#and we’re just like sir it’ll be a few days yet but here’s some fresh stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonlit-imagines · 3 years

Text

The Doctor Is In

Stephen Strange x reader

Bruce Banner x reader (platonic)

warnings:

a/n: hey! idk how to build stairs guys. i didnt feel like researching it. i dont care if it’s wrong. leave me alone. part 2/2.

prompt:

Out (1)

There was no hope of Stephen coming back. Every truth you had to face was harsher than the last. Even when you got home and realized that Wong was among the vanished...and he didn’t fix the stairwell.

Maybe the stairwell was a good thing. It gave you something to focus on in these hard times. Sure, it’d been a month since the incident, but that still wasn’t enough time for the world to heal. That meant that contractors were hard to come by. But the roof would have a tarp over it for some time. No way you’d deal with that.

So you took a trip to the hardware store, you stocked up on wood and nails, lacquer and wood stain. Anything else you needed for the project. Anything to keep you busy.

There were so many sleepless nights. You hated being alone in Sanctum, hated being alone in your bed. Every so often you would nap on the couch, but then you’d get right back to work. Weeks on end you spent on the stairwell. How long will you stick around while I talk about the stairwell?

Doctor Banner called you from time to time. His voicemails were kind, heartfelt, but you couldn’t stop now. The gutted stairwell from a couple weeks ago was coming by very nicely. As nice as it could when worked on my an amateur. Alright, it looked awful, but you couldn’t stand using a ladder to get to the second floor.

As you were staining the wood, you played a message from Bruce:

“Doctor L/N, it’s Bruce. I hope you’re doing alright, but you know that if you’re not, I’m here for you. All the remaining Avengers have kind of...gone their separate ways for the most part, they’re pretty broken up about everything. I just want you to know that because you don’t...have to be strong right now. I understand if you can’t be. Just call me back whenever you can? I want to make sure you’re alright. We’re survivors, we should stick together.”

Bruce hadn’t known you long, but he was still a great person and friend. You should call him back, but if you lost focus, you may lose yourself. So you continued to wipe against the grain of the fresh stairs and moved to the next step. And the next. And the next.

The last step was the lacquer and seal. You were scared to finish up. What would you occupy yourself with once this was over? You thought about the answer until the very last step and admired your shabby craftsmanship. It’ll do. Or maybe you should tear it all down and start over? While you were thinking over your newest thought, your phone rang again. Bruce Banner.

“Hey, Bruce.” You answered the phone as you normally would and sat on the floor in front of your work.

“Y/N?” Bruce asked in disbelief. “Y/N, hey! How are you? I don’t know if you’ve been getting my calls..?”

“I have.” You quickly replied.

“Oh.” He quietly nodded to himself.

“I’m sorry, Bruce.” You realized your mistake and knew you may have come off as a little rude. He’d been nothing but kind to you, but you’d just realized you were alone today.

“No, no! It’s okay! I understand, don’t worry. What have you been up to?” His effort to start a conversation may be successful this time around.

“I fixed the stairwell. All of it. That’s what I’ve been doing the past few weeks. I just finished a few minutes ago.” You felt awkward talking to him. Not because of him, not at all. Just because you hadn’t really had any human contact in a while.

“I didn’t take you for a carpenter, Doctor.” Bruce was genuinely surprised with your skillset, you could hear it in his voice.

“And you still won’t once you see the job I did.” You actually managed to let out a chuckle. You didn’t know you could still do that.

“Oh, I hear ya loud and clear.” Bruce laughed, too. I wonder if he was having the same thoughts as you. “Y/N, do you want to go out to lunch like, now? I could use some company, maybe you could, too.”

“Yeah,” you checked the time on your watch, Stephen’s watch, and realized you worked through the night and day, “text me an address, I’ll meet you anywhere. See you soon.” You hung up pretty quickly, only to get ready ASAP. You were sort of covered in “stair supplies” and smelled like...not good. You’d take a quick shower, put on some clean clothes, and take off. Unfortunately, the stairs weren’t dry, so it was another round up the ladder.

—————

You finally took a trip back to your bedroom and shuffled through the closet filled with your...late husband’s clothing. It still smelled like him, surprisingly. You wondered just how long it would last. You hoped it’d be forever, but you grabbed your own clothes and quickly got dressed, then checked your phone to see that Bruce was running “a little late.” It’s okay, you were, too.

You took a seat on Stephen’s side of the bed and decided to snoop. Did it count as snooping if he was no longer here? You knew that he didn’t keep secrets from you, so what was the worst you could stumble upon? Books, books, and more books. But some were important books, ones detailing mystic arts. Maybe...maybe it was time to pick up a new skill. You stuffed the book in your bag and decided to head out now before you got too comfy in an actual bed.

—————

You and Bruce sat at a booth in the empty diner, awkwardly gazing over the menu while trying to stir up some conversation. It’d been a while since either of you had visited someone, you didn’t even know what to talk about.

“So, home renovations, huh?” Bruce asked while peaking over the fold of the laminated list.

“Something like that.” You sighed and set yours down and aside. “I know what I’m getting. What about you?”

“I just need a minute.” The only noise besides your bland conversation was the rustling of dishes in the back, which didn’t last for long. “Got it. A burger. That’ll do it.” Bruce announced and got the attention of the waiter.

Ordering took a second, but soon you and Bruce were alone again and ready to talk.

“How are the other Avengers? I know you said they went their separate ways, but...” You inquired and were surprised to see a smile crack on Bruce’s face. “What?”

“At least I know you listened to my voicemails.” He chuckled and took a sip of his iced tea. “They’re dealing with it. I don’t exactly know how. Nat’s staying at the compound, I’m sure she’s glad to have a home again. Cap went out on his own. Thor went back to his people. Tony and Pepper are trying to separate themselves from the world, I think. I don’t blame them. That’s all I know.” You stayed silent, but nodded along to his outer thoughts. “You alright?”

“I’m sorry, Bruce.” You started. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, leave you hanging. I just still don’t know how to take this. I keep thinking about what Stark told me when he came back. His whole ‘this will all make sense soon’ thing. Nothing about this makes sense to me.”

“Well, Strange was different, wasn’t he? He had that Stone, he had those powers, he might know something we don’t.” Bruce explained to you, an attempt to comfort you. “We’ve tried everything, y/n. Maybe it’s time to wait, maybe in time you’ll see that he sacrificed himself...for you.” You teared up at the scientist’s words and quickly wiped your eyes as the food was placed before you. “Thank you, sir.” Bruce said as the waiter walked off. “Hey, y/n? It’s okay that you’re hurting. I get it. But please don’t act like you’re alone. I’m gonna be here for you, okay?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled while hiding your wet eyes, “Me, too, Bruce.”

—————

When you got stressed out when you were younger, you threw yourself into your studies. Maybe that was why you were such an accomplished scientist. But what studies did you have now?

You had a library full of knowledge. It wasn’t your usual knowledge, but it would suffice. Now, the book that you’d snagged from Stephen’s bedside was a bit advanced for you, but that was okay. You had options.

Where would you even begin? This place was bigger than you remembered. Was this another spell? Did you know what you were talking about? Stop thinking, y/n. Start reading.

You picked out a book. You just ran with it. You recalled stories from Stephen. You remembered you needed the ring. What did he call it? Song ring? Sink ring? Slink ring?

Sling ring.

Not a problem, you could find one. Sanctum probably had tons. Maybe in Stephen’s study? You wished you had asked him more about his arts before, you just didn’t get it at the time.

One was stashed in a drawer. It was Stephen’s ring. The one he used himself. And it was the only one you could find, so it’d have to do. And so you got to studying.

The first time the air sparked by your hand was magical. Literally. But it made you feel something for the first time in nearly three months. And that was just the beginning. It felt like you were carrying on Stephen’s legacy in a way. You’d never be “Sorcerer Supreme,” but you didn’t have any intention of that. You just wanted his memory to live on, even if it were through you.

So you’d practice and you’d learn and you’d practice and you’d learn. You’d see Bruce whenever you could, and he soon noticed your mood change.

“I’m glad to see you happy for a change.” He told you while you walked through the park.

“Yeah, it feels great.” You told him while watching construction vehicles cleaning up the debris that had been lying around for months.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s with the ring?” He looked at your hand and you lifted it closer.

“Oh...it’s Stephen’s.” You simply stated.

“Is it like a wedding ring?” He took a closer look and let you laugh it up for a quick second.

“No, no!” You shook your head at the ridiculous question. “I might as well show you. I haven’t told anyone yet, but that’s because you’re the only person I talk to.” You stopped in your tracks and shooed him back to give yourself enough space. “Ready?” Bruce looked terrified, but nodded a response and watched you raise your hands ahead, concentrating on the small portal you had began to open. Bruce recognized the opening since he’d fallen through it before.

“You’re one of the sorcerers?” Bruce’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I just started learning!” You exclaimed with a bright smile. “I needed something to get me through this all...and I wanted to protect Sanctum like Stephen and Wong had always stressed doing.”

“That’s...amazing, y/n. Self-taught magic? By a scientist, no less. Look at you go!” Bruce had a knack for being supportive. You were glad that he crashed through your roof and into your stairs.

“Thanks, Bruce. Maybe in time I’ll be able to cast a spell that fixes my roof.” You shrugged.

“Oh? Come on! I said I was sorry!”

—————

And then five years went by. Flew by, actually. You’d become a skilled sorcerer and used your skills around Sanctum. There wasn’t much to do here on Earth. It was a bit quiet.

Bruce was still a close friend of yours! You’d advised him in his quest for balance. He was no longer at war with himself.

The roof was fixed! You had Bruce spectate your very own spell to repair the damages he’d inflicted, but all was forgiven.

Then one normal day you got a call from him.

“Hey Bruce! How’s it going?” You answered, even though it interrupted your meditation.

“Can you meet me at the diner ASAP?” He sounded a little off, but still upbeat, so you opened a portal and stepped through to find yourself right out front. It was easy to spot him through the window, but there were others with him. Avengers.

“Hey, all.” You took a seat beside an unfamiliar one. “Hi, I’m y/n.” You told him as a plate of food was set in front of you.

“I ordered you your favorite. Hope you’re hungry.” Bruce smirked at you and let you get to it.

“So, it’s been a while, huh?” You asked the two Avengers across from you.

“It has.” Natasha sighed. “I wasn’t aware you were...also a sorcerer.” She began.

“I had a lot of free time.” Last they saw you, you weren’t as cool, calm, or collected. They were glad that you’d found peace. “I have a feeling this isn’t a social lunch.”

“I’m sorry to pull you from your calm, Doctor L/N—” You cut Steve off.

“Y/N is fine.” You replied.

“Scott here,” Steve motioned to the awkward man sitting alongside you, “was stuck in the Quantum Realm for some time, if you’re familiar. He thinks that there’s a way to...to undo what Thanos did.” You peered over at Bruce and watched him shrug as your heart started to beat faster and stomach started doing turns. You hated the thought of getting your hopes up, but you still dearly missed your husband.

“What can I do?”

—————

You had a hand in opening the dozens of portals around the ruins of the Avengers Compound, but you weren’t the only one. Stephen, Wong, and hundreds of other sorcerers were assisting to bring an army to combat the troops of an outdated Thanos, and you were so close to Stephen.

Using your magic to create a pathway to the sky, you leaped from step to step to get a clear look of the battlefield. And to let Stephen see you. He did. And so did the cloak.

You’d never used your powers to fight, so you’d have to step it up out here. But you knew Stephen wouldn’t let you get hurt. And you believed that you could handle this yourself.

“Y/N!” Stephen called to you as he flew to your altitude and held you in a special embrace that you’d nearly forgotten the feeling of. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Are you kidding me, Stephen?” You chuckled through tears that you just couldn’t hold in, tears that dragged through the dirt and dust on your face, clearing small lines down your cheeks. “I have missed you every day since the moment you left. I am so glad to have you back.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye, y/n. I truly am. But I knew that you would manage without me. You always have.” He explained to you in such a heartfelt way, admiring your capability to still be standing in the air.

“You knew I’d become a sorcerer, didn’t you?” You cocked a brow and watched him smirk.

“I had an inkling.” He joked with you as the firefight below was still rampaging.

“It’s very unprofessional of you to be talking to your s/o during times of crisis like this.” You chuckled and broke your spell to fall back to the ground, stopping yourself before it was too late in what could only be described as a “superhero landing.” Now that you were on the ground, assistance was required for your own side of the battle.

You and your fellow sorcerers had to defend more than anything. Shields popped up across the battlefield in an effort to keep your people alive. There were too many close calls and you wanted to survive long enough to go home with your husband.

“Y/N, over here!” Stephen beckoned you to the flood that would have made this fight much harder, and you were delighted to defend alongside him. The cloak rushed to you and gave you a fast track to the edge of the water, you couldn’t help but that it for it’s kind service. “Ready?”

“Of course.” You lifted your palms and motioned towards that water, redirecting it and keeping it at bay for the time being. “I love you, Stephen.” You remembered to tell him.

“I love you, too, y/n.” He replied with his focus still on the flood. “And I’m proud of you. So very proud.”

“Couldn’t have done it with you.” You joked and stabilized the rushing waters, giving you a true load-off before the end was clear. Dust passed through the sunken hole you all stood inside. Dust of your enemies that had finally lost. You and Stephen stared at each other in disbelief, yet couldn’t help but run into each other’s arms. “This is real? We won?”

“In a way.”

—————

Stephen and you dressed in all black were standing in the back yard of your savior. Tony had given his life to give others a life. You were just sorry that it had to be him.

Bruce stood alongside you with a long face and an injured arm. It was time for you to be there for him like he’d been there for you.

“Thanks for bringing back my husband, Bruce.” You whispered to him while holding Stephen’s hand tightly. Over the past few days, you just couldn’t seem to let go of him.

“Oh, yeah? That was nothing.” Bruce playfully answered through his sorrow.

“How’s your arm feeling?” You asked him, making sure the sling wasn’t twisted up an any way.

“Not the greatest, but I’ll be okay.” He assured you and watched as you leaned your head onto Stephen’s smile with a sense of relief. “I’m really happy for you, y/n...”

“But?” You raised an eyebrow with a hint of worry.

“But you better still hang out with me.” He smiled at you and you even heard a chuckle escape Stephen’s lips.

“You can count on it, Bruce.” You lifted a hand for a fist bump and collided your knuckles with his, even if they were a bit oversized.

“Shall we get going, dear?” Stephen asked you while he hooked his arm around yours and opened a portal home. You waved goodbye to Bruce and went on your way, stepping right into Sanctum as the way closed behind you.

“So you really meant it, huh?” You asked your husband while setting your belongings down.

“That I love what you’ve done with the place?” Stephen laughed at your oncoming smirk and walked forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you forward to kiss the top of your head. “Of course, dear.”

“Even the stairs?” You peeked your head up to look at your husband and watched his smile grow. You’d never bothered casting a spell to properly repair them. Maybe you were just too proud of your work. Maybe it was a reminder that you got through these five years on your own terms.

“I do.” He leaned down to kiss your lips. “It adds character to this place.”

“More character than the magic?” You prodded at him.

“I think you mean ‘sorcery.’” He corrected as you leaned into his chest and slightly swayed back and forth, taking in his presence for the 50th time since he’d come home.

“Oh, of course. Silly me.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @blizzardbabe // @agentshortstacc // @rosadiaz-sarayvargas-harleyquinn // @werewolf-himbo // @comiocudequemtalendo1 // @mochamoff // @the-marvel-meme-emporium // @summersimmerus //

#stephen strange imagine #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #dr strange x reader #dr strange imagine #dr strange #marvel #avengers #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner imagine #hulk #hulk x reader #hulk imagine

296 notes · View notes

pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 3 years

Text

Wormhole | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 10k

A/N: This is a comfort fic disguised as a CM episode. Also, I had a lot of fun writing this.

WARNINGS: Kidnapping, murder, general CM things, hospitals, mentions of blood, psychopaths

You weren’t normally nervous to talk to Agent Aaron Hotchner. Sure, he was your boss, but he had also been leading the BAU for so long that you always trusted his reactions and motives. Still, the reason you had asked him to meet was so far out of left field that you were nervous he would tell you you were insane.

You were the first one in the office for the morning, perching on your desk in the empty bullpen while you waited for Hotch to arrive. You stood up when he entered the office, but waited to move until he made it to his office door and beckoned you to follow him inside.

“Good morning, (y/n).”

“Morning, Hotch,” you stood awkwardly in front of his desk, clutching the file in your hands.

“Please, sit. Is everything ok?” As soon as you made eye contact with him, your nerves settled. Everything about his behavior showed that he was genuinely concerned for you and interested in what you had to say. You took a deep breath, sliding the file onto his desk.

“I was looking into this cold case from the eighties, in Illinois. Mia-Rose Horn, 16, found murdered under a bridge. I have a theory, and I was hoping I could take a couple of days to go check it out.” You bit your lip while he picked up the file, thumbing through it.

“What’s your theory?”

“The only suspects considered were older transients in the area because the town was so biased against migrant workers. My preliminary research shows that the unsub profiles as younger, someone who knew the victim and her family personally. It feels like there’s a piece of the puzzle missing, and I think victimology can really help this case. I’d like to visit the dumpsite and walk the crime scene. I’d also like to go through the evidence to see if I can narrow it down a little more, and possibly do updated DNA analysis. I’ve already contacted the lead detective, he said it would be fine if I went out there.”

Hotch was quiet for a minute, reading the case information from the file. The longer you sat in silence, the more you feared he would say no. Finally, he closed the file and handed it back to you, “the FBI wasn’t invited in on this case when it was active, how did you find it?”

You blushed, hard. “I was watching a cold case documentary and when they talked about this one it just didn’t feel right, so I asked Garcia to pull the file. Once I looked it over more I realized my hunch was correct. They barely built a profile and the one they did make was wrong.”

“Do you work on cold cases often?”

“I’ve only worked on it when we don’t have an active case and I’m caught up on my paperwork, it makes me feel like I’m still making a difference when things are slow here.”

Hotch nodded, “you’re a good agent, (y/n). I trust that you’ll represent the BAU well. I can’t let you take the jet but you’re welcome to an SUV. However, as soon as we get an active case it takes priority. Do you understand?”

You stood up quickly, excitedly gripping at the file, “Yes sir, of course. Thank you so much. I promise I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think I could do something. I won’t let you down, sir.” Hotch smiled softly at your energy. You had reached for the door handle before he spoke again, calling after you.

“(y/n),” you turned, hand still on the doorknob, “take Reid with you, I assume he knows the details of this case, too?” You nodded quickly, practically bouncing back to your desk with excitement. You checked the clock, Spencer would probably arrive in the next ten minutes or so, giving you time to arrange everything you’d need for the trip.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, you were waiting for him, go bag in hand.

“Hotch said you could go?”

“Not only that, he said you could come with me,” you smirked, falling in step next to him as he walked to his desk.

“Really?”

“We’re leaving now, so get your go bag.” You did a little happy dance as he started to gather his things.

“Ooh! Where are you going?” Penelope joined you at Spencer’s desk, hot cup of coffee in her hands.

“(y/n) is solving a cold case, we’re going out to Illinois to get more information.”

“The one I pulled for you? You actually solved it? Is there anything you can’t do?” Penelope asked in disbelief. Just last week she had explained to you why she was convinced you were a superhero.

You laughed brightly, “I don’t know if I can solve it yet, that’s why I need to go check it out for myself. Yes, I’ll call you if I need anything,” you answered when she opened her mouth to speak again. She hugged both you and Spencer before you left, making you promise you’d call her with updates and letting you know she’d call the detective to let him know you were on your way.

In true Spencer fashion, he had brought enough audiobooks to last the whole drive. You didn’t mind, your brain was more focused on driving. You didn’t talk about the case until you were nearing the end of the twelve hour road trip. Spencer was the one to bring it up, turning down the volume knob on the console.

“How are you feeling about this?”

“To be honest, Spence, I haven’t really been listening.”

“I meant about the case,” he chuckled.

“I’m trying not to get my hopes up. It’s been a cold case for over three decades for a reason, you know?”

“We wouldn’t be in Illinois right now if you weren’t on to something. Instincts exist for a reason, and your instincts are usually right.”

You fiddled with the air conditioning vents absentmindedly, “I don’t want to dredge up old wounds for the family and the town unless I’m absolutely certain I can bring some closure to them as well. The detective is the only person who knows we’re coming. I don’t want to start interviewing witnesses until I know I can do something to help.”

Spencer nodded, “I’ll follow your lead, you just tell me what you need.”

You spent the rest of the time discussing the details of the case, Spencer looking over the file again while you navigated to the police office. Having Spencer with you made you feel a lot better. You knew the case front to back, but this was your first time leading an investigation and you didn’t want to accidentally miss something in the file out of nervousness. Spencer’s eidetic memory and genius brain would keep you on track and ask you questions you knew would only help you in the grand scheme of things. Spencer was also your best friend, your biggest supporter. Any considerations he had would always come from a place of love and mutual respect.

When you arrived at the police station it was late in the evening, but the detective was waiting for you. He was an older man, tall and mostly bald.

“Hi, you must be Agent (y/l/n). Nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Detective Reeves, nice to finally meet you, too. This is my partner, Doctor Reid.” Spencer brought a hand up to wave. “Thanks for letting us take a look at this.”

“Thanks for making the drive out here. This case…” he sighed, “Mia-Rose went missing two months after I started this job and I’ve been hunting her killer ever since. It’s been thirty two years, a fresh pair of eyes will do this case good. It’ll do the whole town good if you can see somethin’ I haven’t.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” you said, not wanting to promise any results to him. “Is there a room we can set up in?”

“I’ve brought all of the evidence to our conference room. Use it for as long as you need.”

“Thanks,” you took off to the door that he had pointed at, Spencer on your heels. He shut the door behind you, dropping his bag on a chair while you picked up examination gloves.

The next few hours were spent meticulously going over the evidence that had been collected. You occasionally made comments to Spencer about where the item had come from and any notes that had already been documented about it.

The clock had just passed midnight when you were ready to move on to the next part of your investigation. You wanted to walk the dumpsite, but it would be useless to go while it was still dark. Instead, you retreated to a small motel at Spencer’s insistence that you needed sleep.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to shut my brain off enough to actually sleep,” you confessed once you were wearing sweatpants and leaning up against the headboard of the bed.

Spencer wandered out of the bathroom, giving you the softest look as he sat down next to you.

“What are you thinking about the most?”

“The evidence told me exactly what I thought it would, but I can’t build a decent mental picture of what happened until I see the dump site. What if I get there and it still doesn’t make sense? What if I’m in too deep on this one, Spence?”

“This case has been cold for thirty years, it can wait one more night. You are an incredible FBI agent. You’re an incredible human, at that. I know you can handle this, and Hotch knows you can handle this, too. If you aren’t able to solve it, you’re not letting anyone down. It’s been a cold case for a reason, I’m sure you’ll solve the next one.”

“Logically I know you’re right, but that isn’t making sleep happen any easier,” you sighed, sinking down onto a pillow. You could tell from Spencer’s expression that he had an idea when he reached up, turning off the lamp beside him and laying down next to you in the dark.

“This is called Image Distraction, all you have to do is close your eyes, try to relax, and listen to my voice.”

“Are you hypnotizing me?” you giggled into the darkness, feeling like a small kid at a sleepover with their best friend.

“No, it’s just a strategy to help you fall asleep. I’m going to describe a scene to you and the idea is that it takes up enough space in your brain to prevent you from re-engaging with other thoughts. Hypnosis doesn’t actually put you to sleep, just in a trance that seems like you’re sleeping. It’s been proven to help change habits and thoughts around sleeping though. There was a study done in 2010-”

“Is that what I’m supposed to be picturing? I’m seeing dudes in lab coats and creepy hospital walls.”

You felt the mattress shake next to you as Spencer laughed.

“No, that wasn’t it. I’m going to start now, picture a waterfall. As you walk closer it gets louder, pounding onto the rocks below it and spraying a mist into the air. The droplets of water stick to your face. You can see a rainbow that touches the pool at the base of the waterfall. The plants growing around the pool of water are greener than emeralds, bright and shining in the sun…”

That was the last thing you remembered him saying before succumbing to sleep. You had a very vivid dream while you were sleeping, not uncommon for someone in your field, but it wasn’t one you had had before.

There was a teenage girl walking in front of you down a long hallway. You instantly recognized her as Mia-Rose. She turned around every so often, beckoning you to come closer, but no matter how fast you tried to move your feet it was impossible for you to catch up. The hallway was familiar, you realized it was one in Quantico that you walked down every day to get to the elevator. It took longer than normal to reach the end, and just when you thought you could catch up to Mia-Rose, Hotch stepped out in front of you, holding Spencer with one arm and holding his gun to your best friend’s temple with the other.

“You have to choose, (y/n).”

“Choose what?”

“One of them has to die. Him or her?” he moved his gun to point the barrel at Mia-Rose.

“I don’t understand, why can’t I save them both?”

“One of them has to die.”

It only took you a moment to consider, “me. Shoot me. Let them live.”

“Brave choice,” Hotch’s gun came to point at you and his finger squeezed the trigger.

You woke up.

Soft morning light was coming in through the window and Spencer was already awake, quietly tying his tie while perched on the edge of the bed.

“Morning,” he grinned when he noticed you watching him.

“Morning,” you panted, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“You were dreaming.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hotch made me choose between him shooting Mia-Rose or shooting you.”

“What did you choose?”

“I made him shoot me instead.”

You expected Spencer to launch into an analysis of your dream and what it meant, but instead he asked another question, changing the subject.

“Can we stop for coffee before we walk the dumpsite?” he pulled a blue cardigan out from his go bag and stuck his arms through the sleeves.

“Sure,” you said, stretching as you stood up. While you got ready, Spencer found the nearest place to get coffee, and you stopped there before continuing on to the bridge where Mia-Rose’s body had been found thirty years ago.

“I’m too used to walking active crime scenes,” you murmured when you pulled over to the empty dumpsite. Normally dumpsites like this were taped off with officers present, as well as some news reporters and civilian gawkers. You were sure that it had looked like that when the crime had first happened, but now it was just a bridge that nobody thought about.

When you stepped out of the SUV you noticed a small memorial for Mia-Rose nailed to a tree, wilted and weathered flowers around it. You stopped for a minute to look at it, then continued through the brush to the overpass.

Mia-Rose had fallen off of the bridge onto the ground beneath, where you were standing now. Her death was originally ruled a suicide, which had slowed the investigation until her parents insisted she wasn’t suicidal and had her autopsied, revealing ligature marks and evidence of assault. Just from reading the file, you knew that her parents were right. She didn’t profile as suicidal, and if she was she could have jumped from further down the bridge into the flowing river to your right, not onto the ground where she likely would have survived.

“Mia-Rose was found right here,” you pointed, “and her belongings…” you turned to your left, Spencer moving from behind you to stand where the girl’s school backpack and shoes had been found, a handful of yards away.

“They were found next to this rock.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said, facing him from where you stood, “the ME found traces of motor oil on her skin, so she must have been transported in a car. That means the unsub was driving on this road, stopped here by the bridge, then tossed her over the side. Why not just toss her stuff after her?” After thinking in silence for a minute, you started moving. “Stay where you are,” you instructed Spencer as you climbed the embankment. Once you reached the bridge, you stood on the edge so you could see both locations of dump sites.

“Spence,” you called to him, “how long is the average car?”

“Anywhere between 10 and 18 feet, depending on the size of the vehicle,” he answered quickly. You positioned yourself in line with where Mia-Rose’s body was found, then paced out roughly fifteen feet, landing you almost squarely in line with where Spencer was standing down the hill.

“What are you thinking?”

“This might sound kind of out there, but what if there was a partner?”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out how you had gotten there. He climbed up to where you were standing before asking you about it, “what makes you think that?”

“Eyewitness accounts said they saw Mia-Rose in a car with a man the night she went missing, and they were both sitting in the front of the car, but that’s about all anyone can agree on. What if there was a second unsub sitting in the back? If I’m the unsub getting Mia-Rose out of the front, you’re taking her stuff out of the trunk and tossing it over the side,” you acted out.

“Which means my DNA should be on her belongings,” Spencer concluded, finishing your thought, “I’ll call the lab and start getting things processed.”

“Good idea, I’m going to call Garcia and then we can head back to the station,” you said, pulling out your own phone as Spencer took a step away to make his call.

“Crimefighter! What have you’ve got?” Garcia answered her phone quickly.

“Hey Penelope, can you go through the list of Mia-Rose’s family members and get me some updated contact info?”

“Of course! Did you get a lead? I knew you could solve this,” she rambled. You could hear the clicking of her keyboard as she multitasked.

“Not quite, just a better understanding of the situation. I want to start interviewing family members to really nail down victimology and see if they know of anyone who fits my profile. Spencer’s calling the lab to get some evidence re-examined. When they send you results can you run them through CODIS?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

“That’s it for now, thanks Garcia.”

“Anytime, my love. I just sent the updated contacts to your tablet. Garcia out!”

Spencer was waiting for you in the SUV, once you finished your call with Garcia you drove back to the station. Detective Reeves assigned an officer to help you call the family members and invite them in for interviews.

“Mrs. Horn, thank you for coming in to talk with us,” you said gently to the elderly woman sitting across from you.

“Anything to help you find my little girl’s killer. Do you really think you can solve it?”

“We’re trying our best. Any information you can give us will make our job easier. Mia-Rose was walking home from school when she went missing, and was later seen getting into a blue car. Is there anyone she would have willingly accepted a ride home from?”

“No, she always walked, rain or shine so she could say hello to the neighbors on her way home. Except for Tuesdays, my brother Dylan would drive her home from band practice on Tuesdays because it was after dark.”

You exchanged a glance with Spencer, silently acknowledging that Mia-Rose was abducted on a Friday.

“Did she have any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt her, bullies or friends she might have had a falling out with?”

“No, she was sweet to everyone. That’s why it was such a shock to the town when she was killed. There wasn’t a soul who hadn’t been touched by her kindness.” Mrs. Horn spoke so highly of her daughter, further validating your theory.

“Let’s take a break,” you said, noting the way she was tearing up, “excuse us.” You stepped out of the room with Spencer.

“We should talk to Dylan,” he said once you were out of earshot of Mrs. Horn.

“I agree. He was interrogated by police when Mia-Rose first went missing, but I don’t think he’s a suspect. His alibi was rock solid, but he might know something about what happened.”

You had the detective bring in Mrs. Horn’s brother, Dylan Godfrey. While he agreed to an interview, he was much less cooperative than Mrs. Horn.

“I told the police thirty years ago, I had nothing to do with it,” he drawled, “I was at home with my wife, God rest her soul. I didn’t even have my car to kidnap Mia if I wanted to.”

“Where was your car?” Spencer asked quickly.

“My boy had it, out with his friends. He had just gotten his driver’s license. You know how kids are, impossible to control.”

This was the first you were hearing of his son. Nowhere in the records from the original investigation did it say Dylan Godfrey had a son, let alone a son who’s whereabouts were unknown on the night of the crime.

“Mr. Godfrey, let me ask you this. How old was your son the year Mia-Rose was murdered?”

“Eighteen.”

“Do you know where he was that night?”

“Out, like I said. He didn’t come home until after two o’clock in the morning.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“Last I knew he was working on a farm just out of town, the McGilroy’s place.”

As soon as Spencer had gotten the information out of him, you were firing off texts to Garcia. She sent you the address of the farm, and you called her once you were en route.

“You’re on speaker, Garcia. What have you found about this guy and why didn’t we know about him before?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question. He wasn’t included in any of the original witness statements. I’ve barely been able to find information about him online. I know he’s still alive because I don’t have a death certificate, but other than that no home address, no phone number, no nothing. Everything I know about him is from his childhood, before Mia-Rose went missing.”

“Something is better than nothing, what did you find?”

“Daniel Godfrey, born in 1965 to Mary and Dylan Godfrey. He was a decent kid from what I can tell. He got good grades in school, even got a scholarship to a college in Chicago but he turned it down at the last minute. I’ll hit you back if I figure out why.”

“Thanks Garcia,” you chirped before she hung up. You pulled up the long dirt drive of the McGilroy’s farm, putting the SUV in park and getting out. Spencer was by your side in an instant, you noticed the way his hand rested on his revolver.

“My goal is to get him in for a voluntary interview. If we can get him talking, we can figure out what happened that night and why his known locations on that night fit our timeline. Best case, we get a confession and the name of his partner, worst case, he had nothing to do with it and we’re back where we started.”

Spencer nodded, so you reached up to knock on the door. After a moment, a blonde woman opened the door.

You flashed your credentials, “hi, I’m SSA (y/l/n) with the FBI, we’re looking for Daniel Godfrey and we were told he might be here.”

“He’s out back in the barn,” she said, pointing down a gravel path.

“Thanks so much,” Spencer said as you stepped off the porch. You reached the barn and pushed open the large door, revealing a man inside. He was carrying a bucket of water that he poured into a trough for a horse before acknowledging you.

“What can I do ya for?”

“Are you Daniel Godfrey?” you asked.

“Depend’s who’s asking,” he chuffed, wiping his hands on his dirty coveralls. You held up your credentials.

“I’m Agent (y/l/n) and this is Doctor Reid. We’re with the FBI investigating the murder of your cousin, Mia-Rose Horn. We were hoping you’d come in to the station so we could get some more information about her.”

“What kinda information? Mia’s been dead a long time now.”

You had to play this carefully, one wrong word and he wouldn’t voluntarily interview with you, “your father told us you were out with friends the night she disappeared. We were hoping you could tell us what town was like that night and if you saw anything unusual.”

“You talked to my father? I can tell ya right now, it was quiet. Just like any other night in this town.”

“Great, that’s exactly the kind of information we’re looking for. Would you be able to come with us to the station so we can get that statement through the official channels? While we’re there I’d like to ask you a few more questions, if that’s ok.”

“Are ya saying I’m being arrested?”

“No, not at all. This is completely voluntary.”

Daniel fell silent, considering your offer. When he finally spoke again it was gruff and hostile, “will my old man still be there?”

You exchanged a glance with Spencer, hoping he had a better read on what answer would be your best choice. Spencer’s tongue flickered over his lips, then he cautioned a response, “he’s there right now, will that be a problem?”

Daniel looked dejected, scuffing his feet in the hay below his boots, “not unless he makes it a problem.”

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Our car is out front, is there anything you need to do before we go?”

Daniel shook his head and quietly followed you and Spencer back to the SUV. He didn’t say much while you were driving back to the police station, and neither did you. You escorted Daniel inside the station, walking quickly past where his father was sitting, still talking to the officer Reeves had assigned to your case. Dylan stood up when he noticed his son, but Daniel just kept his head down and quickened his pace. You brought him to an interrogation room, a small space with just a table and a couple of chairs.

“You can wait here, we just have to go collect some materials and then we’ll be back, alright?”

“Whatever,” Daniel said, taking the seat closest to the door. You stepped out, shutting the door behind you.

“Did you see the way Dylan reacted when he saw Daniel?” you asked Spencer quietly. He nodded.

“Did you see the way Daniel reacted when he saw Dylan?”

“Do you think it’s relevant to this case? I don’t want to waste time asking about it if it’s just some squabble they had once. Hotch said I could only work this case until we got an active one back at Quantico, and you and I both know serial killers don’t take extended vacations.”

Spencer considered the situation, you could almost see the gears turning in his mind, “it might be a way we can get him comfortable talking to us, irrelevant or not. This is the best lead we have. Just like you said earlier, you have to get him talking.”

You trusted Spencer’s opinion, not just because he was your best friend, but because he had led his fair share of interrogations during his time in the FBI. He was really good at it, his accelerated mind picking up patterns of words and behaviors that you could only be envious of.

“What do you mean ‘I’ have to get him talking? I thought this was a team effort.”

“It is, but you have to lead this interrogation.”

You weren’t surprised at his statement, but you resented the fact that he was right. Your favorite part of your job was the quick thinking, the on-the-fly deductions you had to make in the field that helped you put all of the clues together. You liked helping people and actively putting bad guys away for the greater good of the country you served. You were good at your job, too, having spent so much time developing your skills with arguably some of the best agents in the Bureau. You couldn’t not be good at your job surrounded by minds like the ones at the BAU.

Like everyone though, there were some aspects of your career that you were better at than others. You usually excelled in the takedown and arrests of suspects and left the mind games to your colleagues that were much better equipped to handle them. Sure, you could talk a suspect into putting their weapon down instead of pointing it at you or a victim, but that was a heat of the moment interaction. Cool, collected interrogation rooms just weren’t your strong suit, and nothing during your time at the BAU so far had changed it.

“You really think I can do this?”

“Absolutely. You have the skills, knowledge, and rapport to conduct this interview,” Spencer showed no hesitation in his answer.

“Promise to let me know if I’m going down the wrong rabbit hole?”

Spencer smiled, “of course. Let’s go solve this case.” He handed you a sheet of paper, a form for Daniel to sign with his Miranda rights on it.

Once you were seated across from Daniel, you handed him the paper and read him his rights.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Daniel, what happened between you and your father?”

Daniel’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between you and Spencer, “what kind of FBI agents are you?”

“We’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. We use psychology to solve crimes. I hope my question wasn’t intrusive, Doctor Reid and I both just noticed the way your behavior changed when you saw your father. He’s been helpful in our investigation and I don’t want any family conflicts to interfere if you’re going to help us too.”

“We had a disagreement.”

“Just a disagreement?” you pressed carefully.

“Just a disagreement.”

“Alright,” you said, deciding to leave it at that and move on. He was giving you too much resistance for the direction you had wanted to take the conversation, so you changed the subject. If his disagreement with his father was relevant to the case, you’d have to get that information out of him another way.

You started off by asking about Mia-Rose and gathering any information Daniel had about her. At first he was reluctant, just explaining that they saw each other during family gatherings and when his father would drive them both home from band practice.

“You went to the same high school then, if you were in band together?”

“Uh huh. It’s a small town, everyone goes to the same school.”

“Can you tell us about who Mia-Rose spent time with? Who were her friends?”

“Everyone was her friend. She was the friendliest kid in school.”

“Who were your friends?” Spencer asked, tilting his head. It wasn’t a question you had thought to ask, but as soon as he did you saw where he was going.

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me,” Spencer answered.

“Alec Krause, Markus Sparrow, Nicolas Rush,” Daniel listed.

“Where are they now?” you asked while Spencer pulled out his phone, presumably to text Garcia for a background check, “are you still in contact with them?”

“They all moved out of town for college. Haven’t seen or talked to ‘em since,” Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“You were supposed to go to college, in Chicago, right?” you prompted. Daniel’s eyes flickered between you and Spencer, probably wondering how much about him you knew.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Got a job at the farm,” he shrugged.

“Daniel, I’m going to be real with you,” you squared up, “I’ve seen plenty of small towns in this job. I’ve talked to many people from small towns just like this one, and almost all of them in your position would have taken the out. They would have moved to the city as soon as they got the chance, so why didn’t you? Why did you choose to stay in this town?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Daniel was quick to correct you.

“You didn’t?” Now you were on to something.

“The disagreement I had with my father was about me leaving. He wouldn’t let me leave, so he got me the job at the farm.”

“Alright, let’s take a break,” you said, standing up and stepping out of the room. Spencer exchanged a few words with Daniel, then followed you out.

“That was big,” you panted, trying to shake out the jump of adrenaline that you were feeling.

“You’re doing great,” Spencer confirmed.

“When Dylan was talking about his son earlier, during his interview, it seemed like he didn’t have control over Daniel. What was it he said, ‘you know how kids are’? Something must have changed to make Daniel listen to his father telling him to stay, something that changed after Mia-Rose was murdered.”

Right before you were going to go back into the interrogation room, your phone rang. Hotch’s name lit up the screen.

“Hold on, Spence. (y/l/n),” you answered, praying that Hotch wasn’t going to tell you to abandon the case and get back to Quantico right when you were making strides.

“I’m just checking in to see how things are going.”

“We’re talking to a person of interest right now, it’s just very slow going. We think he had been working with a partner when the murder took place, but he’s not giving up names,” you explained, ��please don’t tell me we have a case that we have to come back for, we just got a break that might open this case up for us.”

