her sporadic hiccups seem to be contagious, and for the first time since quite possibly his toddler days, he finds himself holding onto another person like a lifeline and shedding tears that he hardly cares if others see.

“I’m so sorry.” Ava manages through uncontrollable gasps, “I’m so, so sorry Leif.-”

“It wasn’t your fault, I’m-”

“-I didn’t mean to leave you. I just turned around and you were gone and-”

“-the one who walked off. I’m an idiot for thinking-”

“-we looked everywhere for you! We almost went home-

“-I got so lost without you-”

“-I didn’t want to, but Noi heard you and I’m just-”

“-I’m just-”

“-So happy you’re back.”

The unorganized scrambling over each other’s apologies ends with synchronization. Still sniffling, Ava lifts her head from his shoulder and meets his gaze. There’s a pause. Then broad, toothy smiles replace quivering frowns, and their foreheads press together as they share a laugh.

It’s around this time that the other four Daemos reach their position, only to find their newly reunited friends on the ground, trying to hold back bursts of giggles. The picture absolutely throws them. More so because of Leif’s bubbly demeanor than Ava’s, though both are certainly a sight to behold-- with tousled hair and dusty clothes, goosebump rippled skin now detailed with red marks where they had slid against the concrete. And yet the two grin and carry on in that way that can only be done after one’s stress-forced sense has left them, their cares evaporating into thin air. Earth truly must be turning them soft, because the once strict and stone-cold warriors- upon surveying the scene- give genuine smiles of their own.

It takes a little bit of time before the pair actually settle down enough to sort themselves out and stand once again. Even then, Ava makes sure to link her arm with his, swearing inwardly to never let him out of her sights again. Leif on the other hand, does his best to recollect himself, not wanting to give the others any more reason to pester him later about the blatant displays of emotion. He hides his flushed face in his sleeve, pretending to wipe a smear of dirt off his face.

‘It’s nice to see you again.” Rhys says with only a hint of scolding behind his words, “Though if you ever run off like that again, you’re finding your own way home.”

“That’s fair.” Leif replies with a shrug of his shoulders. He doesn’t miss how Ava studies his reaction from the corner of her eye.

“Did you miiiss us?” Asch drawls mockingly, stepping forward with a smirk on his face. Despite the remark, he gives Leif a friendly knock on the shoulder- a habit he’d unknowingly picked up a few weeks ago.

Leif only scoffs, but it tells them all they really need to know. He looks downwards briefly and mumbles something that only the young Prince seems able to hear. Asch blinks in recoil, then replaces his cheeky grin.

“What was that?” He asks incentively, “I don’t think we all heard you.”

Leif growls a low growl.

“I said-ugh-thanks for...looking for me.” Then, adding on more softly, “It’s nice to know you guys actually cared enough to find me.”

“Well duh.” Ava’s response causes him to lift his head in her direction, “I made you a promise didn’t I?”

His mind flashes back to that day they were shopping for decorations. He’d almost convinced himself it was a dream.

“Yeah. I guess you did.”

“Besides-!” Suddenly, Noi appears in front of him, beaming in the friendly boyish way that used to get him mocked back on Daemos, “You’re one of us! No man left behind, right?”

“I-”

“Exactly.” Rhys cuts him off in affirmation, “Despite your chaotic personality and violent tendencies, you are still an important part of our group.”

“You-”

“Yeah.” Asch sighs, carefully selecting his next few words, “I’m not sure where we’d be without our healer honestly. And...I will admit that you’re the only one here who’s any fun to spar with.”

“Yes.” Finally, Pierce, “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

As Leif gapes at all of his friends in turn, something new solidifies within him. See, when Asch had saved him from execution all those years ago, the Prince had earned his life. And with that, over time, there came undying loyalty. But it was always saved for Asch alone. The others had been tolerable companions at most, at least until they got to Earth.

Then came along Ava, who unintentionally became their focal point. She was important to him- to all of them. But he wouldn’t have died for her. Not at the start. That problem arose when she became fond of them, and they- in turn- of her. It only took a couple weeks after Leif had admitted to himself that she was actually rather preferable company, that he seemed to swear away to her the same things he had gifted Asch. His life. His loyalty. Fresh off the line went his affection as well. And although at this point, he was close to the other Daemos, he still felt separate. A product of his own mind and the upbringing that was so very different from their own.

It’s taken until now for that last link to click into place. That camaraderie which he’d been lacking now swarms through his morals and rearranges itself among those mental pieces. He feels some of his outlooks shifting. Most importantly, a single, powerful thought plants itself in his mind and takes root.

“They want me.”

His chest swelling, the most Leif can manage is, “Thank you.”

The sound of quiet shuffling a few feet away accidentally breaks through the touching moment. The emotional bunch all turn their attention to a man standing like a startled cat beneath a nearby tree. Clearly, he had meant to scuttle away unnoticed.

“Who is he?” Noi asks.

“Oh that’s Jingle.” Leif tips his head in the direction of the musical man, who has gathered his meager belongings in his arms. At the mention of his name, he winces slightly and gives a wave, “He’s been letting me sit with him. He's pretty cool for a human. The way he talks is weird though.”

Now, Ava, the Earth and city specialist of the group, immediately recognizes Leif’s apparent companion as a member of a nomadic homeless community that had just taken its annual place in one of the far back corners of the park. She’d never spoken to the man in true conversation, but she can recall exchanging a few words with him last year after she’d heard him playing the exact same guitar he now cradles to his chest. He had an impressive talent that convinced her to deliver him several dollar bills and whatever meager change she managed to hold onto after her sparse commutes to the mall or grocery store. She can vouch for the fact that he does say some fairly strange things on occasion. However…

“Hey, you’re that chill guitar man I met last year.” She says, hoping to spark some comfort in his cautious air, “Have you really been hanging out with Leif this whole time?”

Jingle nods, shifting into a more permanent stance.

“You didn’t have to do that. But I’m thankful that you did.” She smiles warmly, “Honestly, I was worried he might have gotten himself into trouble.”

“It was no problem young miss.” Jingle makes the effort to reply, “I’d seen you all together early in the day, and happened to catch my fellow wanderer out on his own. He looked like he could use someone to hold him steady until his world righted itself again.”

“Ah...yeah. I don’t doubt that he did.” Digging into her pockets, Ava pulls out five dollars- the sole remnants of cash that was pretty much all spent on food, “Here, please take this. It isn’t nearly as much as you deserve, but it’s all I have.”

The older human steps forward to accept the money from her outstretched hand with a grateful expression. Immediately after pocketing it, he spins back around in the other direction and walks away into the night. Ava silently determines to continue her tradition from before if she can manage to find him again in the coming weeks. But before any of that-

“Come on you guys. Let’s get home.”

#aphmau my inner demons #aphmau mid #mid ava #mid leif #mid noi #mid asch #mid rhys #mid pierce #mid fanfiction #aphmau fanfiction #there's also a sort of OC in this one #Which is really just a humanized version of Jingle from Hamtaro #because #a- childhood #and b- he was exactly the type of character I wanted for this fic #there's also a hint of dance man from Wandersong in him as well #please forgive me #I just live for vibing nomad characters #Thank you all for reading!

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tuffduff · 4 years

Text

Road to Being Gone (Nikki Sixx x Reader x Izzy Stradlin)

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Words: 2,046

Request: @harryroger12 “Hey I was wondering if you could do a nikki imagine where he cheats on the reader and years later like in 89 he sees her dating Izzy Stradlin and sees how happy her and Izzy are and gets jealous. Sorry did bothering you ❤️”

A/N: Okay, don’t get it twisted; I love me some Nikki too. I definitely don’t harbor any ill feelings towards him, it’s all fiction :) Thanks for the request love, you’re never a bother! ❤️

Taglist: @ubernoxa ❤️

“Nikki?” This was the 3rd place you had checked tonight—catering—and you were only met with negative shakes of heads and various clueless looks.

Nikki was your boyfriend of almost a year (in fact, you had saved up almost enough to buy him a new bass for your upcoming anniversary) and you had joined him on the Girls, Girls, Girls tour. At first, things had been an exhilarating whirlwind, but lately, Nikki had been distant. He had been all about you at the beginning of the tour, never leaving your side, exploring new cities together and waking up in new hotel rooms…now you were lucky if he came back to your room at all at the end of the night.

Of course, he and his band partied and drank and whatnot; you knew what you had signed up for. It wasn’t like you condoned it, but what exactly could you do? At least there was never a lack of love or devotion. Or so you thought.

“Oh! Tommy, Vince—have you guys seen Nikki?” You were relieved at the sight of two of Nikki’s band mates, but quickly grew confused by the looks they exchanged with each other.

“Tommy, have you seen him? Ah…sorry, Y/N, I haven’t seen him all night.” Vince said, not looking you in the eye.

“Have you tried catering?” Tommy suggested. The both of them were trying to walk away slowly.

“Yeah. That’s where I’m coming from, I just can’t find him.”

“Sorry, Y/N. We haven’t got a clue.” Vince said. You sighed a little to yourself as they walked away, crestfallen and truthfully uncertain of where to go now.

“It’s probably none of my business but…” You jumped at a voice behind you and turned, noticing Izzy Stradlin leaning against the wall. He and his band, Guns N’ Roses, were supporting Motley Crue on this leg of the tour. Izzy was an interesting guy, kind of a mystery; the two of you had never even had a conversation until now, you were surprised he even knew who you were. “They’re lying to you.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, the tiniest pit of worry developing deep in you stomach.

“Have you tried Vince’s dressing room?” He replied, matter-of-fact seriousness on his face. You frowned a little to yourself.

“No. I checked Nikki’s dressing room, why would I check Vince’s?”

“It’s not like he would be somewhere you could find him.”

“And why wouldn’t he?” Izzy looked down a little, shielding his face from yours. “What are you trying to say? Do you know something I don’t?”

“Unfortunately.” He murmured, pulling out a cigarette and walking the few paces to stand at your shoulder. “Guys talk, sometimes too much. You hear a lot. And I just have a problem with guys disrespecting a beautiful good girl who doesn’t know any better.” You blinked, confused with every word that came from his mouth.

“I need you to be really clear with me,” you began slowly. He blew out smoke, a grim look on his face as he jerked his head.

“I can show you better than I can tell you.”

And that’s how you caught your boyfriend in the act with some groupie who had managed to get backstage. You screamed, you cried out of both anger and betrayal, but the worst part was how Nikki hardly seemed to care. He let you walk away without so much of a word, he merely waved his hand at you dismissively, as if you were complaining over him not taking out the trash. It was like you never knew him and everything suddenly felt very foreign. A mix between what was once familiar suddenly being lost, like losing the ground beneath your feet.

You made your way back to his dressing room to gather your belongings and get the hell out, halfway blinded by tears, but you could tell Izzy was still behind you, offering no words.

“Why are you still here, do you want some kinda tip or something?” You snapped at him. “You probably think I’m stupid as fuck, just like the rest of them. I bet they’ve known for months now. My mom even tried telling me, I would just tell her ‘no, mom. Not Nikki. He isn’t like the rest.’” If you were more aware, you would have been embarrassed by your lack of filter to someone who was practically a stranger. To Izzy’s credit, he listened sympathetically, letting you get it all out. “God…I’m so stupid. To think he could actually love someone like me.”

“Hey,” you were surprised when Izzy spoke up sharply. He made his way over to where you were crumbled on the ground and knelt down beside you. “You’re not stupid for thinking that. You’re not stupid for hoping that, for wanting that. You should expect that. And that’s his fault for not living up to it. You’re an amazing woman, you shouldn’t settle for anything less than what you deserve.”

“You don’t even know me,” you whispered in despair, a few stray tears still slipping down your cheeks. To both your surprise and fascination, you watched a strange pink color flood his cheeks as he chuckled awkwardly and looked to the ground.

“Yeah, I know.” He muttered, peeking up at you through his hair. “But I wish I did.”

It took you a long time to get over your initial shock and heartbreak. It took you even longer to get rid of that moment with Izzy, and soon, he was all you thought about. And right when you thought you were going crazy, dreaming of some strange and maybe a missed connection, you got a phone call.

“Is this Y/N?”

“This is she, who’s this?” You heard a relieved and breathless laugh on the other end.

“It’s really you; man, you wouldn’t believe the detective work I’ve had to do just to get your number. I didn’t even know your last name. All I knew was Y/N. I’ve been trying to find you since the last night I saw you.” You felt your breath catch in your throat.

“Izzy?” You asked, hearing him laugh a little again.

“I even had the guys in my band helping me.” You smiled a little, already melting a bit inside. How many times had you dreamed of this? “How have you been doing? I know it’s rough after a break-up, I was hoping you weren’t taking it too hard.”

It was a surprise. Truthfully, you had been expecting him to ask you out immediately, but he hadn’t. You would’ve said yes too, but he was more focused on your well-being.

“I’ve been great, actually. I mean, it was hard at first. I think the worst part was him making me doubt myself, you know? Sometimes I would catch myself wondering why I wasn’t enough, but I knew when I did that I was being stupid.”

“It had nothing to do with you. Like I said, some guys just don’t know what they have in front of them.” You nodded to yourself on the line, tangling the cord between your fingers and feeling butterflies beginning to flutter in your stomach. “You know, for the record, I didn’t like being that guy. But I wasn’t about to let you keep thinking he actually cared when he didn’t. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I never got to say thank you.” You murmured. Suddenly, you could feel your heart pounding and you held onto the cord tighter. “Listen…I know you’re probably really busy, but…if you ever have free time, I’d really like to see you.” You cringed, thrown off by your spontaneous wave of bravery.

The line was silent for a while and you almost hung up out of the crippling embarrassment. “Are you asking me on a date?” He finally asked. You swallowed, trying to cure your dry throat.

“I-If you want it to be.” You replied shakily. “I mean, I, you know, we can be just friends if you prefer, if you’re not interested—”

“Woah, woah.” You heard him cut you off with a soft laugh that made the butterflies grow stronger. “I’d really like that. I’m almost kind of relieved, I was thinking about asking you, but I just thought it would be a dick move, and I wasn’t really sure if you were ready for that…I was prepared to wait.” Your heart soared and you knew you were already on the road to being gone, lost in this wonderful man.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.”

The both of you clicked immediately and suddenly everything in your life made sense, why it had all happened with Nikki, what a real, healthy, relationship was supposed to be like, not one built on flimsy infatuation and illusions. You and Izzy took it slow, but it was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that you were both already deeply in love, despite not even saying it for months. You waited for the butterflies to go away, but they never did; you had never been so happy.

Fast forward two years and people closest to you wouldn’t stop asking when you were going to get married, when were you going to have kids…You and Izzy even bought a house together with more rooms and space than you needed; a promise for your future family. He had even quietly given you a ring, another promise for your future.

You had accompanied Izzy to the VMA’s in 1989, and had the pleasure of watching him perform from backstage, glowing with pride, when you heard your name from behind you.

“Y/N?” It was an old voice that brought familiarity you didn’t want to remember. You never expected to face Nikki again. He looked so different—sober, you realized. More tattoos, a healthier glow to his skin, and a bright look in his clear eyes at the sight of you.

“Oh…hi, Nikki.” You murmured uncomfortably. Nikki stepped towards you as though he were in a daze, eyes quickly filling with a million questions.

“You look great,” he breathed, before he chuckled awkwardly. “I, uh…would offer you a hug but maybe I should offer you a free punch. I know I was a real dick to you.”

“Yeah.” You muttered. “It’s fine, Nikki, really. It’s in the past…” You replied, glancing back towards the stage.

“It isn’t fine, Y/N. I wasn’t in the right state back then. I was in denial; I had no idea how bad I had gotten. And I didn’t even realize how good I had it when I had you, but when I did, it was too late.”

“There’s no hard feelings.” You told him again, dismissively.

“I just want to apologize. You didn’t deserve any of that. I was so stupid, Y/N.”

“To be honest with you, Nikki, I’ve moved on already. I haven’t really given it much thought, so it’s all cool now.”

“You’ve moved on…?” He trailed off when his eyes landed on Izzy, returning to your side finally from the stage. Izzy hadn’t yet noticed Nikki and wrapped an arm around your shoulder and placed a kiss to your head.

“Ready to go, babe?” He asked you, slightly stiffening when he caught sight of Nikki.

You watched Nikki suddenly get the picture, his eyes landing on the ring you wore on your wedding finger and back up to Izzy’s arm now wrapped protectively around your waist. It was the first time you had ever seen pain in his eyes, the first time Nikki Sixx ever gave proof he had a heart.

“Ah…” Nikki muttered curtly, looking Izzy up and down. For a moment, you held your breath, waiting for him to cause a scene. You could tell he was fighting some inner battle in his head, weighing his options. Finally, he started stepping back and took one last look at you. “...Guess I get it now. Well, it was nice seeing you, Y/N.” He murmured, uncharacteristically humbled as he walked away, still casting a look over his shoulder at Izzy who remained unbothered.

“What’s he talking about?” Izzy asked you curiously. You let out the breath you had been holding and leaned up to kiss his lips.

“That I deserved better and finally got it.”

#stradlin sunday #izzy stradlin #izzy stradlin imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #gnr #gnr imagine #nikki sixx #nikki sixx imagine

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #229: FINAL CURTAIN!

March, 1983

"THIS IS IT! Henry Pym’s Last Stand Against... THE EVIL OF EGGHEAD!”

Why does this have Egg Fu energy? Obviously very much less racist but giant egg shaped head looming over things...

Please don’t grow a mustache, Egghead.

Wow, this arc has been going on for a while. With a lot of interruptions, mind.

But we had Hank rejoin the Avengers, do a bad job, build a robot to murder his friends to try to make them forget the first bad job he did, get kicked out of the Avengers, and got tricked by Egghead into committing treason and arrested. Egghead decided to take over the world via inventing eternal youth, put together a new Masters of Evil who immediately got their asses kicked, and then the Masters kidnapped Hank from his trial.

All to bring us to the Final Curtain, which is similar but legally distinct from the Final Countdown.

I’ve seen some sad Hanks but I think “framed into being a fugitive and forced to do science for his worst enemy” Hank is the saddest looking Hank.

He has a thousand yard stare WHILE carefully considering a chemical compound.

This is possibly because while he sciences, Egghead is hanging right over his shoulder being excessively chipper and calling Hank “partner.”

Hank: “I’d love to shove those words down his throat! It’s galling enough to be working for my oldest enemy, without having him call me ‘partner.’”

Guy also puts his hand on Hank’s shoulder chum-style and offers to get him some breakfast while Hank probably fantasizes about making scrambled eggs.

Later that morning, over in New Orleans, Monica Rambeau!

I’m still very hype about Monica Rambeau finally being in this book.

She’s sitting around in her nice home watching the news about the trial and the “dramatic escape” of Hank Pym and also Iron Man has disappeared. That’s on the news too.

Monica: “Uh-oh! I don’t like the sound of that! A disappearance, now of all times, by any of the regular Avengers could mean heavy trouble! Someone’s bound to accuse them of helping in Dr. Pym’s escape! It might not be a bad idea to look in on my new friends -- as Captain Marvel!”

She nyooms light speed from New Orleans to the Avengers Mansion.

Inside, Cap and Thor are discussing how neither Iron Man or Tony Stark have been seen in nearly a week. And Cap is worried because its not like Tony.

But he has to stop talking when Monica comes in because she’s not in on the secret.

Captain Marvel: “Hi, hope I’m not interrupting anything. I thought I’d drop by and... well... see how everyone was doing.”

Thor: “In truth, woman, the Avengers have known happier times.”

Captain America: “I’m afraid Thor’s right, Captain. A former Avenger’s disgrace is national news. Iron Man’s vanished. And the She-Hulk may be no more. Things... aren’t good.”

Monica is kind of taken aback by this because “These are two of the most capable men I’ve ever met! If they’re feeling down and out, what hope is there for the rest of us?”

Meanwhile, in specifically the second-floor study, Hawkeye is sitting with Jennifer Walters Not-Hulk and the Wasp.

And Hawkeye is surprised that She-Hulk’s other self is “so small and... fragile.”

Wasp is trying to reassure Jen that they want to help her but Jen is feeling helpless.

Jen: “I-I know that, Janet. .. B-b-but I still feel so helpless. Things seemed different when I was the She-Hulk! She could handle everything -- or so I thought! She didn’t do much against the Radioactive Man, did she? One blast of charged gamma rays from him, and my life as the She-Hulk was a thing of the past!”

I mean, I wouldn’t say not much. She-Hulk tossed Radioactive Man around pretty easily before the gamma blast.

Wasp tells her that the gamma-charge must have worn off by this point but Jen is too afraid to try again because she can’t face the thought of another failure and what that might mean.

She kiiiiinda blew up her life back in California to go be She-Hulk full-time. The comic doesn’t point this out but I am. She kinda blew off her supporting cast and law career to go on a cross-country trip and then moved to New York for brunch and Avengers.

Wasp is called away by Jarvis, who says there’s an urgent caller for her, leaving Jen alone with Hawkeye.

... Which, may have been a bad idea or at least a very hilarious one.

Hawkeye: “I can’t believe what’s happening to the Avengers! We’ve had bad breaks before, but this -- ! Even ol’ Cap’s been looking like one of the walkin’ wounded! I need to do something to get us back on our feet! Maybe I can start with the little lady.”

Y’know, Captain Marvel and Hawkeye both noting how dire things are feeling around the Mansion is doing a really good job at selling this as one of their darkest moments.

Nobody ever talks about this as one of those moments but the comic is making a good case for it.

At the front door the urgent matter is! SCOTT LANG!

Sight for sore eyes!

He’s here on an errand for Mr. Stark. But unfortunately he also has no idea where Tony has gotten.

Scott Lang: “All of Stark International’s in an uproar! First, Mr. Stark asks me to finish up one of his rush projects for the Avengers -- something he never does! Then he and that iron-clad bodyguard of his pull a disappearing act! And now, the tube is full of news about Hank Pym running off with something called the Masters of Evil! Wasp... what’s going on?”

Wasp: “I honestly don’t know, Scott! Sometimes I’d swear that the whole world is falling apart on us!”

Hey! More dialogue really selling how dire things are!

Scott gives her the project Tony had him complete and tells Wasp that Tony told him that Cap would know about it.

Which indicates that Scott finished this project and doesn’t know what it is or does. Wow.

He also offers to change into Ant-Man and lend a hand but Wasp hurries him out the door and slams it behind him.

Which is a rude way to treat a Scott Lang but in Wasp’s defense she couldn’t bear seeing someone dressed as Ant-Man when she has all these Hank feelings.

Captains America and Marvel and also Thor wander in. Cap(tain America) is telling Monica that there’s nothing they can do until they get a lead on Hank’s whereabouts.

Wasp, who was just handed a thing and told that Cap would know about it, hands it to Cap and asks him if it would be any help.

Cap(tain America) recognizes it as the miniaturized version of the cerebral scanner helmet that Tony was working on.

Captain America: “It was Iron Man’s theory that Hank’s recent problems were due to preset commands Moondragon had telepathically planted in his mind. This helmet was supposed to check that out. Now... I guess we’ll never get a chance to use it.”

This defeatism is finally a defeatism too far for Monica who blows up at the Avengers.

Captain Marvel: “Hey, just a darned minute! Is this the Avengers that I’m supposed to be joining, or an encounter group? I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Look, I know you’ve been through an emotional wringer for the past couple of months, but you can’t let it get to you like this! You folks don’t get much press west of the Hudson River, but what little word that does filter out is filled with awe! You’re the Avengers! You’re legends -- every one of you! You’ve probably saved this poor world more times than anyone can even guess! And you can pull through this crisis, too! But not if you keep acting the way you’ve been!”

Huh, more of a ‘dare to be badass’ than a real dressing down.

Also, its so weird that the Avengers are simultaneously a weird New York thing and also known for saving the world multiple times.

Thor, as Thor do when anyone dares to criticize him, gets indignant but Wasp interrupts that whole impending shouting match and asks what Captain Marvel has in mind.

(This is why Wasp is a good leader, by the by)

Captain Marvel says they should try to look at things from another angle. What if, and hear her out, what if Hank really was set up by Egghead like he claimed to be before the trial?

Egghead is dead? THE AVENGERS FIGHT PEOPLE THAT HAVE BEEN ASSUMED DEAD A LOT, YOU GUYS.

Geez, where has Monica been? She’s a breath of fresh thought on this team.

Monica also has another galaxy brain idea. Slash probably turn of phrase that inspires a galaxy brain idea. Like in a mystery where an innocuous statement cracks the whole thing WIDE OPEN.

Captain Marvel: “And this man you caught -- the Shocker -- the one who claims that Pym reorganized the Masters of Evil to free him -- maybe he’s the one who’s crazy, instead of Dr. Pym! Maybe it’s the Shocker who should have his head examined!”

And Cap(tain America) is like hey I just got this head examining helmet from Tony!

Meanwhile, in the second floor study, Hawkeye has decided to Help.

Be afraid.

Nah, just funning.

Look, this is all perfectly in character for Hawkeye and for Hulks in general. He’s just going to be extremely rude (he has trained his whole life for this) and make fun of Jen until something happens.

And he is pretty rude.

So rude that she smeks him across the face. But because she hasn’t had her Jen training arc yet, Hawkeye just laughs at her.

So she hits him again.

Hawkeye: “My, my! Both cheeks slapped and I’m still on my feet! Is that the best you can do, She-Wimp?”

Then he laughs and laughs and gets punched out of the room by a furious She-Hulk.

He quickly begs for peace, claiming he didn’t mean what he said.

So in the end, all she needed to break the mental block preventing her from turning into She-Hulk was Hawkeye being even more obnoxious than usual.

He does have his uses. Shoots arrow, pisses people off, apparently fun to be around??

Its hard to imagine future burned out trash-fire Clint Barton doing this. He’s much more mellow in how he’s obnoxious now. Although, he roasted Tony Stark good in the Freefall mini.

Y’know, She-Hulk and Hawkeye are friends later. And I don’t know if that’s because She-Hulk becomes everyone’s friend when she moves into more fun party She-Hulk territory. But I can also imagine that despite not liking each other much to begin with, She-Hulk and Hawkeye just grow on each other.

When Wasp praises Jen for being able to transform again, She-Hulk admits that Hawkeye helped.

Then Cap tells them to stop goofing, they’ve got business.

And the business is at the federal lock-up.

The Avengers want to use Tony Stark’s special cerebral scanner helmet on Shocker. His lawyer is like hell no. Shocker himself is like I’m down for whatevs.

Shocker: “Hey, if they want to plunk that pressure cooker on my noggin, it’s okay by me! I’m facing a pretty stiff federal rap, after all. I’m willing to cooperate. It doesn’t bother me. If I passed the polygraph test, I can pass this!”

The lawyer still protests so She-Hulk whips out some of her ol’ legal expertise. Which she is not licensed to practice in a professional capacity in the state of New York.

She-Hulk: “Your boy was caught participating -- in either a kidnapping or an escape -- in full view of witnesses. He’s in big trouble. The scanner helmet will tell us if he’s been manipulated by outside forces. And cancel any mental blocks or false memories. Now, wouldn’t you like to go into court with something that could prove your client was used against his will?”

... I’m baffled that this new technology whose inventor has gone missing could just easily be used as evidence in court.

Like, on who’s word are they saying that this device works? Has it been vouched by anyone? How do they even know that it works at all? It was finished by Scott Lang who is a good electrical engineer but didn’t know what he was working on!

But if I can believe a man can fly, I’ll buy this.

And its funny, Shocker goes from ‘yeah I doubt this will mean anything’ to immediately remembering and spilling the beans that he was set up by Egghead.

Which means that he’s alive and Hank’s defense has merit. God damn!

I like that the cerebral helmet does factor into the plot, even if in an unexpected way. Poor, disappeared Tony Stark’s feverish throwing himself into this project out of a guilty drive to help Hank will help Hank, in some way!

Meanwhile, in the secret and sinister suburban lair of Egghead’s Masters of Evil, Hank Pym brushes off his hands and goes ‘yup I’ve finished inventing your eternal life machine, can I go now?’

Egghead and the Masters call BS because its been three days. No way did Hank already finish the machine. Egghead was thinking it would be months of research before Hank could even begin working on a design.

Hank: “Admittedly, I was lucky in stumbling upon a breakthrough in micro-cellular reconstruction. But then, you did bring me here to produce results. That’s what I’ve done.”

Moonstone asks how close an eye Egghead kept on Hank, since Egghead is the only one truly familiar with the project.

The answer is: not very!

So now they’re worried that if they plug someone into the device, it’ll just kill them.

Tiger Shark goes ‘hey lets just test it on Hank’ and Hank goes ‘yeah whatever.’

Hank: “I stand behind my work 100%. I’ll be your guinea pig, if you’re all so afraid of gaining a long and vital life!”

Egghead: “Don’t use that tone with me, Henry Pym! I think I might enjoy using you as a guinea pig! Strap him in, boys -- good and tight!”

Tiger Shark, whose idea this was in the first place, suddenly considers ‘what if this is a long and weird way for Hank to commit suicide?’ but Hank says he would have ended it three days ago if he was that tired of living.

Egghead: (He’s right. As dispirited as Pym has been, he never became suicidal. Despite all the travails I put him through, I was never able to break him that completely. Pity. Perhaps I’ll try again... after the test.)

GOOD GRIEF EGGHEAD

I know that you’re evil and petty but geez that’s a new low.

Then again, this is the guy who blew up his niece’s arm out of spite.

So, yeah, driving to suicide the guy that made your eternal youth technology possible is about what I’d expect of you, Egghead.

The worst.

When they have Hank strapped into the longevity machine and switch it on, Hank starts to glow.

Which is probably not what is supposed to happen.

Also what is not supposed to happen, the machine creates a force field around Hank.

And also overrides the guidance systems in Beetle’s armor, making him fly all over the place bonking into stuff.

I have a sneaking suspicion that this isn’t actually a longevity machine!

No, in fact, Hank Pym played them all by going ‘yeah sure throw me into the briar patch, I don’t give a shit.’

Tiger Shark tries to rip Hank out of the machine but gets thrown away with a ZZAKK.

Moonstone tries her luck too.

Moonstone: “Your electrified field is very effective against brute force, doctor -- but can it resist a high-intensity laser blast?”

-it does-

Hank: “You tell me!”

The sass!

The lasers deflect off the field joining the bouncing Beetle in destroying the lab.

Egghead has duck and covered beneath a table and demands one of the Masters stop Hank.

A call to action that Radioactive Man takes up, charging the machine.

Radioactive Man: “You are even more capable than I thought, Dr. Pym. But your miraculous fields will not long withstand the power of my nuclear heat!”

Hank: “Probably not! But it doesn’t have to! I’ve had days to prepare defenses against all of you!”

Cadmium-plated tentacles come out of the machine and grab Radioactive Man.

Geez, really nobody was making sure Hank wasn’t up to anything so he got away with everything!

The cadmium dampens Radioactive Man’s radioactive so Hank uses him to knock out Tiger Shark.

Ah, yes. I do love a good grievous harm with a body instance.

Moonstone: “Incredible! Together, we possess nearly as much raw power as the Avengers themselves -- and yet one man has nearly overcome us in a matter of minutes!”

And since she’s Moonstone and practically the only supervillain who knows when to fold ‘em, she tries to skedaddle.

But Hank also built disruption stunners into the not-longevity machine’s manacles, like the ones he used as Yellowjacket, and he blasts Moonstone as she tries to flee.

Leaving Egghead to gape that Hank has singlehandedly defeated his Masters of Evil!

MEANWHILE, up in suburbia, the Avengers!

Remember them? They’re the title of the book.

Shocker spilled the beans to the Avengers because, honestly, fuck Egghead for using him as a patsy. So the Avengers and some copspolice have assembled outside Egghead’s secret house.

The cops are to evacuate the neighborhood in case the Avengers need to do a big punch-up.

Caring about bystanders, a thing that the Avengers do some of the times.

The Avengers also got the house plans from the county records office because they’re doing this raid right.

Problem is, they’re unlikely to be accurate because they don’t have an evil lair listed on them.

So Cap and Wasp are strategizing, planning to surround the house and work their way in slowly and quietly so the Masters don’t use Hank as a hostage.

Then everything explodes. And by everything, I mean the yard of the house.

Beetle burst out from underground, completely ruining the lawn and flies around out of control.

He warns the Avengers that he can’t control his flight and tells them to look out.

The Avengers mostly jump out of the way.

Mostly.

Thor just stands still with his hammer held out for Beetle to run into so hard that Mjolnir seems to disappear.

Beetle falls to the ground, all momentum instantly converted into horrific agony.

Like seriously. He’s going to be feeling that forever. No wonder he later jumps at the chance to flip good, rather than ever experience that again.

Wasp and Cap(tain America), strategy geniuses, decide that at this point, stealth is pointless but Hawkeye is way ahead of them.

I don’t see him in the panel where the Avengers scatter or in the panel where Beetle is falling off Thor’s fist so I think that the instant the ground exploded Hawkeye was like ‘this hole was made for me’ and immediately jumped down it to leeroy jenkins the rescue Hank plan.

Its a very him thing to do.

Plus, as he muses to himself, he has his own score to settle with Egghead.

I.e., that time that Egghead killed his brother Barney Barton. The crime brother? From the time we learned that Hawkeye actually had a name?

That time.

At the bottom of the exit wound Beetle left in the house, Hawkeye peeps in and is astounded to find the Masters of Evil lying defeated in various heaps with Hank Pym standing victorious over them, casually unhooking himself from the not-longevity machine.

As Hawkeye watches, Hank tells Egghead that he can come out of hiding because its all over.

And then delivers a massive ‘the reason you suck’ speech to Egghead, which coming from Hank Pym is doubly biting because Hank Pym knows what a trashfire he’s made of his own life and still says Egghead is worse.

Hank Pym: “I did a pretty good job of screwing up my life recently. You just about finished the job for me! You used me, Egghead... and you tried to make me criminal! But you couldn’t. You see, I’ve come to terms with myself in the past month. I know who I am, and who I’m not! I’m not Ant-Man anymore. I’m not Giant-Man... or Goliath... or Yellowjacket! I’m Henry Pym!