Hotch chuckled on the other end of the line, “no, we don’t have a case. Garcia told me you had a lead and I was curious.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how you were a prosecutor before joining the BAU. This is exhausting, and every time I say something I feel like he’s going to invoke.”

“You’re doing fine,” Spencer whispered reassuringly.

“Spencer says I’m doing fine,” you relayed to Hotch.

“I’m sure you are. Sometimes unsubs like this take time to crack,” he reminded you.

“It’s already been thirty years, I’d like to close it now,” you decided, squaring your shoulders. “I’m going to go back in there and wrap this up. I’ll call you back when we’re done.” You hung up with Hotch, then turned to Spencer. “Let’s do this.”

Daniel seemed to tense up when you walked back in, sitting down across the table from him once again.

“Thanks for being patient, Daniel. I’d like to know why your father wouldn’t let you leave town. From what he told us, he gave you a lot of freedom in high school. What happened?”

“We had a disagreement, like I said.”

“Right, we’ve covered that. It must have been hard going from being able to do whatever you wanted to working a farm job under your father’s thumb. I was hoping you could tell us exactly what kind of disagreement. Was it because Mia-Rose was murdered?” Daniel nodded, “ok, that’s a start. Was there a specific reason beyond Mia-Rose’s murder?”

Your tactic was deliberate, validating his feelings before pressing harder in hopes that he would give something up.

“He didn’t want me getting into more trouble.”

“More trouble? As in, you got into trouble here first?”

“Correct.”

“We don’t have any police records for you, Mr. Godfrey. Usually that’s the kind of ‘trouble’ that stops kids from going to college,” Spencer chimed in.

“The police don’t know I was there.”

“Where?” Your question was burning hot, and you watched Daniel squirm as he realized he had dug himself into a hole.

“I was in the car.”

“Which car?” you hoped he meant the car you thought he did, but you needed a true confession.

“My father’s car…” you chose not to say anything and instead let him sit in uncomfortable silence, “the night Mia was killed.”

“With her? Was Mia in the car with you?”

“Yes, she was.”

You had to maintain your composure, even though your insides were doing cartwheels out of excitement. This was exactly the kind of lead you were looking for, you couldn’t blow it now.

“Your father said you were out with friends, were any of the people you mentioned earlier with you? Alec, Markus, and Nicholas?”

“No, it wasn’t with them.”

“Who else was in the car then, Daniel? It wasn’t just you and Mia-Rose.”

“I don’t remember,” he started backpedaling, a clear sign that you were closing in.

“We’re going to step out and give you some time to think about it, see if you can try to remember,” Spencer interrupted before you could say anything, nodding towards the door when you made eye contact with him. You followed him out, turning to him abruptly once the door was shut behind you.

“I was getting somewhere with him.” You were fired up, to say the least. Now that you were in the comfortable privacy of Spencer’s company, you could let your emotions come forward.

“I know, I know,” Spencer smirked, “Garcia got a hit with Daniel’s friends, we should call and see what she has so we have more leverage when we go back in there.”

You took a deep breath, pulling out your phone and calling Garcia.

“Boy Wonder got my text!” she answered after the first ring.

“What did you find, Garcia? We’re really making strides here and anything you’ve got could really close this for us.”

“I ran the names of Daniel’s friends, like you asked. Almost all of them checked out, normal guys with normal lives.”

“Almost all of them?” you caught the specificity of her words.

“Right. One of them, Markus, he checks out too… but his brother, oh my his brother has done some stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Spencer asked, brows furrowed in thought.

“Kyle Sparrow. When he was 11 he attempted to rob a bank, and not just as a joke. When he was 14 he was suspended from school after locking students in storage closets. He’s been in and out of jail his whole adult life. He got out a year ago and hasn’t been back since.”

“That fits our profile. How old was he when Mia-Rose was killed?” Spencer followed up.

“That’s where things get weird, I was hoping you guys would have a good explanation because this really doesn’t make sense.”

“Garcia,” you called, refocusing her.

“Right. Kyle Sparrow was 10 years old when Mia-Rose was murdered.”

“What?” you whipped around to look at Spencer incredulously, hoping he would have some kind of information about child serial killers that would clarify the situation. Instead, he just frowned and shook his head. You had to decide if it was worth bringing up to Daniel and risk wasting precious time. You considered for a moment, then spoke. “Send us his address, we’re going to ask Daniel about him. If he seems like a viable lead then we’ll head out there. Thanks Garcia.”

“Done and done. You’ve got this, crimefighters!”

“Are you ready to go back in there?” Spencer asked when you reached for the interrogation room door handle.

“Do I have a choice? This case just took a turn that I wasn’t expecting.”

“It’s been four hours and thirty six minutes. We can take another minute to get coffee if you need a longer break,” he suggested.

“I’m too close to cracking this. I can feel it,” you confessed. Spencer nodded, acknowledging that your gut feelings were usually right. You opened the door, sitting back down across from Daniel. Spencer stood in the corner behind you, hands in his pockets.

“Did you remember who was in the car with you the night Mia-Rose was murdered?” Daniel shook his head. “Ok, that’s fine. I have some names that we’ve collected as people of interest for this case. I’m going to read them off and you tell me if one sounds familiar, ok?” Daniel nodded, so you opened your file and pulled out a blank piece of paper, holding it so Daniel couldn’t see the lack of information on your side.

“Emily Prentiss.”

He shook his head.

“Derek Morgan.”

Again, nothing.

“Penelope Garcia.”

Your list was intentional, listing people you were certain Daniel wouldn’t know so you could get a baseline for his behavior. It paid off when you listed the next name, “Kyle Sparrow.”

You could practically see Daniel tense up. Though he shook his head, his leg started bouncing nervously and his eyes were flickering frantically around the room, looking anywhere but at you and Spencer.

“Daniel,” you started, keeping your voice low, “remember when I told you Doctor Reid and I use psychology and behavior to solve crimes? You may not have noticed it, but your behavior shifted when you heard Kyle’s name. You know something about him, don’t you? Was he in the car with you that night?”

Daniel finally looked up at you, eyes watering, “I’m not a criminal.”

“I didn’t say you were. Was Kyle in the car with you the night Mia-Rose was murdered?”

“He was just a kid, my best friend’s little brother. We were out in my dad’s car, I had just gotten my license so I skipped class and took Markus and Alec for a spin around town. When I dropped them off back home Kyle said he was lookin’ to go across town to the library so I offered him a ride. I even made him sit in the back because he was still just a small kid. Then we saw Mia walking home. It always took her longer because she stopped to say hi to everyone she passed. Kyle suggested we offer her a ride too, so I did.

“It all happened so fast, first she was getting into the car and then Kyle had a knife at her throat. He told me he’d kill her if I didn’t do what he wanted. He made me drive out of town to the woods and watch as he tied her up and did horrible, horrible things to her. I didn’t even know a kid was capable of doing those things. When he was done with her he made me help put her back in the car and drive to the bridge. She wasn’t dead when he made me push her over the edge, that’s why I didn’t throw her in the river. I thought she’d survive it without Kyle knowing because he was too busy getting rid of her stuff in the trunk. He still made me drop him off at the library after, even though it was closed on account of it being real late at night, and swear that I’d never tell anyone what we did or he’d kill me too.”

“How did your father find out?” you asked.

“He found blood in the car the next morning. I told him it was from Markus, that he had gotten scratched up while we were messing around in the afternoon. He made me clean it out with bleach, told me I’d have to learn responsibility if I wanted to move out. When my auntie called him later and told him about Mia being missing, he connected the dots. He told me he didn’t want to know what I had been doing the night before, but if I tried to move away it would make me a suspect. He got me the job at the farm and I’ve been there ever since.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Daniel. We’ll tell the court how cooperative you’ve been, they might ease your sentence because of it.”

“The court? What?” Pure fear crossed Daniel’s face. It didn’t sit right with you that he had to be arrested, knowing he had been coerced into helping murder his cousin, but he had still committed a felony. You had to let the court decide his fate.

“Daniel Godfrey, you’re under arrest for accessory to the murder of Mia-Rose Horn,” Spencer moved behind Daniel, taking his hands to cuff them. As soon as he was done Daniel was passed off to an officer and you and Spencer took off, SUV keys in hand.

You sped towards the home address Garcia had sent you for Kyle Sparrow, wishing the rest of the team was there so you could split up in case he was at work. This part of your job was where you felt the most comfortable, the tactical side of an arrest that was more physical than the mind games you had just played in the interrogation room. It was just starting to rain, a light drizzle that darkened the skies as you drove to what you hoped was your final location for this case.

“Is there Kevlar in the back?” you asked, realizing you hadn’t gotten vests from the police station before you had left. Spencer turned around in his seat, checking around the vehicle.

“Nope.”

“Great,” you sighed, “let’s try not to get shot at then, alright?”

“Sounds good to me,” Spencer agreed.

You pulled up to Kyle’s house, which was more of a rundown shack on the outskirts of town. You drew your weapon as soon as your boots were on the ground, approaching the door cautiously.

“Where’s Morgan when you need him,” you mumbled, hoping you wouldn’t have to kick the door down, “Kyle Sparrow, FBI,” you announced, knocking on the door. A gunshot flew through the window next to you, shattering the glass. That was all the invitation you needed to bust open the door, but Kyle wasn’t in the room inside. You moved quickly through the maze of rooms, taking one side while Spencer took the other.

“Clear,” you called every time you ensured a room was empty. You heard Spencer clear a couple of spaces, then fall silent. You worked your way to the kitchen, finding him in a standoff with Kyle.

“I’m not going to jail again. You can’t make me,” Kyle seemed unreasonably calm, grinning slightly to himself while he pointed a pistol at Spencer.

“You’re wanted for the murder of Mia-Rose, Kyle. There’s no way to get out of this one,” you had to keep things simple for him and talk him down as quickly as possible before he shot at you again, “let’s just talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not going to jail for a person I killed thirty years ago.”

“There’s no other option. We know it was you, this ends here.”

“If I have to go back, it has to be for something better. You’re right, this ends here, but not because I killed Mia-Rose Horn.”

“How does it end, Kyle?” Spencer asked. You noticed the glint in Kyle’s eye, giving you a split second to push Spencer out of the way and get hit with a searing pain in your side. You heard Spencer’s revolver fire as you hit the floor.

“Get him first,” you grunted, putting a hand on your side to try to stem the bleeding. Spencer crouched next to you, worried eyes looking you over before he pulled your handcuffs out of your pocket. Your ears were ringing, but you could just make out the sounds of Spencer talking before you blacked out.

You woke up in the hospital, an all too familiar experience. Spencer was beside you, nose in a book. You weren’t sure how much he was paying attention to it though, considering the way his brows were furrowed and his fingers were tapping against the cover. He was lost in thought somewhere, you just didn’t know where.

“Spence,” you managed to croak through your dry throat. His eyes shot up from the page, lips turning up in a small smile when his gaze met yours.

“Hi,” he practically whispered.

“Is Kyle dead?”

Spencer hesitated, no doubt weighing the value of telling you the outcome now or waiting until you were better rested. He chose the former, shaking his head.

“I did what you would have done and shot him in the hip. He’s not dead, and once he’s healed he’ll go to trial. You did it, (y/n). You solved the case.”

“We solved the case. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You also wouldn’t have gotten shot.”

“So?” you shrugged, “I lived. Where’s Garcia? Usually she’s the first one at the hospital.”

Spencer’s smile returned, “she wanted to but a case came in right right after you went into surgery. She sends her love and said she’d make up for not being here when we get back to Quantico.”

“A case? We should get back to help,” though you were exhausted, you brain immediately went into profiling mode.

“No, you’re going to stay here and rest. You should be staying for longer than you’re going to, but I was able to convince your doctor that I was more than capable of making sure you got home safely.”

“I didn’t realize you were a rule-breaker,” you teased, feeling your eyelids droop.

“I’m not, I just thought you would want to go home as soon as possible. You’re not the kind of person who likes being away from their family, and we’ve already been gone three days. Staying here doing nothing, although it would be good for you, would just torment you more.”

“Thanks, Spence,” you murmured, falling back to sleep. You dozed on and off for the better part of the day, Spencer staying by your side the whole time. Towards the end of the afternoon, you woke up to his seat vacant. The immediate panic you felt was squashed by calculated thoughts, he’s probably getting food or in the bathroom. You fought to stay awake while you waited for him to come back. He surprised you by returning with someone behind him.

“Mrs. Horn wanted to talk to you, if you’re feeling up for it,” he said, resuming his position in the chair next to you. You nodded, watching the older woman enter the room from where she had been standing in the doorway.

“I wanted to thank you for finding my daughter’s killer, even though it put you in the line of danger.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” you reassured her, sitting up a little against your pillows.

“I wish her father could have been here to see it solved. He always told me not to lose faith, that a blessing would come our way. You were our blessing,” she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“I was just doing my job, I’m sorry it took so long for someone to figure this out.”

Mrs. Horn tutted, telling you she was just glad that her daughter could rest in peace now. Before she left, she made sure to tell you that if you were ever in Illinois you and Spencer were welcome to come over for dinner, and that she hoped you got better quickly so you could go help other victims.

Once she was gone, your doctor came in to follow up with you. You had been shot in the side, the bullet passing through and exiting out of your back without hitting any major organs. Spencer did most of the talking for you, asking questions you couldn’t make sense of and checking over your chart for what was probably the hundredth time that day.

“You seem to be healing well and have a… knowledgable… support system, so I’m going to clear you for discharge. If anything changes you’ll need to go into the nearest hospital, ok?”

“Yes ma’am,” you answered. A nurse came in later with your discharge papers, which you signed before Spencer helped you in a wheelchair and out to where the SUV was parked.

“Are you sure you want to drive in this rain? I can-“ you winced in pain, hand flying to your side, “I can do it if you don’t feel comfortable.” Spencer stifled a laugh, reaching his hands out to give you something to brace yourself against as you moved from the wheelchair the SUV.

“I don’t mind driving,” he said simply.

“Yes you do,” you quipped quickly, exhaling as you settled into the passenger seat.

“Ok, yes. Under normal circumstances, I do mind driving, but I think I can make an exception when my favorite driver has been shot.”

“Don’t let Morgan hear you say that,” you smirked, still struggling to breathe in a way that would make your side hurt less.

“Are you warm enough?” Spencer fiddled with the heating knobs once he was settled behind the wheel. You nodded, but the shiver that ran down your body betrayed you.

“You’re the one driving. I want you to be comfortable,” you mumbled.

“You’re the one who just got shot. Here,” he reached behind him into the back where both of your go bags were stored. He unzipped his own and pulled out a cardigan, then leaned over the console to drape it across you. “The wool will help you retain heat.”

“Thanks,” you sighed, relishing in the comfort of his gesture.

“You didn’t have to take that bullet for me.”

“I did. I pulled you into this mess, I wasn’t going to let you get hurt because of it.”

“Hotch sent me with you so that you wouldn’t get yourself hurt,” he rebutted.

You brushed him off, “I’ve been shot before, I’m going to be fine.”

“I’ve also been shot before, you didn’t have to push me out of the way.”

You were quick to counter, “you didn’t have to push Blake out of the way either.”

It was an unnecessary squabble, a fact you both caught onto quickly once you realized the direction the conversation was going. Instead, Spencer changed the subject to explain the history of the small towns you were passing through on your way to the interstate.

Miraculously, once the car was comfortably cruising on the highway, Spencer fell silent. You suspected it had to do with his intense concentration on driving in the elements as the rain got harder, though he also could have been giving you the space to sleep if you needed to.

It wasn’t until you were over an hour into your journey that he spoke again, after a quick glance at you revealed fresh tear tracks down your cheeks under the passing street lights.

“(Y/n), are you crying?” His question was so soft you almost missed it, “is it the pain? You’re not due to take your meds for another three hours but I know you have ibuprofen in your bag that would be ok to take now. I can pull over-“ his hand was about to move back to the steering wheel from where it had come to rest on the console, but you reached out to grab it instead.

You and Spencer didn’t really ‘do’ physical contact. You both had reasons not to, instead finding comfort just in proximity. As long as he was around, you were happy. This time, though, it was different. Maybe it was because you were touch starved, or because you had just been poked and prodded at all angles while in the hospital. Whatever the reason, the light grip you had on Spencer’s hand to stop him from pulling over was enough to make you feel the tiniest bit better. He was there with you, he was real.

“It’s not the pain,” you managed to hold your composure, knowing that letting any kind of sob escape the confines of your soul would only physically hurt you more.

“Are you tired? I drank enough coffee to get us home by morning but if you really need to sleep we can find a hotel somewhere. There are three off the next exit.”

“Spencer,” you ran your thumb over the prominent vein in his hand, “it isn’t something you can fix.”

“What do you mean?” He was puzzled, and by the way his hands were twitching you could tell he was deciding whether or not to stop the car anyways.

“There are hundreds of thousands of cold cases. Hundreds of thousands of families that don’t have closure. Hundreds of thousands of victims that haven’t gotten justice.”

“There’s one less because of you. You made a difference to Mia-Rose’s family, you got her the justice she deserves.”

“She deserved justice thirty years ago. I feel like the system failed her, the very system I work for. She was just a kid, and the answer was right there the whole time. Why did I have to be the one to figure it out, thirty years too late?”

Spencer’s response was soft and gentle, “because you’re exceptional, (y/n).”

“I didn’t have to be exceptional to solve this case, though. That’s what I’ve learned from all of the cold case documentaries I’ve watched. The ones that get solved are because someone knew what happened and didn’t come forward about it until years later. There was a psychopathic kid on the streets for thirty years because the police didn’t think to talk to Daniel Godfrey.”

“We can’t change what happened in the past, but we can make a difference in our futures.”

“I’m just so tired, Spence. I chose this job, I love this job, but it’s exhausting.”

“Then rest, (y/n). It’s ok if the only person you save some days is yourself.”

He was right, of course. You wanted to keep saving others, but you couldn’t do that if you didn't make time to save yourself too. You finally closed your eyes and pulled his cardigan up to your chin. Though you were still conscious, limiting your sensory input helped calm you down enough that you found yourself flitting in and out of dissociation. Even when Spencer’s hand gently moved out from under yours to answer his phone, you kept your eyes closed.

“Hey JJ,” his voice was quiet, barely audible over the rain pounding against the windshield, “they’re doing ok.” He paused while he listened to JJ’s response. “No, they keep reminding me that it’s not the first time they’ve been shot. I’m worried about them though.” He trailed off.

“They’ve been shouldering this burden of over 185,000 cold cases since we started working on this one, and now that it’s solved they’re finally feeling the weight of it. I don’t want them to drive themselves crazy trying to solve all of them on their own. We deal with enough active cases as it is.”

Though you were barely in a state of mind to process his words, he had hit the nail right on the head.

“How is the case you’re working on?” You presumed JJ was filling him in on what they knew, “have Garcia look into large purchases of triacetone triperoxide… Call me if anything changes. We should be back by morning.”

“Yes,” his change in tone indicated that JJ had asked him a question, “that would be great, JJ. Thank you so much.”

He must have hung up with JJ because his hand found yours again, fingers just barely touching. It was a simple action, loaded with a lot of meaning. Spencer was your best friend, and would always be your best friend. Bullets, cold cases, marriages, there was nothing that could break the bond you had with him.

You didn’t understand why people called their significant others their “better half”. It insinuated that you weren’t a whole person to begin with, a fractured existence that only found completion by the means of someone else. The idea that your life couldn’t be fulfilling until someone else made it whole was a concept that was set up for failure and self-loathing.

Instead, you believed that you were a whole person who could live a fulfilling life without the necessity of another. Instead, you surrounded yourself with people who lifted you up and helped you achieve your goals without being the direct cause of your success. Instead, you followed your dreams and somehow found Spencer Reid along the way.

Spencer was your best friend, your confidant, the one person who you knew you couldn’t live without, but he was not your other half. He was his own whole person, a mirror image of your own being. You found solace in his companionship, safety in the complexities of his brain. When the stress of your job got to be too much, you could reliably turn to each other and exist in the little slice of the world you called yours for a moment.

No, he was not your other half. He wasn’t even yours, for that matter, but he was there. He was there in a capacity that nobody else could achieve.

This is part of my GALAXY universe! If you liked this relationship, check out the MASTERLIST for more content!

Galaxy Taglist: @kermitsaysgayrights @niallthedancingharry @shadyladyperfection @thatsonezesty13 @lexshead @ceeellewrites @howdycharlie @girlycakepops @fantastic-fans @canimarrypizzaornah @daisyflower138 @dyingrexx @taylormobley @bazzleslynn @tj-drinks-tea @willa-wonky @eddiesbifocals @tee-mbrown @reniescarlett @bone-hurty-bitch @messyacademia

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #platonic imagine #platonic soulmates

159 notes · View notes

kenmasangel · 3 years

Text

getting back together after years

synopsis : the get back, part 1 “why am i even with you”

characters : sakusa, tsukishima

genre : fluff

warning : cursing, mention of alcohol

an : sorry for any gramma or spelling mistakes, everytime i’d right it was nighttime and i’d be really tired so i wasn’t able to focus 100%. please notice me of any mistakes masterlist

Sakusa Kiyoomi

years have passed since your break up with sakusa, it was a sad but necessary break up for you to move on and finally glow up

you also realized that the only person you truly ever needed was yourself and you worked hard to be the person you are today

“at the end of the day, men are trash,” you would try to cheer your friend who had a fight with her boyfriend in one of the best clubs of tokyo. “so wipe your tears and come move your hips,”

on the professional side you became tokyo's favorite journalist, sports related; not only because of your looks but also your professionalism and personality

every hot athlete you've ever interviewed tried to get with you, but they always got rejected

on the other hand sakusa joined MSBY Black Jackals; a professional volleyball team in japan's v.league, in the top tier of division 1

yes sir period

he never dated someone else, the break up kinda broke his heart but he'll never admit it

he also became more distant with people lowkey

however, one day your manager called you to tell you about who are you going to interview next

as she mentionned the name of a famous volleyball team you couldn’t stop your mind of thinking about your ex who used to play volleyball

little did you know that he was a part of the team

lmao who gon tell you

when you got back home you decided to do some research about that MSBY team or whatever

...

oh to your surprise when you saw sakusa kiyoomi’s face there

“no shit,” you mumbled to yourself lowkey annoyed

after the brake up you grew stronger and more independent as you put in mind that all men are trash, you didn’t want to go through that steretipycal sad phase where your self confidence would be all crushed. you wanted to remain strong and you learned how to truly love yourself without expecting anything from anyone as you had your own self

period boo

anyway, you kinda had numbed all your feelings, and to see him now made all your memories with him comeback; how you first met, your first kiss, your first dates and that fight

so here you were, in your appartement checking out their previous interviews trying to get all the juice you needed yet your mind would still zone out on his face

“just keep it pro, y/n, he probably even forgot about you, just keep it pro,” you told yourself before turning off your pc

the day of the interview, here we finally are. the MSBY team knew they had an interview with the most appreciated journalist of all times so they got ready.

“do y’all think they’re cute ?” asks atsumu, “if they’re cute you better back off guys, i’m sure i’m going to catch their attention anyway,” he cockily adds flipping his bang and flexing his muscles, no one bothered answering him at this point they were used to him

“they’re here,” their manager clapped in his hands. “don’t forget what i told you guys, they are very influent so don’t mess it up and don’t scare them away,” he looked at atsumu and bokuto who just stuck their tongues out

“good morning,” you greeted all of them and bowed, “i’m l/n y/n, the journalist who’ll interview you today,” you looked at all of them with a poker face. saying that sakusa was surprised would be an understatement; he was in shock, his brain forgot how to function correctly. you followed the others who took you to the room where all the staff would chill, offering you coffee, tea and snacks

sakusa couldn’t keep his eyes off you, seeing you after all these years was like a wave of fresh air; he was relieved to see you successful and blooming, what a beautiful sight he thought when he saw you laughing with his teammates as he got in the room. but at the same time his heart ached him as he remembred what made you two go separate ways and the guilt he tried to hide deep inside him all those years started creeping up again in his chest

“c’mon, it’s just an interview,” he sighed before sitting on a chair behind his team

the interview started and it was going fine, sakusa’s teammates were cool and you had a lot of fun interviewing them. you liked their chaotic energy and it happened for you to match it, they immediately liked you

“y/n-chan,” started atsumu getting close to you, ”would you like to go out with me tonight, we could have dinner together or just grab a drink-”

“okay barry b. benson, you’re not my type sorry,” you stopped him as you pinched his cheek making all his teammates laugh, you got a pout from him but he eventually laughed liking your attitude

“y/n-chan, why don’t you come and have dinner with us tonight?” asked bokuto with sparkles in his eyes, “oooh~ say please we’d love to!” joined him hinata with the same sparkles in his eyes

you akwardly chuckle looking at sakusa then bringing your stare back at them, “i don’t kno-”, “please come, it would be nice,” finally adds sakusa what made you look back at him

you kept staring at each other for moment before you nodded makinf the three balls of chaotic energy; bokuto, hinata and atsumu scream a ‘yes!’ you exchanged numbers and you went back home

well, that wasn’t too bad you thought to yourself once back at you appartement plopping on your couch

for some reason your heart was beating fast and you damned those feelings you tried to hide and not get rid of for coming back

he was looking as handsome as ever, you were not going to lie

and that look in his eyes... was it regret ?

“as he fucking should,” you shook your head thinking about what he’d said in that fight

but you were young, he probably regrets, “stfu stupid heart,”

you got up and got ready for tonight’s dinner

“keep that poker face y/n, you’re doing great” you said to yourself before getting into the restaurant, you quickly saw hands waving at you, spotting the team and you went to the table. there was a place left next to bokuto and sakusa, just great, you tried hard not to roll your eyes and sat

the diner was going well, you were not bothered by sakusa’s presence, he didn’t talk much anyway and you had fun talking to the others who were really funny, the thing is that everyone got drunk; hinata and bokuto were hugging each other singing the yarichin bitch anthem, atsumu kept saying ‘ya like jazz?’ every time the someone would pass by, you and sakusa were the only ones in a good state. you couldn’t help but laugh at them trying to stop them but you’d eventually fail

“atsumu please stop,” you tried to stop him from getting on the table to ask everyone if they liked jazz, “i won’t unless you tell me ya like jazz, honey,” he wiggled his eyebrows as you couldn’t help yourself from laughing, “i do like jazz now sit down,” you finally said

sakusa kept thinking if he should talk to you or not in the mean time, he couldn’t help but to create two imaginary cases in his mind one for that says ‘yes’ and the other one ‘no’, he finally came back to earth when you sat back down after stopping tsumu from performing a jazz song

“but y/n i swear it’s a good jazz song, it is called... Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley,” he grins proud of himself, you stare at him trying to hold your laughter and when you were going to anwser you heared sakusa do it first, “no miya, and make the owl and the tangerine stop crying,” atsumu salutes him and goes to talk to the crying duo

“long time no see, l/n,” he finally says making your heart miss a beat

“never thought i’d see you again sakusa,” you answer, finally looking at him

“glad to see you’re doing well,” he adds. “even tho i wish we’d be on good terms,” you sigh turning your head. “gotta admit i am the one to blame,”

“glad to see you are mature enough to admit your wrongs,” you anwser him sipping on your drink

“i’ve always knew that i was the one who fucked up, y/n... maybe back then i just didn’t have the guts to admit it, nor to try keeping you close to me. i just saw how you were doing better off without me, and i thought it was better to let go even if it did hurt me...” he finally admits

all what you wanted to hear, craved to hear when you broke up with him. you felt some type of way, good memories you had with him flooding your mind and the feelings you’ve once had for the pretty germaphobe

what were you gonna say? were you finally ready to forgive him and move on or stay on your positions and just live like you’ve been living since the brake up

“well... we’re grown ups now, it’s all forgiven and forgotten,” you give him a small smile,

“thank you,” it was then quiet for a brief moment before he finally decided to man up, “i missed you,” he looked down at his plate

wow the butterflies in your tummy, heart and brain went off with no warnings, you stared at him with wide eyes trying to comprehend what on god’s green earth did he just say

did you miss him too ? did you hate him ? were you over the fight ? did you really stop loving him or did you just hide those feelings ?

too many questions yet no answers, as he realized you didn’t answer he mumbled few apologies but you stopped him telling it was fine

“it’s just... it’s been so many years and we didn’t end up on good terms,” you explain

“yeah, no, i totally understand that is normal,” you nodd looking down at your lap. “can i hold your hand?”

“pardon me?”

“can i hold your hand? fuck that y/n, can i have another chance? allow treat you right, to love you deeply. that guilt that built up in me kept growing with the years, and now that you’re finally here i just want one thing as i see your face is to make up for everything, even after years.”

oh wow, you were definitely not expecting that; not from sakusa who wasn’t this expressive with his feelings and especially not after all these years

you held his hand and smiled sincerly at him, “it’ll take me time; to figure out how i feel and to trust you again, but i’d like to give it a chance,” he smiled back, hope filling his eyes

after that night you tried to spend a lot of time together

usually he would be the one to initiate it

he did his best to prove you that you can trust him and that he became a better person for you

your heart would melt everytime he told you about a memory of you together or how he still remembered stuff about you

you were on your guards in the beginning but slowly you began to soften

eventually you got back together, but that’s another story

it took several months but you don’t even know how happy he was

oh and let’s just not talk about the media and how powerful you guys were

anyway you were happy and that’s what matters

Tsukishima Kei

ara ara what we have here

do you know how the life works in a weird way sometimes? a compilation of events that happen by sheer luck, fucking coincidences that are just way out of this world that lead you to bump into that one person even if you don’t want to?

no ? aight sorry

anyway, that is lowkey what life had in store for you and salt shaker man

tsukishima had gotten into that college he wanted to attend

he was happy but he would’ve secretely loved if you were there to share his happiness

oh how little did he know that you got into that college too

ahaha *awkward laughter*

homeboy found it out in a special way, not the best way there is but you know he had to know a way or another

he went to that party with his two roomates who actually lowkey forced him ngl

as he was making his way to the kitchen he heard someone laughing, a laugh he’s heard way too many times but he shook it off thinking about how many people may have the same laughter

“oi y/n, you look hot!” a male’s voice shouted

what ?

there was no way you were there and he decided to make sure by checking out by himself

he was CHOKED when he saw you there

“tell me something i don’t know,” you laughed as you approached the boy who called you. “what’s up hot stuff ?” he said as you were finally next to him

hot stuff? tsukki almost gagged at the horrible name you were just given, yet it was not false that you were indeed ‘hot’; you looked as flawless as ever, you did a 180° change

the sweet, soft, innocent y/n was replaced by the baddest bitch in the motherfucking block he almost didn’t recognize you. he wondered if you stayed together would you have gone through this change an didn’t notice you coming his way

“god, don’t stand in the middle of the- tsukishima ?” you stopped when you saw his face. “you attending a party, what a surprise,” you stood there a hand on your hip

“oh y/n, how are you?” homeboy didn’t know how to act at this point, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck

“i’m doing great actually, so did you get into here ? the ‘college of your dreams’,” he could feel the sarcasm in your voice, he also noticed how cold you were

“yeah, thankfully. where’d you go ?”

“oh i go here, the same college as you,” you fake a smile, he feels his heart miss a beat.. or two.“you know sometimes i look back, and i can’t help from noticing that being in a committed relationship didn’t stop me from attending one of the best colleges out there and you, on the other hand who didn’t want anything to do with a relationship got here too,” you spat, obviously you didn’t get to tell him how you felt when you broke up. “good thing i’m not in the same major as you though,” you sighed

“y/n i_,”

“no save it tsukishima, there’s no need to say whatever you want to say. at this point i’ve moved on, i just found it funny to see you here after what you’ve said and how i actually also got here; now i know for sure that you were the problem... and i hated myself thinking it was me,” you scoff. “hope i won’t get to see you often, good luck for the rest,” and with that you left, joining a group of friends who waved for you to join them

needless to mention that he was pissed and heartbroken

he was not expecting that from you, he always saw you as this delicate person whose kindness is infinite

now, oh now he didn’t recognize you

even your voice got more.. mature? cold? idk

anyway after your encounter he directly headed back to his dorm

he couldn’t sleep the whole night rethinking about all what those years with you and what you said, you hated yourself as you thought you were the problem

bravo tsukishima they hate you, he thought to himself

uhm lol so the rest of your college ‘journey’ went without the two of you seeing each other

you were both majoring in different stuff, the campus is huge, y’alls schedules didn’t match and you had different friend groups

yet rarely he would find you at the library at 4am, many empty coffee cans on your table, looking all sleepy with your glasses falling off and your hair in a messy bun

“fucking ass why on god’s poluted earth did i ever want to major in that fucking shit of a topic, couldn’t i do something basic like stripper or something ? ugh fml,” he caught you once in the middle of an existencial crisis

he couldn’t help his lips from twitching upwards and he couldn’t stop the memories of the two of you studying together flooding his mind

he never came close to you tho, especially after what you told him in that party

sad </3

you guys graduated from college fucking finally

congrats folks you did it!

and you thought it was the end of your story

how sweet, how naive

uh-uh baby life decided otherwise and you saw each other years later

in the same company 🤪

“oi tsukishima-san, don’t forget we have a metting with the new manager in 10,”

how could he forget ? everyone has been talking about this manager for a week

tsukki was respected by all his work mates as he was such a good element what made him get the best promotions and claims from his boss

n e way

he got into the conf room where everyone was seated and took his place waiting for the new manager and the boss to come in, he was clearly annoyed and didn’t want to be there; he just wanted to finish his work on go back home

anyway his attention was brought back by his boss entering the room, “good evening everyone, with no longer introduction let me introduce you to y/l/n y/n your new manager,”

tsukki’s head SNAPPED, he almost broke his neck

tsukiskima.exe has stopped working

you were surprised when your eyes landed on him too but you’re a bad bitch and kept it professional

he couldn’t focus for the rest of the meeting, even tho it was just presentations and basic information for the future collaboration

the meeting ended and everyone went back home, except for you as you stayed in late to work on some stuff

you thought you were alone since it was late, but you were wrong since tsukishima had also stayed in late to finish up whatever file he was asked to analize

this is why you were startled when you heard some noise and a tall figure got out of the office ahead of you

“oh my,” you held your chest and relaxed when you noticed it was tsukishima, “i thought i was alone,”

“staying in late on your first day huh, didn’t know you were still here,” he responded, you noticed how his tone didn’t change from when you first met him in highschool, maybe his voice got a bit more deeper tho

you couldn’t help noticing how good he looked in his suit, it fit him really well. his broad shoulders covered by the dark blue vest, the first few buttons of his white vector shirt opened letting you lowkey see his collarbone

“yea well i’m leaving now, good night,” you quickly say and took your leave, seeing him after all this time was weird and you didn’t know how to feel

you still remember what you said the last time you saw him at that party, you were hurt and you said some things you probably regret by now and you thought that he probably hated your guts and as long as you wanted to be at the top in your new work you still decided to stay away from him

“ugh what a dumbass,” you whined and slapped the back of your head thinking tsukishima was still in the floor you left him in, but he saw you and his lips twitched upwards

everytime he thinks you can’t look any better you prove him wrong, he thought to himself as he went to his car finally heading back home. after all those years life decided to still play with you guys and put you in the same company, i mean, he wasn’t complaining but he wished it wasn’t awkward between the two of you

you guys started working together, a new journey for the both of you started

he thought you still hated him and that is why he was cold with you :(

so you were both distant with each other and if you ever had to talk it was cold, formal and quick

it’s been a few weeks your collegues had noticed the tension between the two of you

they were lowkey sus of something but didn’t want to butt in

it was physically painful to watch

n e way everything was going more or less smoothly until a new face made an appariction in the company

“my god! what are you doing here?” you hugged the good looking man

“i missed you and i thought that i couldn’t live without you, so i am here to cling,” you pull away and playfully slap his chest. “nah more seriously i am here to get that bag boo,”

“as you should hun, so you’re a trainee huh? i’ll ask them to put you under my supervision,” you wink

“say less,” he flirtily gets close to you

“uhm, sorry to interrupt your i bet very educational discussion but y/l/n, here, the file,” tsukishima butts in out of nowhere, his voice colder than usual and his eyes lowkey darker than usual

“oh thank you,” and he left

“well, that was awkward,” your friend cringes

“shut up, yuuji,” you roll your eyes

“wait wasn’t that tsukishami? sushikima? suspicual tall bitch who broke your heart?” the last attempt made you chuckle

“yes, it is,” you sigh, going through the file. “i can’t believe you still remeber that!”

“miss girl, you were not the one listening at your own self sobbing at how some tall, blonde, salt shaker broke your heart and how you’d want to, and i quote “punch his beautiful face then hug him so tight that i’ll squeeze his organs”,”

you narrow your eyes at him then for quite a while, then you scoff, “i am glad you’re here, dickhead,”

“so am i, headass,” he gives you a sincere smile

yuuji’s presence made things complicated even more

tsukishima didn’t appreciate the new flirty, good looking, lowkey smart trainee who was under your supervision

he was more irritable than usual, he knew he had no right to feel like that but still, he couldn’t help it

everytime he saw you two together working, laughing, grabing lunch together or even just being in the same area it made him want to break walls

but he couldn’t

he also saw how yuuji would flirt with other female collegues and it made him furious; you didn’t deserve that!

deserve what tho lol you and yuuji were friends but since tsukki was blinded by his jealousy or whatever he was feeling he assumes you were a thing or soon to be a thing

dumb mf

anyway

your boss had assigned you an important file to work on

all cool and shit until he mentioned that you had to work with tsukishima

ahaha.......... right

you started working the day after

°3°

it was awkward as fuck ngl, y’all would share max up to 3 words in a matter of 20mins

each one of you was sitting in their side

the tension buddy, the tension!!!!!

idk how you survived

day 2: you slapped some sense in yourself and an old relationship that ended in bad terms shouldn’t affect your work years after

so you started talking more, always pro stuff, but still

kei was the same as yesterday but that didn’t surprise you since he was always like that and you weren’t expecting anything from him except contribute effectively to the work, what he did

day 3: work in progress, nothing less

day 4: same as day 3 except that you stayed in later than the previous days

day 5: yuuji bursted in because he had broought you food, he kissed your temple before he left wishing you good luck. tsukki almost gagged, homie was fuming in rage

day 6:

it was late, everyone had left but you and kei still working on that goddamn file, thankfully he had given enough time to finish the work

“y/l/n, the food is here,” tells you tsukishima as he got back into the office

“thanks, i almost died from hunger,” you get up getting what you ordered

you were eating in silence until tall man decided to speak up, “funny, huh?” you looked at him confused. “how we went to the same highschool, same college and now we are working together,”

you just let an “oh” thinking about what you told him in that frat party, “i guess you were right, i was the problem,”

“tsukishima look, it’s been years and it’s all forgotten now okay?” he looks at his food, his mind elswhere

“remember what you told me in that party?”

“tsuki-”

“i mean, now that we’re grown ups we can talk about it, right? i feel like i didn’t get closure, not like i deserve it but still,8

you just nodd and go sit in front of him

“well, i lashed out on you on that party because i didn’t get closure, i was obviously still hurt and petty and immature. Seeing you there was like a slap in the face, i really want to apologize but i feel like what i said was true,”

“and it was true, it took sometime to accept it and realiwe it, but you don’t need to apologize; i didn’t treat you right, so i am sorry,”

you give him a small smile, “i am also sorry, i shouldn’t have talked to you that way it was rude,”

“but true,” he adds and you chuckle

“yeah, it’s all fine now. we can start over again,”

“i mean, i’d like to,” he gives you a small, tiny smile but you could still see it

“y/n?”

“mmh?” you look at him, your mouth full and cheeks about to explode

“i know we just made up and stuff but... please be careful with that new trainee,”

“yuuji? what why?”

“look i’m a man and i know wha another man thinks when i see him in action, and he’s just... not trustworthy i guess,”

“tsukishima kei, tf are trying to say?”