“And it was Henry Pym who beat the Masters of Evil! You, Egghead... you turned to crime because you thought your scientific knowledge made you better than everyone else... put you above the law! But you were wrong. You weren’t above the law, and you weren’t better! I’m the better scientist... I just proved that!”

“I assembled the pieces of your downfall -- right under your nose!”

Egghead takes exception to being told how much he sucks, and leaps at Hank to, I guess, try to beat him up, saying he hasn’t beaten Egghead yet.

So Hank beats Egghead yet.

Hank: “Oh... I was hoping you’d try that!”

After all that Hank’s been through in this vague arc and at the hands of Egghead, it is very satisfying to effortlessly turn the tables on the villains, deck Egghead, and prove that while he has spotty success as a superhero, he’s no villain.

This vague arc has broken Hank down to nothing. He ruined his marriage, his superhero career, abandoned his science career as fruitless. He was broke, so desperate as to take a loan from his arch-nemesis. Framed for treason and left to pay for Egghead’s adamantium scheme. Sent to jail and derided as worse than the supervillains there. Worse for having fallen from grace. Gave up winning back his wife after seeing her date one of his friends. Abandoned hope for anything but to win back his dignity and good name in a court of law. Had that taken from him as well.

And stripped of absolutely everything, Hank Pym proved that he is one of the finest scientists in Marvel, a crafty SOB, and owner of a dynamite right hook.

Then with Egghead sprawled on the floor, Hank turns to leave.

But Egghead is a petty, petty, evil, evil man. That hasn’t stopped being a thing so he pulls out a science gun to shoot Hank in the back.

Hawkeye jumps out of the beetle hole and shoots an arrow in the barrel of the science gun, making the science gun backfire kirby krackle.

Hawkeye: “Brother, that was close -- but everything’s gonna be okay now, Hank! We have all the evidence we need to clear you and put that creep behind bars!”

Hank: “Egghead won’t be serving any time, Hawkeye. He’s dead.”

DUN DUN DUN

Hawkeye, you’ve become a killer! And it didn’t even take a Bendis to drive you to it!

Well, maybe a man-slaughterer...

Follow @essential-avengers because I bring you the good Hank Pym content. The Hank Pym punching Egghead content. The best content. Also like and reblog, possibly. For the Hawkeye man-slaughtering Egghead content.

#Avengers #Egghead #Masters of Evil #Hank Pym #essential avengers #essential marvel liveblogging #Captain America #Captain Marvel #monica rambeau #Thor #she hulk #the Wasp #Hawkeye #somehow a very effective and helpful person in this issue #Thor is the world's most effective speedbump #Iron Man helps from off panel #don't mess with Hank Pym

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sonicrainicorn · 4 years

Text

Patton is Berry Done

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 4092 Desc.: Logan gets drunk for the first time in his life, and Patton realizes it’s not as fun to be on the other end. TW: Alcohol, cursing, a lot of throwing up (it’s only ever mentioned tho bc ew)

The idea came to me when I was working on the one-shot that was actually supposed to be published. whoops. Hope you like drunk Logan, anyway.

///

One Friday night, Damien invited Patton and Logan over to hang out. Patton, who was very much well aware of what his brother meant by ‘hang out’, asked Thomas if he was willing to babysit. Well -- he asked Logan if he could ask Thomas. Patton was sure that asking Thomas for anything would end in his funeral. Which he understood completely. Though, if you told him last month that Thomas would genuinely threaten to break every bone in his body, he would have thought you were joking. Thomas was the nicest person he knew.

Either way, he agreed and Patton and Logan thanked him again before leaving. When they got there, Damien had already started drinking.

“Rough day at work, then?” Patton asked with a raised brow.

Damien glared at him and let them in the house. Emile and Remy were sitting on the floor, using the coffee table to play a card game. By the looks of it, Emile was winning. And by a lot. A random TV show was on that no one paid attention to. Background noise, then.

“Hi, guys,” Emile chirped. “I win again, by the way.” He flipped the dealer’s -- also known as Damien’s -- card over, nonchalantly taking a sip of wine.

In a great feat of theatrics, Remy fell back and let out a short yell. “How the hell do you win every time?”

“I told you not to play blackjack with him, but you insisted.” Damien rolled his eyes and gathered all the cards. “You should probably stop before he wins everything you own.”

“Damn bastard already has everything I own,” Remy grumbled under their breath.

Emile smiled sweetly at them.

Damien tossed the card pack at Patton, who almost didn’t catch it. “Work did suck if you must know. And I need someone to get drunk with. Remy can’t do it because they work tomorrow and Em doesn’t like to get drunk so...” He looked at Patton like it was obvious. “You definitely weren’t my first option.”

Seems someone was still a little mad. “Why don’t you just go to a bar?” Patton sat next to Emile.

“Because I want to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of my own home.” He crossed his arms. “Will you do it or not?”

“No thanks.” He started shuffling the cards.

Damien groaned dramatically. “You never give me what I want.” A buzzed middle child who was in a Mood didn’t make for good conversation, as it turned out. He turned to Logan. “What about you?”

Patton expected the answer to be the same, he had no reason to doubt otherwise, but then Logan -- Logan who took one shot on his twenty-first birthday and then never drank again, said, “Yeah, I don’t see why not”

“Oh God, yes. Finally.” Damien rushed to the kitchen with a large grin.

Patton stopped shuffling to stare at Logan with what he assumed could be translated as what the actual fuck all over his face.

It seemed to catch Logan’s attention. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You don’t drink.”

“Well, out of the two of us, I’m not the one known for doing regrettable things so I think we’re safe.”

Ooh, yikes. Yeah, that was a hundred percent called for. Patton shifted in his spot and diverted his attention back to the cards. Turns out he didn’t have any more to say.

Emile glanced between them, a small thoughtful frown on his face. He erased it with a shake of his head. “So what are we playing?”

“Poker.”

Remy sat up. “Great. I actually have a chance at this.”

“Did you want to join us, Logan?” Emile sent him a small smile.

“With the way D’s going to drink tonight?” A sly grin slid across Remy’s face. “ I think he’ll have his hands full already.”

Right on time, Damien came charging back into the room. In his arms were various supplies such as shot glasses, vodka, tequila, and a few different chasers. He set them all on the table. “Wanna match me shot for shot?” He held up the bottle of vodka with an inviting grin.

“No.” Patton snatched it out of his hand.

He made an offended noise akin to a child getting their toy taken away. “Why not?”

“Because I know how many shots you can take and I don’t want you giving my husband alcohol poisoning.”

“Ugh, fine.” He took the bottle back. “For every shot you take, I’ll take a double.”

Patton’s, “That’s not what I meant.” versus Emile's, “You’re already tipsy.” did nothing in comparison to Remy’s much louder, “Do it bitch, you won’t.”

“Alright, bet.” He sat at the unoccupied side of the table.

Emile hit Remy’s shoulder and gave them an ‘are you kidding me?’ look. They simply shrugged in response.

“C’mon, Logan, let’s see how fast we can regret this tomorrow.” He started pouring out the first shots and chasers, eager to get started. The only time Damien was eager to do something was if it caused damage -- be it to property or livers.

Logan sighed, shrugged to himself, and sat next to Damien. Patton watched wearily as he took his first shot. His face screwed up as it burned its way down. Patton could feel the phantom burns in his own throat. Straight vodka wasn’t his favorite, but it was always common at college parties. He knew the motions well. Take the shot, let it burn -- but don’t act like it burns, then sip a chaser if there happens to be one. (Though, if there was one, it was always alcoholic.) Logan didn’t know the ‘etiquette’ of drinking well enough. He reached for the chaser of cranberry juice almost as soon as it went down.

It didn’t matter though. How you took a shot was just style points. At a party surrounded by onlooking strangers? You’re going to need maximum style points for that. At a bar with some friends? Depending on the friends, style points were still important. At home just trying to get drunk? Style wasn’t the point. Besides, Logan wasn’t a drinker so his reaction to straight shots was bound to be expected.

“Oh, yeah, this is gonna suck.” Damien took a sip of his own chaser. “Ready for another round?”

Sometime after the second shot, Logan started getting a little more touchy. He placed hands on Damien’s shoulders, his arm, Patton was sure there was even a thigh at some point. And Damien was all grins and flirty compliments. Patton knew Damien’s drunken states pretty well. He flirted with anyone that wasn’t a brother of his and generally had his charisma cranked up to ten. On the flip side, he also acted like moody a sixteen-year-old. So, really, drunk Damien was just sober Damien with even less of a filter. Logan’s drunk states, on the other hand, were new territories.

By the third shot, Logan was mostly giggles. He and Damien tried to have their usual debates (also known as a normal conversation for them), but they dissolved into Logan laughing over something vaguely related and Damien testing out a pick-up line based on the topic. On the fourth, Logan kissed Patton and called him “the most beautiful man in the world”. Damien got comically offended and insisted that Logan was breaking his heart. Logan laughed, cradled Damien’s face, and called him beautiful too. As soon as the fifth went down, Logan was completely plastered. He put all his weight against Patton with a loose hand around Damien’s wrist. He started talking about how great everyone was, though he struggled to find more than three adjectives and slurred all his words.

“Nope, that’s enough.” Patton tried to take the bottle out of Damien’s hands when he went to pour another shot, but he couldn’t move with Logan at his side.

Remy took the initiative. “Unfortunately, I have to agree. Logan can’t handle anymore.”

Damien pouted and put his head in his hand. “Boo.”

“That actually took a bit longer than I expected,” Emile admitted softly.

“Yeah -- damn, Logan.” Remy put the cap back on the bottle. “For someone who doesn’t drink you sure held out for a while.”

Logan held up a peace sign.

“Okay, I think we better get going.” Patton lifted Logan to his feet. It was a bit harder than it sounded due to Logan’s apparent lack of bone structure. He refused, or maybe simply couldn’t, move or stand on his own. He kept all his weight on Patton the whole time.

“I think that’s a good idea.” Emile wrangled another bottle out of Damien’s hands. “Stop. Any more and you’ll be asking Logan to marry you.”

Damien snorted. A lazy grin slithered on his face. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Patton frowned, holding Logan a little closer to his side.

Emile sighed -- an annoyed, almost aggressive sound. “Yeah, okay. Come on. We’re done for tonight.” He dragged Damien into the kitchen, ignoring how he almost face planted.

“Ignore him.” Remy shook their head like a disappointed parent. They gave Patton a small smile. Not a grin or a smirk -- a gentle, genuine smile. “Anyway, want some help? Seems like you could use it.”

“That would be nice, actually.”

Logan clung to Remy like a koala to a tree almost as soon as all his weight was transferred over. Right away he started saying all the great things he thought about them and the good things they did. Remy just nodded and agreed while gently coercing him into a better walking position. Patton silently apologized and opened the front door.

On the short walk to the car, everything Logan said was followed by a soft, “I know, Logan.” or an, “Uh-huh.” much like someone would do when they’re half-listening to a child while focusing on another task. Patton would argue that the comparison was more than apt since most of the stuff Logan said seemed to be the first draft.

Patton opened the passenger side door and Remy helped Logan in. They went to close the door, but stopped when Logan said, “I love you.”

They laughed, borderline composed giggles, and responded, “Love you too, pal.” They shut the door. Logan waved at them through the window, and they gave him a little wave back. “Wow, he is fucking trashed.” They turned to Patton with a wide grin. “I’m surprised he’s still conscious.”

“Guess we’ll see how long that lasts.” He looked at Logan, who gave him a bright beam. “I should go before his body realizes he hasn’t thrown up yet.”

“Oh, yeah. Drive safe.”

“Will do.”

Almost as soon as Patton got in the car, Logan blurted out, “If you could drive straight up at sixty miles an hour, it would take an hour to get to space.”

Patton didn’t even have the door closed yet. “W... what?”

He repeated it a little slower, though that seemed to leave a lot more room for errors and slurring. “If you could drive your car up-ards it would take an hour to getta space.”

He blinked. “That’s, uh, that’s really interesting, bumblebee.” He shut the door. “Could you maybe put on your seat belt before telling me more facts? Unless you need some help.”

“M’not five.” Despite his statement, Logan struggled with the necessary coordination for an absurd amount of time. After failing to get the buckle in the right spot (following an embarrassing number of attempts), he gave up with a small pout. “I can’t do it.”

Patton smiled a bit. He looked like a grumpy toddler. “Let me help, hon.” He buckled him in.

Once they started driving, Logan did not stop talking. He told Patton he loved him five different times, asked nonsense questions followed by silly answers, and pointed out whatever he saw looking out the window. He also insisted on having a hand near Patton at all times despite Patton saying he needed to focus on driving. He was so much more open and bubbly and touchy -- very touchy. A near 180 of sober Logan.

They only had to stop for him to throw up on the side of the road once, which was a lot more impressive than the first time Patton ever got drunk. At least from what friends told him. He didn’t remember anything about that night, but he was told that he threw up several times before ever reaching his apartment. To be fair, he was eighteen at the time and trying to impress someone cute. He didn’t remember if it worked or not.

After his little vomit issue, Logan was a bit less energetic. Understandably so. Throwing up always sucked. But throwing up after a night of drinking was even worse. It didn’t stop him from saying how much he loved Patton, though.

When Patton pulled in the driveway, he cursed under his breath. He forgot about Thomas. With Logan drunk out of his mind and extremely pliable, there was no doubt Thomas’s protective older brother instincts would take over. Patton tried to figure out what to say that wouldn’t result in his head on a pike.

“Come on, hon.” He helped Logan out of the car. Once again, all of his weight was against Patton. “Your brother’s gonna kill me for this, isn’t he?”

There seemed to be a magic word in there that caused Logan’s energy to return tenfold. A large grin split across his face and Patton could have sworn there were stars in his eyes. “Thomas is here.”

Okay, Logan getting excited to see Thomas was actually pretty cute. Patton smiled. “Yeah, baby, Thomas is here. Did you wanna see him?”

Logan nodded, almost cartoonish in nature.

“Let’s get inside, then.” While Patton wasn’t at all prepared to see Thomas, he couldn’t deny Logan what he wanted. That would just be cruel.

He struggled to open the door with Logan hanging off of his arm, but he managed. Thomas was laying on the couch watching Parks and Rec on a low volume. His attention diverted from that rather quickly. Almost right away, he was on his feet to reach Patton and Logan. Patton didn’t know why he was surprised. He had to admit that it was a little obvious Logan wasn’t his top-notch self.

Logan detached himself from Patton and all but collapsed into Thomas’s arms before anyone had a chance to say anything. “Thomas,” he said, a little too loud, “you’re amazing. You’re the best -- best brother I could ever ask for. And I... I love you so much.” He squished Thomas’s face with his hands. “I apre... pre-shate all you ever done. You’re so ‘mazing. I owe you so much. You a’ways make me ‘appy a-and you stick by me no matter what. You’re -- you’re just really great.” He gave him a tight hug.

Thomas stared at Patton, dumbfounded. “What... did you do to him?”

Patton held his hands up in defense faster than he could blink. “This was his own doing. I played no part in it.”

“Damien and I took shots,” Logan answered, partially muffled by Thomas’s shoulder.

“You did what?” Thomas pulled him away to look at his face. “How many did you take?”

“Five,” Patton answered. He knew full well Logan lost track.

“Five?” Thomas struggled to keep his voice down. He cradled Logan’s face. “Logan, you don’t drink. What are you doing taking five shots? Shots of what?”

“Mostly vodka.”

If Thomas’s eyes could get wider, they would have. “Vodka? Straight? Dude, how the hell are you still standing?” He checked over Logan as if the answer would be there somehow. “Why would you do something like that?”

Logan shrugged. “Damien wanted’ta get drunk.”

Princess Leia wandered into the living room, shaking herself out of her sleepiness. Her tail wagged as soon as she saw that her other owners were home.

Logan gasped loudly. “There’s my baby.” He fell to his knees to give her attention. “You’re such a good girl. Yes, you are.” He continued to coo and give her pets and scratches.

“I’m... I’m gonna scream. I’m going to actually scream.” Thomas ran his hands down his face. “There’s no way I’m leaving.”

“Leia, no. Go back to the boys.” Patton pried Logan away from her. “Go. Now.” He pointed out the doorway.

She obeyed after visible hesitation.

Patton worked on lifting Logan to his feet. “Look, I’m going to keep an eye on him. You’re free to stay if you want, but I promise I’m going to make sure he’s okay.” He kept him at his side. “I won’t let anything happen to him. He’ll be fine if you leave.”

Thomas crossed his arms. Patton recognized the face he made almost immediately. It was the same one Logan made when he weighed all possible options. That hard, calculating gaze was something they shared well. “Fine. But I’m calling first thing in the morning.”

Holy shit. He actually agreed? This was the greatest achievement of Patton’s life.

“If I find out anything happened, I’m pushing you down a flight of stairs.”

“If anything happens, I’ll fall down the stairs myself.”

Thomas smirked a little. “I’ll hold you to it.” He patted his pockets to see if he had everything. “Alright. The twins were lovely, as usual, and I look forward to the next time I get to see them. Goodnight -- keep my brother safe,” he pointed at Patton, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Logan sounded like a sad little boy who was told he couldn’t get the one toy he wanted for Christmas.