“look, i don’t want you to get hurt! but he is all flirty with other women and it’s just a huge disrespect to you and your relationship,” he explains

you look at him with wide eyes than laugh your ass off, you couldn’t believe what you just heard

“tsukki, yuuji is my bestfriend we’re not dating,” you wipe a tear tha slipped

he just stares at you, “oh” is all what he could say

“thanks for worrying tho,”

“whatever,” he rolls his eyes

as the days went by you and kei got closer

he would tease you and you’d tease him back

“oi, salt shaker, put my stuff on a high shelf again and i’ll pull your highschool pictures when you played vb,”

“as if you still have them” he scoffs

“don’t mess with me!”

“whatever shortie- OW why would you throw the stapler at me?”

“it’s your mouth that i’m gonna staple next time,”

anyway it was all giggles and shit

you enjoyed working together and gaining your complicity back

the due date came, you had to present in front of 3 other CEOs and your own ceo

you did an amazing job, obviously

everyone liked the harmony between the two of you and how neat your work was

“WOHOO here’s my bad bitch,” yuuji hugged you after the deliberation

“stfu we’re not alone,” you laugh. “did i look good?” you ask

he smirks and checks you out, twirling you and wolf whistling, “hotter than ever and thicker than snicker,” you laugh at his remark

“uhm-uhm,” tsukishima came behind you

“hey, sushimika, good job out there,” yuuji gives him a big grin

tsukishima just nodds and his eyes dart to yuuji’s arm around your waist, something he notices

“erm anyway, Vanessa is calling me gotta go,” he kisses your head and leaves

“he’s one of a kind, i gotta admit,” you say pulling him out of his trance

“i mean, y’all are bestfriends so i’m not surprised,” you roll your eyes

“we did a good job out there, i mean i was better but you weren’t too bad yourself,” he smirks

“you’re so annoying,” you laugh. “i guess we make a good duo,”

you lookn at each other for a while before tsukki finally speaks up

“uhm look, i know it’s only been one month since we’re back to normal but... would you maybe like to have dinner with me?” he rubbs the back of his neck

“like a date?”

“you know what i mean y/n,” he rolls his eyes

“uhm sorry i don’t clearly see what you mean,” you grimace

“ugh alright, like on a date, would go with me yes or no ?”

you laugh at his impatience, “pick me up at 7,”

“is that a yes?”

“you know what i mean, tsukki,” you say as you leave

so the date went well

really well

you didn’t want to burn steps so you lowkey took your time in the process of getting back together

going on dates, talking everything out to build a strong base

work together was fun

i mean i’m not gonna talk about the sneaky make out sessions but haha you know 👀

surely you got back together, even shared an appartement and you are the happiest you’ve ever been

he proposed 3 years after

fin

taglist : @fallingforyuu @ukhyeonn @yeonayona @terminallyvolatile @bryai003 @ichigo-post @virgyalizu

i truly hope you like it, <3

306 notes · View notes

starfleetbotanist · 3 years

Text

Physician, Heal Thyself (But Not Always)

🌹

It had been stupid, even he would admit that. Academy students were typically supposed to avoid bar fights. But Cupcake had been talking smack, and he'd had a few too many, so he had allowed the inevitable to happen. What he hadn't expected was for six other cadets to decide to use him as a punching bag. More surprising, though, was Bones.

He'd vaguely heard Bones trying to reason with his assailants before the roar in his ears drowned him out, but a fist to the stomach is a much more pressing matter than a pacifist doctor trying to tell you logic you don't want to hear, so he'd more or less written him off. That is, until he saw a cadet fall at his feet and turned to see his friend wading- and punching- through the crowd towards him.

He leapt at one of Cupcakes cronies as he landed a solid punch to Bones' face, causing the man to stumble back, a protectiveness he hadn't felt since Tarsus rising in him. But Bones regained his footing and gave as good as he'd gotten, before finally reaching Jim. Then he grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and dragged him from the bar, much like a mama cat with her errant kitten.

He stared at him, stunned, the entire way back to their room, Bones loudly scolding him about safety and rules the whole way, wiping blood from his now evidently broken nose. A sick feeling overcame him. What happened now? Was Bones going to leave, like Sam had?

He found himself dumped on the couch in an ungraceful heap as Bones' angry footsteps carried him to the bathroom and back. He sat on the coffee table, and Jim was relieved to see his medkit resting on his knee. He was (mostly) a model patient as Bones scrubbed at his cuts with antiseptic before using the portable dermal regen.

"You've got too damn good a brain, Jim, to go and get it knocked around by fools like that, y'hear me?"

He blinked. No, he hadn't heard him. Upon realizing that, Bones rolled his eyes before reaching over and lightly slapping his head- a move too gentle to actually hurt, and which he immediately followed with an affectionate ruffle of Jim's hair.

"This, your brain. Use it."

With that, he got up and headed back to the bathroom. Jim followed on his heels.

"That's it? You're not... More angry?"

"Jim, I knew when I signed up to be your friend there'd be risks. If a bar fight's the most danger we get in together I'd be surprised."

"But you got hurt!"

"Yeah, and you owe me for that."

He stopped in front of the mirror, opening his case again and finding the regen and a hypo. He reached up and, with a grunt, popped his nose back into place. He swore as he turned the hypo on himself, eyes watering.

"Scratch that, you really owe me," he said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," Jim replied. He meant it. He hated seeing Bones hurt.

"Just-- use your head next time. Okay?"

"Yeah-- yeah, okay, Bones. I promise."

"Good." He washed the blood on his face and hands before turning back to face him. "Then we can forget about it."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Okay. Thanks, Bones."

"Anytime, kid."

🌹

Nyota held her wrist to her chest, waiting in the academy clinic. She had hurt it in combat class that day, but thankfully not too badly. The clinic was understaffed that day, and she had told Christine she was fine waiting. It was just her and two other cadets in the waiting room, after all. Not everyone was quite so patient, though.

One of the others, a command cadet, was complaining loudly, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair, and bouncing his leg in agitation.

"How much longer is this gonna take?" He asked when Christine opened the door to call another patient back.

"Doctor McCoy or Doctor M'Benga will be able to see you soon, sir," she answered. "We will get to you as soon as we can."

Nyota prided herself on her ability to read people, and what she saw from the other cadet was not encouraging. He jumped up to his feet, crossing over to Christine with surprising speed.

"You can't just come back here!" She said, positioning herself between the cadet and the door.

"Watch me!" He snapped, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her out of the way.

Nyota rose, but she didn't need to interfere. Just as he was stepping into the hallway, he ran face first into Doctor McCoy, summoned by Christine's shout.

"Didn't you hear the lady? She said you ain't gettin' in here!" He snapped, though Nyota could see him running a clinical eye over the cadet. "Easy now. Looks like you're in withdrawal. How many stims have you taken?"

"None of your business!" The man snapped, and before anyone could stop him, caught McCoy on the side of the head with a right cross.

Christine leapt in, then, getting him into a safe hold and grabbing his arm to pin behind him as McCoy called for M'Benga to bring a sedative.

"Dammit," he swore as the other doctor handed him the hypo. "Sucker punches harder than he looks."

Once he was sedated, security called, and a treatment plan discussed for the over-use of stims to get him through the command courses, the cadet was taken to Starfleet Medical for a proper detox.

"You okay, Chris?" McCoy asked. Nyota had come to Christine's side as the cadet was taken away. The two had been friends since their first year.

"Just fine," she promised. "Didn't even fall. What about you?"

"I'll be fine," he shrugged. "Happens sometimes. Nothin' the regen can't fix."

"You might want to get on that before it swells too much, Len" M'Benga said. "I can finish up here."

"It'll hold," McCoy insisted. "But you can take that patient we just called back. C'mon, Ny, I only need one eye to see the swelling in that wrist."

"Only if you fix your eye, too," she threatened, following him back to one of the rooms.

"Wrist first," he said, taking out his tricorder. She answered his questions, let him strap the regen unit to her, and stared him into submission until he began treating himself while they waited.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked once they had both finished.

"Ain't that my line? Any residual pain?"

"None, thank you. Now answer me."

"I'm okay," he promised. "Not my first rodeo with someone hyped up on stims, and it won't be my last."

"Can't say I envy you."

"Yeah, well, it happens. Now, you be careful in that combat class, okay? Stretch right, and be careful which moves you use on which partners."

"I will. Thanks, Len."

"Sure, Ny."

🌹

"Scotty."

He looked up from the manual he was reading at the sound from the bathroom door.

"Ah, Doc! What can I do for you?"

"You can take a break from straining your eyes and come have some coffee."

He laughed, lowering the PADD he was reading from.

"Aye, that sounds good. What're you doin' up so early?"

He followed him into his room, where he could smell fresh coffee brewing. Like many things, McCoy seemed to prefer real coffee, and while Scotty tended to be more of a tea man, he never turned down real foods or drinks.

"Haven't been to bed yet- don't tell Jim or Spock."

He poured them both a cup, handing Scotty one of them and motioning to the sugar and creamer he'd set out.

"Aren't you the one always telling the crew the importance of a good sleep schedule?"

"Yeah, and that's why I'm askin' you not to tell on me," he grinned.

"Can you not sleep?"

"No, not really. I've been goin' over that last accident in Engineering. I've written up a few training proposals, and wanted you to read through them and tell me which you think'll work best before I submit them."

"Have you been working on this all day?"

"Since my shift ended, yeah."

Scotty saw him take two tiny pills from a bottle on his desk and take them before rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry, headache. Ibuprofen. Been at this a little too long, I think."

"Why push yourself like this, then?"

He scanned the proposals, an interdisciplinary first aid course specific to Engineering and the various injuries and accidents that could happen, a triage proposal to better prepare medical staff for what to expect when an accident is called in, and new safety guidelines and equipment inspection schedules.

"Well, every second counts, you know that. The sooner we get this smoothed out, the better. It could be life or death, and I'm not about to play games there."

"You never do," Scotty grinned, picking up a stylus and making a few notes. "I like this so far. I hope you made a lot of coffee, because I have a few ideas, too."

"I hoped you would," McCoy grinned, and the two sat down to begin work.

🌹

"You called me, Doc?"

"Mr Sulu, perfect timing!"

Doctor McCoy was standing by a selection of plants, studying them intensely.

"The botany department sent these up. They're medicinal. But the labels got mixed up, and we don't really know what's what."

"That's unusual," Sulu grinned, looking down at the selection. "She's usually more organized when making deliveries."

He began to catalogue the plants, calling to mind their uses.

"Fever few, plantain... Several of these are for stopping bleeding."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping for. We're training our medics to learn other ways to heal in the field."

"Good idea," Sulu nodded, fixing the lables.

"Thank you for the help," McCoy grinned. "Oh, Lieutenant Lyle brought another plant, but I'm not sure what it does. It was bigger than the others, so I set it in the office. Little bastard scratched me, too."

Sulu laughed, plucking a plantain leaf and handing it to him.

"Chew on that for a minute and put it on the cut, that will help."

He heard McCoy's thanks as he went into the office. He gasped. On the desk was a rare Andorian Passionflower- spiked where its Earth counterpart was not, and blue instead of purple. In place of a label there was a note, and he recognized the handwriting.

"Ben?"

"Surprise," McCoy said, stepping in. He had the chewed leaf against his finger. "We were asked not to tell you anything."

He opened the envelope. It was handwritten anniversary card. He smiled, warmth filling him.

"Happy anniversary, you two," McCoy said, patting him on the shoulder. "There's minutes on my computer for subspace communication. He's waiting for you to call."

"Thanks, Doc," he answered, wiping sudden tears from his eyes.

McCoy patted his back again before leaving him to his call.

🌹

"Doctor?"

"Mhm?"

"Why did you do it?"

McCoy looked at Chekov, who was eyeing wound on his arm with deep concern.

"Reflex," he lied, finishing ripping his uniform shirt into bandages. He turned his eyes away, focusing on tying off and tending the wound until the ion storm ended and they could contact the Enterprise.

"Captain Kirk is right. You are a terrible liar, sir."

He snorted, tying off his makeshift sling. He'd taken a rather severe cut from a spear from one of the inhabitants of this supposedly uninhabited planet. The spear had been aimed at Chekov, but he had managed to push the kid out of the way just in time.

"Captain Kirk can mind his own business."

"Doctor..."

McCoy sighed, leaning back against the cave wall. Chekov joined him, still looking at him with wide-eyed worry.

"You remind me of Joanna."

"Huh?"

"I did it because you remind me of Joanna."

"Who is Joanna?"

"My daughter. My whole world. I don't get to see her often, but she's my pride and joy."

"And I remind you of her?"

"Yeah. Can't explain it. It's probably because you're so young, or some misplaced guilt about not being there to protect JoJo that makes me want to look out for you instead that the psychologist really doesn't wanna think too much about."

He shrugged, closing his eyes.

"That, and I'm a doctor, and your senior officer. Not gonna let you get hurt if I can help it."

Running for their lives had worn him out, it seems. Chekov studied him for a moment before placing his head on his shoulder.

"You are very much the papa I always wanted. My grandmother, she told me stories about him. He was a good man. If he was... If I had known him longer, I would have liked for him to be like you, Doctor."

He felt a strong hand ruffle his hair.

"Get some rest, kid. I'll keep watch."

Chekov smiled, allowing his own eyes to close. He fell asleep wondering if McCoy would laugh or be angry that he had become, as the captain said, a "mama bear."

🌹

Spock stood beside Captain Kirk's hospital bed, arms folded behind his back. He had come to check on the progress of McCoy's serum on their friend. But, also, he was here to check on McCoy. Nyota had expressed worry over him that morning after visiting.

"You want a seat, Spock?"

He turned as the doctor entered the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a PADD in the other.

"No, thank you, Doctor."

McCoy set the coffee aside, moving to the bed to compare the data on the PADD to the biobed readings. As Spock watched him, he began to really notice the state the doctor was in. His eyes were bloodshot, ringed in dark circles, his hair sticking at odd angles, as though he had run his fingers through it many times. He hadn't shaved, and was looking rather gaunt.

"When did you last sleep, Leonard?"

"Does it matter, Spock?"

"I think it would matter to the captain. And... I admit to a concern, as well."

"May miracles never cease," McCoy muttered, and they both knew what miracle he was praying for.

"Doctor, you must rest. The captain's status is unlikely to change in the time it would take for you to eat and sleep."

"I can't, Spock. Not right now."

"Why?"

"Because he needs me."

"He needs all of you, Leonard. Not a shell of yourself."

McCoy's shoulders sagged at that.

"I don't want to leave him," he admitted. "I promised I wouldn't leave him."

"You do not have to leave him. You could bring a cot into this room, perhaps. Shower in the en suite, and eat the meals Nyota has been bringing you."

"When I try to sleep, Spock, all I can see is him in that chamber. In that damn body bag in my medbay. It... It hurts, Spock. In a very human way, it hurts. It- this grief, it's like a wound, Spock."

"As you so often tell me, Leonard, you are a doctor. You treat wounds, better than most. You are healing the captain. The best way to heal that grief is to continue to do so. But if you damage yourself with overwork, you will not be able to care for him to the best of your abilities."

McCoy was silent for a moment before nodding.

"You're right... Thank you, Spock."

"It is... My pleasure, Leonard."

When he visited again that night, he found McCoy asleep on a cot not far from Kirk's bed, PADD still in hand. He had showered and shaved. The plate Nyota had sent him was now empty, and someone, presumably nurse Chapel, had covered him with the knitted blanket that he usually kept on the couch in his office.

Spock allowed himself to feel relieved, and quietly retreated, turning down the lights as he did so. The next morning, Kirk woke up.

🌹

"He may be a little disoriented when he wakes up," M'Benga told the assembled officers. "It was touch and go there, and we nearly lost him a few times. But I do believe he will make a full recovery."

"You are sure?" Chekov asked, his face pale. Sulu had his hand on his back for support.

"Yes. He is stable. Now all he needs is rest."

"Thank you," Kirk spoke up, gripping one of McCoy's hands from his place beside his bed. "Bones couldn't have been in better hands."

"You remind him of that when he wakes up," M'Benga laughed quietly, his calm manner helping ease the tension in the crowd. "You can talk to him now, too. Even if he doesn't hear you, it'll help him to have friendly voices around."

Scotty coughed to hide a relieved sniffle, and patted Kirk's shoulder amiably.

"Why don't you start, Captain?"

Kirk nodded, thinking.

"Bones, you know we all love you, right? So you've gotta come back to us. It's not the same without you here yelling at me."

"Indeed, Doctor. Your colorful metaphors are... Missed." Spock looked down the line of visitors expectantly.

"Da, and you promised to let us talk to Joanna next time she called you!" Chekov watched the sleeping man eagerly.

"Yeah, she and Demora are going to space camp together," Sulu pitched in. "If you don't wake up soon, who's gonna tell them how dangerous it is?"

Nyota laughed at that, and everyone (save Spock) grinned.

"Aye, Len. And you're gonna have to be the one to tell Jaylah what happened, you know," Scotty said. "Otherwise the lassie's likely to steal a ship and come all the way from Earth to make sure you aren't still hurt."

"What about you, Uhura?" Kirk asked. "You know how he likes to hear you sing. Why don't you sing one of his favorites."

"Good idea," she nodded, thinking. "I know just the one."

Soon the medbay was filled with her soft, comforting voice.

"I'll keep you safe..."

🌹 This was a long one! Thank you for reading! This was based on a prompt by @hlabounty96 ! I hope you enjoyed! 🌹

#leonard mccoy #james t kirk #jim kirk #spock #nyota uhura #scotty star trek #pavel chekov #hikaru sulu #star trek aos #star trek #my writing

71 notes · View notes

astridthevalkyrie · 3 years

Text

summer rain: chapter 2

Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.

Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3

Okay, okay, so, you’d prided yourself on your plan. Getting the lieutenant himself to train you personally so you could learn his weaknesses and use his own tricks to one day take him down and humiliate him in front of everyone - it’s convoluted, but it’s a good idea. It’ll take a while, but it’ll work if you stay dedicated. Right? Right.

But you hadn’t actually expected him to agree. And so easily at that. He’d given you a quick look over as though he was scanning for some potential scheme, and then he’d readily said he would train you, which not only shocked you, it shocked both Captain Erwin and the woman who you learned was Lieutenant Hange Zoe. If his friends were surprised, then this must be out of character of him. You can’t imagine why he possibly would willingly take you under his wing.

Maybe...maybe the harsh treatment was some twisted way of looking out for you. A small bit of guilt blooms in your chest at the thought, but you quickly squash it down. There are other ways to prepare someone for their future than by publicly embarrassing and physically harassing them. A simple hey, focus up, cadet would have sufficed. Not that you’d have listened, but he doesn’t know that.

Yeah, he’s just a dick. He probably has his own messed up reasons to be doing this. You have to mentally prepare yourself for whatever cruel and unusual punishment he’ll be inflicting upon you.

His instructions ring through your head as you go to bed that night.

“Be at the grounds at 4 AM, sharp. Don’t be late.”

However, that’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s bad enough that you have to adjust your sleep schedule to wake up at 8 AM instead of 11 AM since they don’t allow for beauty sleep at the Training Corp (how are you supposed to maintain your flawless skin?), but now he expects you to be up and out of bed four whole hours than everyone else? No one is expected to be up at that time. Not even him. People are sleeping at 4 AM. No, you’re absolutely not going to be getting up just to train with a grouchy, perverted midget, thanks very much. If he was serious when he gave you those instructions, he’s going to have to deal with someone who values their shut-eye time. Sorry not sorry, Lieutenant. Your dreams are pleasant that night, letting you visit the market on the edge of Stohess which always smelled of fresh fruits and exotic perfume.

You’re content with your decision until a fucking wave crashes on you and brutally brings you back to the world of the living.

With a heaving gasp, you sit up straight in a coughing frenzy, spitting up water. Your hair is soaked, along with your nightgown. Fat droplets run down your face and bite into your cheeks. It’s cold.

“Be quiet,” Lieutenant Levi mutters casually, as though he didn’t just dump a bucket of water on you, “you’ll wake up the others.”

You gape at him incredulously, bringing your hands up to frantically wipe water off your face. For a second, you forget all formalities and you forget he ranks far higher than you, or perhaps you just don’t care, and you splutter out what you’ve been wondering since the moment you met him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

For someone who seems to enjoy teaching you discipline, he never actually tells you off for these comments. Instead of chiding you for being rude, he says in a snippy tone, “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get up, or I’ll refill the bucket.”

You don’t need any further encouragement. You throw off the thin and wet blanket and stand up, now fully awake. He rolls his eyes when he sees how silky your nightgown is - yeah, he damn well should feel bad for soaking such an expensive piece of fabric, the asshole. It’s worth more than that stupid tacky cravat he’s always sporting, that’s for sure.

Fortunately, no one else has woken up. Thank Maria, you’re not sure you could stomach someone seeing Lieutenant Levi demeaning you yet again. You shakily grab your clothes and uniform, and then turn to him. He raises a brow.

“Some privacy would be appreciated, sir.” You cross your arms over your chest protectively.

He scoffs pointedly, as though to tell you he’d have to be absolutely obtuse to want to see you naked, to which you only take a little offense. He gives you orders to hurry the fuck up and then leaves the barracks. You’re tempted to take your sweet time changing, but you really, really don’t want to risk getting soaked again. You just wish that you had time to dry your hair - the morning air outside is bound to be freezing. Sighing, you tie it up tightly, mourning the days you could let your precious tresses fly freely. Stupid military, stupid titans, stupid lieutenant. You dislike all of them greatly. In that order.

When you join him outside, he’s leaning against a tree, looking at you dully.

“Managed to have a tea party before you got down here, (L/N)? Or have you always walked at the speed of a snail?”

Holy hells help you, this is going to be a long day.

You salute, and he lets out a small tch, walking up to you and sizing you up. You tense up immediately, you wouldn’t put it past him to knock you down again for the heinous crime of making him wait.

“This is how this is going to work, Cadet.” He stands right in front of you and you force yourself not to look in his eyes, choosing to look at the pretty leaves on the birch tree behind him. “Every morning, from 4 AM to 6 AM, you’re here, and you’re doing whatever the hell I tell you to.” Probably allowing him to punch you in the face repeatedly. “Then you go back, get two more hours of sleep so that you don’t look like shit at breakfast.” It’ll take more than the likes of him to get you to look like shit, but sure, he can flatter himself. “If I’m on an expedition or not here for some other reason, you do a basic routine regardless.” Right, like he’ll know if you skip out. Nice try. “I might have you do other bits of training at another part of the day sometimes, but for the most part, we’ll be doing the brunt of it in the morning so it doesn’t interfere with your classes and shit.” Okay, that’s fair, and you can’t find a complaint with it no matter how hard you try. “Questions?”

You open your mouth, but he doesn’t give you a chance to actually ask anything before barking out an order. “Twenty-four laps around the grounds, now.”

Twenty-four? Okay, okay, you can do this, you knew what you were signing up for. He’s going to be harsh. He’s going to wear you out. You’re not going to break. Even if it’s the crack of dawn and he’s certifiably insane.

When you start running, his eyes follow you. You briefly wonder how he’s going to keep himself entertained throughout this, but then you remember that he’s cruel and terrible, and he’ll be entertained plenty watching you suffer. Besides, you have other things to focus on besides how much fun he’s having.

The maximum amount of laps Grumman has had you run so far is twelve, and that was with everyone else, so all the cadets could feed off each other’s energy and boost morale. Right now, there’s no one with you, no one to complain to, no one to hide behind so you can spend a few seconds walking instead of running. Oh, and it’s way too early. Have you mentioned that it’s way too early?

Half way through the fifteenth lap, you drop down on your knees and start panting. You’re tired. You want to go back to sleep. Screw your plan. Screw getting revenge.

“Oi!” The lieutenant calls out from his cozy spot under the birch tree. “I didn’t say you could take a nap!”

Most all all, screw him.

You hear him approaching, but you can’t bring yourself to get up. The grass is damp against your fingers, looking like a nice and cool spot to just lie down and rest your head for a few seconds. Sure, not as nice as a regular feathery pillow, but -

He kicks you on the side. It’s not that hard, but you still hiss in pain.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him -

“Get up,” he snaps, impatient. “You’ve got nine more to go.”

Everything about him is grating, from his voice to his polished shoes to his gorgeous grey eyes. How you wish you could shut him up.

Clearly not someone who enjoys waiting, he yanks you up by your arm, letting out another tch at your murderous expression. He applies just the slightest pressure against your skin, before speaking in a tone that makes it clear he’s getting fed up.

“You’re the one who wanted to be trained. If you can’t handle a few laps, then forget about getting into the top ten.”

“I don’t want to get into the top ten,” you huff, writhing in an attempt to break free of his grasp to no avail. Why does everyone and their mother assume you’re some tryhard goody two shoes? “And even if I did, running these laps isn’t gonna get me there. So can we just leave it at fifteen?”

Lieutenant Levi pulls you in closer, until you’re nearly nose to nose with him. Your eyes widen as he tightens his hold on you, and you despise that your heart beats faster for whatever godforsaken reason. Unwillingly, you think about what it would actually feel like to be wrapped up in his arms, to have his hands on your waist, to have his lips on your -

Fuck fuck fuck. Wrong and fucked up line of thought. Focus.

“You seem to think we’re collaborating here, (L/N). Let me make it clear,” he drawls lazily, “we’re not. You’ll do what I say, no questions asked.”

“I’m going to ask questions, sir. Blind obedience isn’t good for anyone.”

“I think it’s less to do with blind obedience, and more with you wanting to be a pain in the ass.”

“Very astute of you,” you say without thinking, and his shoulders move in what might have been a laugh, but it happens so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.

“Finish the laps,” he orders, letting go of you and jerking his head, telling you to hop to it.

You glare petulantly, but start running anyways. What he doesn’t realize is he just let you have a break, no matter how short it might have been, and that’s exactly what you needed. Not so clever, this one. You take the small win and feel triumphant, even though you still have to run nine more laps and your hair is still wet and it’s still a forbidden hour for anyone to be awake at.

Once the laps are done, Lieutenant Levi allows no further time for relaxation before ordering you into thirty push-ups, which is just thirty more than your preferred amount of push-ups. The amount of fucking delight he takes in putting his foot on your back, making it just a bit harder for you to get up each time, is unbelievable. He’s a damn sadist, who thrills in your pain.

After the push-ups are finished, you have to do squats. Once the squats are finished, you move on to crunches. Then around five million side kicks, or at least that’s what it feels like. Then forward lunges. Then tricep extensions against the tree. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

How fucking long is an hour anyway?

By the time the lieutenant finally tosses you a flask of water - he throws it so quickly it almost hits your face - you’re winded, out of breath, and dizzy. Nothing hurts per se, but your body is desperately begging for you to stop, to take a break, to just sit down for a single second. You know that any second now, you’ll be back in bed, and the only obstacle to that destination besides the fear that you might collapse halfway there is this asshole of a midget in front of you. You technically can’t leave until he dismisses you, a rule that you despise with all your being.

You think that dismissal is coming when he takes the flask back and then gives you another demand.

“Ten calf raises. Just a test run. I’ll see if I can put it into your routine.”

You look at him disbelievingly for two reasons - one, because he’s actually continuing this torture and two, he’s assuming you know what the hell calf raises are.

He sighs exasperatedly and then demonstrates. It seems simple enough, it’s just standing on your tippy toes, spreading your feet out, repeating the action, spreading them out even more, and then doing it again. Three angles, just a bit of balance for a few seconds.

At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to go back to bed.

So you start. You do three (there’s three angles, so technically nine, but who’s counting? certainly not you) and everything’s fine.

The fourth set leaves you a bit sore, but whatever.

The fifth set hurts.

The sixth set stings like a bitch.

After the seventh, you cry out in pain. It’s quiet, but mortifying.

Great, just great. The whole point of this was to pick up on his weaknesses, and here you’ve accidentally exposed your own. You freeze completely, eyes on the ground, waiting for the lieutenant to say something about how weak you’re acting.

But he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too nervous to look at him in case he catches the embarrassment playing out on your face.

Eight. Your calves are killing you, but you’re not going to cry out again. Ever.

Nine. Holy shit. Are you on fire? You think you’re on fire.

One more. You can do this. You’ve done all the others.

“Hey,” a sharp voice cuts through the air, but you pay him no mind.

You clench your fists, muster up all your strength, and push yourself up as hard as you can.

And immediately regret it.

Your legs buckle under you, and you stumble with a yelp. You didn’t mean to. It just hurt so bad, but now you’re going to be on your knees again -

Up until now, you’d seen how fast Lieutenant Levi could move because he was constantly throwing you around like a child would throw around its favorite toy. When you feel a breeze against your skin, your mind is thrown into an alarmed state for a fraction of a second. He’s coming at you, to what? Push you? You’re already falling down, so nice try, jerk, but -

It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s caught you.

With his arms hooked under yours, he lets you put your weight on him, ignoring your astonished expression. Even the blunt pain is pushed aside as you take in the fact that he stopped you from falling. Apparently you can only be knocked down when he decides you can. For the life of you, you truly cannot figure out just what this man’s deal is.

“Well, then,” Levi murmurs against your ear, “we’ll leave that one out from now on.”

____________________

Millie informs you that you look like shit over breakfast, and you tell her to kindly fuck off.

____________________

These lovely morning meetings become routine. Since you’re waking up earlier, you try your best to go to sleep earlier too, but you’re a night owl who can’t be caged, so the operation isn’t really successful there.

Instead, you try to rest any second you can during the day. While Millie, Stephen and Ricky are reading over their notes under the same birch tree that you and Lieutenant Levi meet at, you’re lying on the grass with an arm thrown over your eyes. It’s not like you need to study that hard - one doesn’t need whole hours to learn that titans are dangerous.

Besides, your arms are sore from your push-ups this morning. You usually don’t do the same thing twice in a row, apparently the lieutenant likes to switch things up. Which is just fine with you, of course, you’ve never been a fan of the same old thing every day; you joined the military to get away from the feeling that all your days were stationary and felt the same. And the whole dead dad thing, but that’s kinda secondary.

“Try putting ice on it,” Stephen offers helpfully, the only one of the three to take your complaining in stride.

“Try putting a gag in your mouth,” Millie adds.

“Try taking the stick out of your ass,” you tell her pointedly before offering a grateful smile to Stephen.

“Have you considered asking yourself if this is worth it?” Ricky tosses his notes aside and nudges your head with his knee. “Your super duper revenge plan -”

“It’s a mega super duper revenge plan.”

“Yeah, that. Is it worth exhausting yourself like this?”

Surprisingly, Stephen is the one who speaks up. “I don’t think it’s right for a superior to disrespect his subordinate and get away with it without any repercussions.”

“Look, what he did was...sketchy,” Ricky concedes, “but he’s him, y’know? Some people are good enough to act like that and get away with it.”

“No one’s good enough to act like that. Do you know how hard he runs me into the ground every single day? He’s never satisfied, not until I’m fucking collapsing. The only reason he’s stopped dumping water on me is because he says it’s a waste of resources.” You blow out a puff of air, frustrated. Why does no one understand how not okay the lieutenant’s actions are? “And he never does anything himself. I haven’t picked up any weaknesses. I have to keep going until I find one.”

“That’ll take you your entire time here.”

“So be it,” you say dramatically, before finally sitting up.

You’ll stick to it for however long it takes. There are boundaries that should never be crossed, and Lieutenant Levi’s managed to cross every single one of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar figure. It’s him, of course it’s him. It’s not enough that he disturbs your sleep, no, he has to make his presence known during the day too. Sure, maybe he’s just going about his day and not actively trying to aggravate you, but he’s still in your line of sight and he has such a punchable face.

Maybe Lieutenant Levi senses that he’s being watched, because his head turns and he catches your gaze.

You wave with a sugary smile, acting like you weren’t just fantasizing about punching his face.

Without so much as an acknowledgement, he looks away and keeps walking.

You scoff. Rude fucking midget.

____________________

The best parts of your days are undeniably after hours. Or more specifically, that small period before dinner and bedtime, when there’s nothing required of you, and you can slip away. You like leaving a bit earlier than everyone else, just to enjoy the cool night outside. It’s funny, how there are so many rules and restrictions here at the military, but a girl can still just get up and wander outside at night and no one will look at her strangely. It’s a wonderful feeling, freedom.

You’re just about to begin what’s sure to be a leisurely walk around the grounds when there’s suddenly a vice-like grip on your arm. You gasp, the first instinct to defend yourself. You raise your fist and immediately launch it, only for it to be caught rather easily.

The lieutenant rolls his eyes at your attempt to defend yourself. “I sincerely hope you never get mugged.”

If he followed you out here, that’s frankly quite creepy and he should feel ashamed of himself.

“I hope someone steals your cravat,” you mutter, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “Can you let go? Sir,” you add quickly - it was becoming easier to forget that you had to refer to him properly. “I have a walk to take that doesn’t involve doing push-ups or crunches.”

His eyes are alight with cruel intentions. You hate that you still find them fascinating. “I have a training exercise for you.”

“You’re a few hours early, Lieutenant.” You give him a condescending smile. “See, 4 AM actually isn’t until much much later. It’s okay, I know telling time can be tough.”

His lips purse in displeasure, and you mentally do a small, victorious dance.

“Be that as it may, I recall telling you that your training can take place at any time that I see fit.”

“But,” you protest, stomping your foot childishly, “you also said you didn’t want to interfere with my regular training!”

He makes a point of looking to the right and then to the left and then finally back at you. “I don’t see any drills going on around here. Do you?”

If you say you do, will he let you off? Probably not, he’ll just cart you off to the infirmary and declare you mental.

“Fine,” you mutter with gritted teeth, “what is it now?”

Without answering, he turns and beckons you to follow. Like a good little obedient soldier. You fume silently, walking behind with clenched fists. First he cuts into your rightful nap time, and now into your wonderful walking time. Is there no limit to the amount of serene, private moments he plans to intrude on?

For some reason, the two of you head indoors, towards the rooms and offices. You may just be a dumb cadet, but even you’re pretty certain that none of the exercises are done in here. Is he taking you to his room? Why would he -

Wait.

Your mouth falls open, but your steps don’t falter. This is highly inappropriate. You don’t know what kind of woman Lieutenant Levi takes you to be, but you did not sign up for this. So you ask him to train you and call him sir a few times, and the man thinks you’re all good and willing, does he? That since he’s Humanity’s Strongest, he can have whoever he wants? What an insult to the name of courting. Where he finds the nerve to keep pulling stunts like these, you’ll never know.

Training your ass. This is an indecent night call. And you would never, ever -

Well.

Maybe. In a hot, scandalous kind of way that you would only ever tell Millie about. Not that you’d enjoy it, not with him. It’s more the forbidden aspect that’s attractive. It’s certainly not about the lieutenant, even with his nimble fingers and cold eyes and sharp tongue that you’re sure he could work wonders with - okay so maybe it is about him a little bit.

But it would also be delightful to turn him down. To watch the light leave his eyes (not that it was there in the first place) as you proudly tell him you respect yourself too much to sleep with a man who’s so arrogant and callous. Yeah, that’ll show him.

His fingers, though.

You’re so caught up in your little debate that you almost crash into him when he stops in front of a door. Ah, a private area. The barracks? How many members of his squad does he share a room with? You twitch uncomfortably.

“Here we are.” Even his voice sounds sultry. Or maybe it always sounds like that. Who knows.

“Why are we here, sir?” Your throat feels dry.

He turns and gives you a look that is decidedly not sexy. Rather, it seems like he thinks you’re the most idiotic person he’s ever had the unfortunate pleasure of laying his eyes on.

“You’re going to clean up in here, did you not hear me the first time?”

What?

You’re not sure what feels the most embarrassing. The fact that he’s apparently decided you’re the official Training Corp maid, or that you had actually been so comfortably considering sleeping with him that you tuned out what he was saying.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you frown. “Sir, I mean no offense -” He raises a brow, clearly ready to get offended - “but your, er, sanitary habits are pretty much known to everyone here. I doubt that I’ll be able to make your room sparkle more than it already does.”

Lieutenant Levi scoffs. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t my room.”

He opens the door and your mouth falls open in horror.

“This is Lieutenant Hange’s lab,” he explains as he steps in, “and before you ask, I’ve already secured her permission for you to clean up.” Producing a broom out of thin air, he shoves it in your waiting hands.

“Lieutenant, I...this is…”

“Disgusting. Yeah. So better not waste any time. You need to get some sleep if you want to survive your morning drills tomorrow.”

“Lieutenant, I’m from Stohess.” Too late do you realize that you’re pleading. “I’ve never even seen a pig’s den that is as messy as this.”

Countless exercises at the crack of dawn, and this is what’s broken you. The room is horrifying. It’s straight out of any neat freak’s nightmares. You don’t know how the lieutenant even stomachs looking at it.

“Never cleaned your own room, huh? Not surprised,” he muses, and you shoot him a dirty look.

This isn’t the spoiled brat in you talking, no, this is the sane human who knows that this room is basically hell incarnate.

“How does this count as training? You just need someone to do the Survey Corps’ dirty work!”

“Is there anything you don’t complain about?” he demands, but oho, you are ready.

“Exercising I can understand. Your random bursts of physical violence - harsh, but whatever.” Not like you’re trying to get vengeance for them, but he doesn’t have to know that. “This is just work, and I want to be paid if you’re making me do work.”

This makes him snort, shaking his head at you like he’s your teacher and you’re not understanding the most basic of concepts. “You’re not a merchant, (L/N), you’re a soldier.”

“A soldier, not a servant!”

“I am ordering you to do this,” he says softly, “are you disobeying an order, Cadet?”

Well, when he puts it like that, you’d rather not get kicked out of the military before you even complete your training. And certainly not before you make the lieutenant pay with everything you have. Oh, revenge will be sweet.

Begrudgingly, you step into the lab, swallowing your nervous inhibitions. This place is a dump, you wonder how Lieutenant Hange even gets any work done in here.

Goddammit, you are never going to clean this place up, no matter how hard you try!

“Like I said, we still need you to sleep,” the he-devil murmurs behind you, “so this better be done in an hour. I’ll come check on you then.”

Oh, fuck him. You wait until he leaves, and then get to work.

____________________

His royal highness comes back an hour later just like he said he would. When he opens the door, he finds you sprawled on the floor against the wall, tired but with your chest puffed up proudly, eyes zeroed in on him to see his reaction.

The room is spotless and distinctly organized. Papers that were strewn everywhere are now in one pile next to a stack of Lieutenant Hange’s many, many journals. Vials and flasks have been placed on top of one another by the sink, where they can be quickly washed and ready for use. The tops of the desks are spotless and dust-free. The floor is not only clean, but shiny.

There’s a brief flash of surprise on Lieutenant Levi’s face as he looks back at you. You allow yourself to smirk. Sure, your arms hurt even worse than they already did and you still feel like a maid because you’ve done more cleaning in the last hour than you have in your entire life (not because you’re spoiled, just because no rooms back home are ever this messy), but it’s worth it to see that he’s impressed by you, no matter how he tries to hide it.

You don’t know why you want him to be impressed in the first place, but you decide not to question it right now.

“Not bad,” he finally relents, walking up to you. “You plan to sleep here, or are you gonna get up?”

You snort. Such a charmer, this one. Well, you’re too lazy to stand on your own, so you hold your hand up expectantly. It’s really the least he can do after being no help at all.

After giving you a long look, he takes your hand and pulls you up to your feet. Your legs feel a little wobbly, and you wryly think about how you’d figured you’d be leaving the base with wobbly legs anyway. What a ridiculous fantasy. You hate him, and he probably hates you too. You would never do anything of any sort with him.

“Go to bed,” he orders quietly, taking note of how tired you look.

“So, 5 AM tomorrow, right?”

Again, he looks dryly amused like he always does when you say things like this, as though you’re just the funniest fucking person he’s ever met. “Nice try, (L/N).”

“When do you even sleep?” you question, brows furrowed in curiosity. You’ve wondered for a while.

Lieutenant Levi shrugs. “Usually from 1 to 3.”

You blink in disbelief, shaking your head. “Sorry, what?”

“Got a problem with that?” He’s clearly not fond of where the conversation’s headed, since he grabs you by the back of your collar and pushes you forward, out of the room. You comply, but you’re not done with this line of questioning. No one can just get two hours of sleep daily and continue to function normally.

“Is this why you’re so grouchy all the time?”