Thomas sent him a small smile. “I’m afraid so, bear. Patton’s going to be looking after you, okay?” He brushed Logan’s bangs to the side and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you later.”

Logan watched him go with the most disappointment Patton had ever seen on his face. He half expected Thomas to change his mind because of it.

“Okay, sweetheart, we’re going to get you some water then you’re going straight to bed.” He led them to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, Logan had to throw up one more time. Or a few times, rather. That seemed to be the end of the fun alcohol adventure. Patton made sure he was finished before giving him more water. On their way to the bedroom, Patton was stopped by a sleepy voice.

“Dad?” Roman called. He sounded half-asleep. “S’everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Your daddy’s just a little sick. Go back to sleep.” He made sure there wouldn’t be any more questions before continuing. He closed the door to the bedroom so Leia wouldn’t get in. As much as Logan loved to have her in here, she wouldn’t be very helpful.

He helped Logan into a clean shirt and guided him to bed. “I’ll be next door if you need something, okay, dear?” He slipped off his glasses. “Get some sleep.”

“Don’t.” Logan caught his wrist before he could leave. “Can’t you stay?” He looked at Patton with such vulnerability it sort of hurt to see.

“Only if you want me to.”

“Please.”

God, Patton couldn’t say no to that face. He slipped into his side of the bed for the first time in way too long. Of course the one night he’s allowed back is the one night Logan isn’t fully cognizant of his actions. In a way, it was almost poetic.

Logan buried his face into Patton’s chest almost immediately. He sighed in contentment, one arm thrown over Patton’s waist for good measure.

Patton hesitated before bringing him closer. The anxious part of his brain insisted that Logan would somehow snap out of this and scream at Patton to get away from him. After all, Logan didn’t invite him back sooner for a reason. But that didn’t happen. Logan seemed more than happy to be so close.

“You know,” he began, already sounding sleepy, “I love you a lot. Maybe too much. You could hurt me all you want and I’d still take you back. If you say sorry. And maybe that’s bad, but I think that’s what I would do. I love you too much to let you go.”

Oh, no. Oh, Logan. Patton kissed the top of his head and tried not to break down into tears. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. He hoped, maybe, it was some sort of drunken nonsense, but he had a sickening feeling it wasn’t. He hated knowing this. He hated knowing that the crap he pulled -- that stupid, idiotic mistake that broke Logan’s heart -- wouldn’t have been the nail in the coffin of their relationship. As angry as Logan was, as upset as he was, he always planned to give Patton a second chance. It wasn’t comforting to know that.

If Patton was a lesser man than he already was, he would have used that to his advantage. He would have screwed Logan over, again and again, knowing he would be able to come back if he acted sorry enough. But someone already did that before, didn’t they?

Patton didn’t want to be anything like that person. He wanted to be as far away from them as he could get because Logan deserved someone so much better than that. Maybe the person he deserved wasn’t even Patton at all, but Patton was the person he chose. The least he could do was be a good husband. Logan deserved that and a million more things. He deserved to think more highly of himself, for one. One problem at a time, though, the most immediate problem would be the hangover tomorrow.

Patton woke up with a start.

For a moment, he didn’t believe he was in his bedroom, but then he recalled the night before. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He still had his clothes and glasses on. Then he noticed he was alone. Before he could come up with a possible scenario, he heard throwing up in the bathroom. Uh oh. It wasn’t even morning yet.

He hurried down the hall. “Are you okay, bumblebee?” He asked from the doorway.

Logan glared at him from his hunched-over position. That answered that, then.

“Is Daddy okay?”

Patton turned to see Virgil, asleep on his feet. “What are you doing up?”

“I lost rock paper scissors.” He yawned.

“Daddy isn’t feeling well tonight. He’ll be fine --” he caught himself before he said ‘tomorrow’. There was no way in hell Logan would be functional tomorrow -- “later. Now go back to sleep. I have it handled.”

Virgil didn’t need to be told twice.

Patton sat with Logan until he finished throwing up. He knew from experience what a miserable time this was, but that also meant he knew how to make it more manageable. He gave Logan things to settle his stomach then practically carried him back to bed. They both fell asleep in no time at all.

When morning came, Patton called out of work. He also called Thomas to take the twins and Princess Leia. There was no way he was leaving Logan’s side today. Judging from the late-night vomiting, and heavy sleeping, this would be a rough first hangover. He decided to sit in bed and scroll through random apps until Logan decided to wake up.

“Oh my God,” Logan groaned. He rolled over so his face would be in his pillow.

Patton couldn’t help the smirk that played at his lips. “Well, good morning, sleeping beauty. How do you feel?”

“I think I’m dying.”

“I can assure you you’re not.” He put away his phone and laid back down. “It’s just a hangover. You’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

Logan groaned again. He moved his head to look at Patton. “How do you never feel like this after drinking?”

“Years of practice.”

“Oh, well, I’m definitely not getting that.” He flipped over and threw an arm over his eyes. “That’s the last time I drink anything ever.”

Patton smiled in amusement. “How much do you remember?”

“Honestly? I blacked out after the second shot.”

“That explains why you kept going.”

Logan shot up, eyes wide. “I kept going?” That clearly wasn’t the right move. He grimaced and curled in on himself, a wounded sound leaving his throat. “Why the hell didn’t you stop me?”

“Do you really think I’m in a position to stop you from doing anything?”

“Fair point.” Logan laid back down as slowly as possible. “God, this is the worst.” He bumped his fingers against Patton’s.