“You have no respect at all,” he quips, still shoving you ahead. The base is for the most part, bare and empty, since nearly everyone’s gone to bed by now. There’s only a few people still around, and they pay the two of you no mind.

“Have you always been an insomniac?”

“Fail to see why it’s any of your business.”

“Are you trying to make me an insomniac?”

The lieutenant sucks in an exasperated breath. “No, then I’d be punishing all insomniacs.”

“Rude.”

“You’re one to talk.”

You don’t know why it’s so easy to engage in banter with him. He never discourages you, as much as he points out how unruly you are. In fact, he seems to enjoy it almost as much as you do.

And you do enjoy it, as much as you don’t want to.

“Lieutenant,” you begin hesitantly, not sure why you’re saying this, “I hear chamomile helps people go to sleep.”

“So it does,” he mutters dryly, “thanks for the observation.”

Fuck him, you were trying to be helpful.

“Are you going to walk me all the way back?” You hum thoughtfully, craftily. “People might get the wrong idea.”

At this, his footsteps stop, and you wince. God, your mouth really just runs a mile ahead of your brain at all times, doesn’t it? It won’t be satisfied until you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you just can’t get out of. Implying to Lieutenant Levi that people would think the two of you had sex is just the icing on top of the snarky cake you’ve been baking him since you got here. When you turn around, he’s looking at you with an appraising expression.

“What wrong idea will they get, Cadet?” he asks softly, grey eyes piercing through you.

Your mouth is dry. Surely he knows, does he need you to say it? Of course he does, he wants to make you uncomfortable. You can’t even blame him, this one’s all on you.

Screw it, you might as well be blunt.

“They might think we slept together.”

If he’s taken aback, he doesn’t show it. “I see. And what would you do if these rumors spread?”

You take a deep breath. “Gouge my eyes out, sir.”

This time, you can’t chalk it up to your imagination or a trick of the light. He scoffs, but he’s laughing, normally cruel lips twisted in a humorous smile. You’re surprised by how pleasant the sight is, like looking at a lily in a field of roses. Out of place, yet so very beautiful, a sight you can’t take your eyes off of. Just how does one man manage to be so fascinating? It takes a lot to make you want to swoon, especially for someone who you harbor such negative feelings for. How does he manage it so easily?

“Can’t have that.” His expression is still lit up in mirth. “You better go the rest of the way yourself.”

You salute, and turn around. Even as you walk, the image of him laughing - laughing at something you said - is burned into your mind, and it makes something in your chest clench in an all too unfamiliar way.

Maybe he watches you go, but you’re too proud to look back and check.

____________________

The air is abuzz with excitement. Everyone’s been waiting for this day. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that everyone joined the military simply so that they could do this.

This being using the ODM gear, of course. Everyone has mastered the basics by now, or they’ve dropped out. The one who stayed have perfected balancing and not falling flat on their faces, they’ve watched senior veterans use the gear, and they’ve gotten a brief example of what it feels like to be shot forward through the air. Utilizing the blades properly will eventually be taught too, but for now, they get to practice flying. Actual flying. How amazing is that?

While people usually pair off on their own, Grumman sees fit to assign pairs himself today, much to everyone’s chagrin. By some shitty luck, you’re not paired with Millie, Ricky, or Stephen. You’re not even paired with Nifa or Jack, who you’re friendly enough with.

No, you’re paired with Petra fucking Ral.

You probably wouldn’t even know or care about who Petra was if not for Millie’s incessant complaining about her. Petra is one of the few people who balanced in the gear belts perfectly on her first try (you were also in that group, but Millie’s not gonna complain about you to you), Petra is all their teachers’ favorite because of how easily she retains information, Petra doesn’t have a hair out of place even when she fights. Petra this, Petra that.

Petra is Millie’s main competition for the number one position.

Frankly, you think your best friend is projecting.

“Do you feel a bit ridiculous too?” she asks after the two of you have put your gear on.

“Just a little.” You face her and strike a pose. “Do you think the titans would appreciate some more flair?”

Petra laughs, nodding. “Some eye candy would go a long way, I’m sure.”

The two of you exchange grins, straightening to attention when the instructor passes in front of you. He looks between you and murmurs something to himself before shouting out loud for just about everybody to hear. “(L/N) and Ral will go first! All the rest of you little shits, pay attention!”

Apparently being paired with golden girl Petra Ral means that you’re supposed to be a role model or something now. You groan inwardly - it seems everyone is convinced you want to be a model cadet. When will they get it through their thick skulls that you’re not that boring?

You and your partner step apart until there’s a safe distance between you two. In front of you is a forest, a forest that is the perfect place to practice with the ODM gear. You grip the handles firmly, knees crouching a little. Excitement bubbles inside you as you tense in anticipation. This is it! This is the first step to you becoming a full-fledged soldier. You’re one step closer to everything you’ve worked for.

“On my mark! Ready, set…”

You toss your shoulders back and push your chest forward and out of the corner of your eye you see Petra do the same.

“Go.”

Whizzing sounds are heard as the two of you fire your cables at the same time. You gasp as you’re shot forward, hurtling through the air at an electrifying speed. The trees rush past you in a blur of green and brown as you go up, up, up into the sky. You let out a breathless laugh as the hooks come free. This feeling, this feeling of your stomach jumping, this nerve-wracking feeling of doing something so dangerous and so thrilling at the same time - you’ve been craving it all your life. And here you are. You’re doing it, you’re actually up in the air and you’re flying. It’s incredible. You could stay up here forever.

So enthralled are you by this experience that you forget to hook to the next target, and with an unceremonious shriek you tumble through the branches and fall on the dirt below. Some gets in your mouth, unfortunately, and you hear loud chortles behind you. You spit out the rancid soil, shooting a glare behind you when you hear another whiz.

Up above you, Petra is still in the air. She’s slowly lowering herself down, though, concern dancing in her eyes as she stumbles to a stop a few feet away from you and rushes to help you up.

“Are you okay?” She looks genuine.

You sigh. Fucking Millie, she couldn’t share your distaste for Lieutenant Levi but she found it in her to hate this girl?

“I’m alright.” You take her hand and stand up, dusting dirt off your clothes. “Just got carried away.”

Petra giggles. “You were saying something about flair, right?”

You smile wryly, beckoning for her to come closer as an idea pops into your head. “We’ve got about two minutes before Grumman sends in the next pair. I bet I can get deeper into the forest than you can.”

Her eyes shine competitively, and she nods.

And without a beat, you two are up in the air again. You’re not a natural like she is, but you sincerely doubt that she or anyone else appreciates the wind whipping through their face quite like you do. You belong up here. You can feel it. For the first time in your life, you know instantly that you’re creating a memory that you will cherish for however little time you might have left.

____________________

Your heart beats with excitement as you bounce on the heels of your feet, looking behind your shoulder nervously. “Hurry up, Ricky!”

“I’m hurrying, now be quiet, someone’s gonna hear you.”

You don’t see how. No one is wandering around the kitchens right now. The cooks who prepare the food left their stations ages ago, and no one else in the base would have any reason to be wandering down here. Normally, you wouldn’t have any reason either, but today is a bit of a special day. Or more accurately, it’s a precursor to a special day. The day after tomorrow will mark the Survey Corps’ next expedition and as always, the cooks are preparing something special for the heroes and fools. An energizer for some, and a last meal for others. While you know that the lowly cadets haven’t done anything heroic - yet - you and Ricky agreed that some pastries would surely make everyone happy. Just a few measly sweet tarts, the Scouts wouldn’t miss them. You didn’t lay a hand on the meat, knowing fully well that most of the people going out in two days would savor it much more than you would.

Ricky is quickly shoving the tarts into a pouch, taking his sweet time counting so that everyone got the same amount. Fucking outer city peasant, concerned with fairness. You sigh impatiently, bouncing on your feet. You’re hungry. The bread at dinner seemed even more stale than usual today.

“Hey, what are you two doing?”

Your eyes widen at the same time as Ricky’s - why in the holy hells is the head chef still here? Does he sleep here? Before you can consider the disturbing implications of that possibility, you’re grabbing Ricky’s arm and running for all you’re worth. You’re counting on the fact that it’s dark in the kitchens, so hopefully he didn’t see your face. Unfortunately, the chef seems intent on finding out who broke into his precious kitchen, because he clambers on out after you.

After running for two minutes, he shows no sign of stopping.

“S-split up,” Ricky pants, wheezing as you two flee.

“Fine,” you huff, a bit proud of the fact that you’ve got more tolerance than he does, “but I want leverage.”

Without waiting for him to respond, you snatch a pastry from the top of the bag and skid to the hallway on the right while Ricky keeps running forward. The chef chooses to chase him, and you cackle maniacally at your friend’s terrible luck. You’re home free, and you have your dessert as a trophy too.

You turn your head to double check, turn back, and then crash face first into someone’s chest.

Rough hands grip your wrists to catch and steady you, and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you want to scream.

Why is he everywhere?

Lieutenant Levi’s gaze goes from the tart in your hand to your panicked expression, and he understands what’s going on without any need for an explanation from you. He takes a step closer to you, tugging you firmly so you can’t move back. You swallow nervously, stuttering out apologies for crashing into him and for being up past curfew. He listens to you ramble, but doesn’t let go. His eyes flicker to the pastry again.

“Those are for the Scouts,” he murmurs lowly. Is it your stupid imagination again or does his voice sound more husky than usual? “Not for fucking brats, (L/N).”

Normally you’d answer with some witty comeback, but you’re feeling a bit dizzy with how close he is and how hungrily his stormy eyes are watching you. The most you can do is open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You’re in deep shit now, you know that much.

Without removing his piercing gaze from your face, he lowers his head a bit, and takes a bite out of the tart in your hand.

You could swear your heart stops beating for a second. His grip on your wrists suddenly feels like it’s hard enough to make them bruise, even though you can tell he’s not holding on that tight. You watch him chew, swallow, and then lick his lips, all without looking away for even a second. It’s mesmerizing. Before you can tell what you’re doing, you raise the tart a bit, and let him take another bite. As though you’re fucking feeding him, like a good fucking girl. The lieutenant’s lips curl into a small smirk, and you think you’re going to drop on the spot when he takes a third bite, finishing the pastry, the tip of his tongue just brushing against your index finger.

You wonder if he can hear just how erratically your heart is pounding.

Levi’s close, too close. You don’t know what to do, how to break his scrutiny of your face, or if you even want to. He leans in, just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat. When did you forget how to breathe? It should be easy. Suck in air, let it out, repeat.

He tilts his head a millimeter.

You sigh in anticipation, lean forward, and…

He turns away at the last second, and your lips meet his cheek.

Fuck.

You gasp against his skin, not moving. From his amused expression, he can tell that your face is burning up. Somehow, he’s managed to embarrass you again, even if this instance isn’t public and doesn’t end with you in pain. This feels worse than all the other times, though. Before, you were simply thrown around, his way of calling you weak. Physically weak. Not strong enough, a rookie. But this, this is him telling you that he knows he lords some power over you, something that transcends his rank. Something personal.

“Thanks for the snack,” he says, stepping back only a little (see: not enough) to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now hurry to bed before I decide I want more.”

Heat pools from your stomach right down to your core. If possible, your cheeks grow even hotter.

The lieutenant lets go and turns around, leaving you standing there with a wide-eyed expression, feeling strangely empty as you watch him go.

You’re never going to let him catch you breaking curfew again.

If you’ve never done calf raises before, I do not recommend, they genuinely will leave you sore for a bit if you’re not used to them. But otherwise, yay for exercise I guess.

Reader is very cocky but we love her for it.

We don’t have Petra slander here, folks. I adore her. Millie doesn’t, though. Rip.

Let me know what you think!

#aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #levi x reader #snk x reader #levi ackerman #snk

209 notes · View notes

a-sour-nectarine · 3 years

Link

Summary:

The memories froze him. He didn't realize that Obi-Wan was calling his name, increasingly urgent, or that the water had reached his hips. It was cold, not as cold as it had been back on Kamino, but still just above freezing. He could almost imagine the crimson light of the clock, the sneering face of the trainer. The trainer hadn't been inherently cruel, but years of torturing little boys did something to the psyche.

So Cody suspected, at least.

Finally, a cry of "Cody!" woke him from his reverie. Obi-Wan was sobbing on the other side of the chamber, in a way Cody have never seen him cry, hand gripping his hair tightly enough to stretch the skin above his ear.

The water was up to his chest now, and rising fast, and the panic was still tight in his chest, but he made himself look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Before he did though, he caught his own gaze. His face was smooth in the crystal, no scar marring his temple. He absently wondered how anyone would be able to tell who he was, stuck in a child's body with no scar.

Notes:

Everyone shut up, I was supposed to post this last night, but I fell asleep. I am aware that it's Monday. Don't want to hear it.

This is my fourth and final submission for Codywan Week 2021! I really tried to do all seven days, but for my first ever event like this, I don't think I did too bad.

Prompt is an alt, Sith/Jedi Artifact Shenanigans.

"Um, commander?"

"What, Waxer?" Cody said irritably, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Day three in the remains of this stupid temple, and Cody, General Kenobi, Waxer, Boil, and six shinies, all yet to be named, had been grating on each other's nerves nonstop.

"You might want to... um... check in a mirror."

"Lieutenant, unless you have a mirror with you, that's not gonna happen."

"I just, um. Hold on. I'll take a picture, send it to your HUD."

Seconds later, said picture showed up in front of Cody's eyes. "Oh, Force."

A sleepy voice from the back of the room piped up. "Force what?"

Cody removed his helmet and shared a look with Waxer. That was not a brother, but it didn't quite sound like the General either, meaning....

"Hey, General, you might wanna come over here." Waxer shrugged at Cody as he called out. Sure enough, the figure making it's way over to them was not the General, or, at least, not the General they were used to. He looked like a cadet.

Well, so did Cody, so who was he to judge?

"Oh, Cody!" Obi-Wan exclaimed once he noticed the commander's state. He didn't seem to be able to stop the smile pulling at his mouth.

"Ah-ah, speak for yourself, General."

Obi-wan squinted down at his robes, which were the same as the ones he went to sleep in. He was drowning in them, looking only slightly less ridiculous than Cody did in his oversized armor. "Well, this is unfortunate."

Boil snorted. "Maybe one of you is small enough to fit through that hole now.

The General lit up. "Brilliant, Boil. Someone boost me up."

Boil snorted again, but followed him to the far wall. It had been pretty destroyed in the explosion, though still pretty effective in keeping the ten of them trapped. But maybe, now that Cody and Obi-Wan were smaller...

"Wait, wait, we aren't going to address the fact that we are– small? What caused it?"

Obi-Wan's lips quirked up in a smile, and Cody noticed how much more expressive he was when clean-shaven. "Well, I suspect it was caused by the artifact that also triggered the explosion that trapped us here. So, personally, I'd rather worry about it later." He held up the small slate of rock, carved with languages none of them could read.

Cody gaped for a second. That was pretty good thing to say if Obi-Wan wanted all the men to immediately lose faith in either himself or Cody. They had never disagreed in front of the troops, no matter how minor the issue. Equally unusual, he felt the urge to snap back. It was like he was four all over again— Oh. He was, wasn't he?

"Alright, but if you make it through, expect me to follow."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Obi-Wan chirped, grinning like he had just won some huge award.

Turned out that they both did fit, though Cody had to get shoved through and his shoulders got a little scraped up. But it was worth it for the first breath of fresh air outside.

Obi-Wan turned to him, eyes wide, and laughed. "I was honestly not positive that would work."

Cody couldn't help but join him in his laughter, breathless and a little manic, before a voice called out from inside the rubble.

"Will you two grow up and go find a damn signal?"

That was definitely Boil, no one else would speak like that to their COs, even if their COs were children. Cody couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, yeah, old man. We're going." Cody really was just content with losing all respect, wasn't he. Eh, he was four, he was allowed to be petulant. Besides, he doubted that the eight people still trapped under the debris would be telling anyone else. Not because he trusts them, hells no, but because the situation was almost as embarrassing for them as it was for him and Obi-Wan. After all, they were the ones whose shebs would be saved by children.

Obi-Wan held out his hand, and Cody took it without a second thought, not that he had time to. The Jedi took off the second he had a hold on Cody's fingers. They ran up to the closest hill they could find and surveyed the landscape. Nothing but red grass and blue flowers and crumbling old ruins as far as the eye could see. It was almost beautiful.

Until it started raining.

A couple of light drops of water was all the warning they got before the sky opened, absolutely soaking them immediately. Cody groaned and took off again–-still attached to Obi-Wan–-towards the nearest gray, stone building that looked like it still had a ceiling. As soon as they made it inside, they heaved out twin sighs of relief. The building wasn't completely waterproof, but it was good enough. They made their way into the middle of the floor, where there was the least amount of leakage, and Cody shook himself savagely. The rain outside was not slowing, in fact, it seemed to only get heavier as time went on. Lightning flashed every few seconds. The thunder was constant, but could barely be heard over the sound of the rain.

And then the walls came down.

Not "came down," as in they fell. "Came down," as in a separate set of walls dropped in from the soggy ceiling, completely (and separately) entombing Cody and the General. The walls were some kind of clear glass or crystal, faceted and almost completely transparent. The wall between them had gaps in it, sort of decoratively symmetrical.

"Uhh, Commander?"

"Yeah, sir, I noticed." Cody pounded on the wall, and it didn't even crack. Not glass, then. His enhanced strength would have taken care of glass that thick, child body or no.

In spite of the situation, Obi-Wan giggled, his voice echoing oddly from the other side of the crystal. "Cody, please don't call me "sir," it feels strange. I'm eleven."

"How can you possibly know how old you are?"

"No scar on my thumb. I rub it when I'm nervous, but right now there's nothing to rub."

"How do you know you aren't– I dunno, nine?"

"Just a guess, I suppose. I feel too tall to be nine. You, on the other hand, look younger than that."

Cody quickly crunched the numbers in his head. "S'pose that would make sense, if it's relative. I'm developmentally about 10 years younger than you. Twenty-four to thirty-five, eight to eleven."

"You're ignoring the fact that we are trapped."

"Yes, I am."

"That doesn't change the situation."

"I'm aware. But, as previously stated, I am eight years old. Four, actually. I'm trying not to panic. How are you calm?"

"Oh, I'm not. I'm actually fighting off a panic attack, if I am to be frank. This is almost exactly how Qui-Gon died, with me trapped on the other side of a ray shield. I just keep talking because it seems to distract me."

Cody cursed himself. He knew that, and it should have occurred to him that this was probably Obi-Wan's worst nightmare. He kicked his feet along the bottom of the wall, and noticed a particularly concerning fact. The crystal was growing. Not just randomly growing, it seemed to be specifically growing to cover the holes in the wall, creeping up and up. And, as if that wasn't worrisome enough, Cody's feet were wet. Not from the rain, but from the water seeping up from the floor. It was rapidly climbing higher, just a little below the level of growing crystal. The sound was rather pleasant, Cody noted, but he also noted that Obi-Wan's side of the little prison was completely dry.

The irony was not lost on him. And the irony was pretty kriffed up.

And it got worse once Obi-Wan noticed. The Jedi just let out a hysterical little laugh, and started pacing. "Wow, how wonderful."

"Hey, Ge–Obi-Wan, it's okay. It's okay. It's really slow."

Obi-Wan stopped pacing and stretched his hand through a hole at shoulder height, yet to be covered. Cody didn't even think before he grabbed the boy's (man's?) hand.

"It'll be okay," He repeated. "I'm fine."

The water was about knee high now, and the row of crystals at shoulder height were starting to close off. Cody pushed Obi-Wan's hand back just before the crystal could trap it there, and Obi-Wan let out a pained sound, pressing up against the wall. It hurt Cody. Hurt him more that being trapped, than the memories he had at this age, the memories that this water chamber was starting to dredge up.

Watching his brothers take their turns in the tank, none coming out conscious. "It's for your training," the longnecks had said. It felt like torture to Cody. Though, he supposed, maybe that was the point. It's hard for torture to frighten you if you have already experienced worse.

His turn now, he pulled on the breathing mask and stepped into the tank. It started filling up from the tubes in the sides, and the cold water shocked him a little. He watched the blinking, red light outside on the wall, until it counted up to three minutes. As soon as it hit three, he took a deep breath and shoved the mask off his face, and the clock started counting down again. Could he make it?

No. He woke up later in the medbay.

Like he always did.

So Cody suspected, at least.

"It's alright," he said as the water carried him up, up, toward the top of the chamber. It wasn't nearly far enough away.

"I'll be fine," he called as he felt his head press against the ceiling. Too soon.

"I'm okay," he lied, then took a deep breath, right before the water covered his mouth and nose.

The clock ticked down, 2.59, 2.58, 2.57...

He sank back down, keeping his eyes open and on the crying boy leaning on the wall. Cody smiled and pressed his hand against the crystal.

1.46, 1.45, 1.44, 1.43...

Obi-Wan frantically pushed his own hand against Cody's through the wall. His other fist pounded at the crystal, to no avail. Cody's lungs were starting to burn.

1.03, 1.02, 1.01...

Cody's vision got darker, but he kept his gaze on Obi-Wan. Through the water, he looked distorted, but his eyes were unmistakable. Blue, bright with tears, creased with grief. Cody thought that it had been a while since he had seen those eyes smile. He hoped they would again, maybe after the Wars. Long after Cody was gone. He hoped this wouldn't break Obi-Wan beyond repair. His gaze really did go black now, and the clock in his memory blinked just twice more.

0.01, 0.00.

He felt a satisfied smile pull on his lips. He made it.

~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan saw Cody's eyes close, and he cried out. "Cody! Stay with me!"

He couldn't ask that of him. It was selfish and impossible. But Obi-Wan felt so small, so helpless. It was just like when Qui-Gon had died, and he could do nothing. Nothing.

"Not nothing," a voice chided. "You can change it, this time."

A different voice swirled around him. "He must learn."

The first voice pressed in. "This will only break him. You are strong, child. Use it."

The soft voice was right. If he lost Cody right now, he would shatter. There would be no Obi-Wan Kenobi to put together, not like there had been last time. He would never come back. Maybe that was what the Code aimed to prevent when it forbade attachments. He had never been good at staying away from those he loved.

But there was no way to get to Cody.

"The power. It is yours to use, young one. Focus it."

"What power?!" He yelled, sounding like a child, even to his own ears. He was a child, actually. No response. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and placed his hands on the crystal wall, tears slipping down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. And he focused. It was like meditating, but more. He felt it. Power. Flowing through his very being. That was what the voice meant. It felt like an ocean, pushing and pulling at him, flowing through him. He waited, waited....

And pushed.

The crystal around him shattered. Shattered like Obi-Wan, because he surged forward and Cody was in his arms and he was him again, filling out his armor, scar across his temple but he was still and cold. Obi-Wan lowered Cody to the ground, brushing the shards of crystal away with his mind, and cried again. "Cody, Cody please. Wake up." He gulped in a breath of air. "Commander, wake up! That's and order!" And he used the power and he pushed the water out of Cody's lungs, but he still didn't stir. He heart had all but stopped, and he wasn't breathing. Obi-Wan used the power again and gathered the Force around Cody's lungs, breathing for him, in--out--in--out--in--

That's when Obi-Wan noticed the crystal in his hand. He would have dismissed it, thrown it with the rest of the shards of crystal littering the floor around him, if not for the glow.

"It is for him. This was as much his trial as it was yours."

The sense of desperation flooded him again, and he fought back tears. What use would Cody have for the crystal if he was dead? But he pressed it to the commander's chest anyway.

"Cody, don't leave. Please wake up. You have to wake up."

And then it was like Cody had heard him, because he coughed and shivered. Obi-Wan released his grip on the Force, because he didn't need it anymore, because Cody was breathing on his own. He squeezed his eyes shut and the scar on his temple stretched. Obi-Wan sobbed in relief and pressed a kiss to Cody's forehead, because he was alive, and they had passed whatever test they had been given, and they were alive.

And that would do for now. That would be enough until they had to go find help, until they had to get the squad out, until they found someone who could help.

Because Obi-Wan was not going to lose anyone today.

#codywanweek2021 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #there were many external factors that influenced this fic #its far from my best work #but kinda interesting at least

37 notes · View notes

aquietwritingcorner · 3 years

Text

Embers of Revelation

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner Word Count: 12296 Rating: T Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2021 Warnings: Child abuse/neglect Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Black Hayate Pairing: Royai Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Chapter: 2 of 7 Summary: Tasked by Fuhrer Grumman to investigate a suspected alchemic incident, General Mustang’s team finds themselves stranded in Hawkeye’s hometown. Needing a place to stay, they find themselves taking shelter in her childhood home. However, her past can’t stay buried there, and as revelations come to light, they also bring embers of danger with them. Sequel to Embers in a Wounded Heart AO3 || ff.net

________________________________________

Chapter 2

The night didn’t pass too peacefully for Havoc or Breda. Havoc’s legs were giving him quite a bit of trouble and he was restless most of the night. He tried to sleep or hold still, but after a while he gave up, and went downstairs where he could move as much as he needed too. Eventually he fell asleep on the couch. He thought, at one point, that he heard someone else up, but shortly after Hayate joined him, which explained a lot. Eventually the two fell asleep together.

The morning dawned early, but not too bright. He was woken up by the sounds of someone in the kitchen, and groggily drug himself up. He stumbled into the kitchen, wincing as his legs tried to work themselves out. They functioned just fine, but there was still an ache to them. Not to his surprise, both Hawkeye and Fuery were up and in the kitchen, coffee already going. They looked up at his entrance.

“Oh—did we wake you?” Hawkeye asked, looking at him.

Havoc yawned. “Yeah, but don’t worry about it.”

Fuery had gotten up and was busy fetching a cup for Havoc. “Didn’t sleep well, sir?” he asked.

“Yeah… this weather is messing with my legs,” he said. “Makes them ache more and more the longer it goes on.”

Hawkeye frowned. “Do you have anything you take or do for them?”

“Yeah,” Havoc said, “but I try not to take it too much. I don’t like being too compromised.”

“It’s not like we’re doing anything dangerous here,” Fuery said with a smile as he handed Havoc a cup of coffee fixed just the way he liked it. How did Fuery remember little details like that anyway? And why would he bother?

Still, it didn’t stop Havoc from accepting it.

“Yeah, but still. Don’t worry, if it gets to be too much, I’ll take one of those pills.”

Hawkeye was frowning. “Have you ever tried any herbal or folk remedies?” she asked him.

Havoc shook his head. “Nah, I haven’t. to be honest, even if my ma used them, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Hawkeye nodded. “Let me see what I can find and put together. I might be able to give you something that’ll help.”

“You know herbs?” Fuery asked, sounding a little surprised.

Hawkeye nodded. “I learned when I was younger from books, and an older woman in town. They were useful things to know, especially when a doctor wasn’t always an option.” She stood up, heading over to the refrigerator. “I’ll see what I can look into. For now, though, we had better start on breakfast.”

With a nod, Havoc and Fuery both got up, and the three of them started working on the food.

It wasn’t too much later that the others started filing down the stairs, Falman first, then Breda, and finally, Mustang. Like all good military men, they started their approach with a trip to the coffee pot. Once the coffee was fixed, each of them sat at the table, where they slowly woke up and, eventually, started to help with breakfast. It didn’t take long until they were all sitting around the table with a full breakfast laid out in front of them and another pot of coffee ready.

“So,” Breda said as they ate, “What’s the plan for the day?”

Mustang looked out the window, where the rain could still be seen pouring. “Well, there’s not much we can do here about our mission,” he said. “Fuery, did you get the radio working?”

“Not to my satisfaction,” he said. “I mean, it works, yes, but not as good as it could.”

“Can you make it work as well as you want it to?” Mustang asked.

“Maybe, with the right tools and supplies,” he responded.

Mustang and Hawkeye looked at each other, silent communication passing between them again.

“We’ll see what we can find you,” Hawkeye said. “I’m sure there’s something laying around. If there’s nothing in the house, there might be something in the barn.”

“If you can get that repaired, then we’ll use that as our primary means of updates on the weather and the train station.” Mustang said.

“What about calling the station?” Breda asked.

Hawkeye shook her head. “There was never a phone installed here. Father saw no need, and we didn’t have the money for something like that. I didn’t see the need after he died, as I didn’t plan to stay here for long.”

Breda nodded, and Havoc supposed that made sense.

“Havoc, will you take care of the horses?” Mustang asked.

“Sure thing, Boss. Although if anyone else has experience, it might not be a bad thing to have someone else that knows what they’re doing as well.”

“I can help,” Falman said. “I did a few turns taking care of the horses at Briggs.”

“You any good?” Havoc asked.

“The horse master wanted to see about getting me transferred down there,” Falman said.

Havoc raised an eyebrow. “Alright, good enough for me.”

“Okay, so that’s settled. As for the rest of us…” Mustang shook his head. “Well just do as we need to. There’s plenty to read, and always work to do. We’ll figure it out. However,” he said, “when what needs to be taken care of this morning is taken care of, we can dive into the intel that we were given, see what we can learn.”

“We can go head and pool what knowledge we have and get something of a plan in place for when we do get there,” Hawkeye said. “It can’t hurt anyway.”

Breda grunted. “That’s true enough. And it’ll certainly be something more productive then just sitting around reading random books. No offence, Falman.”

“None take, sir.”

“What chores and the like need to be done?” Mustang asked.

Hawkeye considered for a moment. “Well, our uniforms need washing, and the boots demucking. That will take a while. Sir,” she turned to Mustang. “I need you to check for some things for me in the basement.”

He looked at her with a bit of concern in his eyes, obviously willing, but, again, the basement brought up something bad, just like the last time they had been here. Hawkeye obviously wasn’t willing to go down in it still. Havoc couldn’t help but wonder, once again, just what it might be.

“Of course, Captain,” he said. “Just let me know what it is you need.”

“Just to check for some dried herbs and ingredients for me. I’m going to work on something for Havoc’s legs, see if it helps.”

Understanding seemed to bloom in Mustang’s eyes, and he settled down. “Ah, I see.”

“You’re going to what now?” Breda asked.

Hawkeye smiled at him, “Just apply some good country remedies. Hopefully one of them will help. If it helps his legs, it might help your arm as well.”

They had all noticed, but had chosen not to comment on, the way that Breda seemed to be favoring one arm. It was the one with the elbow he had broken, and Havoc knew that it was giving him trouble as well.

Breda still looked a bit surprised. “If it works, I’ll give it a try,” he said. “You I trust. Him,” he pointed to Havoc with his fork, “not so much.”

“Gee, thanks,” Havoc deadpanned. “See who makes sure there’s enough coffee for you next time.”

“Alright, so, I’m going to look for herbs for the captain. And the rest of you?” Mustang said, interrupting the play argument before it could get started.

“I’ll go check on the horses,” Havoc said, “And Falman can come with me.” Falman nodded his agreement.

“I’ll be working on that radio,” Fuery said. “Although it would be good if someone could show me where theses spare parts might be.”

“I can show you here in the house,” Hawkeye said, and Fuery nodded.

“So that just leaves the dishes and the uniforms,” Havoc said, and shot a grin Breda’s way.

Breda pulled a face. “Oh no. I’m not doing all of that alone!”

Luckily for him, Hawkeye came to his rescue. “I’ll help you,” she said. “It’s my house, and besides, I’m sure that Fuery needs some time to decide what he needs.”

Fuery nodded. “Yes, sir, I do,” he said. “So, it’ll be a while yet.”

“I can help you in the meantime,” Hawkeye reassured him, and Breda seemed somewhat mollified.

Breakfast didn’t last much longer after that, and they all finished and then cleaned up their places. Breda and Hawkeye set about putting away any extra food and cleaning the dishes. Anyone, they all knew, could wash dishes, so after Riza gave him a rundown of where things went in the kitchen, she left him to it to start on the uniforms.

Havoc and Falman pulled on their muddy boots from the day before, and their coats, and headed out the backdoor towards the barn, not only with instructions to see to the horses, but to bring back anything useful from the barn or the shed. Havoc was still a little concerned about that shed and the chemicals in it, but he couldn’t deny that Hawkeye seemed to know what she was doing—not after she had somehow miraculously saved the pot that Havoc would have sworn up and down Mustang had ruined. He was highly suspicious that she wanted him to bring back in a number of those.

Well, if the house blew up, at least the rain would put out any fires.

Falman, it turned out, was very good with horses. Something about his demeanor seemed to sooth the animals, and they let him do almost anything. The two men both mucked out the stalls, laid fresh hay, and then fed them. After that, they poked around the barn to see if there was anything useful in it.

“Sir?” Falman said from one of the corners. “What about this cart?”

“Hm?” Havoc walked over to him. “Oh that. Hawkeye said last time that she used to take that to town with her when she knew that she’d need to pick up a lot of materials or supplies. She said that sometimes she tied her goat to it to pull, and sometimes she just pulled it herself.”

“She pulled it herself?” Falman said, sounding a bit incredulous. “All the way to town?”

“That’s what she said.” Havoc repeated.

Falman fell quiet, thinking for a moment. “Sir…” he said carefully. “About the captain. Some of the things she says about living here, or the ways that she acts—”

“I know exactly what you mean, but you need to drop it,” Havoc said sharply. “Even when we were here last time, I learned very little solid facts. I just had snippets and conjecture to go off of. If Hawkeye wants us to know, then she’ll tell us. Other than that, it’s best not to say anything.”

Falman nodded. “Understood, sir,” And, bless him, Havoc believed that he did. Falman was a good man. He understood when to back off and not to push.

They did manage to collect a few things that they thought would do Fuery some good and put them in the spare basket that Hawkeye had given them. After that they stopped by the shed, and Havoc got to watch the wonder and the fear of this shed creep into Falman’s eyes. After all, a lot of these chemicals could be dangerous if they broke down or were too old.

All Havoc could do was shrug and load some up into the basket. “Hawkeye seems to think they’re safe,” he said, and that seemed to be the end of that.

By the time that they got back inside, both Breda and Hawkeye had moved on from cleaning the kitchen. It was clean and ready to go. Remembering Mustang’s warning about a child Hawkeye hitting him with a mop when he tracked dirt in, they headed straight to the washroom to remove their boots and hang up their coats. Riza and Breda were in there, Breda working on cleaning up their boots, Riza working on the clothes.

“Hate to say, but we brought you some more work,” Havoc said as they walked in.

“Oh, good,” Breda said sarcastically. “Riza, not to question you, but our boots are just going to get muddy again. What’s the point of cleaning them?”

“It’ll get the worst of it off,” she said. “And it’ll keep them from getting so mucked up.” She looked at him. “You know the dangers of letting a boot get too wet.”

“Yeah, but that’s for marches, not taking the boots on and off,” he pointed out.

“Still. Better to keep them clean—and you know it, Lieutenant,” she said, although there was a bit of a tease in her voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, pulling a slight face at the work.

“How were the horses?” Riza asked. “And did you find anything?”

“We found several things that Fuery might find useful,” Falman said “and we retrieved a few bottles of chemicals for you, Captain.”

Riza smiled at them. “Thank you.”

“The horses were fine,” Havoc said. “A little ancy because of the weather, but fine overall.” He shifted, his legs just constantly aching in this weather. “I can’t blame them much for that, to be honest.”

“Hopefully this rain will let up soon,” Hawkeye said. “And then we can all leave.”

“We were lucky that you had this house we could stay in, though,” Falman said.

“Yes, I suppose so,” she murmured.

“We’ll leave the chemicals on the kitchen table, yeah?” Havoc said, “And then take these parts to Fuery.”

“Alright,” Hawkeye said. “I’ll tend to them later.”

Havoc gave her a wave, and he and Falman exited the small room, leaving Hawkeye and Breda working. It didn’t take long to unload the chemicals on the table.

“What’s the captain going to do with these?” Falman asked as they put them on the table.

“I don’t know,” Havoc said, “but the last time we were here Mustang ruined a pot trying to cook something. I thought for sure that the pot was done for. But Hawkeye brought in some of the chemicals, did something to the pot for a few days, and then somehow, amazingly, she managed to clean off whatever it was that the general had done.”

Falman didn’t look terribly impressed, but Havoc pushed his point. “I’m not kidding, Falman. It was black and burned and there was smoke coming out of it. I don’t know what he managed to burn that bad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pot or anything burned quite that badly. Trust me, you don’t want to let him cook.”

“The general is an accomplished alchemist,” Falman said. “Surely he can do something like simple cooking.”

“You’d think he could,” Havoc said. “But trust me, he can’t.”

Falman seemed to take his words into consideration but didn’t comment more on them. Instead, they finished unloading the chemicals and took the pieces to Fuery, who had the big radio pulled out and the back of it off.

“How’s it looking?” Havoc asked.

“Not unfixable, but it’s not going to be easy, especially without some of the proper parts. But I think I can make do. General’s volunteered to make some of the parts I need, if he can.”

“Well, that’s handy,” Havoc said.

“Yeah, I’ve got him looking though one of the technical manuals I brought with me so that he’ll have an idea of what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, giving the General orders now,” Havoc teased.

Fuery looked up from his work and grinned. “Well, when he asks what he can do…”

Havoc laughed. “I get that. Alright, keep working—maybe we’ll get more than scratchy ballroom music at some point.”

“Here’s hoping, sir!”

There wasn’t too much more to do after that, except clean up a little more. Falman went off to read, and Havoc, needing something to do, decided that he might as well go ahead and start working on lunch for everyone. True, it hadn’t been terribly long since breakfast, but it did take a while to prep things for six people plus one dog. He moved some of Hawkeye’s chemicals from the counter back to the table—who had moved those? —and got to work preparing the vegetables for what he hoped was going to be a good meal.

The finishing of chores and the smell of cooking food eventually brought everyone out from their jobs. Hawkeye and Breda had finally finished the uniforms, which were now drying in the washroom, and Fuery took a break from the radio, with Hawkeye promising to show him around the house a bit more to see if there was anything else he could use. Mustang complained about the technical manuals, and Hawkeye teased him about not complaining about paperwork any longer. They all enjoyed lunch together, and, after it, Breda took care of cleaning up the washroom while Mustang went to look around the basement. Hawkeye showed Fuery the attic and Falman went outside to make some observations. Havoc took care of the kitchen. By the time the afternoon rolled around, everyone was either finished with their chores or ready to take a break. They all moved into the living room where there was more space and the warmth from the fireplace. Fuery still had his radio to tinker with as well, which kept the younger man quite happy.

“Alright, before we start, status update. Fuery, the radio,” Mustang said.

“I’m working on her sir. She’s an older model and I don’t have access to parts, but I think with your help and some of the things I’ve found around here I should be able to get her working well by this afternoon. Of course, she’d work better with an antenna, but we don’t have one and it would be dangerous to put one up in this weather.”

Mustang frowned but seemed to put a pin in that idea. “Keep working, Fuery. I’m sure you’ll get it.” He turned his attention to Falman. “Weather report, Falman?”

“Yes, sir,” Falman said. “I went out and made some observations. Without the proper tools I couldn’t be sure of several things, but there is a still a wind coming out of the west and the clouds appear to be low-hanging cumulus and still saturated with rain. It’s still as unusual as it was back in Central, sir, and it doesn’t show any signs of letting up. However, they do appear to be mostly rain clouds and not necessarily storm clouds, which does make a difference.”

“Right,” Mustang said. “Havoc? The horses.”

“They’re doing fine, sir,” Havoc drawled. “A little ancy, but that’s to be expected in weather like this. We’ve got enough supplies to keep them for a couple of more days, but then we’d probably want to see about taking them and the wagon back. When we do, I suggest we take that small cart with us, and we can load it up with anything we need and pull it back.”

Mustang nodded. “Hawkeye? The house?”

“Seems mostly as we left it,” she said.

“Mostly?” he interrupted.

“Yes,” she said. “I do hire someone to come in, check on things, and make sure there’s basic upkeep, so anything that seems a bit out of place is probably due to him.”

“I wondered why this place was in so good of shape, considering no on lived here,” Havoc said.

“Yes, well, I had thought about just abandoning it to its fate, but… well, it’s always good to have a backup,” she said.

“It worked out well for us, at least,” Breda said.

“But the house and all seem fine to you,” Mustang pushed.

“Yes,” she said. “Everything seems to be in order.”

“Good.” Mustang nodded at Breda, a bit of a smirk touching his lips. “And the state of the laundry?”

Havoc heard Breda mumble something under his breath, but he couldn’t catch what it was. “It’s fine, sir. Clean and drying out. Hopefully we won’t get that muddy again anytime soon.”

“Maybe,” was all Mustang said in response to that, and moved on. “Alright, you all have your files, correct?” Five heads nodded at him, and one tail wagged. “Good. Let’s go over what we know.” He flipped open his file.

“This is yet another society formed after the Promised Day. It’s very secretive and very hard to find. If it was just about being secret, we wouldn’t have had any problems with it. However, there have recently been attacks that have been traced back to what the local authorities are calling the Spark. Apparently, people in the area haven’t been overly happy with the government, and this group is trying to spark some sort of conflict or knowledge to life.”

He flipped the page. “There’s several photographs of areas that they’ve attacked or been spotted at,” he said, taking the photos out and passing them around. “Unfortunately, the perpetrators themselves are never caught at the area.”

“How do we know that these are all the same group?” Breda asked. “It could be several different groups of people that the local authorities are blaming on one group.”

“That’s true,” Mustang said. “However, there is other evidence that links to this group. Unfortunately, it’s circumstantial at best, supposition at worst.”

“If it’s that unclear, then how come we’re being sent on this mission?” Havoc asked.

“We’re being sent because it’s unclear,” Mustang said, “And because of our expertise in dealing with alchemists.”

“There’s alchemy involved?” Havoc asked.

Mustang nodded. “One of the signs that has been seen at every crime scene are signs of alchemy. It’s a very good, very specific kind of alchemy. It’s almost impossible to spot if you’re not directly looking for it and covers its tracks very well.”

He pulled more papers out of the folder and passed them around. “This is Herman Stitue. He was an alchemist that specialized in Alchemy that was difficult to see, mostly for the restoration of objects, buildings, and other places like that. Fifteen months ago, he disappeared, and all of his research was stolen. Seven months ago, his body was found. Six months ago, these alchemic incidents that were covered up started happening. It’s suspected that he was kidnapped along with his research and made to train this group.”

Hawkeye seemed to tense up a bit at that, and Havoc wondered why. Sure, part of it, he knew, probably had to do with the General’s flame alchemy. It was a very secretive, very specialized form of alchemy itself. But this seemed to be a bit more than that. Maybe she was worried about Mustang getting taken on this mission too?

“In fact, when the disappearances of other alchemists were looked into, similar circumstances began to emerge. Investigations has been tracking this one for a while, as it seems that it’s mostly been alchemists with very unique or secretive forms of alchemy that have disappeared. This is the first real lead that has been discovered, and the Fuhrer decided it was best to send us on this mission.”

No one seemed willing to address the elephant in the room, so Havoc, as usual, bit the bullet and did it himself.

“Begging your pardon, General, but doesn’t it seem a bit risky sending you in? After all, Flame Alchemy isn’t exactly well known, and you yourself have the hands-free alchemy going on now. Seems like you’d be a prime target.”

“I know,” Mustang said, and glanced at Hawkeye, who seemed to be sitting very straight, clearly not happy with this turn of events, but also clearly having foreknowledge of it. “But that’s part of the point. It’s hopeful that my presence will draw them out and that we’ll be able to find and apprehend them more directly.”

He closed the folder. “It’ll be dangerous, but if we can ever get there, it’ll be worth it.”

“Yeah, well, first we have to get there,” Breda said. He looked out the front window, which someone had opened the curtains to, for whatever reason. “But that’s not going to happen any time soon, it looks like.”

“Alright. Then the question becomes, what do we do in the meantime?” Mustang asked.

“Not get wet,” Breda suggested, and Havoc rolled his eyes.

“We have enough supplies to stay here for a few days,” Riza said. “We can stay longer if I go hunting.”

“If we go hunting,” Havoc said. “I’m pretty good too.”

Riza conceded that with a nod. “You know how to dress a kill too, don’t you?”

“Of course. You got a place to do it? It won’t be good to do it in the barn with the horses.”

“No, that won’t work. It’ll make them too skittish. I used to just do it in the backyard, but with all this mud that won’t work.”

“I’d say your shed, but there’s too many chemicals in there to make me comfortable.”

“Mm, true, and it’s not very big.”

“What about the chicken coop? If Mustang can fix it up like he did that gazebo.”

“That might work.”

“Alright then! What kinds of things can we hunt around here?”

“Well, I’ve let the land grow wild, so probably a decent verity. Squirrels, rabbits, things like that obviously, but there should be some deer too.”

“That sounds good. Hey—ever get any waterfowl on that pond?”

“Okay—” Mustang interrupted them. “So, Hawkeye and Havoc are going to go hunting. What else?”

“Well, sir, if someone else doesn’t mind getting a bit dirty, there’s always the orchard and whatever is growing out there, and the old garden plot. Could be some vegetables still growing wild.” Hawkeye said. “I don’t mind taking care of it all, but that is something that someone else can do.”

“I can do it,” Falman volunteered. “I’ve been reading over some of the herbology books as well and I think that I might be able to identify other useful plants. I’ll be out anyway making my observations on the weather, so if I do it, no one else has to worry about being out in the rain.”

Mustang nodded. “Good.”

“I’ll keep working on the radio,” Fuery said. “And, when I’m finished, if there’s anything else that needs repairs or fixing, I can always take a look at that. Otherwise, just point me where I’m needed, sir.”

Mustang nodded. “We’ll probably take you up on that, Fuery.”

“I’ll help out with whatever needs to be helped out with around here,” Breda said, “but I’m also going to be working on these files. I want to be as prepared as possible for it, when we actually go.”

“Good,” Mustang said. “I’ll work on it too. We can discuss it. But I’ll also be on standby for any help that might be needed. If we can make it easier with my alchemy, then I’m more than happy to help.”

Hayate stood up and barked from where he was next to Hawkeye, his tail wagging.

“Ah, yes, good, Second Lieutenant Hayate,” Mustang said. “You’ll take guard duty. Excellent.”

“At least the pooch is being useful,” Breda muttered. He had a truce with the dog, but it was obvious to anyone that he was still not overly comfortable with him.

“For downtime, you’re welcome to make use of the library,” Hawkeye offered. “Or explore the grounds, if you want. Just please stay out of the study and unoccupied bedroom on the second floor, and the basement.”

That was at least twice she had mentioned for them to stay away from the basement and Havoc couldn’t help but wonder why. There hadn’t been anything special about it that he had seen when he was down there, except that it looked more like a lab then a basement, including a large table with a bright light over it. Maybe it was some alchemy thing, like telling them to stay out of her father’s study. He didn’t know, but Havoc had to admit that he was curious.

The rest of the day went fairly peacefully. Havoc and Hawkeye talked hunting strategies, and the best places to find things. Fuery worked on the radio, getting Mustang to help him make some parts. Dinner time rolled around, and they paused to eat, and then with some unspoken agreement, sat down their work after that and retired to the living room.

Havoc was glad to see that someone had closed the living room curtains, although he hadn’t recalled anyone doing it, cutting off the sight of the pouring rain and adding a layer between the window and ever-present chill the rain seemed to bring.

Fuery kept working on the radio, almost finished with it, and Havoc laid in the floor, stretching out his legs. Falman was in a chair, absorbed in a book, and Mustang and Hawkeye were on the couch, seemingly reading the same book, although Havoc was sure it was just an excuse to be close. Although, looking at them sitting there, a blanket pulled over their laps as they looked at a book, Havoc couldn’t help but wonder if he was looking at a picture of a younger Roy and Riza, sitting on the couch, reading, as children.

“Hey,” Breda had gotten up and come over to him. “Com’on.”

Havoc knew what Breda was talking about, and he laid on his back, lifting his legs up in the air. Breda pressed down on them, and they ran through some of the exercises that Havoc had gone through in Physical Therapy. While he no longer actually needed the exercises for his legs, as he had built up all of his former strength, it was still good to go through them. They felt good to his legs and sometimes they helped him sleep better as well. Breda knew the exercises well, as he had been with Havoc for a lot of his recovery, egging and pushing him on.

They were partway through this, when Fuery suddenly let out a satisfied noise, and all attention turned towards him.

“I think she’s fixed!” he said, and went to the front, fiddling with the nobs. He turned her on, and they all waited to see what the radio would bring. To everyone’s happy surprise, and Fuery’s eternal satisfaction, the radio seemed to find a station in all of the rain and began to play it.

“—was ‘The Xingese Sandman’ sung by Anette Hanshaw. And now we bring you an hour of your favorite instrumentals to dance along to. Find your girl, fellas, and hold her tight as you dance the night away with these favorites!”

“Hey, good job, Fuery!” Havoc said.

“See if you can find some news on somewhere,” Mustang instructed. “Or some sort of weather update.”

“Yes, sir,” Fuery said, turning the dial.

He switched through various channels, trying to find something, and Havoc couldn’t help but notice the way that Hawkeye and Mustang would give each other looks when they landed on the music stations. These two were just getting worse and worse at hiding this, weren’t they?

Ah well. It wasn’t like anyone here was going to rat them out. And maybe, just maybe, Grumman could do something about it. Havoc had seen the way he eyed the two of them. He wanted them to get together just as much as anyone else did.

Finally, Fuery landed on a station, and they listened as the news played out. There were, apparently, torrential rains over most of the country. Up north it had turned to freezing rain, and there were reports that even Drachma was having to shut down several things on account of it. There was widespread flooding, and stranded passengers from washed out tracks and roads. The military was as mobilized as it could be, but with the problems in transportation, there was only so much that could be done. Most places were simply working with what they had.

Mustang looked a bit grim as the news went off. “That doesn’t sound too good,” he said.

“It sounds like we’re going to be stuck here a while,” Breda said. “Means our chance might slip away.”

“Or they might be as bogged down as we are.” Mautang looked over at Havoc and Falman. “When were you planning on taking the horses and the cart back?” he asked.

“In about two more days,” Havoc said. “Why?”

“Well, I left word for Grumman about where we were and what happened, but it would probably be a good idea to check in. I might go with you,” he said.

“It’s too bad we don’t have a phone here,” Havoc said. “Then you wouldn’t have to leave.”

“Um, well, if someone in town is selling one, I could hook it up,” Fuery said. Eyes immediately swiveled to him. “It wouldn’t be too hard. I’d just need the phone itself and some cable. There’s already electricity in place, so there’s poles to run the phone wires on. And I think there was a place we passed that had a phone line, so it would really only be running it from there. It’s nothing I’ve not done before.”

Mustang frowned. “But in this weather?” he asked.

“Well, it’s not thundering and lightening, so it’s just the rain and wind I’d have to watch out for, which isn’t as dangerous.” Fuery said.

Mustang looked at Hawkeye, who nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “When we go into town, you come too and see if you can find what you need.”

“Can do, sir!” he said.

Havoc, meanwhile, had gone back to his stretches, grimacing a bit, and Hawkeye had taken note.

“Are your legs still hurting you?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll probably be up again tonight.”

She looked at Breda. “And your elbow.”

“Yeah,” he said, removing his hand from it as she spoke, like a little kid caught by a parent.

She frowned. “Sir,” she said, turning to look at Mustang. “Did you get those herbs I asked for?”

“I did,” he said. “They’re in the dining room.”

“Good,” she said, and got up, leaving the men behind. She came back a few minutes later with a pestle and mortar, and several different kinds of herbs and flowers and dried things that Havoc would have probably chalked up as “weeds.”

Falman was looking at it, intrigued. “What are you doing, Captain?” he asked.

“Well,” she said. “It’s a poultice I used to make as a girl, when my own limbs would ache. It’s not perfect and it’s not as strong as a lot of medicines, but it does well in that gap between “nothing” and “medicine that leaves me compromised.” Her hands were deftly working, almost as if they were moving on their own accord. She clearly knew what she was doing.

Havoc watched her and he and Breda continued to exercise and Fuery put the back on the radio again. Falman had moved next to her, and she was explaining what she was doing in very detailed language that Havoc honestly didn’t understand or could hope to understand. All he knew was that she was grinding things up in that little bowl and then adding things to it, making a poultice that would, hopefully, help him.

“Where’d you learn to do all of these things, Captain?” Fuery asked, and Havoc could see Mustang tense at the question.

“Oh, here and there,” she said. “From books, and from a few of the older ladies in town,” She paused, did something, and then went back to work. “Doctor’s visits were expensive, especially for minor things that could heal on their own, so I learned to take care of as much as I could myself. I’m hoping that this will help. As I said, I used it myself when my own limbs would ache.”

“Growing pains?” Fuery asked, but he sounded fairly confident in his answer.

“No,” Riza said, surprising them all. “I would typically use them after a hard day of cleaning, or cutting wood when I was a little bit older, or any other manner of physical stress, but it was also effective after father’s discipline.”

She said it like it was nothing, but Havoc couldn’t help but notice the tightening of Mustang’s lips, or the way the other men seemed to pause.

“…you mean like after that thrashing you said your dad gave you when you broke that dish?” Havoc asked, wondering if he could get a little more information.

Hawkeye let out a snort. “I wish I had this then. But I was five. I didn’t know about it yet. Besides, I understand why he was so upset.”

That didn’t make Havoc any more comfortable, but it was clear from Mustang’s look that Havoc—and the rest of them—weren’t to pursue. Instead, he changed the subject. “That’s the same stuff you gave me after that fight with Henry Thompson, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she confirmed. “And it helped, didn’t it?”

“It did,” he said. “It really did. I definitely was hurting then.”

“I’d say that it should have taught you not to pick a fight with someone bigger than you, or a larger group, but it didn’t do any good for that.”

“Hey—I couldn’t let them just push you around like that!”

“I’d have been fine. They pushed me around before and I always came out of it okay.”

“It wasn’t right.”

“Neither was you getting your face bashed in. You’re just lucky I got help and found that slingshot.”

Mustang laughed. “You took us all by surprise with those marbles and that slingshot.”

She looked up at him, amusement on her face. “Well, someone had to do something effective,” she teased. “You certainly weren’t.”

Before he could say anything more, Hawkeye got up, taking the bowl with her. “I need to add some water to this. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She got up and left and the men watched her leave the room before eyes slid back towards Mustang.

“It’s the captain’s private life, and I’ll let her decide what to tell you and what not to,” he said.

The men exchanged looks but didn’t say anything else.

Soon after Hawkeye walked back into the room with the bowl, it being full of something that smelled good and seemed, well, goopy.

“Here,” she said, handing it to Havoc. “Try this tonight after your shower. It should help, I hope. I’ve never tried it on something like this, specifically, but it’s worked on other aches and pains before. It’s worth a shot.” She looked at Breda. “I made enough for you to have some too, Breda,” she said. “It should work on your elbow as well.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking a little surprised. “I’ll try it out.”

“If it doesn’t work, let me know. I might can find something different. It just might take a little trial and error.”

Havoc was sniffing at it. “Huh. Maybe you should have become the local witch woman instead, Riza,” he teased.

“You hush,” she said. “There’s nothing magical about it. It’s just a knowledge of herbs and other plants.”

He just grinned at her.

It wasn’t long after that they all began retiring to bed. The showers had to be taken in stages, although Mustang was good at reheating the water for them. Havoc opted to go last, and so stayed downstairs for a bit longer, leafing through a book he had found. Hayate was down there with him, seemingly taking his guard duties seriously, padding in front of the doors and sniffing around, although he seemed to like sniffing around that basement door the most. It was almost enough to make Havoc want to open it and go back down there.

“Yo, Hav, your turn!”

Breda’s voice traveled back down the stairs, and Havoc turned from his musings. “Yeah, coming,” he said. He left his wanderings downstairs with his book and headed up the stairs to take his shower. It didn’t take him long to shower, and soon he was in the room with the stuff that Hawkeye had made for him. He looked at it, until Breda griped at him.

“Just try it already,” he said. “I’ve already put some on my elbow and it seems to help. It’s worth a shot.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Havoc replied. He scooped a bit out of the bowl it was in and started rubbing it on his legs and lower back. It soaked in like a lotion or oil would and he found it did start to help after a few minutes. “Wow,” he said blinking at the poultice. “Alright.”

“Yeah,” Breda said. “Whodathunk that Hawkeye would be a freaking herb lady.”

“Yeah,” Havoc said, and frowned a bit.

“Hey,” Breda waited until Havoc was looking at him. “What did you mean by that question you asked Hawkeye earlier? About a thrashing.”

Havoc frowned. “When we were here last time, I asked her about a broken dish. She said that she had tried to look at it as a child and broke it, and that her father gave her, her ‘first thrashing’.”

Breda frowned. “First thrashing?” he said.

“That’s what she said,” Havoc said. “She never really explained it more than that, and I didn’t think it best to push. Besides…” he frowned more. “She didn’t seem to think that it was a big deal, either, which… I’ll be honest, concerned me.”

Breda frowned, clearly starting to piece some things together. “Hav… what was she like the last time you were here?”

Havoc was silent for a moment. “…not good. She wasn’t doing well here. This place seemed to hold a lot of bad memories for her,” he said honestly.

“Anything in particular?” Breda asked.

Havoc’s brow furrowed. “Only one particular thing stood out to me. She wouldn’t go in the basement.”

Breda’s frown deepened. “She didn’t want to go down to it earlier, either,” Breda said. “Asked Mustang to go down there for her.”

“Yeah,” Havoc said. “When we were searching, she refused to go down into the basement. Mustang and I went down there, but she didn’t.”

He wasn’t going to mention how she had turned pale at it and then disappeared, having a breakdown on the roof of the house. It seemed like a private moment, and not something that she would want to spread to her men. She trusted them a lot, but Hawkeye had her pride.

Breda grunted, thinking, and then sighed. “Well. It’s not our business, unless it becomes our business. We might as well see if we can get any sleep tonight.”

“Yeah,” Havoc said, pulling back the blankets. “Night, Breda.”

Breda grunted, and nothing more was said.

Havoc slept better that night, although he still woke early with his legs still hurting him. The longer the rain went on, the worse it seemed to get. Still, he pushed on. Morning went as mornings did, with him, Hawkeye, and Fuery the first ones up. They worked on breakfast, and everyone stumbled down the stairs and to the coffeepot before they all settled in for breakfast. Riza worked on the kitchen while Havoc and Falman went out and tended to the horses. Then, rain gear on, Havoc and Riza went out to get the lay of the land. Getting lucky they managed to kill a few things for their hunt, and set a few traps, but they mostly found good places where they could probably bag a few deer.

They spent at least half the day out there, looking over places and tracks. There were a few human tracks that Havoc spotted, but Hawkeye reassured him that she allowed hunting on her land, since it was one of the few areas where the woods were allowed to grow wild. It was probably another hunter thinking about the fact that there wasn’t going to be much food coming via the trains or the roads anytime soon. Havoc couldn’t blame them for that.

They returned to the house muddy, but with a plan for the next day, and stripped out of their muddy clothes in the washroom before heading up for showers. Havoc let Hawkeye go first, taking care of their boots while she was showering, and then taking his turn.

Not long after that was lunch, and then they all started going over the information that Breda and Mustang had laid out. They put together a few more theories and ideas on what could be going on, but there was truthfully not much more they could do.

The next couple of days were much of the same. Hawkeye and Havoc got up early the next day, went hunting, and came back with a couple of dear which they spent the rest of the day preparing. Falman found and harvested some food from the orchard trees and from the remains of the old vegetable garden while making his observations. Fuery worked on things around the house, improving them or just outright fixing them. Mustang and Breda helped out where they could—except no one allowed Mustang in the kitchen after another near disaster that was only averted because of Breda’s quick thinking.

Although the days passed with a slow pace, all of them felt the urgency that was needed for their travel to continue. Finally, the horses were out of hay, and it was decided that the next day they would need to go back into town. Havoc was set to drive the wagon, as he was the most experienced out of them all, and the roads were still nothing but muck. Unfortunately, when Havoc woke up that morning, he was in a great deal of pain. His legs were aching more than normal and he winced as he sat up, relying more on his arms then anything else.

“Hey—Hav, you alright?” Breda asked him. The movement must have woken him.

“…. There’s… a lot of pain this morning,” Havoc said as he attempted to stand with some stability.

Thunder crashed overhead, and Breda looked up. “I wonder if that’s why,” he said. Concern creased his forehead “Hey—you lay back down, alright? You look like you could use it.”

Havoc wasn’t one to typically give in, but today the pain was pretty severe, and he laid back down in the bed with a grimace. “Yeah,” he said a bit breathlessly. “Yeah, I think I will.”

“Guess you won’t be making it to town today, huh?” Breda said.

“Nah, I’m afraid not. Probably best for me to take one of those pain pills and just not do much today. Sorry.”

Breda shook his head. “You can’t help it. I’ll let the others know.”

“Yeah… I’ll try to make it down in a bit.”

“Okay.”

Breda dressed then, and left, heading down the stairs. Havoc could hear the movement and the voices of the others as they woke and moved around, getting their day started. He grimaced. He felt useless, but there really wasn’t much that he could do about it. When he was in this much pain, there wasn’t much he could do at all, except sleep it off.

He let himself doze, at least until he heard some footsteps, and a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” he said, automatically starting to push up, and then aborting that when pain flared through his lower back.

Hawkeye appeared at the door, a tray for eating in bed in her hands. Havoc suddenly remembered that she had cared for her father near the end of his life, and he wondered if maybe she had used trays like that when he needed to eat.

“Heard that you’re feeling pretty bad today.” Thunder rumbled again, and she grimaced. “Think it’s the change in the weather?”

Havoc shrugged, and pulled himself to more of a sitting position, bracing himself through the pain. “Not sure. I wouldn’t be surprised, but all I know is that I’m in a lot of pain today.”

“Well, hopefully you can eat a little,” she said. “I brought you some breakfast.”

“You’re the best, Ri,” he said, shooting her a grin. He waited until she approached and noted the way that she settled the tray on his lap like a pro, and then set about making sure that things were in easy reach for him, almost without even thinking about it. “So, what’s the plan for the day?”

“The others are still going to go to town. Falman thinks he can drive the wagon, and if not, then between the four of them, they should be able to figure it out,” she said. “The General wants to call Headquarters and check in, Fuery wants to see about getting a phone set up, Falman thinks he’ll be able to take care of the wagon and the horses, and Breda has to ‘get out of this house’ or he’s ‘going to go stir crazy’,” she said with a grin.

Havoc laughed, but then gave her a sympathetic look. “Hey, Riza, if you want to go—” He felt a little bad about making her stay behind, and so he couldn’t help but make the offer.

But she shook her head. “No, I’m going to stay right here,” she said. “I had enough of the rain and muck when we were hunting. Besides—It’ll be easier to get some of the cleaning down without you men tromping around everywhere,” she teased.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “You just want some peace and quiet to yourself.” He teased her right back.

She laughed. “Maybe so. But even with that, if you need anything, just call.”

He shook his head. “Honestly? I’m going to take one of those strong pills and probably try to sleep this off. Although if someone could snag me a book or two that would be great.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Riza said with a smile. “I’ll be back in a bit to get that. You just rest up.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Thanks, Riza.”

She just smiled at him, and then left the room.

Havoc started eating, listening to the sounds going on down below him. He wished he was down there with them, but his legs ached like mad when he moved them, much less tried to get up. Riza came back for the tray, and Breda came back up later to finish dressing. He brought Havoc a stack of books and promised to look for something more his speed in town. Havoc pulled a face at him, but thanked him nonetheless, and got Breda to help him up and to the bathroom once before he left. Once he was settled back in bed, he took one of those little pills, and then listened as he heard the others leave. The pill did it’s work and, as he fell asleep, the last things he heard were the sounds of Hawkeye turning on the radio and getting to work downstairs.

The pills always sacked him out hard for a few hours, so Havoc wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he heard the noise of the others coming back in. They were being noisy, and something about it had Havoc trying to shake himself out of his drug-induced fog. He blinked, trying to focus and wake up. They seemed to be… calling for someone?... Riza? They were calling for Hawkeye? That didn’t make sense. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and then making their way around the rooms. That was confusing as well, and he tried to make sense of it, at least until Breda opened the door.

“Hey—you seen Hawkeye?” he asked.

Havoc shook his head. “Naw. I was asleep until just now.”

“Hm,” Breda said.

Havoc was waking up more now. “Why?” he asked.

“She’s not down there. Could she be out hunting or something?” Breda asked.

Havoc forced the sleep away as best he could, and sat up fully, ignoring the pain he felt. “She shouldn’t be,” he said. “Mornings or evening are best, and we’ve got plenty. I don’t even think she’d be checking the traps right now.”

Breda’s frown increased. “Alright. I’m going back downstairs. Something’s not right here.”

“Wait—” Havoc said. He pushed the blankets back and swung his legs out of bed, wincing. “I’m coming too.”

“You sure?” Breda asked, looking a bit concerned.

“Yeah—the pain’s not as bad right now, not with the medicine on board.” Havoc said.

“Alright,” Breda said, but he waited on Havoc to get up and pull on some pants before they both made their way down the stairs together.

Downstairs was not in good shape. Mustang looked grim and didn’t waste any words.

“Her boots and coat are still here,” he said, “and she’s not in any of the outbuildings. There’s no signs of foul play, but that doesn’t mean that there wasn’t any.”

“She’s not upstairs,” Breda said. “I checked all the rooms.”

A dusty Fuery came out from the kitchen. “She’s not in the attic either,” he said. “And no signs of any windows being opened.”

“Hey—where’s Hayate?” Havoc asked, suddenly realizing that the little dog was missing too.

“Maybe outside?” Fuery asked.

“If you’re asking about Hawkeye, she’s not there either,” Falman said, coming in the front door, dripping wet, his back to them as he closed it.

“What about Hayate?” Mustang asked.

Falman turned around. Nestled in his arms was a hopefully asleep Hayate, soaking wet and muddy.

“I found him outside, locked in the chicken coop,” he said. “He seemed to have been drugged.”

“Drugged?” Mustang said. The ramifications of that hit all of them. Hawkeye certainly wasn’t drugging Hayate and putting him outside. That meant that someone else had to have. That also meant that someone could have taken Hawkeye.

But there were no signs of foul play, and she most certainly would have put up a fight.

“…There is one place it doesn’t sound like you’ve checked,” Havoc said, and looked over towards the door that led to the basement.

Mustang paled immediately and turned on his heel to head straight for it. The others followed suit, Falman carefully hurrying to put Hayate down in front of the fireplace before joining them.

Mustang was already at the door, reaching to unlock it. The fact that was locked from the outside might have normally been reassuring, as it would have been impossible for the lock to be locked from the outside if someone was inside but considering that it was clear someone had been in the house, it wasn’t a reassurance anymore.

Mustang threw open the lock and pulled on the door, but the door didn’t budge. He tried again, but it didn’t move. He cursed, throwing the lock back into place, and then clapping and laying his hands on the door. A circle of it fell out, part of the door and part of the door frame, large enough to house the entire locking mechanism. Mustang didn’t even look at it. Instead, he threw the door open and raced down the stairs. The rest of them weren’t far behind him.

The basement was much as they had left it, with the same items around it. The only difference Havoc could see now was that the light over the table was on, and Mustang was trying to talk to Hawkeye, who was crouched in a corner.

No. Wait. She wasn’t crouched. She was curled into it, eyes blown wide, clearly terrified. Havoc glanced at Breda. Neither of them knew what was going on.

“Riza?” Mustang called out to her. “Riza?” he reached for her, and she flinched back.

“N-no!” she said, and there was thick fear coating her voice. “No, no, please! Not again! Not yet!”

“Riza—Riza please, it’s me, it’s Roy.”

“No, no, please, no, don’t, not again, not yet—”

She was pleading with him, begging for something—for something to stop, to not happen again, or to be delayed, and Havoc felt his stomach turn.

“Riza…” Mustang reached a hand towards her, and she closed her eyes and turned away from it, huddling into the wall as much as she could, letting out a sob. Her hands immediately came up to her mouth as if she had said or done something wrong, and she trembled.

“Riza, please! It’s Roy! Come on—” Mustang sounded desperate, and he reached out and touched her. She startled, terror flooding her eyes and suddenly she was moving, scrambling back, finding another place to hide under a desk that was down there. Sobs poured out from under it.

“No, no, Father, please no!” She was out right crying. “It hurts—please Father not again! Let me heal first! Please!”

“Roy—what’s going on here?” Breda asked, moving a step forward. “What’s she talking about?”

“Later,” he said. He glanced back at them. “I’m not putting you off—but we need to get her out of here first.” He turned to look fully at them. “Please.”

It wasn’t the commands of a superior officer. It wasn’t even the words of a leader. It was, instead, the plea of a friend.

“She doesn’t look like she wants to come out of there,” Falman said.

Mustang’s face was distressed. “I know—we’ve got to get her out there. Breda.”

“Yeah.” Breda’s voice was serious, and he moved next to Mustang. With a look at each other, they reached down and grabbed her arms, pulling her out.

Riza screamed as they did, thrashing in their grip. “NO! No Father, please no!” She twisted in their grip, and Havoc couldn’t help but notice that her gaze was fixated on the table that was down there. “Please, please, please, the drink doesn’t work anymore, it hurts, please don’t, don’t use the ropes again, please father no, don’t please!”

She was clearly caught in the full-on throws of a flashback, with no idea what was going on around her anymore. She was in a panic, not seeing anything around her, not fighting so much as reacting, and begging through tears for her father not to do something to her—all of which was… disturbing wasn’t even a strong enough word in Havoc’s opinion. It made him feel sick.

“The stairs,” Mustang said over her cries, and he and Breda hauled her over to them and up, Hawkeye still begging and pleading the whole time.

Fuery followed after them, and after a moment, Falman did too. Havoc brought up the rear, but he couldn’t help but look back at that table. The last time he was down here he had assumed that it was just a table, maybe for doing experiments on. But Hawkeye’s words, her begging, the talking of ropes, and those odd-looking metal loops in the table brought new possibilities to mind. Images of a young Hawkeye being strapped down to that table, tied down on it by her father while he… what? What did he do to her? His mind rebelled against imaginong any further, although dark thoughts of what it could be circled in his head, unacknowledged.

Whatever her father did, though, was traumatizing, and Havoc could feel dread living in his stomach from this. It was clear that Hawkeye had been through something awful at the hands of her father, and that it was more than a one-time event. With a last look at the table, he climbed the stairs, hoping that the situation would be improved when he got up there.

The situation was little improved. Hawkeye was still clearly upset, her cries still going on. She had been taken to the couch, where someone had put a blanket around her. She huddled in it like she was hiding, keeping it pulled closely around her, her back pressed into the couch. Mustang was kneeling in front of her, talking to her. Getting her out of the basement seemed to have done something, though, because she didn’t seem to think that anyone in the room was her father anymore.

Instead, she was upset about Mustang.

“R-Roy?” she said, and he reached out, gently putting his hands on her face.

“Yes, Riza, I’m here. I’m here, Riza.”

She was trembling, and her face crumpled, tears falling. “Roy…”

He smiled at her. “Yes—Yes, I’m here, Riza.”

“You—you came back.”

Havoc watched as understanding and disappointment flickered across Mustang’s face as her words made it clear to all of them that she wasn’t back with them yet, but that she was still caught in the past.

“Yeah. I came back,” he said, apparently deciding that it would be better to play along with this for the moment.

She closed her eyes and let out a sob, leaning into his hand. Suddenly, her eyes flew open, and her hands darted up to grab his wrists. “You—you have to leave! You have to leave! Father doesn’t approve of the military! He’ll kill you! He’ll—” She sounded so certain, so desperate, and Havoc exchanged looks with Breda.

Mustang shook his head. “No. No, I’m not leaving you.” His voice was firm, but there was something that Havoc thought sounded like regret in it.

“But father—” she started.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Mustang said.

Her gaze crumped again. “He’ll never stop looking for me, Roy—you don’t understand! He won’t give up! Not after what he’s done to me!”

“No!” Mustang snapped out the word with fierceness. “No, I promise you, Riza! He can never hurt you again! Never! I’ve made sure of it, and I’ll protect you! I swear it!” He moved quickly, wrapping her up in a fierce hug, holding her tightly as they sat there on the couch.

“…y…you promise?” she said, her voice trembling.

“I promise,” he said. “I swear it, Riza Hawkeye.”

She seemed to fall apart on him there, but they were tears of relief, and she clung to him, sobbing, thanking him, all the while he apologized for not coming sooner.

It was, to an extent, play acting, but Havoc could see clear regret in Mustang’s eyes—he regretted not stopping whatever had happened to Hawkeye sooner, not coming here sooner to save her from whatever it was that her father had done to her. Whatever this was, it went deeper than he had imagined.

The team still hovered, none of them sure of what, exactly, to do, and yet none of them wanting to leave Hawkeye’s side. Hawkeye’s tears eventually calmed, although it was because she fell asleep on Mustang, having cried herself to sleep under his reassurances that he wasn’t going to leave her.

Fuery was the first to speak. “…is she going to be alright?” he asked softly.

The room seemed to hold its breath.

“I don’t know,” Mustang finally said, which was not an answer any of them wanted to hear. “But I’m not leaving her. I promised her I wouldn’t.”

That much was pretty clear, Havoc thought, and to be honest, no one looked like they wanted to try moving him from the couch anyway—not when they could still see Hawkeye’s tear stained face and the way that she clung to him even in her sleep. Not when they could hear the echoes of her screams and sobs.

“What happened to her?” Falman asked and looked as if he immediately regretted saying it out loud, even if it was what they all were thinking.

Mustang just looked down at the woman in his arms, and gently stroked her hair. “Something traumatic,” he said. “Something horrifying. But… it’s not mine to tell. I won’t tell it. It’s up to her if she wants to entrust you with it or not. It’s not my decision to make.”

There really wasn’t any arguing with that, and the room fell silent. After a few moments, Fuery got up, and went to the kitchen. Havoc could hear him turning on water and starting to move pots around, clearly starting on supper, even though it didn’t look as if any of them were particularly hungry. Breda got up not long afterwards, and Falman as well. Havoc sat for a few minutes longer, and then he, too, got up and started to wander towards the kitchen. His legs were aching again, but he could at least sit and help cut up vegetables.

He walked solemnly out of the room, intent on heading straight for the kitchen. He paused, though, when he saw Falman and Breda looking at the lock that came from the basement door. It was still sitting where it fell when Mustang has used his alchemy to remove it.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Falman was saying. “I didn’t think it did then either, but I wasn’t as worried about it at that moment as I was about whatever had happened to Hawkeye.”

“No, you’re right,” Breda said, picking it up and looking at it. “It’s locked from both the inside and the outside. The outside makes sense, if someone wanted to keep her in there. But the inside? From the way she was acting, I doubt Hawkeye locked herself in there.”

“So then, how did the inside get locked?”

“That’s the hundred-million-cen question,” Breda said. “The only thing I can think of, is that there’s another way in and out of there.”

“If there is,” Havoc tossed in. “It either wasn’t there when Boss, Hawkeye and I came last time, or it’s extremely well hidden.” He shook his head. “I never saw any sign of a door or other opening down there. And you know Mustang would have mentioned it by now if he knew of one being down there.”

“Yeah,” Breda said, rubbing his chin. “Hey—how old do you think this house is?”

Falman and Havoc both looked around. “I’d guess over a hundred years old,” Havoc said.

“I’d say somewhere around one-hundred fifty, with renovations happening every so often.” Falman said. “Looking at the general style, the heights of door frames, and the way the foundation looks around the outside of the house, that is.”

“Yeah, okay, so, it’s old,” Breda said. “So, here’s a question: Why doesn’t the basement have an outside entrance? Just about every old house I’ve been in has an outside entrance to the basement for anything from coal to potatoes, to just a quick way to get in and out. So, where’s the one that belongs to this house?”

“There… isn’t one,” Havoc said, puzzled.

“Maybe,” Breda said. “Or maybe, there isn’t one now. If there is one and it’s somewhere, or if the remnants of it exist somewhere, then that might be how someone got in, locked the door from both sides, and still got out.”

“We’re going to need to find that, then, and see if we can prove it,” Havoc said.

“I’ll start looking around outside tomorrow,” Falman said.

“I’ll poke around too, if I can,” Havoc said. “I owe it to Hawkeye, at least.”

He felt a little guilty for the whole thing. How long had she been down there while he was sleeping in his bed, passed out from a drug? Had she called out for help? Had she screamed for him? Had whoever this was done something to her? He didn’t know. He didn’t know, because he had been sleeping instead of being up and facing the day like he was supposed to.

Pain be hung, he wasn’t going to let that interfere with his ability to be around or help his friends anymore. If he had to put up with pain so that they didn’t, then he would. He honestly never wanted to see Hawkeye in that position again, not if he could help it.

Breda seemed to sense what he was thinking and clasped his hands on Havoc’s shoulders. “Hey,” he said. “This wasn’t your fault, okay? You didn’t know and you couldn’t know. And taking that pill because your legs were in pain is not a bad thing. This was unpredicted. Don’t blame yourself.”

“Yeah, well…” he sighed. “I’m going to go help Fuery with supper.”

Breda let him go, obviously reading that, at the moment, there wasn’t a good way to convince Havoc to let go of the guilt. Logically, Havoc knew it wasn’t his fault. But knowing that didn’t make him feel less guilty, especially when he thought about Riza’s pleadings, screams and tears.

“Hey, Fuery, need a hand?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Hm? Oh, yeah… sure. Just... cut up these vegetables for me, will you? I’m going to make a soup for tonight. I think we could all use something a little warm and comforting.” Fuery said.

He wasn’t wrong, and Havoc knew it, but he also knew that he didn’t currently feel like eating. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, getting to work cutting the piles of vegetables that he had laid out. It was good mindless work for his hands as his brain thought and rolled over the knowledge that he had.

He knew that this place held bad memories for Hawkeye, ones that she didn’t want to discuss and that he hadn’t pushed. Mustang knew most of them, although clearly not all of them. Riza had told them that story about her and the water jars when they had been here earlier in the year, and he hadn’t known that one. Also, from the stories, he was about twelve when he arrived, and Hawkeye somewhere around nine. That left a lot of years for Riza to be on her own here. Her mother had been alive long enough to teach Riza some things, but not long enough for Riza to form good solid memories of her.

Riza’s father had been harsh to say the least. That thrashing she talked about getting after she broke that plate, the one that she said was the first thrashing that her father had given her. Havoc was pretty sure that it wasn’t an over-statement of the past anymore, but a legitimate thrashing that her father had given her when she was five years old because she had dropped a plate he could have put back together again with alchemy.

He also knew that Her father had died in the house, and she had cared for him up until the end.

And now he knew that her father had done something horrific and traumatizing to her, something that, apparently, she was tied down for. The implications of that made a shudder run through him, and he now wondered if that had anything to do with the reason that she always wore shirts that completely covered her back, refusing to take them off.

What kind of a man was her father? And just how twisted up had he gotten her that she wouldn’t leave him after that and would, instead, care for him until his death? How had that been broken? He was beginning to understand now why she was so angry about coming back here those months ago. He’d have hated to be shoved back into a place that held a deep trauma like this too. He knew that she had trauma from Ishval as well. Just how had Riza Hawkeye managed to become so stable an individual after all of this? How had she survived in this house and come out as normal as she had? He didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to, but he was also worried about her. There were too many questions and not enough answers for his liking.

With a sigh he focused on the vegetables and chopping them up. He would likely get no answers tonight. None of them would. He didn’t know if they’d get answers tomorrow or not—it really was a long shot. But he did know that he would be there for Riza no matter what.

As Havoc predicted, no one was especially hungry, although they all tried to eat at least a little of the soup. Most of it was put into the refrigerator for later. Hayate, at least, was feeling better, although it was clear that the little pup was still groggy. He mostly wanted to curl up and lay on people. Even Breda was gentle with him this time, gently pushing the little pooch away from him.

Havoc didn’t particularly want to leave Mustang and Hawkeye down here on the couch alone—none of the team did—but staying up all night would do no good either. Breda and Falman told Mustang of their concerns about the basement. Together with Fuery, they worked on something to make sure that if there was an entrance to the house from the basement, whoever it was either wouldn’t be able to get into the house or would set off alarms if they did. Mustang was armed with his gloves and a small pistol, and Hayate was sleeping on the couch with them as well. In an unspoken agreement, Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Fuery all took turns standing watch that night. However, even for those that attempted sleep, there were a lot of wandering feel and frequent bathroom trips. It seemed no one could quite relax.