“Well,” Patton took his hand, “I’m here to help you through it.”

~~~

@actitus-hypoleucos

#after 14 stories #its finally patton's turn #sanders sides #patton sanders #logan sanders #thomas sanders #janus sanders #emile picani #ts emile #ts sleep #ts remy sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #alcohol tw #berry done au

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saveyourblood · 5 years

Text

Stolen Dance | S.R.

Summary: 15 months. 3 bodies. 1 river.

It was only a matter of time before the FBI showed up.

Notes: Thought I was done writing fanfiction? Sweetie, I’ll never be done 😉 (unfortunately)

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: Mentions of dead bodies, blood(? I don’t remember tbh), violence, the usual Criminal Minds themes.

Song: Stolen Dance - Milky Chance

_____________________

“This girl is no different from the rest: her throat was slashed, and she was found naked. I’m sure once we get her to the pathologist, they’ll find signs of sexual assault.”

“Was the clothing found?”

The investigator nodded. “Folded and placed on the ground close to the body, just like the last two.”

You sat on the edge of the ambulance, listening to their conversation.

Amiee Rogers was the fourth girl to show up dead in the last 15 months, and the third to follow a distinct pattern. She was almost identical to other victims, physically and otherwise — young, average height, dark hair and eyes, and athletic. This sicko had a type, that much was obvious.

You still weren’t used to looking at the bodies, which ultimately, was a good thing; f your stomach didn’t turn and throat close at the sight of those poor girls dumped in a river, maybe it was time to quit your job as a paramedic and move to the mountains. That day had yet to come, though, so instead of becoming a hermit, you waited patiently and avoided looking at Aimee’s lifeless body.

“It’s just horrible, isn’t it?” Michael Alphon, your work partner asked. “The way they’re just tossed aside like trash.”

A gust of wind swept through the air. You pulled your jacket tight around you, crossing your arms over your chest.

“It is,” you agreed.

“Alphon, Y/L/N!” The sheriff shouted, catching yours and Michael’s attention. He gestured to the crime scene. “We’re ready for you.”

“I’m tired of pulling bodies out of the Colorado,” Michael muttered.

“Me too,” you said, “but something tells me this won’t be the last time we have to.”

_____________________

After a long night on 3rd shift, you were exhausted. While the left side of your lane was full of people trying to get to work, your lane was basically empty besides your beat up Jeep. Your dog tags swayed back and forth as they hung on the rearview mirror.

You served in the Army for five years, so you should probably be more used to death. Granted, as both a medic and a paramedic, you were always composed and calm while doing your job. But in some ways, the recent murders stuck with you more than serving in war did.

Your work in the Army gave you PTSD, and the killings weren’t doing anything to help it. All the victims were young, less than 25 years old. They were so full of potential, and it was all stolen by a sick man with an unknown vendetta. At least when you were in warzone, you managed to disconnect and hone in on your skills. Now that you were back in Grand Junction, Colorado — the city you were born and raised in — it was almost impossible to zone out your surroundings. You knew these people: the families, the victims. You weren’t just pulling bullets out of men in camouflage anymore. This was real.

Everytime you closed your eyes, all you saw was Aimee Rogers, Felicity Garb, and Stella Lee. You saw their glazed over, lifeless eyes. You saw their blue skin and purple lips caused by the cold water. You saw their clothes sitting on the riverside, neatly folded in a pile. And sometimes, right before falling asleep, you thought you heard their screams.

_____________________

You tossed your bag in your locker with a sigh. Once again, you decided to pick up a night shift, and you hardly got any sleep beforehand. You knew the only reason the night crew wanted to trade shifts was because they didn’t want to find another body, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t sleep these days anyways, and working graveyards made you a few more bucks an hour, so really, what did it matter?

“Y/N Y/L/N?” A handsome black man asked. He wore dark clothing, but he didn’t give you an EMT/paramedic vibe.

“That’s me,” you confirmed, closing your locker. “What can I help you with?”

“We heard you were one of the paramedics on-scene the night Aimee Rogers’ body was found,” a younger, taller man asked.

You didn’t notice him at first, but once you did, it was hard to look away. He had shaggy hair, big eyes, and a sharp jawline. He had to be at least six feet tall, but something about his voice and even his presence was… comforting. You couldn’t really explain it.

“I was,” you said cautiously. “Who are you, exactly?”

The first man was quick to respond; he pulled out a badge and showed it to you. “We’re FBI agents, ma’am.”

You heard through the grapevine that the FBI was in town. Though it made perfect logical sense, it didn’t seem real to you. Everyone always said it, but it was true: things like this don’t happen here. Grand Junction wasn’t even 1/6th of Denver’s population, yet somehow, there was a serial killer running around? It felt more like a novel or movie than real life.

“I guess it was only a matter of time before you guys showed up,” you ceded.

“I’m Agent Derek Morgan, and this is Dr. Spencer Reid,” Derek continued. “We were hoping we could speak to you?”

“Dr. Reid?” you asked in disbelief. You took a seat on the bench behind you. “You used the logarithmic spiral and a Fibonacci sequence to find out where Henry Grace was holding his hostages.”

Derek looked at Spencer in a way only the two of them understood.

“H-How did you know that?” Spencer asked.

“I read,” you said simply. “I learned about the BAU when I was in Basic Training. I’ve always had an interest in the study of human behavior. My mother said I had a knack for it, that I was good at spotting liars.”

“You served?” Derek asked with raised eyebrows. He took a seat next to you.

“For half a decade,” you said. “After my first year, I trained to be a medic, a few years after that, I got deployed for 18 months.”

Derek nodded in approval. “Show us.”

You laughed in surprise. “Show you?”

“Prove your mother right. Profile us.”

You looked between the two men. Derek looked insistent; Spencer, on the other hand, seemed completely indifferent.

“The two of you have been working together for awhile; years, probably,” you started. “When I mentioned Dr. Reid’s work, you looked at him,” you said, speaking to Derek. “The two of you are professional, so you didn’t say anything. However, Agent Morgan, you raised your eyebrows and held back a smile. This leads me to believe the relationship has become interpersonal.”

“It doesn’t take a profiler to notice changes in body language and facial expressions,” Spencer said plainly. “Really, those are things your subconscious picks up on. You simply analyzed our interaction and took an educated guess.”

“I’m not finished,” you said with a half smile.

Spencer merely looked at you.

You took a breath. It felt like you would be intruding, saying too much about something you knew nothing about. Your father was a good and kind man, but on more than one occasion did he lecture you for your lack of filter. Since then, you learned observe people in silence.

“Had the two of you not been here on work, Derek would have made a comment,” you spoke. You turned your attention to the agent next to you. “You assumed I took a liking to Dr. Reid, most likely in a romantic or even sexual way. However, you also would have found a way to demean Dr. Reid.”

“Demean him?” Derek inquired. He managed to keep his expression blank, but he subconsciously sat up straighter — a defensive position.

“You respect Dr. Reid,” you observed. “In some ways, you probably see him as a brother. But in other ways, you see him as competition. You grew up as an alpha male, a protector. You became a profiler by going through the classes and training. Dr. Reid on the other hand, he just showed up one day out of the blue.”

Spencer crossed his arms. “What are you trying to say, Y/N?”

You hesitated. “I’m saying that, while Agent Morgan respects you, there’s a small part of him that thinks you’re only good at profiling because you taught yourself how to be good at it.”

“Of course he taught himself. That’s how people learn,” Derek argued.

“Spencer doesn’t learn, though,” you said softly. “He reads, and he remembers. He profiles using patterns and statistics, while you profile by getting inside a person’s head. Neither method is wrong, of course, but sometimes, a part of you thinks that your way shows more talent. That’s why you wanted to make a remark: mostly because you wanted to lightheartedly tease, but also because you wanted to show your dominance. You wanted to prove that, sometimes, you can be smarter than the genius you work with.”

Once again, the two of them shared a look. Eventually, though, Derek began to chuckle.

“She’s good,” Spencer noticed.

“Very good,” Derek agreed.

After a moment of silence, Spencer spoke up. “Sheriff Longman said you began to pick up on the Unsub’s habits.”

You bit your lip. “I have a few theories, but I’m no expert.”

“What’re you thinking, Y/N?” Derek persuaded.

“Bea Vallette was the first,” you said. “They thought it was an accident or suicide — he hadn’t developed his signature by then.”

“What’s his signature?” Spencer asked.

“Rogers, Garb, and Lee were all found with the same injuries; their throats were slit, they were discovered naked, face-down, and they all had signs of sexual assault. But unlike Vallette, these girls had something in common: the clothes they went missing in were found washed and folded next to their bodies.”

“Most likely, that’s a sign of -” Spencer began. Derek cut him off.

“What could the clothing be a sign of?” Derek asked you.

“It could be remorse. He rapes and kills them, but he feels sorry for them, so he washes the blood out of their clothes and leaves them behind.”

“If he’d go through the trouble of washing the clothes, why not put them back on the victim?” Spencer thought aloud.

“Putting them back on is a higher risk of leaving DNA behind,” you pointed out.

“Maybe he’s trying to make a statement,” Derek suggested. “Maybe it’s his way of showing power over his victims, even after killing them.”

“Well, as much as I’d love to sit here and theorize with you gentlemen,” you said, standing up, “I have a job to do.”

“Absolutely,” Derek said in understanding. He reached into his pocket. “If you think of anything, give us a call.”

You smiled, pocketing the card. “Will do.”

You couldn’t help but steal one last look at Spencer before he and Derek left.

_____________________

You ended your shift by putting another girl in the back of the ambulance.

This time, the BAU team was there to respond. Spencer was the first to approach you.

“Same signature, same MO,” you said without looking up.

“The length between this kill and his last is significantly shorter than the gap between Rogers and Garb,” Spencer continued. “After killing Lee, it took him 4 months to kill Garb. The gap between Vallette and Lee is even longer - 6 months. Why would kill twice in the span of 2 weeks?”

“Something triggered him,” you said. “That, or he’s devolving, becoming more desperate.” You then chuckled nervously to yourself. “Sorry, I’m supposed to be doing my job, not yours.”

“No, it’s fine, I…” Spencer paused, then looked to you. “I want to hear what you have to say.”

You made an involuntary face. “Why?” You asked.

“Locals are essential to every investigation we conduct, just like we - the profilers - are.” Spencer explained. “I’ve never worked a case where someone was both.”

“I’m one of a kind,” you joked.

“You are,” Spencer agreed. His expression was serious. It made your heart skip a beat.

“Look, Dr. Reid, I -”

“It’s Spencer,” he interrupted, then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I, um… you can call me Spencer.”

“Spencer,” you corrected yourself, “I’d like to help. Really, I would. But I haven’t been back in town for that long, and I’m not really friends with anyone. I don’t think I have the insight you’re looking for.”

“You’re more important than you think.”

You were almost grateful the two of you were interrupted; you didn’t trust whatever answer you may have come up with.

“This has to be our guy,” a dark haired woman appeared beside Spencer. “The only difference between this victim and the others is the position of the body.”

“The other girls were found face-down, but this time, he left her face-up,” Spencer noted aloud.

“He’s angrier,” you said. “Leaving the girls face-down with their waists in the water gave them some sort of dignity. This time, he left her completely exposed.”

“...I’m sorry, who are you?” The woman asked.

“This is Y/N,” Spencer introduced. “She’s helped recover every victim so far. Also, she has a knack for profiling. Y/N, meet SSA Emily Prentiss.”

“You’re the girl that called Morgan an alpha male,” Emily responded, a grin on her face.

“Only because I said she could,” a voice from behind you spoke. You turned around to see the one and only Derek Morgan.

“Hey, Derek,” you said, almost bashfully. His closed mouth smile told you he had no hard feelings, which you were grateful for.

You caught Spencer adjusting his posture in your peripheral vision.

Three days passed. After your 4th 12 hour shift in a row, most of them being at night, the department decided it was time for you to have a break. If it were up to you, you’d live in an ambulance. Unfortunately, though, that choice wasn’t yours to make.

Instead of savoring your time off, you took up a different job: trying to discover the unsub. You eventually came to the conclusion that Spencer may be right, that you might know something they didn’t. You tried your hardest to take advantage of that opportunity.

You visited your mom, who now lived 45 minutes away from Grand Junction. She only moved recently, so for the most part, she kept in contact with her friends that still lived in the city. The BAU released the assumed age of the Unsub — 30 - 45 years old — and your mother fell in that same demographic. The profile also said he knew the area well; he lived in the area for at least a decade. There was a chance he went to school with your mother.

“That prom was one of my proudest accomplishments,” your mom grinned as she reminisced. “I was so happy with how it turned out.”

“It looks great, mom,” you praised. Her Senior prom’s theme was ‘Under the Sea’, sort of like the dance in Back to The Future. By modern standards, it was tacky, but everyone in the photo looked over the moon happy. You weren’t about to dock that.

You turned the page to reveal a big, black and white photo full of teenage football players. A few were smiling, most of them had a blank expression. A boy in the second row with shaggy brown hair looked familiar. You pointed to him.

“Do I know him?” You asked.

“Caleb Chasing?” Your mom said. “Maybe. Him and his wife never moved; they raised their kids in Grand Junction. Poor guy, his wife took the kids when they got divorced.”

“That sucks,” you said, running your fingers over the picture absentmindedly. “Who did he marry?”

“Stephanie Young,” your mom answered. “He was the quarterback, she was the star of the swim team. They were high school sweethearts, the perfect couple. It’s a shame they didn’t last.”

“Swim team?” you murmured to yourself.

“Turn a few pages, you’ll find a picture of her,” she insisted.

4 pages later, you found the swim team of that year. You read the text on the side, found Stephanie’s location in the photo, and spotted her. Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Aimee Rogers. Felicity Garb. Stella Lee.

They all looked exactly like Stephanie Young did as a teenager: same dark hair, big eyes, athletic build.

You felt sick to your stomach.

“I need to speak to Dr. Reid,” you told the Sheriff.

You stood in the middle of the bustling police station. A few officers gave you looks as they walked by, but none of them dared to say something.

“The FBI Agent?” He asked in disbelief.

“No, the medical doctor,” you sassed. “Yes, the agent. Look, he gave me a number to call if I needed anything. I can call him, if you want, but it would save all of us some time if you just let me talk to him.”

“Remember who you’re talking to, miss,” the sheriff warned. “I take no orders from you.”

“I’m talking to the man who watched me pull three bodies out of the Colorado River.”

He averted his gaze.

“I’m sorry if you felt disrespected, but nothing I said was out of malice. I care about these girls just as much as you do. I don’t want to boss you around - I want to help.”

“Y/N?” You turned your head to see Spencer standing behind the Sheriff.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I think I found the unsub.”

The room fell silent when you walked in.

“Everyone, this is Y/N,” Spencer introduced. He turned to you. “That’s Agent Hotchner, Agent Rossi, and Jennifer Jureau.”

“You’re missing two, Spence,” JJ pointed out.

“I already met Agents Prentiss and Morgan,” you assured.

“Y/N’s a paramedic,” Emily explained. “She recovered Mandy Koplin’s body.”

“And Lee, and Garb, and Rogers,” you added. You took in a breath. “I have a theory.”

“We appreciate your efforts, but -” Hotchner started. Surprisingly, Spencer cut him off.

“We talked it over, and I think she might be right,” Spencer said. “Hear her out. Please.”

You opened your file and pulled out the first photo, holding it up.

“Meet Caleb Chasing,” you said. “He was the quarterback of the Lakeland Warriors for 3 years, until he graduated high school in 1999.” You threw down the picture of Chasing and picked another one up. “One year later, his high school sweetheart, Stephanie Young, graduated. A year after that, they got married.”

“All of the victims look like Stephanie,” JJ said in disbelief. “It’s uncanny.”

“Were you able to find a stressor?” Derek asked.

You set your papers down on the table in front of you, rifling through them. You must have looked crazy, but you couldn’t feel more composed. They were actually listening to you.

“Caleb and Stephanie had two children together over the 7 years of their marriage. The got divorced last year, and Stephanie won sole custody of both kids.”

“Garcia,” Hotch spoke to the phone sitting in the middle of the table. “Are you double-checking this?”

“Oh, you know I am,” a woman through the line assured. “Our new friend Y/N hit bullseye — In August 2007, Caleb Chasing filed for divorce, and by November of that year, a judge granted Stephanie parental rights.”

“We’ve got a stressor and an MO,” Emily said, “but that doesn’t explain why he leaves the bodies by the river.”

You smirked to yourself, ready with a response. You showed them the photo from your mother’s yearbook. “Stephanie was on the swim team in high school. He could be using the water as a symbol, a power move.”

“If Chasing wants to get back at his wife, why not go for older victims?” Derek proposed.

“If Caleb feels resentment only towards Stephanie, it’s possible he targets younger victims in order to protect his children,” Spencer answered. “He loves his children, but he blames Stephanie for their failed marriage. To cope with the conflict, he kills women resembling Stephanie when they first fell in love.”

“That way, he purges Stephanie from his life without involving their children,” Rossi said.

The agents shared looks with one another. All you could hear was the sound of your heart beating in your chest.

“So?” you asked, sounding breathless. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s time we give Caleb Chasing a visit,” Hotch said.

Caleb was complacent in coming to the police station in order to be interviewed. You thought he would lawyer up right off the bat, but he simply sat there, staring at his hands.

Derek and Rossi entered the interrogation room, and the man sat straight up. His face was expressionless, but his eyes had a fire burning behind them.

“You met your ex-wife in high school,” Derek stated. He tossed a photo of Stephanie onto the table in front of Caleb.

Caleb frowned in confusion. “What does Steph have to do with any of this?”

“She’s pretty. Brown eyes, dark hair, athletic build… every man’s dream,” Rossi said, looking at a photograph of his own. “Kind of like these girls, don’t you think?”

David showed Caleb ‘normal’ photos of each victim; they were dressed nice, smiling into a camera lense. They couldn’t look more pure in white.

“These are those missing girls,” Caleb stated. “Why are you showing me this?”

“The missing girls who turned up dead,” Derek corrected.

Finally, it began to click for Caleb. “You think I did this?!”

You sighed in resignation as you watched behind the two-way mirror.

“This isn’t him,” you said. “He didn’t do it.”

“What makes you so sure?” Spencer asked from beside you. His arms were folded over his chest as he observed the conversation.

“Well, for one, he let us search the house without a warrant,” you said. “Plus, he didn’t react when Derek brought up Stephanie. If he was killing those women out of anger towards Stephanie, his rage would be consuming, so consuming that it’s impossible to control. Mentioning her name should be enough to set him off, right?”

“In many cases, yes,” Spencer said. “He could be manipulating the situation, though. If he is trying to protect his children, like we theorized, he may have found a way to keep his emotions under control.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you said. “Or maybe he’s just a normal guy who cares about his kids and doesn’t hate his ex-wife.”

Spencer’s phone rang in his pocket. He answered without hesitation.

“Hello?” He asked. His facial expression quickly changed. “Wait, Emily, slow down. What happened?”

Your heart rate began to pick up.

“Are you sure?” he asked, then sighed. “Alright, just hang tight. I’ll talk to Morgan and Rossi.”

Spencer hung up and dialed a different number.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

Spencer ignored you, the phone pressed to his ear. You heard a ringing noise come from the interrogation room.

“What’s up?” Derek asked.

“Stephanie is missing,” Spencer responded.

Despite the mirror, Derek managed to look directly at him. “You’re sure?”

“Hotch, Emily, and the Sheriff went to her house in Loma. There’s no trace of her or the kids.”

“Why would the unsub change MOs?” you asked frantically. “He’s never shown an interest in kids. Why now?”

“He snapped, went after what he’s wanted this entire time,” Spencer said. “The kids probably got caught in the crossfire.”

Derek hung up the phone and leaned over the table. “Stephanie and your kids are missing,” he said bluntly. “If you had something to do with it, you’re gonna tell us where they are. If you didn’t, you’re going to tell us who could have.”

Caleb ran his hands over his head. “Oh my god,” he breathed out. “D-did someone take them?”

“It appears that way, yes.”

“I always tell her to lock the door,” Caleb murmured. “She never does. Even when we were married, she forgot.”

“Caleb,” Derek said, this time, more gently. “Can you think of anyone that would want to hurt Stephanie?”

He shook his head violently. “She’s perfect… she loves everyone she meets. God, why would someone do this?”

Suddenly, it clicked in your brain.

You grabbed the yearbook and rushed out of the room, despite Spencer’s protests. You barged into the interrogation room, and it was clear that David and Derek were less than thrilled to see you.

“What the hell are you doing?” Derek asked. Rossi rose to his feet, but he didn’t say anything.

You flipped through the yearbook, eventually finding the class pictures from that year. You set the book down in front of Caleb.

“The man we’re looking for chooses victims that remind him of Stephanie when she was in high school,” you explained. “Did either of you have a classmate that was… weird? Kept to himself, didn’t know how to talk to girls, maybe had a short temper?”

Caleb looked through the yearbook. “I… I don’t know.”

“Think,” Rossi encouraged. “He might have made a few comments about Stephanie and her appearance.”

Caleb discovered the page showing the football team. After a moment, he pointed to someone in the bottom row. Austin. Austin Beck.”

“What about him?” Derek prompted.

“He mentioned how attracted he was to Stephanie, almost every chance he got,” Caleb said. “Sometimes the other boys would join in, saying she was hot, asking if she had a sister, that sort of thing. Once Steph and I started dating, they stopped.”

“But Austin didn’t,” Rossi said.

Caleb nodded, swallowing nervously. “He didn’t bring it up as often, but he would say that if I ever broke up with her, he wouldn’t hesitate. I snapped at him one day, and that was the last I heard of it.”

“Does he still live in town?” Derek asked.

“Maybe? I heard he works at the mechanic’s shop on West Geranium, but that was a while ago.”

Suddenly, Spencer entered. He held his phone outwards — it was on speaker.

“Garcia, what can you find on Austin Beck?” Spencer asked into the phone.

“He lived in an apartment on the westside of Grand Junction until a year and a half ago,” Garcia said. “After that, he managed to mostly cover his tracks.”

“Fits the timeline,” Derek said. “Bea Vallette was found dead about 15 months ago; a little less than a year and a half ago.”

“What else can you find on him?” Rossi inquired.

“His father bought a cabin in 1987. It sits on the eastern border of the city.”

“That’s right next to the Colorado,” you said.

“Garcia, send everyone the address. Tell Prentiss and Hotch to meet us there,” Derek said.

In a matter of seconds, it was only you and Caleb left in the room.

_____________________

You sat alone at the bar, sipping your drink.

Everything went as well as could be expected — they managed to apprehend Beck without too much trouble. He hid the kids in the basement, most likely to finish them off after he was done with their mother. He never got that far.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Someone asked from behind you.

You smirked and down the rest of your drink. You spun around in your stool to see Spencer.

“Ever since your team came back to the station,” you confirmed.

“You didn’t stick around to hear the story,” Spencer observed.

“Stephanie and her kids are okay. That’s all I need to know,” you responded.

Spencer studied you for a moment. “Can I sit down?”

“Sure, why not,” you allowed. When you caught the bartender’s attention, you pointed to your drink, then held up two fingers. He got the memo.

“You didn’t profile me.”

You chuckled. “Was I supposed to?”

“You could have profiled both of us,” Spencer said. “You chose Derek.”

“Are you jealous?” You teased.

The bartender came over with two more drinks. You thanked him.

“Confused, mostly,” Spencer replied.

You took a sip, nudging the other glass towards Spencer. “I didn’t want to make things awkward,” you admitted.

“Awkward?”

You didn’t reply right away; it took you some time to gather your thoughts.

“You and I have a lot in common,” you eventually said. “Most people look at us and think we wear our hearts on our sleeves. Really, though, we’re secretive. You hide behind your intellect, I hide behind my job. We’re good at talking to people, but we’re better at shutting them out, because the last time we let someone in, they burned us. For me, it was my father.”

Silence fell between the two of you for a moment. In the corner of your eye, you watched Spencer bring his drink to his lips and take a steady sip. He set it back down on the bar before speaking.

“Me too.”

The two of you clinked your glasses together.

“Derek was right, you know,” you said.

“Right about what?”

“I am attracted to you,” you said plainly. “Bringing up the idea that he’s an alpha male distracted from that, at least for awhile.”

“I’m attracted to you as well.”

You looked up in surprise. Never in your life have you been so honest with someone, and if you were honest, you thought said honesty would send him running for the hills.

Spencer cleared his throat and suddenly had trouble finding your eyes. “Derek and I have worked together for a long time, so he knows that I appreciate it when people take an interest in me. But you… You’re beautiful, and smart, and amazing at profiling without having to try. A woman like you, interested in someone like me? It’s flattering.”

Hearing Spencer Reid, one of the brightest minds of his generation, say that he was flattered by you, a nobody from nowhere… it made you want to kiss him.

And so, you did.

His lips were chapped — you caught him licking them absentmindedly on a few occasions earlier. Despite that, though, his touch was warm and inviting. Your hand moved to his cheek instinctually. Meanwhile, you felt his fingers against the bottom of your chin. When you felt his other hand land on your waist, you gasped softly, pulling away to take a proper breath.

“Did I do something wrong?” Spencer asked. The concern in his voice warmed your heart. His hand slowly drifted away from your waist.

“No,” you whispered, returning his hand to where it was. “That was perfect.”

You started kissing him again, and it felt like you couldn’t stop. His grip on you was tight, yet comforting. Your hands trailed down his chest and to his back, pulling him closer. The two of you only parted to take desperate breaths before reentering bliss. Eventually, however, you remembered the two of you weren’t the only people existing, and the bliss was over.

It didn’t have to be over over, though.

“We’re probably not gonna see each other ever again after tonight,” you said breathlessly. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want our goodbye to be us sharing our daddy issues.”

“How would you like me to say goodbye to you, Y/N?” Spencer asked, voice gravelly.

You smiled, leaning into his ear. “The apartment complex on the corner, 3rd floor, room 17.”

Your hand was still on his back, so you felt the chill that ran down his spine. You only moved your hand so you could take money out of your wallet.

You set a few bills on the bar and adjusted the bag on your shoulder. “Goodbye, Dr. Reid,” you said, then gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The minute you stepped into your apartment, you began to panic. You were normally a reserved, almost shy person. You weren’t a girl who tells people when you’re attracted to them, you don’t initiate kisses, you don’t invite men from bars home. You didn’t do this. This wasn’t your normal.

But then again… neither was Spencer.

He was handsome, and smart, and you could listen to him talk for hours. You’ve never met someone you connected with so well within mere minutes of knowing them. It seemed almost unfair that the two of you had only one night to spend together, but you were determined to make the most of it.

You paced for a bit. You sat down. You went back to pacing. You took off your jacket and threw it on the couch. You checked the time. 15 minutes had passed since you left the bar. If he wanted to see you, he should have been only a few minutes behind you.

You threw in the towel.

You let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair. You felt silly. In some respects, you wanted to cry. Of course it was too good to be true. Of course someone as good-looking and charming as Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t want you. It made sense. It made perfect sense.

You turned your back to the door, pinching the bridge of your nose. Then, you heard a knock.

You spun around, and it took all the self-control you possessed to walk to the door rather than sprint. Normally, you’d look through the peephole before opening the door, but not this time. In this and many other ways, this man was an exception.

You opened the door, and it felt like the wind was knocked out of you.

“Hello, Y/N,” Spencer said. The corner of his lip curved up.

“Hello, Dr. Reid.”

_____________________

Part 2

Notes: For the record, I am aware of how grossly unrealistic this is lol. But if you look into it, you’ll see how inaccurate the show is, so I don’t feel too bad. After all, this is fiction, as is the show.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds reader insert #man it feel weird to type out tags like this again

304 notes · View notes

ditheringluminary · 4 years

Note

Could I have a session analysis for a Taurpia Maid of Light, Gemnius Witch of Hope, Caniborn Page of Rage, Libza Rogue of Mind, Virsci Sylph of Life, Scorgo Heir of Space, Caprimini Prince of Doom, Pilo Mage of Heart, Leus Bard of Breath, Aquacen Thief of Blood, Arittarius Seer of Void, and a Sagirist Knight of Time?

First big fella! Here we go!

First off: Time and Space? Bingo! In fact this is one of the most stable Time and Space players so far! Usually we get Knights who hide from their aspects or... destroyer classes :p

Maid of Light (Bronze sign, Dersite): Your session will be negatively affected by a force of Light. Ironically this may just mean that you be extremely unlucky when things need to be more fortunate. Hence why the Maid of Light is supposed to create more luck and fortune with their great power.

Witch of Hope (Gold sign, Prospitan): Your players hope to win... Hope! Given the previous classpect, its likely that your players are aware that the odds are really not in their favor, and feel rather upset about it. It’s the Witch’s job to regulate these hope levels so people don’t feel so trash.

Page of Rage (Lime sign, Dersite): Your session will WIN.... Rage... Almost the exact opposite of what you guys seem to want <:B. However! Rage often represents truth, or is at least associated with it. When you win your session you’ll win true insight and the truth of your life story, even if it doesn’t sound very glamorous.

Rogue of Mind (Teal sign, Dersite): Your session’s greatest resource will be Mind. You’ll all be great at working together as a group! Your Rogue will make sure that every idea is used to its absolute fullest and is polished to a shine.

Sylph of Life (Jade sign, Prospitan): Your session will be positively affected by a force of Life. An outside force of healing and betterment (oftentimes simply another Life player/npc) will arrive to help you out.

Heir of Space (Blue sign, Prospitan): Your session is ultimately about Space, meaning creation, the endless expanse of a story, and physical space. It’s likely a lot of creation is going to happen in your session, however since Space is often associated with loneliness, your players may feel lonely even if they’re around tons of people. A special and unfortunate kind of disconnection.

Prince of Doom (Purple sign, Dersite): Your session has too much Doom. Fits in with the Maid of Light classpect’s role. Your session is going to be riddled with unlucky br8ks and likely quite a few deaths. The Prince must use what are effectively Life powers in order to combat this and break a few rules.

Mage of Heart (Fuschia sign, Prospitan): Your session’s lifeblood will be Heart. Even if this doesn’t involve romance like it did for Meulin, it does kind of fit with the other classpects. The loneliness that the Heir of Space indicates that you will be disconnected, but still able to hold your own when you guys are alone. The Rogue of Mind indicates that while Heart will permeate the session, your real aspect to focus on should be Mind, and this permeation might distract you from being mindful. Similar to the alpha trolls session of a Mage of Heart and a Knight of Mind. You have more heart, but need to focus more on Mind.

Bard of Breath (Olive sign, Prospitan): Your session’s greatest challenge will be Breath. I see this mostly in the sense that you are all too detached from one another, and while you are okay with being separate, you’re too separate for Skaia’s liking. This can be connected to the Heir of Space again. Your session is about a lot of unique people but not many that know how to plan things together efficiently.

Thief of Blood (Violet sign, Dersite): Your session will have Blood taken from it. Given how disconnected this session sounds, its likely this will be your session’s “low point”. Your doomed timeline, your horrorstuck, whatever you call it when your last sliver of connection to one another is cut, nothing would stop you from hurting one another, intentionally or not.

Seer of Void (Rust sign, Dersite): Your session will attempt to reach their goal with... nothing. Think of it like the Fistkind strife specibus. Sure, it’s literally nothing, but its pretty damn effective isnt it? You guys will mostly be roughing it for your session, brute forcing and being solo. At least until you realize that you should be using your brains, together.

Knight of Time (Indigo sign, Prospitan): Your session will lack Time. A classic classpect, belonging to one Dave “Coolguy” Strider. As seen in Homestuck, this involves a lot of countdowns and limited time to complete the actual game. You’ll be racing against the clock most of the time in this session.

Warnings: Don’t let the Thief steal your bonds. At least not too many, or else you won’t have any left! Blood and Mind are intensely linked in the way of cooperation, and you won’t be able to have your session cooperate properly. Likewise don’t let the Bard destroy and cut off all the friendships they have in a fit when they leave Blood into their true aspect of Breath. The Prince should have someone watching them, as they might go nuts eradicating Doom and replacing it with “betterment”. Don’t let the Heir of Space isolate themselves, either. Heirs inherit their personality from their aspects and so the Heir of Space may do this on instinct. The Page of Rage sounds a tad dangerous if they are allowed to grow strong and ends up resenting their friends, as Pages are extremely powerful and Rage is an awfully confusing aspect. Finally, the Witch of Hope has a lot of power under their belt. Treat them well and they won’t be a powerhouse with no filter.

Goodies: Not to toot my own horn but the Rogue of Mind will be a great asset! They’ll be the one to rise up and link everyone together, or at least helping them with not being so alone. The Mage of Heart, despite not exactly getting something out of their aspect, will be able to see the uniqueness and love in others, and hopefully will use that to help their friends. The Knight of Time weaponizing time as we’ve seen IN homestuck is a valuable classpect, able to make absolute bank and help out others who have passed (as long as the time loop is stable).

In summation this sounds like a very solid session! Rather focused on interpersonal relationships between players, much like the Alpha kids session. Still, it sounds pretty successful and even has a Knight to help out the Space player! You’re golden!

#rogue of mind #mage of heart #thief of blood #heir of space #knight of time #sylph of life #prince of doom #page of rage #maid of light #witch of hope #seer of void #bard of breath #classpect analysis #homestuck classpect #classpect #homestuck #session analysis #homestuck session

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essentious · 4 years

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Keurig Troubleshooting 10 Problems.

You'll agree with me, we've really come to worship Keurigs – they grant us to make a superb cup of java with no disaster area, direct. There's nothing more to it.

As Keurig has progressed all through the long haul, so has their ability to help their customers with taking care of them. While all Keurig needs a bit of thought every now and then, the latest (Keurig 2.0) models alert themselves whenever it's an ideal chance to descale or add more water.

However, it's not for the most part the circumstance and much of the time you deal with a couple of issues like it spills, won't blend, won't turn on, or won't examine the K-cups.

This can be confusing, anyway you don't need to stress over nothing; luckily, by far most of these issues require irrelevant effort to fix your machine.

In this article, I've recorded the best procedures to help you fight against the most focus Keurig issues.

Issue 1: Keurig Isn't Working/Brewing Coffee Properly

There could be various potential reasons that cause your machine to stop mixing coffee. Here is the way to make your Keurig totally utilitarian when you face any of the most notable issues:

1. A ton of scales improvement discouraging the inward lines/debris plugging up the water lines.

This dominatingly happens in light of the idea of water used in your coffee maker.

On the off chance that you're using hard water, with time, it will begin to finish off with scales (mineral-based stores), and over the long haul your machine will stop working suitably. Also, if the water is too feeble in minerals, it will moreover make your machine fight to work totally.

Here are the best water drugs to help coffee specialists:

1. Loosened up Water

This sort of water contains an unquestionable level of sodium and bicarbonate particles. In domains with hard water, using loosened up water (exemplified with minerals) can be an important choice to stop the design up of scales in your coffee machine.

2. Ultra Pure Water (Reverse Osmosis)

Sounds jumbled, yet it's in reality exceptionally fundamental.

This another extraordinary technique hinders the trash create ups just as improves the overall future of your machine.

This pattern of this procedure incorporates holding the water under pressure as it goes during that time openings. The huge particles (magnesium, copper, sodium, and even fluoride) desert while the flawless water is filtered through.

Regardless, using water with no mineral will make you an unreasonably acidic and unbalanced cup of coffee.

Goodness! http://reviewmycoffee.com/

What's the fix?

Baristas all through the planet use the going with methods to achieve the right balance for coffee and coffee machines:

Remineralisation: The cycle incorporates adding back some key minerals which make the water blend successfully with coffee.

Filtered Water: The improves the taste and nature of water by lessening the chlorine and chloramine – makes your coffee flavor more pleasant.

Thusly, using the right kind of water is huge, for making your Keurig totally viable just as for the blend.

2. Water lines have air bubbles

To discard air ascends in the lines:

Fill the Water Reservoir.

State of mind executioner the Keurig and rethink.

By and by, give your Keurig a quick fragile shake.

Playing out this technique will ensure there's no air trapped in the water lines.

Then again, you can use a straw to hit to discarding stuck air.

3. Mis-arranging of machine parts inside the unit

This isn't incredibly customary in machines with appealing parts, anyway you can do a quick check to confirm if they are arranged suitably or not.

4. Inadequate warm-up time

Obliging the machine for maturing without giving an insufficient warming time either makes it stuck inside the mixing connection, or it will give you a close to no or lacking proportion of arranged coffee. Reviewmycoffee

Thusly, if your Keurig isn't filling in true to form, playing out the given methodologies/techniques will practically certain diminish the chances for non-handiness while giving you a smooth and even cup of java (if the idea of water is the concern).

Issue 2: Keurig Won't Turn On

This is a genuine ordinary issue when you're endeavoring your set up your as of late purchased Keurig or controlling the one you've been using for quite a while.

Here are the possible fixes for this issue:

Possibly, you disregarded interfacing the unit – A newcomer bungle, haha!

Check your force source by halting some other electric machine to guarantee if it's working or not.

Connection the unit, discover the power catch and hold it down until the machine enlightens.

Guarantee the water archive is arranged properly at its place regardless, Keurig won't turn on.

Twofold check if the power connect is affixed suitably to your machine.

On account of nothing helps, it's an ideal chance to call Keurig Customer Care support.

Issue 3: Keurig Keeps Shutting Off without any other individual

There could be two potential reasons that cause your brewer keeps on shutting off discretionarily.

1. The magnet in the water archive is odd.

For instance, when you wipe out the water archive, you'll need to guarantee you're putting it precisely, by the day's end, alluring contacts on the stock should be in contact with the ones on the machine. If it's not in its right spot, Keurig will be shut down as it'll not distinguish any archive for freshwater.

Fixing this issue is so regular: Simply use your hand to realign the magnet and spot back your water archive fittingly.

2. Auto off clock is set.

Keep in mind, a couple of machines in the latest Keurig line have auto halted component that may make your brewer shut off thusly.

In case you needn't bother with this component, you can change or disable the clock so it will now don't be set to "auto" and cause your brewer to close down senselessly.

At whatever point you're done making the possible fixes, proceed with the maturing communication to check whether the issue is settled.

If none of the plans work, Keurig Customer Care can help you better with this.

Issue 4: Keurig is Leaking Water

Keurig customers consistently whimper about water spillage, generally while warming OR out of the base. Here are the possible fixes to encounter those issues:

1. In case Keurig spills water while warming

This may happen due to plugged up needles or by using incorrectly case size. You can have a go at cleaning both exist needles and K-cup holder. In like manner, guarantee the valve at the lower some portion of the water is great and looks fine.

About right unit size, there are various trustworthy headings available to control you better, and besides guarantee you adhere to the Keurig rules to hinder unwanted mischief to your machine.

2. In case Keurig spills water from the base

For the present circumstance, the issue might be a direct result of a ring at the lower part of the water archive or mischief on the hose or seal inside the machine.

If it's an o-ring that is causing the water spillage, you can without a very remarkable stretch replace it with the redesigned one (here is the instructional exercise on the most ideal approach to override the o-ring inside Keurig). In any case, if this is a direct result of the hose or seal inside the machine, you'll need to destroy your Keurig that I won't propose.

On account of nothing helps, It's for each situation better to call Keurig Customer Care organization for extra assistance.

Issue 5: Coffee Is Tasting Like Feet All of a Sudden

For instance, in case you haven't changed your coffee picture, there would be a couple of reasons that can impact the kind of your coffee, i.e.; significant vinegar smell and awful coffee taste.

Here are the likely responses for the most generally perceived reasons:

1. Leaving a channel paper during descaling

If you purposefully left the channel paper while descaling, it's at present sprinkled with vinegar water that makes your coffee taste level due to unfortunate sharp vinegar smell.

For the present circumstance, it's valuable to direct the customer manage and guarantee you've dispensed with/displaced all of the channels.

2. Water supply isn't washed true to form