Havoc laid in bed and tried to sleep, although it didn’t seem to be working. Outside, the rain poured even harder than before, drowning out any other sound he might have heard. The thunder and lightning came in waves of noise. It all seemed strangely appropriate for this day, and it felt like a bad omen somehow. Was something worse to come in the future? He wasn’t one to believe in such things, but he still found himself hoping that favor would look kindly upon them. This had surely been enough excitement for one trip, right?

#fullmetal alchemist Big Bang 2021 #FMA Big Bang 2021 #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma #royai #riza hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Jean Havoc #Heymans Breda #Vato Falman #Kain Fuery #black hayate #fan fiction #fanfic

7 notes · View notes

archangeldraws · 3 years

Text

Coming Home

A King Ghidorah fanfiction

Doraut AU

This is the story of how three little Dorats find their forever home and the bond they shared with a special human child

(Eva is my OC)

Soft light shines through the curtains and into the dim room. The sun is just starting to rise, but the owner of the room is still in bed, covered by a soft blanket, her chest slowly rising and falling.

She doesn't even notice when the door quietly opens and two figures step inside, approaching the small bed. One of the intruders opens the curtains, letting the warm glow of the sunshine in. The man smiles as his gaze falls upon the sleeping figure of his little daughter, still nestled into her pastel colored blanket, happily dreaming. His wife sits down at the foot of the bed, gently rubbing her daughter's side to wake her from her slumber. “Wake up Eva. Good morning darling.” They wait, carefully nudging the girl and smiling as she opens her eyes, yawns and stretches her little arms. “Happy birthday, darling!” They cheer, holding up a breakfast muffing with a candle.

Eva's face lights up, a big grin forming on her chubby cheeks as her parents sing her the Birthday song and she gets to blow out the candle. “Today is a very special day, sweetheart. You're 5 years old now!” Her father smiles. “Yes, indeed. You're a big girl now”, her mother agrees. “And we got something very special planned for you.” Eva jumps out of bed, already excited. “What is it? What is it??” “You'll see soon enough. But first, let's have breakfast.”

Quickly, the family makes it to the kitchen, where Eva's mother had already prepared breakfast. Not just a simple breakfast, but all the things Eva likes. Breakfast muffins, waffles with whipped cream and fresh strawberries, onigiri filled with sweet red bean filling and fresh veggies in a side bowl. After such a filling breakfast, her father pulls her aside. “Now, for your first gift, I need you to get dressed. Because we're going to go somewhere special.” “Where are we going, daddy?” “That's a surprise. Now quickly, get dressed and we'll go!”

Only 10 minutes later, the two of them were in the car and making their way through the city of Tokyo. It almost seems like forever, as Eva watched the huge buildings pass her by. Once they stopped, her father tells her to close her eyes and wraps a bandana around her eyes, as he carries her to their destination. “Alright, you can look now.” Clumsily, Eva pulls off the bandana and looks around the place, as her eyes grow big and light up. “Dorats!!” she exclaims excitedly. There they stood, in front of a big window, separating them from a group of Dorats in their enclosure. There were quite a few Dorat cubs, playing with each other and flapping around. “Yes Eva, Dorats. Your mother and I have been thinking long and hard about this. And since you've been such a good girl this year, we decided that you can have your own Dorat. Choose whichever one you like.” She smiles as a woman, who had been standing with them opens a door, leading her into the play room of the Dorats. “Take your time. You can play with them a little if you want, get to know them.” She smiles as Eva carefully steps into the play area of the pen, looking at all the little Dorat cubs. They watch her as they mew and trill, sniffing the air before approaching. Like every child, they're happy to see a new playmate. “I'm sure you'll find the right partner amongst them. Dorats know which human would be best for them. Let them approach you.”, the breeder explains.

There were so many of them. And they were all just so cute! Dorats, as Eva can see, come in different colors. There were brown ones, ginger, white, some had spots, some had stripes. Even a tri-colored one was there. And golden ones too! Eva laughs as she gets to pet them all and play with them. So adorable. And so small. Like a puppy. One of the golden ones inches closer, curious who this new human is. They all try to communicate with her, not yet able to build a strong mental link. All Eva can pick up are their emotions and single words. “Happy! Play! Pet me!” The little golden one was sniffing her hand, licking her fingers. She giggles and reaches out, running her hand trough it's fluffy head and back fur. The Dorat purrs and trills happily, asking for more scratches. “It seems this one really likes you.” Eva's father and the breeder watch her play and cuddle the little cub. “I like him too!” “Do you want this one?” “Yes, daddy!” She grins, picking the cub up and hugging it. It licks her face, purring and tail wagging. Then it looks back, grunting. It was calling. Eva follows it's gaze, spotting two other golden cubs. They were watching her, one slowly approaching her, the other sitting on a cat tree, looking down on her. “Come here little guy!” She stretches out her hand, letting the second Dorat sniff her hand. The one in her arm jumps down, circling the other golden one and grooming it, urging it closer to the girl. This cub seems weary of her, not daring to come much closer. She wonders if this cub was scared of her? So she thinks.... And then puts her hands into her pockets, pulling out a fist of crumbled fish crackers, holding them out for the Dorats. “Do you want some? They are my favorites!” The cubs sniff her hand again before licking the crumbs off her fingertips. Now the second Dorat seems to have lost it's weariness of her and purrs happily as well. The third one, still watching, spreads it's wings and glides down towards her. This cub seems to be good at flying already. It gives her the side eye, eyeing her up and down before it too, eats some of the crackers she offered them. Eva giggles, their little tongues tickling her and she pets the third Dorat, surprising it. But it doesn't shy away as they look each other in the eyes. She reaches out mentally, asking for a connection. Dorats, at this age, are still developing their psychic abilities, so complex thoughts aren't possible yet. And building up and holding a telepathic link with a human wasn't easy, as their capabilities weren't as strong as a Dorat's. Still, she tries to get in contact with the cub, letting it know she means to harm.

The breeder and Eva's father watch, as the girl communicates with three Dorats at once. “This is interesting.”, the woman says. “What is?” “These cubs there. They're brothers. They always stick together, but usually, when people come, only one of them tries to interact with humans. The other two aren't interested in contact, normally. So seeing them approach your daughter like this and not running off is special. I was a little worried that they might not get adopted if that keeps up.” “I see. But if that one is so friendly, how come it's still here?” “There were some that wanted to take him, but whenever I tried to give him over he would fly away and huddle up with the other two. And then no one could touch them again and all three would hiss and bite... So, if you want that one, you would have to take all three of them.” “All three?! But we only wanted one!” “Then you have to choose another one. I'm sorry, but these are a package deal. They do not want to be separated.” Eva's father ponders, looking back at his child, playing with the cubs. “Honey, come over here please. I want to ask you something.”, he beckons her over. She leaves the rest of her crackers with the cubs and skips over to her father.

“Yes, daddy?” “Sweetheart... Have you chosen a Dorat yet?” “Hmmm....” she thinks for a while. “I like these!” she points to the golden siblings. “Honey... I'm sorry, but you can only have one. Your mother and I agreed to one Dorat, but three? That's a lot of work! I don't know if we can handle three. Why don't you pick another one?” “But daddy!”. Eva looks at him, then back at the cubs. “I like them. We talked! And they're so cute!” “I know Eva, but-...” “Sir, if I may?” The woman looks at him. “I know it's not my place to say this, but... A bond between a human and a Dorat like this... This is special. As you know, while Dorats can link with anyone, the bonds they share with that one human are much stronger. And while we like to believe we choose the Dorat we want, it's actually the other way around. They, choose their human.” She smiles, but leaves out the part that, if they don't get adopted soon, the chance of finding a home for them would be slim to none, if they don't bond with a human. And then... She could still keep them for the breeding program to father a new generation, but if their cubs are like that as well, they don't have a chance. And Dorats that don't bond aren't wanted and don't live very long...

“Please daddy! They will be sad if we only take one!” “How do you know that, Eva?” “I could feel it. They want to stay together!”

At home, Eva's mother had decorated the living room and was getting everything ready for the family, once their relatives arrive for the party. She smiles as she heard the front door open and her daughter hastily taking off her shoes to storm inside. “So, how did it go? Did you find a friend?” “Yes mommy, thank you! This is the best day ever!” She smiles as her husband carries a transport box into the room. “Alright, this is your new home!” He opens the door and, waiting for a minute, a little golden Dorat steps out, looking around and sniffing the air. And then another one... And a third.... “What-.... What is this? Three Dorats! Dear! We agreed on one Dorat!” “I'm sorry! But you should have seen it! I just couldn't say no to her. And look, she's so happy!” His wife sighs, shaking her head. “Can we even take care of three Dorats? It'll be too much work. And the costs for food, the vet bills, the toys!” “I know...” he grins, shrinking back a little. Eva doesn't care. She is now a happy little owner of her own Dorats and already busy showing them around and talking about everything all the while. Her parents watch, following them as the cubs looks around and sniff everything, following their daughter. “So.... Do you have names for them yet?”, her mother asks, hoping a bit that she doesn't and isn't as attached as she thinks she is. Maybe they can give two back? “Hmmm... Not yet.” The girl thinks... and thinks.... Before pulling out the three collars they had picked up on their way from a pet shop and all the other things they need. She takes the blue collar, putting it on the quiet cub. “Your name is now..... Ichi! Ok? You're Ichi!” she grins and the cub, now dubbed Ichi looks at her, seemingly nodding and accepting his name. Then, she puts a red collar on the second one. “And you.... You are Ni!” the now named Ni pulls at the collar, not used to having something around his neck and eventually gives up once he realized it won't come off and just huffs. The last collar, the green one, goes on the third. And it seems pretty happy with it. “And your name is San!”

Behind her, her parents laugh. Their daughter, in her creativity, just named them One, Two and Three! The rest of the day seems to go by in a blur. Eva doesn't even notice when her aunts and uncles and cousins arrive and spends most of the time getting to know her new friends. And at the end of the day, her parents tuck her into bed, happy but exhausted. And next to the child, three little Dorats snore away in the same bed.

They are now home.

(If you enjoyed this little story, please give me some feedback. I don’t usually write, so please bear with me ^^)

#King Ghidorat #Dorats #Dorat AU #King Ghdorah Dorat AU #King Ghidorah fanfiction #Fanfiction #Kind Ghidorah backstory Dorat AU #Ichi Ni and San #Godzilla OC #Godzilla Human OC #Human OC #Fluff #Ichi #No #Ni #San #King Ghidorah

21 notes · View notes

snelbz · 4 years

Text

Lovely {6}

@tacmc x @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty collaboration

A/N: Hello, you beautiful people. That’s right, it’s back. We love to see y’all’s reactions to our stories so please reblog and comment and let us know what you think! Enjoy!

FIND PREVIOUS CHAPTERS HERE

SHELBY’S ASK BOX // SHELBY’S MASTERLIST

TARA’S ASK BOX // TARA’S MASTERLIST

Azriel opened his eyes, enjoying the comfort of his bed. He assumed it was fairly early, considering only the faintest stream of sunlight had peeked through the curtains, and Asher wasn’t crying to be released from the confines of his crib yet. Until then, he would lay and relax.

There was a shift on the other side of the mattress and Azriel cursed himself, silently, for waking her; but, when he rolled onto his side, Elain was still fast asleep.

Her hair had come undone at some point in the night, and the brown curls were sprawled out across Azriel’s dark gray sheets. Her plump, pink lips were parted, her breathing even. His comforter laid just below her breasts, and it took a hefty amount of self control not to reach out and brush his fingers over her peeked nipples.

The night before had been incredible. They’d made love twice, and every other second was spent in drunk kisses and soft giggles. He took his time exploring her, and she with him, and he’d never experienced anything so wondrous and enthralling.

He was falling in love with her, and the thought was terrifying. It was one thing to like someone, to even like them a lot, but now he was falling, head over heels, at full speed. He had never fallen in love before, not like this.

He came with way more baggage than most men his age, and that was just the messy custody battle with Ianthe. He was dreading the conversation they’d have when she asked about his parents.

Draeven was not his father’s last name. No, he’d taken his mother’s maiden name as his own when the bastard was officially sentenced to prison. His name had never been formally released, always redacted in every story and news segment, so very few knew the truth, the notoriety of his childhood. He didn’t want to see the look of pity in her eyes when she found out.

He rolled over, pressing soft kisses to Elain’s shoulder, and just as she was starting to stir-.

A cry came from the baby monitor.

“Thanks, little dude,” Azriel groaned quietly as he pulled his discarded boxer-briefs on from the night before and hurried across the hall. Asher was sitting up in his crib, eyes wide as he gazed around the room. “Good morning,” he cooed, lifting his son from his crib and carrying him to the changing table. “We have a guest this morning, so we can’t be screaming this early, yeah?” Asher just chewed on the pacifier Azriel had popped in his mouth and stared up at his father while he put a fresh diaper on him. Azriel pressed a kiss to his belly and said, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

A cute onesie was a necessity and after getting Asher as adorable as possible, Azriel carried him back to his bedroom. Where he found the bed empty.

He glanced towards the bathroom, seeing the light was off and it was empty. Then he heard a noise from down in the kitchen. He crept down the stairs and found Elain in front of his coffee maker, his shirt skimming her thigh. He could tell she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.

On quiet feet, Azriel stepped up behind her and pressed a kiss to her neck. “Good morning, beautiful.”

She jumped as she spun around, and for a second Azriel thought that she might curse him for scaring her, but her eyes were on Asher’s. She took the giggling baby into her arms and said, in a perfect, high-pitched voice, “Good morning.”

Asher clapped his hands together, his toothless grin wide as Elain set him in his highchair. Azriel was already mixing his cereal together, which was a good thing, because Asher was obviously hangry. His angry little voice filled the air as he banged on his highchair tray.

“I know, I’m coming,” Azriel promised, grabbing a little spoon from the drawer and pulling a chair up in front of the highchair. After putting a bib around Asher’s neck, he was chowing down.

Before he could even ask, Elain had set a cup of coffee down in front of him. Azriel smiled as he put Asher’s spoon up to his little lips. Most of the cereal trailed down his chin.

“Thank you,” Azriel said, looking at Elain, who had sat on the opposite side of the table. “It’s going to be a coffee day. Someone kept me up all night.”

Her cheeks turned pink as she sipped from her mug. “Pretty sure it was the other way around.”

Azriel’s grin widened. “Fair enough, I’ll take the blame.”

Elain sucked in her bottom lip, and Azriel was just about to say something when Asher blew a raspberry and Azriel got splattered with cereal, all over his face and his chest.

He slowly set down the bowl and the spoon before looking at his giggling infant and saying, “Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

Elain’s hands were covering her mouth as she laughed. “Go clean yourself, I’ll take over.”

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh at Asher’s joy, and as he stood up, he kissed Elain, softly, before she took her place in his chair and started to feed Asher.

Azriel had only just made it to the sink when there was a knock on the door. He blinked, then looked to the clock above the stove. It was only just after seven.

He wiped off his face, but when the knock came again, he was hurrying toward the door. After pulling on a pair of sweatpants that were hanging over the back of the couch, Azriel opened the door, and stilled.

Ianthe was there, in her jogging attire - which didn’t amount to much. When she saw Azriel, bare-chested and hair still a mess, a wide, feline grin spread across her lips. “Well, good morning, baby daddy.”

He gaped and finally said, “What are- Ianthe, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my baby. Where is he?” She tried to peek around him into the house, but he angled the door where only his entryway could be seen.

“It’s seven in the morning. On a Saturday.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the frame, becoming a veritable wall blocking her view.

“Well, we have plans this morning and I have to get him ready,” she said, taking another step up his porch stairs.

Before he could say anything, Asher’s happy giggle could be heard echoing through the house. And then Elain’s voice was floating towards him. “That’s not very nice, Asher. You can’t spit your breakfast on daddy and on me. No, you can’t. No, sir.”

Azriel had tensed and when he turned back to Ianthe, she had an eyebrow raised and her eyes were like ice. “Who’s that, daddy?”

“None of your concern,” Azriel said back, his voice calm. “And I have him until tonight. I’ll drop him off at six, like we agreed on.”

“Plans changed,” she snapped. “Now get my baby away from the whore or I’ll go in there and grab him myself.”

Azriel’s jaw locked as he stepped out onto the porch and shut the door quietly behind him. “Watch your tongue.”

“Or what?” she asked, intrigued. “What will you do, Az? As of right now, you have to do what I say, legally, and I’m telling you to get your pretty little ass inside, grab my son, and bring him to me so we’re not late.”

Azriel didn’t move.

Ianthe took a step toward him. “Or it’ll be awhile before I let you have him again. Understand?”

Azriel crossed his arms. “I don’t like threats.”

“Too bad,” she said. “I have the power, and you’ve already pissed me off by letting my son around that skank. As you’ve said, it’s seven on a Saturday morning. Now, why would a woman be in your kitchen so early?”

“Oh, fuck off. How many men have you been with this week alone, Ianthe?” The words came out of his mouth before he could think better of it. He pressed on before she could bite back. “Nothing in our agreement stipulated that I wasn’t allowed to be in a relationship.”

“Consider it added now,” she said, a wicked smile on her face, pulling her phone from her leggings, the gods knew where there was room. She typed out a quick text message and Azriel stared at her, in absolute shock.

He breathed, “You vindictive bitch.”

She smiled up at him again and was about to say something else that was meant to wound him, but he gripped her wrist with far too much gentleness considering the conversation, and turned it over.

Because that crazed look in her eye, it wasn’t only delight at fucking him over once again. There was a reason she was so chipper at seven on a Saturday morning.

The words were deathly soft. “Are you using again?”

Her arm was jerked from his grip before he could react. “Get your hands off of me. That’s none of your fucking concern.”

Azriel chuckled, humorlessly, as he shook his head. “You’re not taking him. You’re on a high, and you’re not taking him.”

“Don’t fu-.”

“You didn’t even drive here,” Azriel began, exasperated, his hands shaking from the pure anger radiating throughout his body. He looked behind her to find the street nearly empty, her car nowhere in sight. “What was your plan? Jog him on your hip back to your parents house? Fuck, Ianthe-.”

“Give me Asher.”

“No,” Azriel said, firmly. “I’ll drop him off, at your parents, at six tonight, so that I know he’s safe. And that was our agreement.” He’d have a talk with them, too, Ianthe’s parents.

Because he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Asher go with Ianthe. Not if she was back on drugs, not again. He would fight it, and if he lost his parenting rights in the process…

No, he wouldn’t let himself think that way, wouldn’t let his mind wander to the horrid, unfair possibilities. The world couldn’t be that cruel.

Then again. As a child, himself, the world was that cruel.

Ianthe hadn’t said another word. She stared at Azriel, venom igniting those teal eyes.

“Go home, Ianthe,” Azriel warned.

There was a small list of things he had expected her to do in response, but spitting in his face wasn’t one of them. His body tensed as her saliva smacked him in the face, right between his eyes. But then she was walking back down the porch steps, all while saying, “You made a big mistake, Azriel.”

He didn’t move, not until she was down the street, jogging around the corner.

Azriel stepped back into the house, heading straight for the kitchen sink. He took a paper towel off of the holder and wiped Ianthe’s spit off of his face. When he turned around, he froze.

Elain was sitting in the same chair, still in his t-shirt, and Asher was asleep in her arms. She was watching Azriel, though, her eyes full of concern.

All he said was, “Did you give him his bottle?”

She nodded. “Burped him, too.”

His smile was tired, but he said, “Thank you.” He sighed and let his head fall. “Elain, there’s something I have to do today, but I don’t think I can do it alone.” He swallowed hard. He’d never once taken anyone with him to meet with Helion, nor had he ever wanted to. But today, he needed someone there to steady him, to keep him grounded.

Because he’d never been so angry in his entire life. He’d seen red and couldn’t allow himself to do so, but the fact that Ianthe had actually intended to take their child while she was…

Elain stood, cradling his son as if he were the most precious gift, and walked to him. She took his hand in her free one. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

___

Rhysand had given Feyre a cup of coffee, but she couldn’t drink it. All she could think about was Tamlin, still lying on her couch. All through the night, it was all she could think about. No, she and Rhys hadn’t had sex, and every time they got a little too hot and heavy, she pushed him away and looked toward the doorway of her bedroom, thinking that Tamlin would be standing right there.

But he hadn’t moved, all night, and now that morning had come, she wanted him out of her fucking house.

“Do you want me to wake him up?” Rhysand asked, for the tenth time since they’d rolled out of her bed.

Feyre didn’t answer. She had told Rhys no so far, thinking that if Rhysand was to wake him up, there would be an instant fist fight, and that was no way to start a Saturday morning. So, instead, although she was unsure how it was any better, Feyre went to the cabinet by the sink and opened it up, retrieving a glass. After filling it up with water, she walked to the back of the couch and dumped it on Tamlin’s face.

With a shuddering gasp, Tamlin was sitting up and looking around. “What the fuck?”

“Time to go,” Feyre said, setting the glass down on the side table, with a little more force than necessary. He flinched at the sound, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad about it.

He groaned as he leaned forward, water dripping from his hair.

She sighed and said, “Come on, Tam, I’m serious. I need you to leave.”

He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say a word. He just stood and turned to leave, but when his eyes fell on Rhysand, he froze. “You always have to win.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes, but he remained silent. Feyre stared at the floor as she listened to his heavy footsteps walk through the foyer, and out the front door.

For a moment, the small townhouse remained silent, but then Feyre looked up to meet his gaze. “What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know, Feyre-.”

“Bullshit!” she yelled, exasperated. She was annoyed, angry, and sleep-deprived. She didn’t have the time or patience to be dancing around the subject any longer. “I have to know what happened between you two, Rhys. I like you, I really do, a lot, but I can’t deal with secrets, not anymore.”

His lips snapped shut, and for a moment, she thought that he would tell her he didn’t want to, that he wasn’t in the mood, yet again, but then he sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Fine.”

As if she wasn’t expecting it, which she truly wasn’t, her body stilled. Then, before he could change his mind, she was slowly sitting in the chair next to him at the kitchen table. She didn’t push him, didn’t rush him, only sat perfectly still, her anger turning into nerves. The possibilities of what he was about to say had her stomach churning.

He took a deep breath and said, “I’ve known Tamlin pretty much my whole life. We went to the same elementary school, played on the same teams, and we were… we used to be friends.”

Shit. Feyre had known there was history, but she didn’t know it went that far back.

Rhys continued, “I don’t exactly remember when we had our falling out, but Tamlin’s dad was always pushing to be better, by using me as an example. He’d talk to my dad at work, find out how I was doing in my classes, and then he’d go home and berate Tam about how much better of a son I was.”

Tam. The familiarity of the nickname made Feyre’s heart hurt.

“In short, somewhere in middle school, he started to hate me, and I understood it,” Rhysand continued, shrugging. “His dad was an asshole, and he had to have someone else to blame it on. Considering I was a part of the equation, it made sense that it was me.”

There was something sad, something regretful in Rhysand’s eye, but Feyre didn’t question it. She remained quiet, and she listened.

“Anyway, middle school went by and then high school began,” Rhysand went on, staring at his intertwined hands. “We didn’t talk much, only when we had to. We’d drifted into our own groups of friends, found our own places where we belonged, even though we still played on all the same sport teams yet. Anyway, that’s just kind of how it was between us, at least for a while. Things were tense, but they were never bad, you know?” He didn’t wait for Feyre to answer before he went on. At this point, it was like he was talking mostly to himself. “Our junior year, my parents were out one night, coming home with my little sister from a dance recital. They got in an accident, and none of them made it out alive. My parents died instantly, having gotten hit head on. And my sister, who was only thirteen at the time, was in a coma for two days before they made me make the decision to pull her off of life support.”

His voice had become a deadly quiet, and Feyre couldn’t breathe. Rhysand wasn’t looking at her, he was still staring at his hands. His eyes had lined with silver, those tears nearly about to fall, but he only cleared his throat.

“It, uh,” he started, then shook his head, sending those tears that had held themselves in down his tanned cheeks. “It was Tamlin’s dad that had hit them. He was drunk, behind the wheel, and swerved in his lane, going way too fast, hitting my parents and my sister.”

Every thought in Feyre’s mind faded away. She had never met Tamlin’s dad, and Tamlin wouldn’t talk about it, only told her that his dad was gone. She didn’t understand, not yet, but as Rhysand went on, all the pieces came together.

“He hated me after that, blamed the fact that his dad was in prison for life on me,” Rhysand said, a humorless laugh loud in the quiet of the townhouse. “And I hated him for that. I hated him for blaming that shit on me, just because he needed someone to blame it on.”

Feyre stood, rounding her table and taking his hands in hers. She knelt in front of him.

“Rhys, I’m so sorry.”

He smiled at her, it was sad, but it was a smile nonetheless. “You have nothing to apologize for. You had every right to ask, I just… It’s a part of my life that’s still painful to open up. I’m glad Rayn doesn’t remember any of it, but that doesn’t mean we don’t miss our parents everyday.”

Feyre’s phone rang from the kitchen counter, and she glanced at it, but Rhysand said, “Go ahead, baby.”

She hurried to catch her phone before it was sent to voicemail, but when she saw her father’s name on the screen, she hesitated.

With a sigh, she answered, “Hello?”

“Feyre? Hi.” Isaac sounded far too cheery for such an hour. “Busy today?”

Feyre looked over at Rhysand, who was watching her with furrowed brows. “I’m...not sure. What’s up?”

“I was going to meet your sister for lunch. Was wondering if you’d like to join us?”

Feyre blinked. “Which sister?”

Isaac laughed quietly into the phone. “Nesta. Elain says she’s busy.”

Of course, I’d be the last one you call.

“I don’t know, dad, I-.”

“Come on,” Isaac begged, and the sincerity in his voice was overwhelming. “I haven’t seen you since I’ve been back in town. Hell, I haven't seen you in six months. It’s just lunch. To catch up.”

Feyre leaned back against the counter, nibbling on her bottom lip as Rhysand continued to watch her, intently.

“Okay,” Feyre breathed. “Fine. What time?”

“Nesta told me she’d be at the diner at noon, will that work for you?”

She nodded, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see her. “Sure, dad, I’ll see you then.”

Isaac sighed, “Thank you, Feyre, dear.”

She cringed. She hated it when he called her Feyre, dear. It felt so...formal. “You’re welcome, bye.”

As soon as she hung up, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the cabinets, which gently banged with a soft thud! Feyre groaned. The last thing she wanted to do, especially after a night of little to no sleep, was go sit through a forty five minute cold shoulder contest between her father and eldest sister.

But then she smelled jasmine and nightshade and citrus, and she felt fingers skimming up the outside of her thigh. Rhys breathed, right by her ear, “Don’t tell me I took the day off of work for no reason.”

Feyre tilted her head down until her eyes met his. He lifted her up onto the counter, stepping in the space in between her legs. She let her arms drape around his neck and said, “I’m afraid so. I have to meet my dad and sister for lunch.”

“What time?” He asked, leaning down and pressing kisses to her jaw.

His fingers dug into her bare thigh, her shorts having ridden up. She said, “I’m meeting them at noon.”

He glanced over her shoulder at the clock on the microwave. “We’ve got about five hours, don’t we?”

Feyre groaned. “It’s that early? Why aren’t we in bed?”

Rhysand leaned back and met her gaze. “Are you inviting me back to bed?”

Feyre grinned, tilting her head as she pretended to think on it. “If you carry me there.”

Rhysand didn’t have to be told twice. He lifted her off the counter and slowly carried her up the stairs, his lips never parting from her skin. Feyre closed her eyes and dwelled in his touch, in the way the touch of his lips set her on fire.

Rhysand carried her back into her bedroom, where they’d spent their night tangled in each other’s arms, and dropped her on her mattress.

They kissed for a little while, but due to her night full of worry and anger, Rhysand didn’t pressure her for anything at all. Instead, he pulled her back into his arms and rubbed her back until she fell soundly, peacefully asleep.

_____

Lunch had been horrible, just as Nesta had expected it to be. Nothing too eventful happened, but it was horribly awkward. She got a free meal out of it, she supposed, so that was a plus; but, she was grateful that it would be another six months before her father asked her out to lunch again.

There had always been that pattern.

Nonetheless, it was over and done with and the day was still fairly young, which meant she got to spend it at Cassian’s.

His apartment was on the other side of town from the diner she had met her dad at, and by the time she had gotten there through the busy city, she had nearly lost her mind. She hoped Cassian had wine, and that he didn’t judge her too much for starting to drink so early in the day.

He’d given her a key, just in case he was asleep when she arrived back, as he’d claimed that the previous nights’ activities had completely exhausted him. He’d even said that without a nap, he’d have no energy to please his girlfriend all night again. She’d rolled her eyes and kissed him goodbye, before smacking him in the face with the pillow she’d been sleeping on.

True to his word, when Nesta called Cassian when she was about five minutes away, he hadn’t answered. She laughed quietly, debating on the ways she could wake him up. She parked and let herself into his apartment, careful not to let the door slam. But Cassian wasn’t sleeping.

A gentle melody floated through the apartment from down the hall. Nesta froze in the doorway as the music grew louder, and slipped off her shoes and put down her purse before quietly tip-toeing down the hall. He was in his office, across from his bedroom, facing the wall where a small, wooden piano sat. It was old, but finely tuned. He said it had belonged to his grandmother who was a music teacher for young students back in the day.

He constantly thought about getting a new one, but he’d always said there was something about the piano that made him love to play even more.

She couldn’t see his face, but she knew by the way his head was tossed back that his eyes were closed. He wore sweatpants and an old t-shirt, his hair tied up at the back of his head. He obviously hadn’t heard her come in, and she didn’t want to ruin the moment she’d caught him in.

As his fingers danced gracefully across the keys, Nesta leaned against the doorway and watched.

She closed her eyes, listening as the melody flowed around her. It made her heart want to dance, when so many things these days didn’t. Her soul felt like it could breathe and as she listened, she imagined the dance she would craft to his songs, the stories they could tell together.

Nesta hadn’t realized she was crying until she sniffled quietly and Cassian’s hands slowed and stopped on the ivory keys.

He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see her standing there, and hesitated when he saw she was crying. “What’s wrong? How long have you been standing there?”

He was up on his feet and walking toward her when she answered, “Long enough to get emotional, apparently. You play beautifully.”

His eyes softened as his arms wrapped around her and he kissed her, softly. “You used the key.”

She nodded, her forehead falling into his chest.

He was quiet for a moment before he said, “You should keep it.”

Nesta kept her head pressed into his chest as she stilled and said, “It’s… Cass, are you sure? You don’t think it’s too soon?”

He shrugged and she finally looked up at him. “I want to spend as much time with you as possible. If that means giving you a key so you can come see me, so be it.”

Nesta could feel her walls rising, could feel every instinct she had telling her to run, that it was too soon, that she couldn’t get attached. But regardless of all of that, regardless of the pit in her stomach, she nodded and said, “Okay.”

He could tense the tension in her body as he ran her hands down her arms. “You don’t have to always use it,” he followed. “Just when I’m lost in my music, or sleeping.” She chuckled and then he added, “Or, you know, when you miss me.”

She pushed back from his chest and lifted a brow. “And what makes you think that I ever miss you?”

He pulled her back toward him by her waist as he grinned. “Oh, you miss me. Judging by all the noises you were making last night-.”

She pushed him in the chest, trying to suppress her laughter as she did so.

#lovely 6 #lovely tacmc toab #toab tacmc collab #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #elriel #nessian #feysand

175 notes · View notes

badassbeifong · 4 years

Text

The Chief’s Lover (Pt. 2)

! Gif not mine !

Word Count: 2107

Warnings: None

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You could hear the wind blowing softly outside. The sound of cars driving by. Soft breathing of someone near you. Almost like they were sleeping.

You opened your eyes suddenly and sat up. Looking around the room, you realized that you were in some kind of medical room. White walls, white bed sheets, white floors. Definitely a medical room. To your left, there was a window. It was open slightly to let fresh air in. You turned your head to the right and gasped quietly. Lin was sitting in a chair, completely asleep. And yet somehow, she had amazing posture.

You shifted slightly in your bed and tried to sit up but your body just wouldn’t respond. You sighed and gave up but your movements caused Lin to walk up with a jolt.

“L/N! You’re awake!” She stood up and walked towards your bed.You nodded and tried to move again but you just couldn’t. It’s like your body didn’t want to listen to you. Lin saw you struggling and shook her head.

“It’s no use.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped struggling and looked up at her.

“The tea was poisoned. It’s a toxin that essentially paralyzes your body.” She replied.

“Wait what? I’m paralyzed?”

“Temporarily.”

“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” You huffed and crossed your arms.

“I thought it was obvious. Alright. I’m going to head back to the station.” Lin picked up her coat and started walking towards the door.

“Ah ok.” You frowned slightly.

“Hurry up and recover.” It sounded like a harsh comment but you knew what she meant.

“Right.” You looked down at your hands and tried to move them. Nothing happened.

“She seems nice today.” The doctor said as she walked into your room.

“Is she not always like that?” You asked her.

“Oh god no. I’ve never seen her do that.” The doctor replied as she picked up the clipboard beside your bed and flipped through it.

“Do what?”

“Stay the whole night with any one of her officers. She usually pops in and then leaves a few minutes later.” The doctor put the clipboard down and looked at you.

“She stayed the whole night? Wait, I was in here the whole night?” You blinked and looked around, suddenly disoriented.

“Yup. Whatever that toxin is, it knocked you out and left you temporarily paralyzed. And yes, she stayed the whole night. That’s why I’m surprised.” The doctor checked your heart rate and smiled.

“Well you seem fine.”

“I can’t move.”

“Except for that, of course. It’ll wear off in a bit.” She smiled at you and left the room.

You were alone with your thoughts for the next few hours so you decided to meditate. It was something that you learned from Tenzin whenever he would stop by to check on Korra. You picked it up a lot quicker than her.

“Um, someone’s here to see you.” A nurse popped her head in to alert you and you tried to sit up and look as dignified as possible.

“You must be Y/N. My name is Tarrlok. I’m one of the council members here.” A tall man walked into your room and you were taken back.

He was clearly a waterbender, based on his clothes. And he smelled oddly feminine. But what really bothered you was the fact that he was here alone. You remembered Tenzin telling you that council members always go places with a assistant.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Sir.” You greeted him back and he laughed.

“There’s no need for such formalities. How are you feeling? I heard about what happened. It’s terrible.” He walked over to the chair that Lin had been sitting in and pulled it closer to your bed and then sat down.

“I’m feeling a lot better than I was a while ago.” You smiled slightly.

“That’s good to hear. How long have you been here?” He rested his arm on the arm rest and intertwined his fingers, staring at you with a look of curiosity.

“The hospital or Republic City?”

“Republic City.”

“Well I arrived two nights ago.” He nodded but didn’t say anything.

Minutes went by and you were starting to get worried. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“I have an offer for you.” He said suddenly and you frowned.

“Really? What is it?” You had no idea what he had to offer you.

“Leave you position at the police force and join me on the council. I can guarantee that it’s much safer. You were clearly targeted because you’re new to the force.” He smiled at you as if he had just given you the best thing in the world.

“What? No. I’m not leaving the force. That’s absurd. Whether I was attacked for being new to the force or not, I’ll deal with it on my own.” You crossed your arms and tried not to show how surprised you were that your body was moving again.

“I see. Well you seem to have made up your mind.” Tarrlok got up and walked to the door, turning around just before he opened it.

“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” You replied and he left.

“Well that was horrible.” You said outloud as you processed what had just happened.

“He’s usually like that.” You jumped and look back up at the door.

Lin was standing in the doorway, leaning against the door frame casually. She didn’t look as worried as she did earlier which relieved you.

“How long have you been standing there?” You asked her as she walked into the room.

“I was waiting outside the whole time. Tarrlok really does talk a lot.” She walked over to the window and stared out of it.

“Yeah...I thought you went back to the station.” You said and she nodded.

“I was on my way there when I saw Tarrlok making his way here. I had a feeling that he would try to talk to you.” She turned around and looked at you.

“He tried to get me to quit.”

“I heard.”

“But I didn’t.”

“I know.”“Wait just how long were you out there?”

“Let’s see...the whole time I think.” She smirked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is something funny?”

“No, not at all.” You smiled at her and she frowned.

“Then why are you laughing?”

“You’re really not that bad.”

She froze and stared at you. Lin had been told that she was intimidating, harsh and occasionally, heartless but not that bad? That was a new one.

“What are you comparing that statement to?” She asked as she leaned back against the window sill.

“Just some stories I’ve heard.” You stretched and she gasped quietly.

“You can move again I see.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, that’s pretty recent.” You grinned and stretched some more.

“You’re quite flexible.” Lin pointed out as you continued to stretch.

“Yeah, I wasn’t always this flexible though. It took years of constant stretching.” You stopped and stared at her.

It was only then, when the sun hit her face on a slight angle, that you realized how beautiful her eyes were. Not only the colour, but the fire that burned behind them. The determination that could make anyone feel inspired. But for a split second you saw something else. A soft kindness that made your heart melt.

“Is something wrong?” Lin asked you suddenly and you snapped out of your thoughts.

“Yes- I mean no! Just thinking. Sorry.” You blushed and looked away from her.

“Can you walk?”

“Usually yes. Right now, I don’t know.”

“Want to give it a try?” She held her hand out to you and you hesitated.

“Sure.” You took a deep breath and took her hand, slowly trying to stand.

“Easy, we’re in no rush.” She gently guided you out of your bed.

You stood up straight and slowly let go of her hand. Standing was no problem. But you weren’t too sure about walking. Lin seemed to notice your hesitation.

“You don’t have to do this-”

“No, I want to.” You took a step forward and wobbled.

“Ok so walking is a no for now.” Lin said and you frowned.

“I’m going to do this.”

“Y/N, you have nothing to prove.”

“Yes, I do!” You exclaimed as you took another step forward.

You rushed it. The moment you lifted your foot of the ground, you knew. There was nothing you could do as you went flying, face-first, towards the floor.

“Second time in two days.” Lin said as she caught you just before you hit the ground.

“What do you mean?”

“This is the second time I’ve caught you in the last two days. Don’t make a habit out of this.” She helped you stand up straight and you blushed.

“Sorry. I just-”

“I know. But you really should take this a bit slower. Here, lean on me.” She wrapped her arm around your should and you blushed harder.

“Take it easy.” She mumbled as you tried to walk faster.

“I’m not use to doing things slowly. Especially walking. Where are we going anyways?” You frowned and asked her.

“There’s a park nearby that I think you might like. Especially considering you’ve been in that room for a day.” She replied.

“A park?”

“Mhm.”

You weren’t really sure just how amazing this park was but Lin seemed to know what she was doing so you decided to trust her and go along with this.

“We’re here.” She said suddenly as you turned the corner.

You were speechless. The park really was amazing. It seemed like a south pole-inspired park. Everything there reminded you of home. You couldn’t help but tear up.

“Is something wrong?” Lin asked you as she led you over to a bench.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.” You smiled up at her was was shocked when you saw her blush.

You sat there with her in a comfortable silence. The sounds of rushing water, mid-day traffic and city life could be heard in the distance, only helping to put your mind at ease. Lin stood up suddenly and turned around, clearly ready to fight someone.

“So this is why you turned down my offer, Y/N?” Tarrlok said as he walked around, stopping in front of you.

“What are you doing here Tarrlok?” Lin asked him, lowering her hands but standing her ground.

“I could ask you the same question, Chief Beifong. Don’t you have a city to protect?” He asked Lin with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“My people can do their job with or without me guiding them.” She replied with a bit of anger in her tone.

“I daresay they can. But I am curious. Why are you so interested in Y/N?” He took a step closer to Lin.

“Y/N, is the newest member of my team, it’s my job to ensure that she’s ok.” Lin glared at him.

“Is that so? You’re here with her because you want to make sure she’s ok? Because she’s your newest member? Or is it something else?” He stepped closer once again, attempting to tower over her.

“Why do you care so much?” You spoke up suddenly.