Your coffee is 98% water, if the water tank isn't washed true to form in the wake of cleaning with vinegar, the mixed coffee gives you a bad introduction.

The straightforward response for this issue is debilitating the water supply through and through and top off it. Preceding doing this, generously ensure that the unit is chilled off for a couple of hours.

3. Ingestion of vinegar by plastic parts

The least complex response for this issue is washing your Keurig with high temp water to discard the upsetting vinegar smell in some java.

4. Oil/Scale improvements

As we're as of now discussed in the #1 Problem, guarantee you use the right idea of water to avoid scales created and guarantee you clean the espresso beans and other earth that interface with your ordinary cup of java.

Despite the fact that the advancement Keurigs alerts normally for descaling, you'd maybe well by totally cleaning your coffee maker after predictably or even sooner in case you mix the coffee even more routinely.

Issue 6: Keurig 2.0 Showing "add more water"

Have a go at filling the water supply to the best level and check whether the bumble message proceeds. If this doesn't help, here is the possible technique to fix this issue:

Kill the water tank unit and void the water totally.

Clean the water store with the chemical, and non-grinding texture (not dishwasher protected), by then flush beginning to end.

Check the valve at the lower part of the water unit and on the machine where the water unit goes. Sometimes, it gets impeded and causes an issue.

As of now, top off the water supply to the most limit level and spot it back in the machine. Guarantee it's put suitably.

Once done, check if the botch message is no more.

If the above plan couldn't fix the "add more water" screw up, it's an ideal chance to call Customer Care organization.

Issue 7: Keurig Touchscreen Not Turning On

Touchscreen issues are very fundamental with the new Keurig 2.0 brewers, and in as often as possible cases, either the touch doesn't work, or screen goes all unmistakable.

There's simply you can do except for unplugging the brewer and connection it back in. Blog

If a brewer inciting the starting a mix or water simply manage, the issue has been fixed viably, anyway if it's getting frozen or not working consistently, it's an ideal chance to call the Customer Service bunch for extra assistance.

Issue 8: Keurig Not Dispensing Water

Exactly when your Keurig got a water siphoning issue, you basically hear a type of beating noise as the Keurig siphon tries anyway fails to siphon the water through.

There could be a couple of reasons, yet likely it occurs because of water scaling, junk develop ups and intrudes with the water siphon.

Here is the possible strategy to fix this siphoning issue:

Simply take the water supply out, void it out and top off it about 33% of the way.

Shake the water around in the water store, void it totally and track down the opening from where the Keurig siphons water into the brewer.

Clean the opening totally and guarantee there's no junk that may hinder the movement of Keurig water siphoning.

Preferably, Keurig water siphoning should work adequately after this.

However, if it still not siphoning water, you can endeavor:

1. Expansion Turkey Baster

You can make a pass at embeddings the turkey baster into the part that interfaces the machine and water archive, with some water successfully in the unit.

You'll see, water gets cloudy as the scaling and junk are obliged into the Keurig water supply, giving the turkey container will all the waste from that part and simplifies it for the direct to push the water transparently, and you'd blend your delightful cup of coffee.

In case this is at this point not amazing, have a go at descaling the machine with a mix of vinegar and water and put it through a planning cycle.

In any case, envision a situation where the machine still not siphoning water.

It's sensible the motor is endeavoring to siphon the water yet can't do it. This might be a direct result of air bubbles have gotten into the machine, declining the siphon's ability to siphon the water.

Endeavor diverse shaking procedures to drive the pointless air out of the Keurig. If this was the issue, have a go at fixing off the water storehouse before it gets totally unfilled to prevent this issue again.

However, if you don't hear beating commotion and water isn't siphoning, this shows the motor may be out and out broken and for the present circumstance, motor or entire unit ought to be replaced.

Issue 9: Keurig Stuck on Preheating

Keurigs customarily take around 3 minutes for the basic preheating; if the association takes longer, maybe there's a significant issue with the machine. For the present circumstance, just unplug and attachment back the machine to start the getting ready cycle before long.

Guarantee there's adequate water in the store, and it's arranged suitably at its place. The issue should be fixed now.

However, if nothing happens, there's a technique that is represented to work for some Keurig customers. It incorporates filling the water tank with warm water. Thusly, Keurig should see bubbling water and start working again.

Keep in mind, Keurig proposes simply adding cool water in the tank, so in case you follow the above procedure, benevolently do it at your own peril.

In any case, if the issue really couldn't be fixed, call Keurig Customer Care for extra assistance.

Issue 10: Keurig Is Giving a "Prime" Error Message

This bumble message shows there's low or no water is coordinating among outside and inside water storehouse. This can be a direct result of a little pack of reasons:

Storehouse is cockeyed

Storehouse is chaotic

Junk impeding the needles

This can without a very remarkable stretch be fixed by cleaning your Keurig and testing it with a water-simply brew cycle.

We should start with the cleaning of the water store to check whether this bumble proceeds. Here is the direction to do it:

Switch off and unplug the machine. Dispense with the water supply and void it completely.

Take a drenched material and use clean water and delicate dish cleaning agent to scour inside the water tank.

At whatever point you are done cleaning. Wash it totally and top off it.

Spot back the water storehouse and guarantee it's arranged properly.

By and by run test water simply blend cycle without using a K-Cup.

Playing out this cycle ought to dispose of the dirt for basic coordinating of water between the provisions, and "Prime" botch message should evaporate.

Notwithstanding, in case this doesn't clear the "Prime" botch message, you may similarly need to take out the refuse from the needles and holder moreover.

Here's the methods by which to do it:

Temperament executioner and unplug Keurig. Wipe out the water vault and void it completely.

Delicately lift the machine's handle. Hold the Keurig steady in one hand and use your other hand to pull the part back holder out of the machine.

Immovably hold the part down holder with one hand, and using your other hand pull the line out of the holder.

Use the spot of a paper catch to scratch around the inner parts dividers of the back section of the holder. This will help unstick if there's any junk that may be clung to the dividers.

Force and hold the holder and channel under the water until all the dirt is no more.

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marshmallow-phd · 5 years

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Innocent Intentions

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Tao x Reader

Summary: There was one thing you couldn’t stand in all your years at college: playboys. And the campus was riddled with them. So when Tao - a player with a particularly well-known reputation - inserts himself into your life, you come up with a plan to get rid of him, whether he makes your heart race or not. But the more he’s the around, the more you just might find there’s a hidden layer underneath all the rumors, including a secret you never could have guessed….

Warning: Mild cursing (let me have this warning guys)

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

So close. So freaking close.

Tao could still feel your warm breath on his face, each shallow take like a caress beckoning him closer. His own heart was speeding away in his chest. The pounding against his sternum hurt worse than pain he’d suffered through in the past. He just wanted to know what you tasted like. Sweeter than the nectar of the gods, that was his guess.

But you didn’t let him take that forbidden bite. You pulled away and Tao was smart enough – decent enough – to not try again, to not push you when you were finally letting him take a step to shrink the gap between you.

Not even the wind whipping at his face as he drove down the deserted road back to the farmhouse could help him relax like it used to. Now he was regretting saying that he wouldn’t be showing up on Friday. But he already promised Sehun that he’d go out with him, not that Tao would have much fun anyway. What was the point of going out if you weren’t there to enjoy it with him?

Leaning his head back, he sighed and then ran one hand through his hair while keeping the other on the wheel. At least he could say he was making progress. When Anica showed up and you took off, Tao thought he was done for. He thought you would never trust another word he said ever again. But like the angel you were, you gave him another chance. He just hoped that he didn’t run out of this luck.

Everyone was crowded in the kitchen, buzzing with chatter. Even Tao was grinning, happy to let loose some of this energy. He and Sehun had come home early last night since Tao was “sucking the fun with all his pouting”. From his own memory, he argued that he wasn’t pouting, but he was thankful to fall down in his own bed anyway.

“Okay!” Junmyeon yelled, getting the crowd to quiet down a few decimals. “Let’s go! And remember to stick together!”

Tao was one of the first out the back door, nearly tripping over himself as he tried to keep his speed and rid himself of his jeans at the same time. He was too excited for all of them to be running together. With such a large pack, it was safer to go in smaller groups, less likely to be noticed by the wrong person. But with all twelve together, it felt more complete.

Before his paws could hit the treeline, however, Junmyeon called out for him to stop. Whining, he turned around to see why. Luhan and Kris were taking their sweet ass time coming out from the house.

Tao growled, rumbling low in his throat. Hurry up!

Calm down, Tao, Kyungsoo huffed.

When the two older wolves finally joined them, they all took off into the woods.

Tao stayed near the middle of the pack, not going to fast to avoid the barking of Junmyeon, who thought some of the others were getting a little too far ahead at times. While focusing on the pattern of his paws against the wet forest floor, someone came up behind him and snipped at the fur around his shoulder. Tao whipped around and growled at Baekhyun, who was wheezing out a laugh. The former wolf nudged the latter hard once he fell into step with him.

Enjoying the game, Baekhyun shoved him as well. Back and forth, they went, adding more and more force behind each one. Unfortunately, Tao used too much muscle and sent Baekhyun rolling down to the ground. Tao skidded to a stop and turned around, cringing at the mess he’d made.

Baekhyun only came to a stop once he’d taken Luhan down with him. Both shook off the tumble, Baekhyun apologizing as Junmyeon came running in a panic.

What’s going on?

With his head hanging down, Tao whimpered, It’s my fault, Junmyeon.

Nah, it’s my fault, Baekhyun snorted, finding the humor in the situation. I started it. It’s easy to forget how strong Tao can be sometimes. You know, considering it’s Tao.

Tao stared at him, letting the implication hang in the air for a second. If he wanted to say that Tao looked weak, he’d show him the exact opposite. But just as he began to growl and step forward, Kris stopped him.

Just leave it, Tao, Kris ordered.

Finding out it was all simply the wolves messing around, Junmyeon sighed. Okay. Let’s get- He stopped. Wait. His ears straightened up.

Jongdae tilted his head in confusion. Did you hear some-

Shush, Junmyeon snapped. After another second of straining to listen, he ordered, Everyone get behind me!

No one hesitated in that demand, shuffling quickly to their positions with Junmyeon and Kris at the head. Every muscle in Tao’s body was tense, ready for a fight if it came to that. There were too many possibilities of what could be lurking in their woods. Some were harmless, others would take the whole pack to fight off.

Then, out of the shadows in front of them emerged a wolf pack about half their size. But while a small sense of relief was rippling through the members, Tao felt himself stiffen even more when he recognized the particular wolves that had joined them.

Kris, too, recognized their old friends, shifting back into a human as he greeted, “Well, long time no see, Kun.”

After Luhan also transformed back into his human form, Tao reluctantly followed suit with the others.

Baekhyun, who was still standing beside Tao, had to go and point out the very obvious situation that Tao was hoping to avoid. “You have a girl in your pack?”

Yeah, Tao snorted mentally. A particularly heartless one.

“It’s not completely unheard of, asshole,” Lyn barked.

Junmyeon immediately jumped into diplomat mode. “Please, excuse Baekhyun, his mouth doesn’t exactly have a filter and whatever he’s thinking just comes out.”

It was a bit comical how everyone was avoiding looking directly at Lyn, in case their eyes drifted somewhere they really shouldn’t. But while the others were doing it to avoid the small chance of their mate finding out, Tao was practically drowning in a sea of awkwardness as he looked away. Maybe she would see him among the crowd. Hardly unlikely, but he still hoped.

He couldn’t quite describe what emotions were brewing inside his chest at the moment. The pain that Lyn had left him with was long gone, but the ghost of the scar still lingered. When the three of them had moved on from Kun’s territory, Tao’s only sense of relief was that he’d probably never have to see Lyn again. And yet, there she was, standing there in front of him, seemingly unaffected by what had occured between them.

“What are you doing here?” Kris asked curiously.

The smile that Kun had been wearing from seeing old friends disappeared as he crossed his arms over his chest. “A rumor reached our ears about a hidden hunter somewhere in the area.”

“A hunter?” Chanyeol growled ferociously. “Who? Who is it?”

Fin, who was Kun’s second, admitted, “We don’t know.”

“So, then, you guys are just passing through?” Luhan questioned with a strange tenor in his voice. But Tao didn’t linger on the odd tone of his brother. He was probably just nervous. Hunters put them all on edge.

“We planning to spend the next week around town.” Kun turned to Kris and Junmyeon. “If that’s alright, of course.”

Kris nodded while scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, not a problem. I, uh, I’d offer our place, but….”

“That’s alright,” Kun chuckled. “I’m sure that farmhouse you told us about is more than full with your pack. Still think you’re all crazy for having one so huge. And by the looks of it, the house has almost double the occupants.”

Jongdae frowned. “What makes you say that?”

The other pack’s leader snorted. “Please. I’m not blind to the way you are all acting like Lyn doesn’t exist right now.” With a softer look, he to his old friend. “You, too, huh, Kris?”

A proud grin stretched across Kris’ lips. “Yeah. Soon after coming back.”

“And he’s a father,” Sehun added from the back.

That really took Kun by surprise. “A dad? Wow. Things certainly have changed.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Kris said quickly. His demeanor changed as he thought of his fiance and child. “But I’m happy.”

“That’s all that matters.”

“I think we should talk more about this hunter rumor.” Junmyeon glanced back at Lyn for a split second before he cleared his throat. “Maybe back at the farmhouse… and clothed.”

“Good idea.” Kun turned to his members and gestured out with his head for them to follow. All nineteen wolves took off in the direction of the farmhouse, getting there quickly and without incident.

Once Tao and his brothers were dressed, they headed inside with Kun’s pack on their tails. Poor Evie, who was cleaning out the fridge to get rid of the strange smell she’d been complaining about earlier that morning, was unsuspecting as she looked to find herself no longer along.

“You guys are home early.”

Kris, unable to help himself, walked right up to her and gave her a quick kissing before answering. “We, uh, ran into some old friends that need to talk to us.”

“Old friend- oh goodness!” Evie held a hand up to block her view of Kun’s pack who’d just filed into the kitchen.

Kris was struggling to keep a straight face as he suggested, “Baobei, why don’t you go grab the clothes sitting in the front parlor that were packed for donation?”

“I would be more than happy to do that.” Evie ran out of there quicker than a deer running from a predator. She held the overstuffed trash bag of clothes up like a shield when she came back.

“Where’s Mei?” Jongin asked when he noticed the little pup wasn’t around.

“She’s already down for the night,” Evie answered. “But, you know, I think I’m going to go check on her.” Dropping the bag, she ran downstairs where she deemed it safer.

“Nice catch,” Kun teased Kris.

“I like to think so,” Kris replied honestly as he stared after Evie. In the past, the exchange would have made Tao gag, but now he understood all too well where the alpha was coming from. The little things that their mates did could send their hearts into a frenzy and that feeling within itself was almost addicting.

The others in Kun’s pack were already ruffling through the donation pile, save Lyn. While the rest of them were always more rowdy and obnoxious, Lyn preferred to be more reserved, showing the fact that she was a female wasn’t the only thing that set her apart from the others.

When the others cleared the area, dressed in pants and shirts that roughly fit them, Lyn moved forward and started rifling through the pile. Her fingers lingered on a black shirt that Tao had decided last week wasn’t his style anymore. Before he could stop himself, Tao stepped in, grabbing a red sweatshirt instead. His hand was around her wrist, but the heat between them had been snuffed out. There was no reaction to the contact and, even though he shouldn’t have expected anything else, he was relieved.

“Wear this one.” He tried to remain a dry, uninterested tone, but his actions were screaming much louder than his words. He could feel the questioning stares from his brothers burning into his back. Only Kris and Luhan knew about Lyn and Tao much preferred to keep it that way. His intrusion in helping her pick out clothes pretty much gave it away.

“Thank you,” Lyn whispered, not really making eye contact with him.

Unable to take the tension anymore, Tao slipped out the back door. Kris or Sehun could catch him up on whatever came out of this little meeting, if it was even productive. He didn’t go far, not leaving the backyard. The space was enough for him to clear his head as he sat down in the grass, leaning back until his shoulder blades hit the dewy soil. His fingers were folded behind his head like a pillow and he let his eyes drifted closed as the sound of nature echoed around him.

The early morning sun was starting to peek through the shades of the window, creating a striped pattern across the tan carpet. It was quiet save for the birds chirping their morning songs, giving it their best effort to enchant the sun for a beautiful day. Tao was trying to slip on his boot as quietly as he could, but his attempt was worthless. The stiff shoe was refusing to go on easy, making Tao grunt from the effort.

Behind him, the bed shifted and two thin, delicate arms snaked around his waist while a pair of soft lips pressed into his shoulder exposed by his white tank top. A shiver of delight ran down his spine.

“Sneaking out already?” Lyn purred in his ear.

“Kris called,” Tao explained with a sigh. If he had his way, he’d just stay in that bed all day. “He wants me and Luhan to help him with a lead.”

“I thought he was running away from the alphas. Not trying to find them?”

Tao snorted. “And be considered a coward? Nah. Kris wants to end them. He just needs to figure out how first.”

“And so you have to leave me?” Lyn’s pout was easily caught in the corner of Tao’s eye.

He shifted in his spot, grabbing her wrists and gently leaning her back onto the bed so he was hovering above her. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I promise.”

Lyn raised an eyebrow teasingly. “And you expect me to wait for you?”

Rolling his eyes, Tao let go of her and stood up. “Your games are annoying, you know that?”

“I’m sorry,” Lyn sighed. She slowly got up to her feet and hugged Tao from the back. “It’s just a habit. Letting someone in isn’t the easiest thing for me, you know.”

“Yeah, I do,” Tao mumbled. Gently breaking her hold on him, he turned around and stared into her eyes. “You’ve told me. And I asked you to just give me a chance. But if you keep pushing me away like this, I don’t know if I’d come back again.”

Lyn licked her lips thoughtfully. A silence hung in the air for a moment or two. Tao could feel his heart racing in anxiety while he waited for her reply. He’d never felt like this before. He’d never meant to get this attached to Lyn when they first met, but now… now he was her prisoner, at her beck and call and he couldn’t find a reason to hate it. If she severed his shackles in this exchange, he’d be broken beyond compare.

“I want you to come back… and to stay.”

The admittance took Tao by surprise. He just stared at her as the seconds ticked by, trying to absorb the honesty that resonated in every word.

Then he kissed her. Deeply, desperately. Lyn’s hands quickly removed the tank top that Tao had just put back on before pulling him back onto the bed. Kris could wait a few more minutes.

Memories of that nature used to bring Tao so much pain, when he allowed himself to bring them to the surface. It was the kind of pain that he tried to cover up with date after date, hook up after hook up, though nothing had ever worked. It was always there, lingering while he lied there and stared up at the ceiling, his latest conquest sound asleep beside him.

But now they were simply that - memories. No emotional attachments, no significance, just events that happened to him in the past that had been depleted of all their power.

“It’s pretty out here.”

Tao’s eyes snapped open and he jumped up to a sitting position. He easily composed his surprised face as Lyn sat down next to him in the grass. She didn’t look at him, keeping her own gaze up at the sky as if she were trying to count the stars shining up there. He kept any words he had to say trapped in his throat, waiting for her to speak first.

“You seem to be doing good,” she commented, finally looking over to him.

“More than good,” Tao admitted. “How have you been?” It only seemed polite to ask and he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Getting up and walking away seemed like a bad option, because he figured out what emotion was manifesting as he stayed near Lyn.

Irritation. Pure and unmistakable irritation.

“Fucking terrible,” was her reply.

Tao snorted. “Oh, yeah? And why is that?”

Hurting her wasn’t exactly Tao’s main goal in sending those words her way, but that’s exactly what happened.