Tarrlok was starting to get on your nerves.

“Well, I just don’t want a repeat of what happened last time. Why, you almost lost your job over one person, isn’t that right Lin?” Tarrlok had a triumphant look on his face.

“Trust me, I’ve got this under control.” Lin fired back.

“So it is something more? I thought so. I’m sure everyone will be...interested by this news. Especially the press.” Tarrlok turned around and started to walk away.

“Tarrlok-”

“Be careful Lin. You shouldn’t let your feelings interfere with your job.” Tarrlok said as he disappeared through the trees.

“What was all of that about?” You asked Lin but she didn’t say anything.

“Chief?” You stood up and placed your hand on her shoulder.

“Tomorrow...I’m going to hand in my resignation.” Lin said as she started to walk away from you.

“What? Chief wait! Why?” You called after her but she didn’t respond.

She hated to admit it but Tarrlok was right. She couldn’t let her feelings interfere with her work. Not only that but Lin had found out that you were targeted because of her. Lin swore that she would keep you safe but she realized now that she would have to do it from a distance. Even though it pained her to do so. It was better for you.

Or so it seemed.

#legend of korra #legend of korra fanfic #lin beifong #lin x reader #lin beifong x reader #lin beifong is incredibly hot #x reader #keifics

84 notes · View notes

tracybirds · 3 years

Text

Don’t talk to me about timelines XD lockdown 3.0 was an unpleasant surprise but it did give me some fun fodder to play with. Missing from this were the stream of Valentines to Covid that spread around my section of NZ social media XD I was tempted to make Scott write some, but alas it didn’t fit. Obviously plenty has been fudged, it’s definitely not meant to be taken too seriously and more allows me to collect together some of the mixed emotions of getting a five hour countdown to lockdown D: That was not fun lol like far out, and we had to prepped for remote learning by 9am the next day. Scott is not allowed to complain further in his swanky apartment and no job XDD

In all seriousness, this is Scott’s story for FabFiveFeb2021, hosted by the ever lovely @gumnut-logic (Happy Birthday! still the right day in Aus, I didn’t miss it right :0 either way *hugs*** and I hope it was a nice day :DD)

Prompt used was “Are you kidding?” - it really resonated on Sunday evening ahaha (okay I will stop rambling in my defense it’s post midnight and I have feverishly pummelled this out in a couple of hours, it had been itching at me all day.... I missed that feeling :DDD)

----------------------

Scott was International Rescue through and through, but in the murky waters of the central business district, he thrived.

It was a closed meeting, stretching into the long shadowy hours of the evening. Legal advisors quibbled over clauses while Scott exchanged pleasantries with the company representatives, talking up his local ties to New Zealand’s City of Sails.

“My Dad taught me to sail, right out there in the harbour, you know.”

A casual remark but carefully designed to make himself seem approachable and down-to-earth, just another “one of the guys”. His associate had also sailed once, a national representative in his youth, although time and his new habit of lunch meetings had left those days long in the past.

Personal connections made more money than the lawyers in the background ever could, and Scott prided himself on the homegrown touch.

“Mine too,” said the jovial, middle aged man. “Although I reckon it wasn’t near as pretty a yacht as yours. I’ve read up on you as well, you know.”

Scott laughed, clapping the man on the shoulder.

“Len, I knew we’d get on. What do you say to dinner? This has been going on for far too long.”

“I know a great place that keeps a table reserved for me. Even on Valentine’s.”

“I’m flattered.” He nodded to Van Zyl briefly before addressing the small crowd.

“Ladies, gentlemen. You’ve done some good work, and it’s been a long one. We’ll leave it here for the night and reconfer in the morning.”

He acknowledged the tired smiles and leaned back and listened as the chatter evolved from the dry intricacies of patent law into cheery conversation of dinner plans and family time ahead.

He turned and looked out at the city, lights starting to turn on in the early evening light. The sun wouldn’t set for another half hour or so and he wanted to make the most of what they had left in the day.

So did the rest of the Auckland population it seemed. Cars were flooding into the area, people starting to stream into office buildings.

“So, Federal Street?”

“Len, what’s going on down there?” he asked, jabbing a finger down at the street below.

“Sorry?”

He and Len watched, dumbfounded as the office buildings lit up one by one, lights turning on and off again mere minutes later.

“Mr Tracy! Mr Van Zyl!”

“Charlotte, what is it? What’s happening?”

“Oh, Scott, I mean, Mr Tracy, sorry sir.”

“Charlotte. Take a breath,” commanded Scott, letting the authority of Thunderbird One bleed into his voice. “Tell us what’s happened.”

Charlotte shook her head, her hand creeping up over her mouth. She handed him her tablet.

“It’s a civil defence lockdown, effective midnight.”

A cold dread crept up Scott’s spine.

“Tonight?!”

Len pulled out a comm beside him and started dialling. The person on the other end picked up at the first ring, and dimly Scott could hear her calm, measured voice transmitted through the device.

“Can I help?” he asked, still staring at the stark words on the page.

“I… uh... help? Sir?”

“With the civil defence response, with the company, I don’t know!” He looked up, desperation in his eyes. “What can I do to help?”

Charlotte shook her head, pressing her lips together tightly.

“Mr Tracy, we have an isolation response in place, at your father’s request. Leave the board to organise the company, you need to get home and…”

“No.”

Charlotte’s voice pitched up a near octave.

“Sir, I must insist…”

“There are lockdown protocols on the island as well,” snapped Scott. “I can’t just go home, risk my family, my Grandma.”

She shook her head again.

“You can’t help here. They’ve done it before. It’s Level Three, people will be able to collect gear tomorrow if needed, we’re set up for remote offices and the last thing people need is you dilly-dallying in the top office.”

A loud shrieking alarm pierced through her final words and Scott flinched at the sound.

Len yelped next to him, dropping his comm with a curse.

“Damn emergency alerts, don’t they know the whole country has heard by now? Why do they just SHUT UP!” he bellowed at the still beeping comm. “It’s so unnecessary, the first time we went under, I thought we were about to evacuate for a volcanic eruption. Staying home, it’s hardly an emergency.”

Charlotte did little to hide her scorn, but Scott smothered a smile as he read through the full message.

“Okay, fine,” he said at last. “I can bunker down at the apartment for a few days.”

“Weeks, I’d be prepping for,” interrupted Len. “Hard to say of course, but they keep extending them.”

“You know why we do it,” said Charlotte, coolly.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I have to pretend it’s a holiday like everyone else seems to do.”

“Well, there never was any rest for the wicked, they say,” quipped Scott.

Len barked a sudden laugh.

“You’re alright, Tracy. Shame about how this ended, I’d have liked a bite with you.”

“Well, there’s always next time. Maybe we’ll find time for a shared celebration after all this.”

“My treat, Tracy, my treat,” he said with a chuckle. “Take care now.”

Scott nodded a farewell and turned back to Charlotte.

“You’re going to be fine?”

“I’ll go stay with my Mum,” she said, easily. “She doesn’t like to be in her house alone, and I can’t say I blame her. Holotech’s just not the same as being there, you know?”

“I certainly do,” said Scott, thinking of his brothers, hundreds of kilometres away. “Thank you, Charlotte, I’ll be seeing you.”

“Good luck, Scott.”

***

The downtown apartment was a mere fifteen minute walk from Tracy Tower, but with Charlotte’s words echoing in the back of his mind, the thought of potentially weeks stuck in an incredibly well furnished, yet incredibly unstocked apartment plaguing him, he opted to swing past the local supermarket. Located at the heart of the city, it was never quiet at the best of times but this was unlike anything Scott had ever seen.

The tension in the packed shop was thick as the throng that filled it. Over half the customers were already wearing masks, glaring suspiciously at those who had gone without and Scott self-consciously tugged his rain jacket higher.

Essentials, he thought wildly, just eggs and milk and bread and….

There was no bread. No flour either and the confectionary aisle was already looking sparse. He grabbed a few chocolate bars and threw them in the basket.

“Excuse me,” he said, waving down a frantic and wild-eyed shop assistant. “Do you have any bread out back?”

“No way man, haven’t you heard? Lockdown hits in like three hours, people are going mental.”

“But I don’t have any food at home, I was meant to be flying back tomorrow morning.”

The shop assistant, Ariki as his name badge proclaimed him, grimaced in sympathy.

“That’s hard luck that is. You don’t live in Auckland?”

“No, I don’t. But I won’t be able to get home now either.”

He nodded, like he’d heard it before.

“You’re thinking this is like last year, aren’t you?”

“I, uh, yes.”

“Right,” said Ariki, still nodding along with him. “Right, well it’s not quite the same so don’t stress out. Look, you can still get takeaways this time, we’ll be restocked tomorrow and all the real crazies–” he nodded towards a pair who were arguing over what looked like the last can of baked beans, “–yeah, they’ll be tucked up at home, refusing to take a step outside, it’ll be sweet as.”

Scott stared at him, then looked over at the line snaking through the frozen food aisle, between the meat and dairy and coiling up in the sad looking and so-called fresh produce.

The two chocolate bars and eggs he’s managed to grab hardly seemed worth it at all.

“I can put those back if you want.”

“Yeah,” said Scott, dazedly. “Yeah, thanks that’s be great.”

Ariki smirked a little.

“We’re reopening at seven, yeah? I’ll see you then.”

“Thanks again,” called Scott as he hurried from the shop.

The rain that had been threatening its arrival all weekend was starting to appear, and Scott hurried home, ducking his head down and shoving his hands in his pockets. He knew there’d be enough food for at least his dinner tonight and Ariki was right, he could sort the rest in the morning.

A swipe of his keycard, and he shut out the world with a muffled slam of the door and a sigh.

He shucked off his rain jacket, not bothering to hang it up, and trudged into the kitchen. It wasn’t like there’d be anyone around to complain for a while and he was starving. Lunch, the little afternoon tea nibbles they’d provided, even his last coffee felt like it had been drunken in another life.

Dinner, then finally he’d call home.

He didn’t doubt they already knew what was happening, was probably wondering why he hadn’t called, but none of them had even been swept up in the chaos of lockdown preparations.

He stared blankly in front of the fridge, the cold, bluish light illuminating him in the dark room. The sun had fully set by now, and the last vestiges of twilight had given way to the true, deep night with the onset of rainfall.

His carefully defrosting steak wasn’t on the shelf, and he looked around him in confusion, wondering if he’d accidentally left the meat out on the bench. He was hungry enough that he didn’t think he’d care and his stomach was well practiced at digesting the indigestible, bug and all.

On the kitchen counter was a neat pile: a plate, used utensils and cooking equipment all stacked together, waiting to be washed.

Scott blinked.

“Oh, hey, Scott,” called Gordon’s cheerful voice from behind him.

Scott whirled around, gaping at his younger brother, suddenly in their New Zealand apartment and not where he ought to have been – namely a thousand odd kilometres north east of the kitchen they were standing in.

“Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“You,” Scott shouted, jabbing a finger towards Gordon. “You ate my dinner!”

“Oh, crap.”

Gordon bolted a split second before Scott charged at him, yelling wildly with all his might.

“Scott, I’m sorry, it was – shit, I mean – come on, it was past nine, I thought you’d been out, and I, oh damn, I, Scott, damn it, I’m not dressed.”

“I don’t care, you ate my food, have you seen the grocery stores? It’s absolute chaos, you traitor, you can go out and get me something, put some pants on and move.”

Gordon yelped as he dove over the couch.

“Okay, I can see there’s been some errors in judgement here,” said Gordon, panting. “I’m sorry, Scott, I really am.”

Scott glared.

“Not good enough.” He paused, eyeing Gordon as he cowered behind the sofa. “What are you even doing here?”

“Uh, excuse me?”

“Here. What are you doing in Auckland?”

“Happy birthday to me too, love you bro, congrats on surviving another year.”

“You came to Auckland for your birthday?”

“Yeah.” Gordon sat up cautiously. “Couldn’t exactly see Penny, and it’s not like there’s many other places that will let us in.”

“I thought we counted as a US territory.”

“John cleared it with someone, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Didn’t want to be stuck at home for my birthday. And look how that turned out.”

He did look extraordinarily sorry for himself.

Scott sighed, and reached out a hand.

“Go get some damn pants on,” he grumbled. “And go look for Virgil’s emergency snacks, I know he stores them everywhere.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it, don’t you dare come back unless you bring me food.”

Gordon snorted.

“Sure, wouldn’t want to provoke the wrath of a starving Scooter.”

Scott jerked his body towards Gordon, and smirked as he bolted up the stairs towards the bedrooms, before sinking down into the cushions and closing his eyes.

The comm beeped gently, a stark contrast from the blaring alert from earlier.

“Hey,” he said, opening an eye as Virgil was projected in front of him.

“Tell me you’re not–”

“Oh, I am.”

“Gordon too?”

“Yep.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it.”

They were both quiet for few seconds, thinking about how rapidly the world had seemed to shift around them.

“I suppose it’s only for a few days,” began Virgil, but Scott was already shaking his head.

“We gotta do the full two weeks. After that, we ought to be able to clear an exit with the harbourmaster and the coast guard, even if it’s not over, but we can’t come back earlier. The only reason we could move freely before without our helmets is because–”

“Preaching to the choir, Scott. I get it.”

“You gonna be alright without us?”

Virgil shrugged. “Rescues are down what with more people staying at home. Alan and I can handle the small change, and Kayo’s been itching for some POD practice recently. We’ll manage. Besides, you’re the one stuck with Gordon.”

“Hey!”

“Food,” growled Scott and Gordon threw a muesli bar and a tube of M&Ms at him.

“Is that mine?”

“Gordon ate my dinner and the shops were out of everything,” grumbled Scott. “Blame him.”

“It’s my birthday, I don’t deserve this.”

“Cry me a river.”

“Alright, don’t kill each other before the two weeks is up. John’s already organised a betting pool, don’t give him the satisfaction of winning again, he’ll be insufferable.”

“Oh, he’s on,” said Gordon, grinning. “Tell him I put fifty bucks on Scott tipping me out of bed or off the couch by the end of the week.”

“Got it.”

“You can’t bet against us,” said Scott, mumbling around the chocolate. “I thought you were on my side.”

“You tried to murder me over a steak.”

“The jury would have never convicted.”

“Okay, I can see you two are going to have a fun time,” said Virgil, loudly over their bickering. “See you in two weeks.”

He didn’t wait for a response. After all, two weeks was a smidge outside even his patience.

#scott tracy #thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #sometimes i fic

20 notes · View notes

lady-of-all-cards · 4 years

Text

Ikemen Revolution: Alternate Ending (Lancelot Kingsley)

One-Shot Statistics: Pages: 5 Word Count: 2312 Characters: 12843 Characters (without spaces): 10593

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Characters: Lancelot Kingsley, Jonah Clemence, Edgar Bright, Zero, Luka Clemence (Mentioned), Alice the Second (Mentioned), Amon Jabberwock. Pairings: Lancelot Kingsley/Main Character Summary: What would have happened if Alice made it home on the fateful night? Would anyone come to his rescue, or would he die atop the tower fulfilling his one true ambition…?

Notes: SPOILERS!This is an alternate universe based on the event that Alice the Second managed to return home the night of the full moon. All character credit goes to Cybrid Entertainment, and if you haven’t already, I highly recommened you download Ikemen Revolution and experience Lancelot’s Route and the original ending for yourself.

After a fateful goodbye, Jonah let the smile fade from his lips. He had truly thought Alice was the answer to their struggles, to their strife, but in the end, she had just been another fleeting hope, another victim of a long list of broken dreams…

Shaking the thought from his head, Jonah straightened his back and, although it was more and more painful after every step, began to make his way from the back of the Garden, through the quaint tea party setting and down the stoned marble stairs of the Civic Center.

He slipped out the back, closer towards home, to avoid any Black Army scouts. It would soon be time for the two armies to finally clash, to bring five-hundred years of peaceful strife to an end in blood, sweat and tears. He swore by his crimson blood that he would faithfully serve his king, so why did the thought of cutting down the enemy, of running a red river through Cradle, hurt him so much?

Shaking his head, he made his way over to Edgar, who seemed strangely… off guard, or at least distracted by his pocket watch he was staring at so intently. It was usual for him to be so out of it, but as the elder Clemence drew closer, his subordinate muttered a question, letting it hang on the wind and drift to his commander.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk, Jonah?” Jonah had barely heard him, and at first thought he had misheard the Crimson Jack, and graced him with an expression marred with confusion, but he wasn’t given a chance to voice his question before Edgar continued. “Because, freedom soars on raven wings.”

“What on earth are you going on about now?” Jonah stressed, motioning widely with his arms, hitting his sides as if it would somehow push his point further.

“Our fearless King hasn’t shown up yet, Jonah. What is our army without him? Burnt out blood with hopeless intentions. Something is off about this whole thing and I don’t know what it is. I don’t like not knowing things.” His index finger closed the lid of the watch as he deftly slipped back into his pocket. Edgar’s gaze tracked the foggy street ahead, as if expecting something to crawl out and take down their entire army in one fell swoop.

“I mean… it is strange for King Lancelot to not be around… Has he not told you anything? I doubt he would leave us in the dark about anything relating to the war.” Jonah’s voice was uneasy as he looked over the army stood at attention at his side.

“Zero seemed a little off this morning, too. I thought it was because he was still recovering, but now I’m not so sure. I haven’t seen him since our march began either. He was commanding at the back of the army, but he should have-”

“Edgar!”

“There he is.” The Jack turned to the rush of horse hooves, and Zero jumped from his horse just before the mare reared in front of them. There wasn’t a break in the movements, and both his commanders were impressed with the fluid movements he had displayed.

“Zero! Have you seen King Lancelot?” Jonah near-begged for an answer, ignoring Edgar. However, the painful contort of Zero’s expression made more panic course through him.

“There’s no time- we need to get to the Magic Tower. That’s where King Lancelot is.” Zero breathed, mounting his steed once again, shifting in the saddle and giving his two commanders an urgent look.

“What’s going on? What do you mean King Lancelot’s at the Magic Tower?!” Jonah demanded, his panic now arising in his voice, but Edgar’s following question seemed more prevalent.

“Zero… who attacked you and Alice that day?” The Ace’s expression and resounding silence answered Edgar better than any words could. Edgar jogged over to two tethered horses, unhitched them both and handed one set of reins to Jonah.

“We have to move quickly. The attack can wait until we find out what on earth is going on!” Jonah commanded, mounting the horse Edgar had led over.

There were no more words passed between them as they all urged their steeds to the Southern forest. The moon floating in the night sky showed it’s full face, illuminating the faint trail they followed.

“We’re nearly there. We should be able to see the Tower soon.” Jonah called over the wind to the two men backing him. “Stay on your guard.”

“Wait, Jonah–” Edgar spurred his horse on and grabbed the reins of Jonah’s horse, pulling them back and subsequently slowing them both down. Zero reined his horse in seeing them both slowing down.

“Edgar, what’s wrong?” Jonah asked, squinting at the treeline.

“What are they doing here?” Was the Jack’s reply, motioning to the shadowy figures moving through the line of trees just ahead of them. The words drifted to the trio from afar.

“We need to hurry.”

“Yes. We must be there to see the end of the armies so we can report it to Lord Amon.”

“This will be a night for the history books! We’re about to witness the closing chapter of five-hundred years of conflict!”

“Sounds like they’re off to watch the battle as if it were a sporting event.” Jonah’s hushed whisper was dark, and full of anger.

“Jonah. Look.” Zero stressed, and what once was a few disciples in the forest turned into hordes of shadows. “What’ll we do if they spot us?”

“We’re supposed to be preparing for battle. If they find us here, they suspect something’s up and it’ll all be over for us…” Jonah responded, scrambling to form a plan to avoid a confrontation.

“We can’t let that happen.” Edgar chuckled jovially despite the situation. “It’ll take longer to get to the Tower, but I think we should take a detour.” The other two didn’t see any other way, and nodded in agreement, adjusting their steeds to skirt around the cloaked men, urging their horses into gallops.

As they raced through the forest with its glow of natural Magic Crystals. Jonah glanced back. It appeared they had avoided detection, and just as he was about to breathe a sigh or relief–

“Like a moth to a flame. Isn’t that the saying?” Jonah gasped and pulled back harshly on the reins, his horse rearing as his accompanying subordinates fell into place beside him. A man in a deep hood blocked their path. “I just got word from my fellow disciples. Seems they found fresh hoofprints on the ground.” The Disciple of Magic held a Magic Crystal up to his mouth, using it like some sort of communication device. “I found the trespassers. It’s the Queen and Jack of Hearts, oh, and our failed experiment zero.”

Jonah took the unguarded moment to try break off and continue the urgent journey, but before he could turn the horse, a bright flash covered their sights, and they were suddenly surrounded by cloaked men wielding Magic Crystals.

“Strange night for a joyride. Once we have you tied up, you can tell us all about what you had planned.” A menacing smile flashed from deep within the man’s hood. “Capture them! And eliminate them if they put up too much of a fight.”

“Yes, sir!”

Jonah drew his sword, swinging his blade as gracefully as a butterfly.

“Gr!”

Jonah single-handedly cut down one disciple after another, protecting his men from their magic and blades, but there seemed to be no end to them.

“Where are they all coming from?!” He stressed, reining back in line with Zero and Edgar. Jonah paused only for an instant, but he saw a flash through the air at that same moment.

“I have you now! Die, Queen of Hearts!” Before Jonah had time to parry the blow, something else knocked the disciple’s sword away.

“That was close, huh, Jonah?” Edgar threw a gentle smile over his shoulder as he pushed the disciple back.

“Don’t back down! Get him– urgh!” The man who had been shouting crumpled to the ground in silence.

“You let a ghost from your past sneak up on you. Never drop your guard when facing military men.” Zero warned in triumph. The remaining men inched towards them cautiously.

“There’s one thing that’s clear; these guys are the enemy. Queen. Get out of here.” Edgar ordered, straightening in his saddle.

“But, Edgar–”

“Go and do whatever it is you’re supposed to do.” Edgar said, effectively cutting Jonah off, giving him the gentlest smile he could have possibly mustered, hoping it offered him some comfort.

“When I count down from three– turn your horse to the South-West and make a break for it.” Zero added, rolling his shoulders.

“Got it.” Jonah spoke curtly, giving them a single nod. “But don’t die. That’s an order from your queen.”

“We’ll do our best.” Edgar assured.

“Don’t worry. Even if they kill us, Edgar and I won’t die.” It didn’t make sense, but it was still a nice sentiment. Jonah was worried for them, but he knew he had to push forward. The disciples were glaring at the trio, weighing the situation. They knew they would attack again as soon as they took another step. “Ready?”

“Yes.” Jonah whispered, looking at his target direction.

“Three, two, one– Go!” At Zero’s command, Jonah kicked his horse into a gallop.

“Don’t let him escape!” Jonah fought the urge to look back, staring straight ahead through the trees. He just had to trust in them, and believe they would be safe.

The dense trees eventually began to grow sparse as Jonah reached the edge of the forest. Jonah gasped as the Magic Tower came into view. Dark, thundering clouds around its peak. It was clear something was happening at the Tower’s peak, so he quickly reined the horse to a stop and scrambled to find a way inside, but the tower was supported only by smooth, round pillars. No doors.

A hazy glow beyond one of the pillars caught Jonah’s attention- it was a spiral staircase that spiraled up to the top floor. They seemed to float in midair as they climbed the incredible height of the tower. A fall from those would mean certain death, but he couldn’t let that stop him. He knew that Lancelot was at the top of this tower. He was fighting all by himself. Jonah nodded resolutely to himself, then took his first step onto the staircase that floated in the darkness.

He held his head up high, even though the urge to look down was strong, but a sudden gust of wind made him feel like he might get blown off at any moment. A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead, but he steeled his resolve, and looked behind him.

“Oh no…” He breathed.

“Capture the intruder!” Men in hoods were filling up the stairs after him. “Get him!” The men took out Magic Crystals, which sent an ominous light swirling towards him. Jonah swung his sword in a delicate arch, deflecting the spell away from him. “Keep attacking!”

Jonah took a deep breath, tightening the grip on his saber. The actions were purposeful, and he leapt forward suddenly.

“I don’t have time for this!” He stressed, twisting at last second and elbowing a disciple, causing him to knock back into two other disciples and sent them both over the side of the stairs. Without missing a beat, Jonah twisted on his foot, delivering a merciless kick to a disciple behind him.

What followed could only be described as a dance, with the valiant Queen of Hearts struggling against his opponents, but effortlessly deflecting the spells and warding off his assailants. He was as poised and as graceful as ever, and the fight couldn’t have ended any quicker for him…

After it did end, however, he didn’t even take a moment to stop. He continued to bolt up the stairs, his saber and bloodied uniform glistening in the moonlight.

He thrust his entire body into the door at the very top of the stairs, causing it to slam open violently, stumbling to his knees from the sudden absence, but it was the sight he saw that held him frozen in place…

A badly wounded man dressed in purple slowly stood from where he had been laying, chuckling deeply as he caught sight of Jonah’s broken figure.

“You’re too late, Queen of Hearts. Your King is dead! And Cradle is all mine!” His laugh was straight up maniacal, and it only fueled Jonah’s anger and pain as he clenched his teeth. “Submit to me, Queen, and I may just spare your life.” Amon received no answer from Jonah, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. In fact, his smile grew, the sickening grin flashing in the dull light of the crystals. “Join me, Jonah, or your brother’s life is forfeit.”

That did it. Amon didn’t have a chance to react. How could he? A being full of rage, brimming with emotion, was something he could never fathom, and in consequence, the sharpened saber of the Queen of Hearts was driven straight through the Leader of the Magic Tower.

Amon, with what little strength remained, grabbed Jonah’s hand, trying to pry it away, trying to free himself from the weapon, but Jonah had snapped, and drove the saber deeper through him, twisting it mercilessly.

The scorn of Cradle had been defeated, but not without stealing the dear life of Lancelot Kingsley, the fearless King of Hearts, the valiant head of the proud Crimson Army. The truth of his actions were only ever known to the Queen of Hearts, told through the inky black words of the letter he left by Jonah’s door…

The sun rose that day, but it’s light was snuffed out by heavy storm clouds…

#ikemen revolution #lancelot kingsley #jonah clemence #edgar bright #zero (ikemen revolution)#amon jabberwock #alice the second (mentioned)#luka clemence (mentioned)#alternate ending

27 notes · View notes

punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Dash & Lux

Dash: ☀️🧙🏽‍♀️🎶🥁🎸🪕🧚🏿‍♂️🌿🌼🧚🔮💃💫🔥🕺🏻🌳💗🍯🍻

Lux: That is almost exactly what the inside of my head looks like right now!!!

Lux: Is mind-reading a power that is bestowed upon you believers this eve?! 🤔😲

Dash: Right on

Dash: it’s one of many, trust

Lux: I’m ever sadder I can only be an observer now

Lux: Telepathy would be the most useful!

Dash: you gotta open your 👀 at least twice

Lux: I can 👀 at it, all of it in its splendour, just not participate

Dash: Bummer! What’s got you backing off? You don’t look like no wallflower chick to me

Lux: I got the dress code 🌻🌻🌻

Lux: Sunflowers are so strong-looking for flowers, don’t you think?

Lux: Not dainty and delicate

Lux: Well, I’m a Christian and technically this is a Pagan ritual so it’s a big 🚫🚫

Lux: I am finding it super interesting though

Dash: they don’t look strong, they are, babe 🌻🌻🌻 cleaned up Chernobyl, it’s far out what they can do

Dash: its roots, yeah, but we’re not all pagans here & we all still find something to celebrate, you could do St John the Baptist’s birthday as a christian, bonfires were big for that too

Lux: Whaaaaaaaaaat????! TELL ME MORE

Dash: about 🌻🌻🌻 or 🎂🔥🎇🎆?

Lux: 🌻🌻🌻 birthdays are contentious too

Dash: Helianthus annuus, from the Greek helios, meaning ☀️ they can remove poisonous chemicals & metals from the ground, water or air

Dash: they spread rapidly & can stabilize if not totally clear a field in 3 years, it’s 🤯

Lux: I wish I’d gone to school

Lux: Do you know any more fascinating things?

Lux: That sounds like magic

Dash: the world’s full of magic, but it wasn’t school that taught me to recognize it

Lux: Share the secret, kind sir

Dash: you’ve got the 🔑 & this here’s your kingdom, all you have to do is hang out & stay hip to what you 👀👂👃👅

Dash: 🧠➡️⬅️⬆️⬇️↗️↘️↙️↖️↪️↩️⤴️⤵️

Lux: I’ve 👅 so many wondrous tastes today

Lux: I feel full in so many senses of the word

Lux: How long have you been a member of the kingdom, stranger?

Dash: quest accepted to lay that feeling on you in every sense, then it’ll be a rad celebration

Dash: I’ve been here since I could walk, everywhere else is too big a drag to keep me

Lux: Oh, that’s so kind!

Lux: Everyone is so open and willing to teach me things

Lux: For instance, quick, when’s your birthday, wolf boy

Dash: it’s that kinda space 🦊

Dash: 20th of January 🎂 got me on the cusp ♑♒

Lux: Twins!

Lux: My birthday, which I’ve never celebrated before, is the 20th of March 😱

Lux: Someone, I’m not sure who, was just telling me about the Celtic tree signs

Lux: ‘If you were born in the month of the birch, you probably have a fresh and unusual outlook on life. People born under this Celtic tree astrology sign tend to be highly driven and are always full of zeal and ambition. They always want more and try to reach new horizons and expand their knowledge. Some of the characteristics attributed to the Birch sign are tolerance, toughness, and leadership. The Birch signs can brighten a room with their smile and quickly charm other people’

Lux: Yay or nay 🐺

Dash: you charmed so far or nah? [obviously smiling at her wherever she is as well like heyyy]

Lux: [definition of this emoji 🤭]

Dash: What’s your celtic tree sign?

Lux: ‘Those born under the Alder sign are natural pathfinders. They have the ability to move people and quickly gain followers to their cause. The Alders have a way with words, mingle easily and people love to be around them. They possess a mystic charisma, confidence and strong self-faith. Other character traits are: a good focus on goals and ideas, can’t tolerate fluff and waste.’

Lux: I am unsure but flattered 😊😊😊

Dash: I dig it

Dash: they let you know if we’re compatible? Your ♓♈ cusp makes you mad desirable to all signs

Lux: You need to see who here was born 15th April to 12th May or 2nd September to 29th September

Lux: But it says I’m compatible with you, so how does that work?! 😣

Lux: There’s so much I have to get my head ‘round

Dash: You’re gonna be 🥰💖 for me while I’m 🔍 for a 🐈 or 🐤 born on those dates?

Lux: Hey, that’s way less nice!

Lux: but I can also be looking for people born 13th May to 9th June AND 10th June to 7th July so 😋

Dash: those signs are full of it, trying to make me look uncool but don’t sweat it, I’d never cut you that low, like

Lux: If it’s not in the 💫s I can still say I’m pleased to meet you today as friends, Mowgli

Dash: Look up

Dash: if you don’t see a 🌠 I can show you a 🐺🌟 & 🦊🌟 chasing each other across the sky

Lux: [obviously literally does]

Lux: That’s very Disney 🏰✨

Dash: is that allowed?

Lux: I watched some at a friend’s house one time

Dash: & how was it?

Lux: 😭 but romantic

Dash: Anyone told you the oak king story yet?

Lux: Okay, thank Goodness

Lux: this lady with the dreads and the big back tattoo tried to tell me but I couldn’t understand her 🙊

Lux: Redeem your gentlemanly reputation and save both of us the embarrassment

Lux: Her accent was wild! 🤯

Dash: did her version start with Fadó, fadó?

Dash: wouldn’t be a wild guess

Lux: I won’t credit you with any telepathic skills this time, then

Lux: also I’d need to 👂 it again to confirm fully but yes, I think so

Dash: [send her an utterly unnecessary voice memo]

Lux: It sounds more intriguing when you say it

Dash: [obviously gotta tell her the full story in an irish voice memo purely for the #flex and the flirt cos you know damn well you’re gonna have to translate it, boy]

Lux: 🤩

Lux: Did you learn that here too?

Lux: I’ve lived so many different places and yet I only know the one language

Dash: My ma started it but when the establishment took over it was a bad scene & turned me off for time, last few years here it felt groovy again having that connection & I refound the 💚☘️

Lux: It’s really cool

Lux: it sounds old, or like elvish or something else not real

Dash: it’s a trip, you’ve gotta get someone to teach you while your fly by lasts

Lux: Oh, I live here 😊

Lux: I room with Nora, do you know her?

Dash: Beats me, what’s her deal?

Lux: Her and her brother Finley have been here for a while, but not forever like you

Lux: but there are a lot of people here so I’m not surprised you’re not sure 😅

Dash: not a clue but loads of people are too rattled to wanna get involved, could be her vibe

Dash: or she just ain’t outta sight like you

Lux: She’s totally involved, she secured like all of the sunflowers for today

Lux: well, me and Amber helped but she was definitely the most enthusiastic

Dash: 🌻👑! I do know her, but her in with Amber & instant karma means she’s not gonna mess around with me

Lux: Ooh, what did you do

Dash: jack, Amber’s hassling me cos I’m not trying to be her old man, she gets super rash & things get heavy with 0 slack

Lux: Hmm I shouldn’t have asked 🤐🙉

Dash: ask her why she’s making a move on my older bro now if not to try & lay a trip on me, babe’s lost it

Lux: Whaaaaaaa

Lux: You have a brother?!

Lux: Is he invisible?

Dash: I wish

Lux: Which one is he, point him out

Dash: [points in the direction of their house lol]

Lux: [a face of understanding like oh okay]

Lux: How does Amber know him then?

Dash: from stalking me

Lux: I don’t think she would do that

Lux: She must’ve just bumped into him or something

Dash: at my house, yeah

Lux: It’s cool, it’s not really my business

Dash: open 👀 like I said

Lux: 📖

Dash: that too 🧠💗🤲

Lux: I can agree with that sentiment

Dash: we’re groovy then

Lux: Of course 😊

Lux: enjoy your evening

Dash: back at you, golden girl ☀️🎇👸🏼

Lux: I like your outfit too

Lux: it’s very ☀️🧙🏽‍♀️🎶🥁🎸🪕🧚🏿‍♂️🌿🌼🧚🔮💃💫🔥🕺🏻🌳💗🍯🍻

Dash: [comes over and ties a chain of flowers around her wrist like it’s a friendship bracelet energy]

Lux: [clearly delighted with this]

Dash: [ask her if she wants to dance even though you know damn well she’s only observing because kind of boy you are]

Lux: [so rude lowkey when she’s struggling so hard with what she does and doesn’t believe now, we’re in enough of a dilemma without your help but there we go; thus we will go dance with you because we do want to and we can make arguments that that isn’t joining in with the rituals of it all]

Dash: [he’s lucky Amber is busy because she would fight him, but instead enjoy your dance you two]

Lux: [the audacity of your lies about her, we were so awkward like 😬 anyway, we will have a nice dance though]

Dash: [such a dickhead he can only be humbled by fire, full offense Nora because we’re ignoring you hen cos you’re clearly wise to his bs]

Lux: [there’s clearly a growing group of gals who are unimpressed by your nonsense and that will be interesting to navigate]

Dash: [Definitely, but yeah probably do slip away like a snek before any of those gals do kick your ass]

Lux: 🎃👠🐁🌠🕛

Dash: A 📘 for the 🔥

Lux: 🤔?

Dash: it’s a drag, all that heavy shit with her fam is a bummer, she gets to split but only til 🕛 that’s some 🌠

Lux: Yeah, it’s enough to get help though and then she gets saved

Dash: nah, to get shafted, she don’t get to dance with anyone else there, it’s a scam

Lux: 😅 who else does she need, she’s got the prince, silly!

Dash: someone who recognizes her next day?

Lux: Touche 😏

Lux: Being a 🤴 is a lot of work

Dash: What 🤴 told you that?

Lux: Where to begin

Lux: I’ve known several who would say as much and the 👸s would never disagree

Dash: Fadó, fadó, fadó a bhí ann…

Dash: but I’d shut it down from the beginning, they gotta be shining you on

Lux: I’m going to have to have translate open constantly, I see 😰

Lux: but very noble

Dash: I try, like you & your ☘️ it’s chill we’ve all got your back

Lux: It would be way worse if it was the only language any of you spoke

Lux: thank goodness 😅

Lux: there’s lots more that’s more pertinent for me to get a grip on

Dash: 🧝🧝🏻‍♀️🧝🏽🧝🏾‍♀️

Dash: we’ve got you on the rest too, like, goes without saying

Lux: Most everyone has been super welcoming

Dash: how long have you lived here?

Lux: Not long enough that that’s insulting 😋

Lux: but gosh, a couple of weeks? Must be

Dash: nah I meant cos I don't wanna explain to you what sorta place this is like you're fresh through the door if you've had loads of time to find your own way

Lux: Oh no, I’m a total n00b

Lux: Hazel got me here but I’ve kinda just been left to it since

Lux: Anything you wanna tell me would be appreciated

Dash: did Amber or Nora give you the tour?

Lux: Amber’s been super busy and Nora likes to stay in our room mostly

Dash: not super welcoming

Dash: but it’s no sweat, I’ll show you round, we’ll have a blast

Lux: they’ve both got their own stuff going on, I don’t expect them to drop it for me

Lux: but that would still be cool, thank you!

Dash: say when

Dash: it’ll be as electric under the ☀️ as the 🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌙

Lux: I can 👀 in the dark

Lux: You choose

Lux: find me when you’ve stopped having the MOST fun?

Dash: 🐺🐾🦊

Dash: Meet me in the orchard at midnight, ditching your shoes before

Dash: there’s an 🍏🌳🍎 you can 👀 the whole farm from the top of

Lux: And you’ll remember what I look like?

Dash: you look unreal

Dash: unforgettable

Lux: I got creative with the arts and crafts 🌟⚡️☀️

Lux: I’ve always made my own clothes

Lux: well, I made them for my sisters before

Lux: looking unforgettable was not the end goal there though

Lux: that was for secret

Dash: my nan would be hip to you, she used to make her own clothes, for her girl & her sister too when they wanted, it’s still a vibe for her

Lux: I will make her something then

Lux: what’s her style?

Dash: indescribable

Dash: I’ll show you pics

Lux: Awkward if your nan is cuter than you

Dash: at our age she totally was

Lux: Awh, you’re so sweet

Lux: I have nothing nice to say about my meemaw

Dash: keep it for mine when you meet her

Lux: You’re gonna introduce me to your nan? 😊

Dash: right on, she’ll wanna put whatever you make on for you to 👀 & it’s only a few fields over

Lux: 🏞 it’s a crazy beautiful spot to live, that’s for sure

Lux: so you live with her?

Dash: Yeah, my ma grew up there & when my parents called it quits she wanted to move back

Lux: You’re close-knit

Lux: that’s special

Dash: closer than I am to my da

Lux: Does that upset you?

Dash: I don’t let it upset my equilibrium, he’s uptight, that’s his problem not mine

Lux: I understand

Lux: I don’t agree with my dad on a lot of things

Lux: it’s still sad though

Dash: I got killer people round me, a 2nd family here accepting me for who I am, it ain’t cool he don’t, but they give me what I need

Lux: I’m happy for you

Lux: Seriously

Lux: again, that’s special, you should be really grateful

Dash: I am, believe me

Dash: you’re gonna scope out how special it is here now I’m in charge of showing you everything

Lux: I’d love to see your 🌍 how you see it

Lux: Kinda sounds like everything I need, honestly

Dash: you can, easily when we’re sharing a branch

Lux: 🧚‍♀️ you’re dainty, I trust you won’t let me fall

Dash: I’ll let you fall into something good though, new heights

Lux: Will it hurt?

Dash: no way

Lux: You aren’t pranking me, are you?

Dash: there’s no plastic on me, I’m being real with you

Lux: If you’re gonna try and jump me out in the orchard I’ll have to show you crazy and I really can’t afford to lose this place okay

Lux: so if I believe you right now and you were lying, it’ll be worse than it would’ve been, you feel me?