Her eyes began to gloss over as she looked at him with her mouth - the one he’d kissed a hundred times with love and desperation - hanging open. “Why do you think? I had to watch you walk away, Zitao. And now seeing you again….”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” he growled. “You chose to watch me walk away.” Thinking back to that moment, he scoffed. “In fact, you made me walk away when you ended it. When you threw away every promise you ever made and told me to just deal with the fact that you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

Lyn, keeping up that tough exterior Tao always hated, rolled her eyes. “Damn, you sound like a girl.”

That was it. Why was he even entertaining this conversation?

Jumping up to his feet, Tao yelled, “Screw you, Lyn!”

“Technically, you did,” she mumbled.

“God, what did I ever see in you!” Tao was ordering his feet to walk away, but they refused to obey. Because even though he felt nothing for her anymore - not love or attraction - even though he had you now, he still wanted an explanation. All these years, he’d been in the dark as to why she’d pushed him away after holding him so close. What was it that had suddenly changed?

It lingered over him and he was sure it was effecting how he coming off towards you. Because - whether he wanted to admit it or not - Lyn’s rejection made him wonder if he was good enough for you. If even Lyn didn’t want him, why would you ever see something worthy in him? “Why did you even bother to come out here?”

Lyn pushed herself up, folding her arms defiantly. But the coldness was beginning to melt away. “Because it hurts. Seeing you again. And I needed to confirm what I thought after seeing you in the woods.”

“It hurts?” Tao norted. “And you want a confirmation? Of what? Why should I confirm anything for you when you couldn’t give me a simple explanation back then?”

“I told you why!” Lyn shouted, finally showing some real emotion. “I told you there was no way I was going to be pushed aside for some measly human someday. At first, you and me, it was just fun. But then it became more than that for me. And I know it was always more for you. But some day you were going to find your mate and I was going to be left behind. I had to let you go before that happened.”

Tao shook his head. Sure, the reason was a good one. But she didn’t say that back then. She did say that she didn’t think they were meant to be together. And technically, she was right. They weren’t mates. They had others out there waiting for them. “You should have talked to me about it. We could have worked something out, prepared for that day.”

“What would be the point? It was still inevitable.”

Tao had no argument anymore. So he simply shrugged, hands in his pockets. Even his irritation was gone. It wasn’t because he wasn’t worthy. It was due to Lyn’s insecurities- her justified insecurities. Now he felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry, Lyn. I still think we should have talked about it, but I understand.”

Tears started to fall down her cheeks. The whole time Tao had been with Lyn, she’d never cried. She always held it in. He figured it always had to do with the fact that she was a female werewolf. A rarity that stunned even those born into this world. It was a situation that came with its own complications and struggles beyond just turning into a giant dog. So, she played the tough girl, the robot. But Tao had seen little pieces of humanity in her. Never this much though. He felt sorry for her, the fact that she was this fractured. It was like looking into a mirror that showed his past self.

“You see,” she sniffed, wiping the tears away. “This is why I ended it when I did. The indifferent look you’re giving me right now… it’s torture.”

Tao frowned, shocked at how easily she saw it. “Lyn, I-”

“I hope she treats you better than I did.”

The reflexive smile started to pull at Tao’s lips as your face filled his mind. “She-”

“Please don’t,” Lyn begged. “I don’t want to hear about her. Just… be happy.”

Sighing, Tao pulled her into his arms, hugging her close. At first, Lyn accepted the gesture, leaning into his chest. He could feel the little drops of warm water fall onto his skin as she struggled to hold back the tears. But then she pushed him away. With one last look in his direction, she gave him a sad smile and walked back towards the house.

There was a finality to this moment. It was like the chapter that had been haunting him was finally coming to a close and he could start the next one; the one that starred you. The scar was healed, nothing but a smooth surface left behind. Now when he offered his heart to you, he could give you something that was whole and fully yours with a confidence that he hadn’t really had before.

With one last look up at the sky, Tao smiled crookedly, wistfully. Maybe he shouldn’t have ever started something with Lyn. Maybe he could have saved them both a lot of pain. But he couldn’t change the past. But he could move forward. He could move towards you, his bright and beautiful future.

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #tao x reader #huang zitao #z.tao #tao #exo series #exo supernatural au #Innocent Intentions #untamed wolf universe

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catchandelier · 4 years

Text

We’re staying at a hotel tonight, or so has been the repeated line from higher perches than mine, as I don’t have the money in this relationship and I don’t drive either. In the normal course of life- even the abnormal course of life under quarantine- my lack of driving was no great hardship. I have legs and I am glad of their use; and before the quarantine, I had a rather good grasp of the public transport system. At the very least, I could get where I meant to when I meant to, and back home again in a reasonable time.

I wonder: will the bus stops still be there? The train stations? The bank isn’t, after all.

Some of the graffiti down lake street as we headed out: No Justice, No Peace; Fuck 12; George Floyd Presente!; Make Being Black Legal; Mama I Can’t Breathe. These are also the slogans that stuck. The only one I requested explanation of is the significance of 12, and thus why it should get fucked; 12 references an outdated police code for drugs, or perhaps a segment officers tasked with the apprehension of those selling drugs.

On our way out, I saw murals untouched by violence of any kind, unmarred by spray paint; I saw ordinary people, in their long sleeves and masks and gloves, with trash bags and brooms and a will to help; I saw the empty burned out husk of a store I shopped in last year; I saw USPS mail cars being loaded onto a truck of their own in preparation for evacuation; I saw police cars hiding behind concrete dividers, kin or kind to those seen during highway construction. It strikes me now that the police in that car perhaps think the concrete will protect them. It won’t; but they will still be surprised when it doesn’t.

I am outside the city now, and from the window of my room I can see the airport (instantly obsolete the day it opened, poor thing) and no planes fly from it, and now under curfew there are no cars, or at least very few, passing by in the night. This of course means there is very little interfering noise from here back and back to the heart- I can hear all the sirens downtown from all the way at the airport. I can hear it through the glass window. I can hear it through eight stories of air and a wide parking lot and fifteen-twenty-half an hour of highway. It is faded and distorted by distance, but I Know; faded enough that I almost thought the sound was ringing only in my head. It isn’t; and I was still surprised that it isn’t.

I am thankful I can’t hear the pop of teargas. It sounds like gunfire; which is to say, it sounds like a small firecracker, or a champagne popper with depth. The movies are for entertainment; they don’t have to show you, or let you hear, the truth if a bit of film-flam makes for the better story. I can say now, I prefer the story. Would that all guns were just heavy toys to make it easier to pretend.

Friday morning from behind our front window; a building about a block away was on fire, the flames licked and danced above the blocking roof of the bank, which also (eventually) burned; and it was a very strange and poignant moment, when brown smoke smeared the sky grey to the left of my position viewing the fire, and to the right, the clear blue sky dazzled with clean white clouds I’ve come to expect this time of year. In the windowsill, our noisy and bold cat, who is quite small in size- such that I sometimes forget she only weighs eight pounds when I haven’t picked her up in a while. On the couch, below the window, our other cat, nervous and desiring only to be at someone, anyones, side. He, I think, ate a brick when no one was watching; perhaps it is his slight personality that makes his dense body such a shock. The small one doesn’t care if you hold her; the large one wants to be put down, now, after a measured count of eight.

The foul smoke that rose from this conflagration- and the others that dotted the city- so nauseated me that day, I did not eat until half past noon, when my head ached with hunger. The miasma of tear gas diluted in the air was so thick on the Wednesday before the Thursday before that day, I couldn’t help getting a pernicious sinus headache that I woke with, and went to sleep with, and could not escape even in filtered air.

The poison was already inside me, you see.

I was reminded that day of this: although people have their squabbles and ruinations, the greater whole of nature doesn’t give a shit. The cat in the windowsill slept; the cat on the couch was no more nervous than he always is. Somehow, I find it heartening. The world goes on. The poison is cleared; and if damage remains, so what? I am alive to be damaged, and heal.

As we left, I saw there were people sweeping the streets of broken glass-front shops and a building that was only a little bit still on fire, mostly on the roof, or so I heard; I couldn’t actually see it from my spot in the car. There was a dollar store burned to rubble, smoke still rising from its leech colored soot-blacked bones; the liquor store, the bank, the targets, and more still, looted and burned. And more people coming to see and join and fight; my friend Hannah who went out today- yes, this very day- and stood in protest at the capital, which is St Paul. My friend Hannah, who is brave, and white, and this day in such terrible danger I felt as if time would not move until I heard she was safe again. She is safe, just to gut that small moment of tension for you.

(I will thank you not to conflate Minneapolis with St Paul. The Twin Cities have different counties, and were built in different eras of urban design; one is Catholic and one is Protestant; one is moneyed and the other classed; one has a garbage disposal service that works, and the other has ruined their alleys with mercenary action. Prince came from Minneapolis, not St. Paul. I quite like Minneapolis and Minnesota, for all its warts and horrors, and I will get snippy about this little thing. The big things, I think, are well past snips.)

South Minneapolis is home to a number of anarchists, and to them I give thanks- for it is they who had a whole entire fire hose- a real one- and perhaps a wrench, and it was our block’s community that wrangled the thrashing thing in place long enough to douse the bank. My father, and my stepmom’s sisters husband, were among that community. They are also quite brave, I think.

My personal notes on the escape and subsequent confinement inherent in fleeing riots and rioters and flames and other such insurrections:

Bring a book. Bring your game system- Switch, Xbox, gameboy etc. You might think it’s just a digitized version of cocaine or opium, but oh what a blessing to be able to not think and worry about things you have no power to change; to escape somewhere the world can not touch but in such and such prescribed way, and that you can change in any way you’d like.

Animal Crossing is a very good game.

You will stay longer than a night, pack for longer than one night; you will get tired of food rationed from what you can order. You will not get tired of not having to do dishes, but you will get tired of not having a full sized trash can or any replacement trash bags.

You will get bored, and miss your homely comforts, the weight of your bedding and the mess of your things. You will miss your pets and your projects and your games you left at home because they were too heavy to take with you.

You will miss your laundry room. Bring laundry detergent, and dryer sheets, and that pouch of coins you never use because why would you.

You will not miss the noise; but the new uncertainty, laid atop your back (which aches from the weight of plague’s uncertainty) like a fine sharp knife, will steal sleep from your eyes and thin your last nerve to the very edge of breaking. Even with the silence, and perhaps the privacy.

You will want to start fights and be rude and cruel for no reason other than you know how, and can, and are bored, and you can only really control yourself at this point. You won’t actually do these things because you’re still a person, for now, and you’d like to still be a person at the end of all this.

You will continue to hope for an end, and ignore the news as best you can because it’s all lurid and terrible and you really just want a breakfast where you don’t have to aggressively find reasons the world isn’t a terrible place.

(The world is not a terrible place, for clarity’s sake. I’m just a little tired of the weather and cnn at free breakfast when all I want is an omelette and some juice.)

You’ll find ways to cope, again; you’ll find ways to resolve yourself to waiting, again. You’ll start a new book, or a different project, or take a nap. You’ll make a new schedule, to stave off boredom, again.

You will and should and can do all of those things; I give you permission. But.

Under absolutely no circumstances can you allow yourself to believe that the deprivation and calamity we are experiencing right now is in any way normal. Let no one, not even yourself, convince you that this- this state of the world, the quarantine, the too-closeness of your family and the distance from your friends, your skin crawling over itself with restless unending boredom- is normal. Revolution is necessary; it is not normal. Quarantine is necessary; it is not normal.

Aim for acceptable. But don’t accept it.

Oh, and if you’re up to it, do try and take more than two nearly good photos of a total five- human memory has an unfortunate habit of failure. Scars and memories fade away; but photographic glory is forever.

[To gut some more of that dramatic tension for you, we’re all safe and at home now. But the rebellion rages on.]

#RiotZone #show them what rebellion means #rise up #godspeed rebels

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ladyhallen · 5 years

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Prompt: Tsuna wakes up in someone's bed

Tsuna wakes up with someone’s hand on his stomach.

It’s a pretty nice hand – large, warm and perfect.

Still, the fact is, Tsuna usually slept alone. It’s too much of a hassle to find partners that his Guardians won’t eviscerate when found in his bed. Or Reborn. Let’s not talk about Reborn’s reaction. The asshole probably thought Tsuna was still a child.

Tsuna had needs, alright?

He’s getting distracted. Who’s the owner of said hand?

With a sigh, Tsuna turns and opens his eyes.

And squeaks.

It’s better than a scream, alright?

Not everybody would be fine seeing Xanxus di Vongola in their bed.

Shit, it’s not even his bed. Which meant that it’s Tsuna in Xanxus’s bed.

He tries to process this. He fails.

Like an ill-timed alarm clock, there’s a shout of, “Voi!!!!!!” sounding through the doors.

“Fuck off, Squalo!” Xanxus roars back, making Tsuna jump. He didn’t even know that Xanxus was awake.

“Xanxus, you’re awake?” Tsuna asks, biting the proverbial bullet. It’s difficult to find his courage, given that he was naked, without his weapons and in perfect proximity for Xanxus to shoot. Or punch. Xanxus isn’t usually picky when it comes to venting out his frustrations on Vongola Decimo.

“I’m not,” Xanxus refuted. “Stop talking and go back to sleep.”

It’s very, very hard to remember that Xanxus can kill him with that bed head and that adorable grumpy scowl that makes Tsuna want to coo at him. Stone cold killers shouldn’t be cute.

Tsuna shakes his head and makes to get up, only to bite back a squeak of alarm when that hand – which he had forgotten was on his stomach – tightens its hold on him and drags him closer to that warm, sleepy torso.

“Stop squirming,” Xanxus grumbled. Tsuna sighed and doesn’t protest anymore.

Both of them get comfortable, sleep creeping up on the edges of Tsuna’s mind.

Of course, that’s when the door bursts open, Tsuna’s Guardian’s in a panic as they search for their wayward Decimo.

Xanxus gets off him in an instant, guns suddenly sprouting from his hands and shooting everyone moving, even any of the Varia stupid enough to go near Xanxus’s room without any coffee.

Tsuna just groans, covering his face with a pillow and going back to sleep.

It’s not use, his Guardian’s drag his unresisting body back to the Medical Wing, convinced that he’d been drugged.

He’s too embarrassed to tell them that he just fell asleep on Xanxus while both of them were consuming the wine he’d brought to the Varia as a, “my father sucks too, can we commiserate about it,” party.

And then, he does end up nearly assassinated and everyone’s too busy hunting down the perpetrators to find him regular bodyguards. Or rather, even Hayato is too pissed off to stay by Tsuna’s side.

Given that his birthday cake got poisoned with Bianchi nowhere near it, he did concede the point that it had been getting a bit personal.

Still, who volunteered the Varia to be the bodyguards of the week? They needed to be shot.

“You’re staying with me,” Xanxus tells him. “We can’t spare the people to watch over you.”

What Xanxus means about that is clear until it isn’t.

Well, it’s clear that he’s going to be making use of Xanxus’s office as he works on his paperwork. It’s also understandable that he’s going to have all his food tested and he’s going to end up eating with Xanxus.

What’s not clear is where he’s going to sleep until he’s dragged in his pajamas to Xanxus’s room, and to his large bed.

“What,” he asked, more a statement than a question.

“Get in,” Xanxus growled sleepily. “I told you I can’t spare anybody to watching you. So you’re with me.”

He climbed in. He’s willingly climbing into Xanxus’s bed. What even is his life?

Tsuna didn’t know, but he’s willing to bet that it’s Reborn’s fault.

And then it happens again.

By the third time, Tsuna’s resigned to the fact that fate wants him to end up in Xanxus’s bed. It’s no hardship, despite what other people think.

Tsuna gets cold pretty easily – a remnant of the seal that Nonno placed him under – and Xanxus was practically a bonfire. He’s also pretty comfy to sleep on, warm with all the right firm parts to lean on.

He also cuddled. It didn’t look like it, but Xanxus was a champion cuddler.

Tsuna, who had been touch starved by the time Reborn got to him, never refused cuddles.

So no, it wasn’t a hardship.

Except Tsuna’s Guardians refuse to accept that Xanxus was the perfect bedmate. They were pretty sure he was being coerced to staying put.

Tsuna didn’t have the heart to tell them that aside from the first morning, he wasn’t being coerced. In fact, he’s pretty much finding excuses to doing it.

“You’re weird, you know that, little Decimo,” Squalo cornered him on his way out one morning.

Tsuna’s learned to translate what Squalo means. Filtering out the curses and the yelling barely takes him any effort these days.

He blinked at this though. He doesn’t have the context so he doesn’t get offended. Yet. There’s still time for the offense. With the Varia, it’s practically sport.

“A lot of people want to sleep with the boss,” Squalo clarified. “But most of those people don’t stay once the wine glasses start getting thrown around. Or the cursing.”

Tsuna wants to sigh, but holds it in. People should stop underestimating him, he wanted to mutter, except it was so useful to be underestimated.

“I’m not ‘people’,” he said to Squalo quietly. “I’m Tsuna.”

Squalo smirked. “Yeah. So you are.”

A few months in, and Tsuna realized that his Guardians have stopped dramatically bursting into the Varia headquarters.

Not that he doesn’t appreciate it, but when his Guardians start behaving, that means something’s going to break soon. And he’s usually the one signing off on the repair bills.

“You guys are too quiet,” he accused Takeshi, stopping him on his way to breakfast.

Takeshi laughed. Whoever said that Takeshi was easy to interrogate was lying. “You’re so suspicious, Tsuna!”

Hayato would only sigh at him. Ryohei clapped him on the back and Chrome just kissed his cheek.

He didn’t even try with Hibari or Mukuro.

The only person who gave him some sort of insight was Lambo. The thirteen year old frowned at him, saying, “We’re just giving in to the inevitable. Everyone else was in denial? I think the only one you have to convince at the moment is Reborn.”

Tsuna blinked blankly. “What?”

Lambo blinked blankly back. “Reborn? Greatest Hitman in the World? Has the unfortunate habit of shooting people when they piss him off?”

Tsuna shaked his head. “No, I mean, what?”

At this point, Lambo started to smile. “Oh my god, you don’t know? I’m not going to tell you, I like being alive.”

Tsuna got nothing else from him.

He’s so confused, at this point, he really would welcome another assassination. At least that’s straightforward.

And then Xanxus gets drunk and Tsuna’s the one dragging his ass to Tsuna’s bed this time. Which is a novelty since contrary to popular belief, Xanxus only drinks in the Varia HQ, where he knows everyone and he’s secure of his own safety.

“I can’t believe you got drunk in the Iron Fort,” Tsuna muttered. “This must be what Nonno means about furthering the relationship between various allies. At least you trust me enough not to kill you.”

A heavy warm arm wraps itself around Tsuna’s waist and hauls him towards the sleepy figure.

Since he’s practically been Pavloved with cuddles, Tsuna just goes boneless and doesn’t resist.

“Don’t shoot me in the morning,” Tsuna said to the ceiling.

Tsuna doesn’t get shot, but Xanxus looks at him strangely in the morning.

He’s completely sure that the breakfast and coffee tray he brought was the shocker. Everyone in Italy seems to find it surprising that he can cook his own food.

“I brought you breakfast,” Tsuna announced, holding up the tray like an offering. “Is bacon alright? I also fried some eggs.”

Xanxus hesitated before eating, but his expression of delight at the edible food made Tsuna feel warm.

“Put the tray on the floor and come back to bed,” Tsuna announced after he brushed his teeth. “Squalo met me outside earlier and told me he cleared our schedule for today.”

“Trash, what are you doing?” Xanxus finally asked.

Tsuna looked at him in confusion. “Sleeping in? I swear, I spend all my vacation days sleeping. Riding herd on my Guardians gives me sleepless nights. They cause me insomnia, I swear.”

Xanxus stared for a few more minutes before huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. Mine too. Come here,” he gestured.

Tsuna willingly snuggled into those warm arms.

Xanxus’s expression was bemused, but he was also smiling. Tsuna took note, but didn’t really try to think about why. His Intuition tugged at him, but he ignored it. He was warm, sleepy and having a Vacation Day.

Part 2 coming up...

#fanfiction #katekyo hitman reborn #khr #sawada tsunayoshi #xanxus #prompts #prompt fill

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