Dash: Hurting you isn’t my action, I’m about a gentler touch than that

Lux: and I’m not a bully, that’s not my vibe so that’s the warning out of the way

Dash: avenging 👼 I get it

Lux: My costume has you fooled, I think

Dash: Wait, so you’re pranking me?

Lux: No, I swear! 😅

Lux: I don’t feel like I’ve been anywhere near as nice to you as you have to me though

Dash: but you did dance with me & that was choice

Lux: I wanted to

Dash: me too, I wasn’t asking just to be nice

Lux: even though you’re very nice

Lux: I believe that

Dash: I think we’re getting somewhere

Lux: You understand why I’d find a boy like you being interested in me dubious at first, right

Dash: Nah, but I’m listening

Lux: Well it’s embarrassing to say

Dash: alright, listen, I think you’re the most

Dash: I’m embarrassed I’ve not met you before tonight

Lux: There are so many people to meet

Lux: and you’re like the 🤴 of this place, huh

Lux: you have to dance with all the ugly stepsisters too

Dash: if Amber said write that to bait me I’m shutting up

Lux: I think Amber left 🤔

Lux: And who’s calling her ugly, even if you guys have beef, like no way

Dash: & Nora’s gotta be back in your room cos that’s her bag, yeah?

Dash: so where are you?

Lux: I’m in the middle of [one hippie activity] and [another]

Dash: [go find her and dance with her again obvs, we can be bolder about if some of the haters are gone and it’s later so he’s clearly a bit more drunk/high by now too]

Lux: [the way you’re probably sober like how lmao, not saying you always are or will be ‘cos no but gotta have our wits about us ‘cos witchery is afoot; but yeah we all know it can shamelessly way more of a Thing™]

Dash: [at least Amber was too until her row with the bae even if she wasn’t the most present in other ways, so it wasn’t just you gal, but yeah, dispel any remaining fears she may have that you’re not into this please boy with this moment]

Lux: [we know you got your own going on, it’s good, this drama has to happen whether you like it or not babe sorryyyy, when you’re then even more into it because it’s like HELLO IS THIS ALLOWED, so new and fresh to get to remotely be this brazen]

Dash: [shouldn’t LOVE that for you but I do, we should probably let y’all go on your tour then because we’re both in a mood and there’s nobody to separate you]

Lux: [probably, but I will insist on making you wait ‘til midnight regardless]

Dash: [it is a fat mood and I did pick that time deliberately so yeah, dance the night away first hens]

Lux: [sure it’s probably near that time anyways]

Dash: [yeah absolutely]

Lux: [we can skip to the after in this if you like?]

Dash: [are we thinking am like did y’all fall asleep together or?]

Lux: [Hmm, do we go with the Cinderella and have her bounce or do we go against it and not, because then she would think he wasn’t a dick later]

Dash: [even though he’s a dick I still want all the cute I can grab with my smol hands]

Lux: [it’s not like you can’t be like I just fell asleep it’s nbd with it so yeah okay

Dash: [I also like the camber parallel of it all so]

Lux: [true true, we can do it, then you can just have breakfast as a group because duh, was it sunday or monday today?]

Dash: [I think it’s sunday aka Cosmo is having his 2nd date with Ruby tonight and then Camber breakfast dates start monday]

Lux: [okay then you will have to think of a creative way to ditch her then boy hohaha]

Dash: [at least he can just go home because Amber only stayed to angrily eat some fruit and Cosmo had a busy day ahead because I doubt the shower situation at this commune is thriving, water probably runs out always]

Lux: [what a poser lmaooo]

Dash: [and very rude not to invite her when she probably wants to shower or bathe too]

Lux: [we literally got gems stuck to our face but pop off]

Dash: [we know you’re not because your mother is there and sick of your behaviour but yes, it wouldn’t kill you to let her boy]

Lux: [no offence but run him over, anyway, some time later]

Lux: are you ⬇️🍄?

Dash: 🛹⚡️

Lux: aha, cool

Lux: good thing you didn’t invite me I’d end up 🤕 for sure

Dash: I didn’t stop you falling out of a tree last night to have you fall off a board later in the AM

Lux: Hey, you make it sound like I was 🤏 close! 😆

Dash: nah, your balance is sound

Lux: I don’t recall you stepping on my toes, either

Dash: don’t wanna have to start the day off doubting your 🍒 recall, that’d be a bad scene

Lux: I was totally sober thank you 😅

Dash: easy to claim the magic’s all you when I ain’t met you before but I’m a believer

Lux: Wait, was that a compliment or a diss?

Lux: Maybe I’m contact-wasted

Dash: contact with Nora would get you more sober, there’s a diss

Lux: Awh, don’t be mean!

Lux: She’s been really nice

Dash: chill out, I’m only playing

Lux: Hmm 😏

Lux: anyway, what are you doing later?

Dash: I said I’d hang with Yara

Lux: Oh cool, who’s that?

Dash: I’ll introduce you after

Lux: after what?

Dash: we’re done messing around

Lux: wow, alrighty then

Dash: you’ll like her, she’s a trip

Lux: I’m not totally sure she’d want you to 💬 that

Lux: or I’ll know what to 💬 now

Dash: it’s no biggie

Lux: idk, this is not the way I was raised

Lux: you say it’s not but idk, you know

Dash: you don’t have to meet her

Lux: Yeah

Dash: I think she’s rad but you gotta make up your own mind

Lux: It’s not about her

Dash: nah, you, I understand where you’re coming from, it’s a new world

Lux: Right, it seems really icky to me that you’d tell me any of this

Lux: it’s not about how rad she could be

Dash: Come on, Lux, I’m keeping this honest

Lux: I guess

Lux: Why do you need to tell me though, I don’t get it, for real?

Dash: I like you, I don’t want it to get twisted

Dash: 📖

Lux: Okay, I appreciate the sentiment then

Dash: I’ll come find you later, on my own

Lux: That’s okay

Lux: I’ve got lots of chores to catch up on

Dash: they’ll be done faster if I help you

Lux: I can’t stop you

Lux: the place is a mess after last night and the more people who pitch in the better

Dash: I don’t get why you’d wanna stop me

Lux: I don’t really wanna hang out now, not today anyway

Dash: I can’t believe you’re being like this

Lux: Being like what?

Dash: Amber

Lux: I’m not

Lux: you can’t hang out now, I can’t hang out later, how is it any different?

Dash: the way I’m travelling through today is a straight line, yours is all over the place

Lux: Good for you?

Lux: It doesn’t matter either way though

Dash: doing a u turn on me does matter

Lux: It does?

Lux: because last night you thought I was rad, so obviously this morning I wanted to hang out with you again, so I think it’s my turn to do the 180, if you think about it

Dash: I still think you are, last night was unreal & we can be again, I’m just asking you to take 5 cos I can’t split on Yara after making plans time ago

Lux: That’s fine, it’s not fine to be mad at me ‘cos I ask you to take 5 too

Lux: that makes it make no sense

Dash: I’m not mad at you, I’m trying to make sense of why you’re mad at me

Lux: I’m not mad at you, I’m upset

Lux: You only need to ask

Dash: idk I didn’t think this would go down how it is

Lux: Me either, I guess

Dash: you for real want space?

Lux: I don’t know

Lux: Can I get back to you on that?

Dash: yeah

Lux: I wanted to see you again

Lux: I thought you’d want to see me too

Dash: I do, you read me right last night, why are you gonna start disbelieving yourself today?

Lux: You want to see Yara more

Dash: I wanna see her too

Lux: Okay, have fun then

Dash: we cool?

Lux: I don’t know

Dash: idk what's turned you different, you were laying it on me like you got it, how I'm

like royalty & everyone wants a piece of my time

Lux: Oh my Gosh

Lux: I wasn’t being serious and I didn’t think you were

Lux: do you honestly think that, like what?

Dash: It's a touch plastic saying I'm like 👑 but still close to how it is

Lux: Um, you don’t even live here

Lux: you have a whole house and family

Dash: I'm here with my chosen family as much as I can be

Lux: Yeah, but what do you

actually do for this place, or anyone here?

Lux: The audacity to act like it’s your kingdom, that’s laughable and gross all at once

Dash: back off babe, I do whatever they need me to do

Lux: Babe-ing me right now isn’t a good look

Lux: manual labour at best makes you help, not visiting royalty

Lux: are you crazy, like, who do you think you are, seriously I’m so curious

Dash: Who are you? Thinking you can lay this trip on me about what I can & can't do

Lux: I’m not telling you you can or can’t do anything

Lux: I asked you not to call me babe, which is basic politeness

Dash: nah, you're telling me I don't belong to this place

Dash: questioning how I do like

it's up to you

Lux: I said you don’t live here, and you don’t

Lux: and I’ve never seen you contribute, maybe you were super busy before I got here, then I’ll apologize for that

Dash: you're doing a census, yeah? Hold up [everyone currently who doesn't live her like the petty prince he is]

Dash: I've got family here, they all keep me busy

Lux: Cool? Thanks for telling me who else is a tourist ???

Lux: You’re just being defensive, there’s no need if you’re secure in that and your place here

Dash: quit trying to rattle me

Lux: I’m truly not

Lux: but no, we’re not cool now

Dash: I made it known from the top where I live

Lux: Where you live isn’t the issue

Dash: what's your issue? I'm loved & welcomed here, that's all I said

Lux: That’s nice

Lux: I don’t really want to discuss my issue with you, with you, right now, if that’s okay

Dash: later then

Lux: See you around, Dash

Dash: I can't believe you think I'm a flake, this has me totally unglued, you know

Lux: I don’t feel great about it either

Dash: how can I make you feel less bummed out?

Dash: your tour was the most far out I've ever given

Lux: I don’t think you can, it’s done now

Lux: I just need some time to change what I thought this was, or was gonna be, in my head

Lux: but thanks, for offering

Dash: take your time to 👀 what we can be & how you wanna evolve

Lux: Maybe we can be friends later on

Dash: I’d dig it

Lux: I liked talking to you last night

Dash: I felt more connected to you than I usually do

Lux: I don’t think you’re an awful person, FYI

Lux: I just think you could’ve been clearer, and accept that you hurt me without getting way defensive, you know?

Lux: I can accept you didn’t mean to

Dash: I thought I was being clear

Lux: Yeah, I know

Lux: I’m from a very different background and place, it just didn’t translate well, clearly

Dash: yeah

Lux: but I thought I’d put that across well enough that you got that too

Dash: I do get you, but I can’t 180 myself to fit

Lux: No, I’m not asking you to fit my understanding, it’s fine you don’t

Dash: What are you asking?

Lux: Nothing, honestly, I’m trying to explain why I’m upset

Lux: Just like you can’t 180, I can’t change how I see and feel about it immediately, even if some of the ways I were raised are outdated or potentially bad, you know

Lux: You don’t need to do anything

Lux: From my perspective, it felt like a 180 and hurtful to tell me about hooking up with someone else the morning after

Lux: I know how you think and operate is totally different, but that’s it

Dash: but I wanna do something, to help you

Lux: You are nice…

Lux: I don’t know though, what would help?

Dash: I meant what I said last night about showing you this place, making it feel more like a home, how it is for me

Lux: Maybe you could come back and help with the chores

Lux: I shouldn’t have said you NEVER help out, I’ve not been here long enough to make that observation

Dash: maybe it looks like I don’t, cos with family you take liberties sometimes, that kid who’s naughty at home & don’t say shit at school, comfortable to play up

Lux: I have 8 brothers, I understand 😅

Dash: you can have that too, should

Lux: I did, as much as any of us did

Lux: I was a boy, remember

Dash: with 0 limits though, people trying to control & change what you do is for outside of here, I don’t have to think in my dad’s 🟥🟧🟨🟩🟦🟪⬛️⬜️🟫 way or do what my ma reckons is righteous

Lux: Sounds idyllic, Dash

Dash: it is

Lux: You have to understand my experience of people doing exactly what they want means someone is being exploited or abused for that person’s privilege

Lux: my parents had their utopia at the price of the things we wanted, needed

Dash: that’s why you need this new experience

Lux: Okay

Lux: I do want new experiences

Dash: the farm has the magic to grant you whatever you’re here for, no wish is the wrong size

Lux: You really seem to believe it so I will try too 😊

Dash: I’m about to 🛹⚡️ back if you wanna clean the opposite end or hide from me in the 🍏🌳🍎

Lux: That’s cool

Lux: but thanks for the warning 💗

Dash: don’t let how out of this world you look distract me then

Lux: I so don’t so that won’t be an issue 😌

Dash: It's an accident, huh? I feel you, it must be my fault I can’t look away

Lux: You’re way too smooth for your own good

Lux: but I wouldn’t say that’s a fault, necessarily 🤭

Dash: Hey, I didn’t manifest you into being, even if last night did feel like it had to be cosmically devined somehow

Lux: I felt it too

Lux: no one has ever

Lux: not like that anyway

Dash: you’re like a song I can’t get out of my head, I don’t want it to turn sad

Dash: I’m sorry I got you unglued too

Lux: It’s a lot more complicated than just you

Lux: it’s a whole thing

Dash: You’re gonna find people to share how heavy it is

Lux: 🤞

Dash: they’ll carry you through & even if it’s Amber I won’t let it bug me

Lux: I’m sure that’s a misunderstanding

Lux: I could talk to her? Subtly, of course

Dash: yeah, her misunderstanding me, you’ve got your reasons, she’s not new to any of this

Dash: her problem is she thinks she’s the most & everyone else should think she’s choice no matter what

Lux: Do you think she likes your brother?

Dash: no way, unless she’s got a football obsession now too

Lux: 🧲 maybe

Dash: idk

Lux: Me either

Lux: it just seems a bit crazy otherwise

Dash: he’s as uptight as my da, she’s never gonna get nowhere trying to mess around with him, whatever she’s doing it for

Lux: She won’t have any problem finding someone new

Lux: you said he’s older, right?

Dash: not loads, but he’s gonna be done with school in a sec

Lux: I see

Lux: so you’re the 👶

Dash: til my dad’s new lady puts her demands in

Dash: how many sisters you got to go with your 8 bros?

Lux: you don’t like her at all, huh

Lux: and 5, so they had a tough job being outnumbered

Dash: you heard of a WAG? That’s her whole deal

Dash: whoa, so you had a full time secret sewing job

Lux: yes, we lived in England for a while, that’s how I ended up here

Lux: like a Kardashian, I can see you not having a lot to bond over

Lux: exactly 😂

Dash: you gotta teach me, my nan would be jazzed

Lux: I’d love to!

Lux: there’s a surplus of old clothes to practice on

Dash: still a chore, we get to skip cleaning, yeah?

Lux: Mending isn’t as fun as creating but you’ve got to start somewhere so, I think so 😊

Dash: 😁

Dash: we’ll have a blast cos I gotta start somewhere on earning your forgiveness too

Lux: You’re sweet, Dash

Dash: I’m being for real

Lux: I know you are

Lux: I don’t know what to say though because I’m awkward 😳

Dash: it’s a hands on kinda task & you already know what you’re doing with it, it’ll be me feeling 😳

Lux: No flirting, only crafting

Dash: 🧷📏🧵✂️🧶📍✨

Lux: That’s a very impressive emoji selection

Dash: missing 😍💞🥰💓😘💘 but it’s chill

Lux: Idiot 😏

Dash: 💟 is the compromise

Lux: Okay, that’s adorable

Lux: allowed 🤭

Dash: [show up and take her hand to lead her off to sew, we know you weren’t far away bitch]

Lux: [the way you just melt when he shows, oh gal]

Dash: [I’m upset about it]

Lux: [we know you really like him, for better and worse rn]

Dash: [thank god he does actually like you and it’s not a straight up Drew and Ro situation happening]

Lux: [we can only do that ‘cos they both lowkey suck so we aren’t sad lmao]

Dash: [I like this gal too much to be that evil]

Lux: [it’s drama enough without it being entirely one-sided like no lol]

Dash: [I hope some sewing does take place amidst the blatant flirting because learn a useful skill for once in your life dickhead]

Lux: [we aren’t gonna just roll over immediately ‘cos actually did upset us so you will have to]

Dash: [yay]

Lux: [so that’s probably the vibe for today ‘cos yeah we absolutely won’t even though it’s clear we still like you like that too, so you’ll just have to hang out platonically]

Dash: [it’s gotta be the vibe for a while, sucks to suck boy, but obviously hang out until that girl comes to find you because you clearly do also wanna hang out with her platonically it’s not just like that vine where he breaks the skateboard]

Lux: [a quality vine]

Dash: [do we wanna leave this here?]

Lux: [I think we can]

1 note · View note

dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

Sands #3 (1/7/2021)

Click here if you’re like “What the heck is this about?”

Alastor @dontasktheradiodemon gets caught watching Sir Pentious @usedhearts (a.k.a. Pentell (a.k.a. Telly)) swim in the ocean, and is invited to check out a nearby island with him to look at a sea serpent. Alastor spends the trip feeling hella gay toward Sir Pentious. Sir Pentious spends the trip feeling steadily increasingly gay toward Alastor. Both of them spend the trip clinging to each other at every opportunity and thinking "wow I hope he doesn't think it's weird how much I'm clinging to him.” Sir Pentious gets dejected over his odds of conquering Hell and Alastor reassures him that he'll make it eventually, Alastor gets hurt over the suggestion that he wants people to fear him and Sir Pentious reassures him that he isn't afraid, they both get unusually vulnerable and talk about their feelings while wearing almost nothing, it's beautiful stuff.

Folks, if you’re part of the crowd that’s following this blog because you like the gay shit: here’s some prime gay shit.

Sir Pentious

There he was, swimming in a warm sea at last. It felt so good to finally be in the sea again, though he'd never properly swam in this body, it came so naturally to him. Twisting and turning in the water, he breached, in a similar way to certain animated movie about a mermaid.

Alastor

And there Alastor was, nowhere near the sea at all, hanging out in the library sitting at a window that *definitely coincidentally and not at all intentionally* had a great view of the spot where Sir Pentious had chosen to swim. He was there to read. He'd grabbed a book in a human language to prove it.

That didn't explain why he was leaning halfway out the window with his elbows on the windowsill instead of reading, but no doubt he had a perfectly logical explanation that had nothing to do with the snake that just so happened to be swimming below.

Sir Pentious

He dived again, slicing through the clear water with intent. He didn't surface again until his lungs burned for air-- and that took a lot longer nowadays than when he was alive.

He gasped when he surfaced, and glanced around, making sure he hadn't gone too far. Nope, there was the mansion right there-- and who was that watching? He squinted, shading his eyes (the ones on his face) with a hand.

"Oh! Alastor! Hello!" He shouted, waving an arm when he recognized the Radio Demon that was actually nice to him. "Alastor, it's me, Sir Pentious--" The instant he said it he realized how confusing that might be. "The other one! The one who gave you the zebra!" Yes, that would clear things up certainly.

Alastor

When Sir Pentious shielded his eyes and waved, Alastor jerked upright in alarm. He banged his head on the window frame. *Ow.* An alien song played as he accidentally jumped to another station.

He shook his head to clear it. Play it cool. Sir Pentious didn't suspect anything yet. Alastor stood up, pretending he'd just been leaning out the window to get a better view of the swimmer. "Oh, hello! Sea Serpent-ious!" (His voice sounded a lot closer to Sir Pentious than it actually was. Don't worry about it. Probably a Radio Demon thing.) "How's the water?"

Sir Pentious

The smile on his face could probably be seen from space it was so big. He still waved at Alastor, but now in a beckoning gesture.

"It's wonderful! Come down here and join me, so we don't have to shout!"

Alastor

"Okay, I'll be right down." He stepped back from the window and into the shadows of the library.

And then he was on the beach. How did he get there? Did anyone see how he actually arrived? No? Don't worry about it, it's probably fine.

Sir Pentious

Telly slithered through the water to it's edge. He didn't come all the way out though-- that sand was far to irritating to tempt it right now. He waved still, though, as he saw Alastor approach.

"I had been wondering where you were! I haven't seen you in a good small while. How are you?"

Alastor

"Oh, I've been all over the place! The kitchen, exploring the grounds, checking out the broadcasting equipment in the tower, the kitchen again..." He laughed. "What about you—been swimming and sunning the whole time?"

Sir Pentious

"Just about." He laughed, coiling to rest his arms on his tail. "I've never been in an ocean this warm before, I want to enjoy every second of it." He sat up and gasped.

"Oh! I've been catching fish, too, and eating them. There are quite a lot of tasty ones here."

Alastor

"Have you!" Alastor's eyes lit up. "Well, toss a few of your catches my way! I've been cooking with the kitchen's supplies, but fresh fish would be even better!"

Sir Pentious

"Oh well, I'm not sure if they'd be good for anyone but me and Sir Pentious to eat, considering our venom." He tapped his chin a moment. "You know, I'm not even sure we _have_ the same venom!"

He shrugged before reaching a hand towards Alastor. "Come closer, you're still much too far away."

Alastor

"It's worth checking!" He's stuck worse things in his mouth.

"What, and get my good clothes soaked?" His "good clothes" that were tattered to hell around the hems.

Sir Pentious

Telly huffed and rolled his eyes (all of them) and gesture to the top of his coils, which were well out of the water.

"Sit here then. You won't get wet there, I'm too far into the shallows for you to be reached." Oh and there comes the Snake Eyes, he is pouting!

Alastor

Hear that sound? That's the sound of Alastor's brain breaking. This is a trap. Or a prank. Or somebody shot his brains out and he's hallucinating as his skull puts itself back together. Please hold while his ability to think boots back up.

He smiled brightly. "Sure! Sounds practical!" He waited for the surf to wash out as much as it would, then bounded across the space between them with a couple of quick splashing steps. He landed more heavily than he'd intended on Sir Pentious in his haste to pull his shoes out of the water. "Very obliging of you!" His pants cuffs were wet. He tried to squeeze them out, then polished his shoes dry with his sleeves.

Sir Pentious

Telly only tilted his head as he waited, and then his smile returned when Alastor began his little splashing dance over. The landing was a little rough, but it didn't hurt, and now that Alastor was seated, he got the snake's full attention.

"That's much better, now it doesn't feel like we're separated onto land and sea by fate!" He laughed, leaning down to resume his posture of arms on his coils. Telly stared up at Alastor, his tongue flicking out to sniff him. "Can't you just magically dry yourself? Why so worried about the water?"

Alastor

"Sure, I can dry it off—but the sea salt remains. It'll damage the fabric." And Alastor's poor frayed clothes sure couldn't take extra damage. "Plus, it'll destroy animal hides if you let it! These shoes are genuine deer skin, it's next to impossible to get that in Hell these days! And all that aside, who wants salt crusted in your leg hair?"

He turned his smile on Sir Pentious. "So I'll be staying *right* here, thank you!"

Sir Pentious

Another huff, but then a sly look came across Telly's face.

"Oh, woe! It's too bad that you are so concerned for your clothing! Here I was about to whisk you away to a small island I discovered nearer to where the Sea Serpent has decided to lounge! So much for Telly and Alastor's great island adventure!"

During his speech, he'd flipped himself, dramatically putting the back of his hand against his forehead and closed his eyes. He cracked one open to look at Alastor and check if it was working, before he snapped it shut again.

Alastor

Oh, he had Alastor's full attention now—and not just because of the theatrics, which got a laugh from him. Sea serpent, huh?

"Oh, *come* now!" He leaned forward to slide an arm around Sir Pentious's shoulders and rescue him from his swoon. "As if I would pass up on an *island adventure!*" He snapped his fingers, and his clothing immediately switched out for a bathing suit. Apparently he could have done that the whole time.

It wasn't until his sleeves disappeared and the texture of fabric under his arm was replaced by smooth, wet scales that he registered the fact that Sir Pentious wasn't wearing a thing but a bathing cap. It hadn't seemed significant a moment ago. Of course he was naked from the waist down, he always was; of course he was naked from the waist up, that was the style in masculine bathing attire these days; and so it took until right that moment for him to register that he was sitting, half undressed himself, upon an utterly naked snake. And didn't he look so lovely and glistening.

He snapped his gaze away from Sir Pentious, scanning the horizon. "So! Where is this mysterious island near the legendary beast?"

Sir Pentious

Said bathing cap blinked at him with one big eye, the usual grin Hattie wore gone in this shape. But the eye was still there! Yes indeed, Hattie had turned himself into a swimming cap, just for this.

Telly, meanwhile, perked up, tongue flicking as Alastor swapped clothing-- and he could almost smell the magic as he did. Oo, tingly. He turned and pointed a ways off, a little spit of an island, with a few plants and rocks.

"It's over there! It doesn't take me too long to swim to, even if I stay on the surface, so it shouldn't take us long!" He turned to beam back at Alastor. "It'd be best to hold on to my waist-- don't want you slipping off while I swim, and I'll keep my upper body out of the water."

Alastor

Don't think about wrapping an arm securely around Sir Pentious's waist while drifting with him beneath the waves. Don't. Do not think about it. "Oh, don't worry about sticking to the surface! Drag me as deep as you want, I don't need to breathe. If we get separated, I can get myself back up to the light, never you fear."

Sir Pentious

"You don't?" His head titled, quizically. "That's interesting! I do. Hm! Well, we can dive then-- it's really lovely under there, but I'm not sure if your eyes will be alright with the salt water. Mine have waterlidsss, ssso I can sssee everything."

He gave a little shrug and uncoiled himself, grabbing Alastor by the arm to make sure he didn't slip off. "I'd really rather you hold on to me, though, I swim fairly fast!"

Alastor

"Not until I need to talk! Which, truth be told, puts a pretty solid restriction on how long I can handle not breathing, hah!" He rapped his knuckles against his chest, "It's almost all radio parts in here."

As Sir Pentious uncoiled, Alastor got to his feet, letting the water wash over his legs. After a moment of hesitation, he said, "All right. It will probably be more secure." A pause. "... Right now?"

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed. "Sure it's all right to get you wet, then? Don't want to destroy any delicate machinery!"

He uncoiled full and stretched out, patting the part of his tail right behind his torso. "Yes, right now! Hop on, I want to get out there and see the Sea Serpent again!"

Alastor

"As long as I keep my breath held!"

Oh, he was supposed to sit on him, too? Gulp. "Ohh-kay." He took a seat, wrapped his arms around Sir Pentious's waist, and tried to just hover near his back rather than give into the urge to press his cheek to Sir Pentious's spine.

Sir Pentious

He could see Alastor get on through his body eyes, and snorted at how delicately he sat. "Come now, I'm not going to break! Hold tighter, like this--" He took Alastor's wrists and tugged him forward, and then wrapped on of Alastor's hands around the opposite wrist.

"There! Keep that grip locked, that should keep you secure." Telly turned and began to slither away from the shore, toward the island. "I'll stay on the surface until we get deep enough that I can dive. It's a very pretty sight, I hope you're able to see at least some of it!"

Alastor

He pressed flat against Sir Pentious's back. *Oh.* Something schmaltzy tried to start playing; he forcibly killed it in the first few notes. "I can keep my eyes open underwater. You worry about the swimming, I'll focus on sightseeing!"

Sir Pentious

"All right!" He laughed again, and his slithering picked up speed, getting them into deeper water. Once they were far enough out he called over his shoulder.

"On the count of three, take a big breath!" His grin widened as he started to count. "One! Two! Three!" And there he went, diving down and down and down.

Alastor

At the end of the countdown, Alastor immediately started playing "Call to the Post"—and immediately stopped again as they dove underwater.

He kept his eyes squeezed shut the first few seconds as they dove underwater, then forced one to squint open. He'd remembered that the first few moments after opening your eyes underwater, it would sting; but he'd forgotten what the sting felt like over the decades. When had he last been in an ocean? Nearly a century ago?

He slowly opened his other eye, clinging tightly to Sir Pentious.

Sir Pentious

Telly swam fast, weaving between and around large pieces of coral. His passing startled fish and a myriad of other creatures, all fleeing for cover as he swam. His eyes kept a good look out for anything larger that might threaten, but luckily didn't spot anything dangerous. After a good ten minutes underwater, he headed for the surface, breaching and taking a long, deep breath.

He put his hand over Alastor's, giving it a little squeeze as he asked. "You all right back there? Nothing broken, nothing drenched beyond repair?"

Alastor

The view was vaguely blurry, but he kept his eyes open for it all the same, watching in fascination as the underwater scene went by. He almost wanted to stop so he could squint more closely at the passing view...

... but he was pressed so close to Sir Pentious that he could feel the way his muscles moved as he swam, and he wasn’t about to give that up for anything.

They’d been on the surface for several seconds before he remembered he could take a breath, too. “Everything’s watertight and shipshape, cap’n!” He automatically squeezed Sir Pentious’s hand back. “Say, are you sure *you* need to breathe? How long were we down there?”

Sir Pentious

"My lungs can expand and are larger than a human's and I can hold my breath for a good, long while. But yes, I do need to breathe, I feel it in how my lungs burn after a while." He looked around, locating the island again. It wasn't far now, he wouldn't even need to dive again. Telly turned toward it and started swimming again. His hand, however, didn't move from its place over Alastor's.

"Oh, did you hear? Valera came up with a nickname for me." He grinned. "Telly! Since I can't be 'Penny' or that would be even more confusing, she used the end of my name instead. Isn't it cute? I like it."

Alastor

“*Telly?* Telly. Huh. You like the sound of it?”” He mentally tried the sound of it out a couple of times. “Well... most of the time I’m not a big fan of the telly—but for you I think I’d make an exception.”

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed, a loud cackle, as he swam through the shallows and onto the small island.

"Oh yes, telly, I get it! It's what they call the television in England now! I hadn't even caught that." He slid all the way up onto the sand this time and then released Alastor's hand.

"Here we are, time to disembark the SS Pentious!"

Alastor

He was dimly aware of the water level around him dropping, but he didn’t fully register the fact that they were *on land* until his hooves were dragging in the sand. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to keep clinging until the sea water evaporated and the sea salt cemented their skin together and they got all gross and crusty. And then another five minutes.

But that would raise questions, wouldn’t it.

He let go and stood up. “Best cruise I’ve ever been on. Granted, it’s the *only* cruise I’ve ever been on, but...”

Sir Pentious

Telly had been about to answer, he truly had been, until he turned around enough to get a good look at Alastor-- and nearly burst into laughter. The giggles were bubbling up and he couldn't contain the cackle that rose and flung itself out.

"Oh, Alastor! Oh, I'm so sorry, but you look--! Well, honestly, you look a bit like a drowned rat." His snickering kept up as he came closer. "Here let me help..."

He started fussing over him, brushing Alastor's hair out his face and getting some of the water off it-- and then he was holding Alastor's face in his hands. He froze like that for a good few seconds, his brain short circuiting, and then quickly pulled away, slithering further onto the island. God, he was glad he couldn't blush.

"Ah, um, the Sea Serpent should be on the far side! Not much of a trek, should only take a minute or two."

Alastor

"Or a drowned deer?" He laughed and made a halfhearted attempt to smooth his bangs out. "A soggy stag? A bedraggled buck?"

He clasped his hands behind his back and patiently let Sir Pentious fuss over his hair... until they made eye contact. And Alastor found himself staring, his face in Sir Pentious's hands, and wow Sir Pentious's eyes really were dazzling in full sunlight like this, and it would be so easy to reach up and take Sir Pentious's face in return...

And then the moment ended. How long had he been staring? Oh God. He quickly looked away.

"Wonderful! What's the best way to approach it, around the shore or straight across the island?" Totally normal, nothing happened.

Sir Pentious

"Through the island should work, the Sea Serpent stays a little ways off shore, probably to not beach itself."

He stayed turned away until he could get his breathing and heart rate under control, before turning back to smile at Alastor. He really was still excited and he hoped that showed in his smile.

"These plants are fascinating-- blue instead of green, it's so curious!"

Alastor

Alastor glanced over JUST long enough to register that smile and then had to look away again. Thank God for weird-colored plants that gave him an excuse to look at something other than Sir Pentious. "You know—I hadn't even registered them. I suppose I just brushed it off as 'right, this is the living world, where things come in more colors than red.' I wonder what difference their all being blue makes?" He watched a few more plants as they passed. "Granted, I don't know what difference being green makes either, but."

Sir Pentious

Telly turned his head to look at Alastor again, tilting it at his statement.

"Do you not know why plants are green on Earth?" He asked, frowning for a split second-- before grinning and taking a breath, ready to teach Alastor a little.

"Plants on earth have chlorophyll in their cells! It's what allows them to photosynthesis! They take in mostly blue and red spectrum lights, but reflects green spectrum light, which is why they look green! Which makes me wonder if these plants have a similar element to their structure, but one that reflects blue and instead absorbs green!" He tapped his chin. "I wonder if Valera would allow me to take some home to study..."

Alastor

Alastor blinked and laughed a little. "Hold on, hold on! Plants can synthesize photos because they've got chloroform in their cells, that stuff that knocks you out—but it makes it reflect light but only if that light's green—say, if it's absorbing red and blue light, then shouldn't it be turning the leaves red and blue?" He gazed at a passing plant critically. "I've never seen a plant synthesize a photo. I'm pretty sure you need a camera for that." Telly you toss out these terms like they're gonna make sense to someone who doesn't know what they mean,

"Who needs permission? Do they own every leaf on the planet?" Alastor leaned over, plucked a stem with a cluster of leaves off of a nearby shrub, and with a flourish tucked it away in another dimension. He winked at Sir Pentious.

Sir Pentious

There's a lot of blinking and then Telly's laughing as well, loud and long.

"No! None of that is right, Alastor! It's chloro_phyll_. It's Greek, from _khloros_ which means 'pale green' and _phyllon_ which means 'leaf'. Photosynthesis is how plants eat! They absorb sunlight and carbon dioxide from the air, along with water from their roots, and use the process of photosynthesis to create nutrients. I'm not a botanist, so I don't know all the ins and outs of the process, but that's how they live!

"And as for the light, the colors we see are actually the wavelengths of light that are reflected instead of what is absorbed. Like my scales are black, yes? This is because they absorbs all the wavelengths of light and reflect none, thus they appear black, whereas my belly scales are yellow to the eye because they absorb all the other wavelengths except yellow! Wavelengths of color in light is why you can take a prism and get sunlight to refract into a rainbow! The prism separates the wavelengths!"

He's very excited about being able to babble about random science things, can you tell, Alastor? Very excited indeed.

Alastor

He's just gonna be silent a moment as he absorbs multiple science lessons he probably zoned out for at age twelve. It's a lot easier to listen now than when he was twelve: his current teacher is much more excited about the topic and much more enjoyable to listen to.

At the end, he's got one takeaway: "So plants are performing alchemy." Listen. If turning sunlight and water into nutrients isn't alchemy, Alastor doesn't know what is.

Sir Pentious

Again, Telly pauses to process what Alastor's saying. He feels like this may become a habit. His head tilts as he mulls it over.

"Hm, I suppose so! Taking things and turning them into other things _is_ basic alchemy! Maybe that is why plants are used in many magical things? That's more your area than mine, I suppose." He realized then that they had stopped moving to have this little chat, and started slithering again.

Alastor

"Personally I suspect it's because they're everywhere, they're edible, and they don't fight back! If you need a potion ingredient that's tied to the moon and offers healing and protection, eucalyptus is easier to get and easier to swallow than a chunk of silver. But maybe that's why they're so magical in the first place?" He rolled his eyes up at the sky as he thought. "I don't remember if any major occultists discussed why so many plants are inherently magical. It's been the better part of a century since I've had all my texts."

Sir Pentious

"There are magical texts that aren't already in Hell?" He slithered closer, head titled, curious.

"I would've thought everything and more would already be down here-- or rather, there! What are you missing, perhaps it is something my universe's counterpart has and he would lend to you?"

Alastor

"Oh, just the more high-level stuff—Greek occult philosophy, sixteenth century theoretical texts, that sort of thing. The material that's more intellectual than practical. Hell has is own magical scholars, who needs to smuggle in outdated works by mortal occultists who have only been working with magic a fraction as long?" He shrugged. "And much of it isn't relevant at all to doing magic in Hell! Take the Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, for instance! A list of sixty-nine of Hell's most important demons—members of the nobility one and all—and their areas of speciality, their personalities, their ranks and duties... An invaluable resource when you're a mortal getting into demon bargaining! Less useful when you're in Hell and every subway newsstand carries cheap booklets listing all of the hundreds of members of Hell's noble hierarchy, and the current bestseller list includes an unauthorized biography of Paimon. Who needs to risk summoning a duke to plea with him to kill someone on your behalf if you can phone an imp to do the same job for a few hundred bucks?"

Sir Pentious

Telly listened attentively, even if most of it flew over his head-- except the bits about the heirarchy of demons, he knew that well. And just like that his brain is shooting off on a tangent.

"Do you know which Overlords you killed during your massacre? I know you toppled a lot, but I wonder if any of them were known to you before you died, from research! Or were they all new faces to you?"

Alastor

"Want me to tell you a little secret?" He flung an arm around Sir Pentious's shoulders and leaned in close, conspiratorially. "I actually didn't kill *any* of them. It's not like I arrived in Hell armed with an angelic spear! No, all I did was thrash them around a bit! A bit of mangling and dismemberment, all harmless fun, really." He smirked slyly. "It's their underlings and rivals that did them in while they were vulnerable. All I did was present an opportunity."

Alastor let go and drifted back to his original distance. "But no, I didn't know any of them. All my dealings had been with true demons—hellborn infernals and fallen celestials—since those are the only denizens of Hell that past occultists have been able to find contact information for. After all, sinners can't be summoned out of their prison! And, of course, all the overlords I toppled were sinners, not the demons I'd been dealing with before."

Sir Pentious

When Alastor came in close, Telly's tongue couldn't help but blelele a little. He smelt like the sea-- probably because of their little swim-- and boy, did that make his heart race.

He shook his head, clearing away the twitterpatted thoughts that flew through it, and concentrated on what he said.

"Really? I could have sword your counterpart in my universe did kill some Hellborn! Perhaps that's a difference between you and he? Hm! Very interesting."

Alastor

"Kill *hellborn* overlords?" Alastor laughed in disbelief. "Not unless some imps managed to climb the ranks and got caught in the crossfire! Or he landed a lucky shot, I suppose. I suppose he could have gotten some middling-ranked hellborn demons. But Hellish *nobility*—the kind of demons who make it into mortal realm grimoires—are universally ranked above sinners for a reason. The best magic we've ever managed doesn't come anywhere near what they were *created* already capable of."

Alastor shook his head. "No, no, fighting a native demon with magic is like fighting an inferno with a matchstick. When a human manages to start toppling nobles, it won't be by trying to use their own weapons against them. It will be by using a tool they can never match: human invention."

A side glance at Sir Pentious. Hey there, human inventor.

Sir Pentious

He merely nodded along with Alastor's words until the end, and it took him a few moments for that last phrase to click.

"Oh! Oh, you...you mean me?" He pointed at himself, blinking rather owlishly.

"Well, I do have ideas! A lot of them, but none that have come to fruition yet, and I've had over a hundred years to test them!" He sighed and turned to look out through the plants, back towards the ocean.

"Sometimes I think it will be impossible for me to conquer Hell-- considering how much time I've already spent, not to mention how everyone thinks of me. Even if I make a weapon that can kill Hellborn Princes and such, who's to say if I'll be able to make use of it before one extermination or another gets me? It's honestly a miracle I've lasted this long..."

Alastor

Alastor scoffed. "A *mere century!* It took humanity thousands upon thousands of years to create vaccines, to invent the radio, to reach the moon... you think a human ought to be able to usurp the second most powerful entity in the universe in *one century*?"

Alastor elbowed Sir Pentious. "You survived *this* many exterminations, which is more than we can say for sinners a fraction of your age—and now you've got an escape route so you never have to face another extermination. Just one more step up for you."

Sir Pentious

His hood twitches at the elbow and he almost hisses-- instinct when his head starts to turn south, but he gets it under control before he does it. Instead his tongue just sticks out and stays there for a bit longer than normal.

"Yes, but it only took me half a decade to create my airship! I should be further along than I am, I should be better...." He slumped down, his tail coiling around him as he hunkered down. His arms laying across the top, he buried his face in them.

"It'sss ssso frussstrating! I want to be sssso much further in my planssss, in my relationsssshipssss, in my....well, not life, but unlife, I sssupossse! But I'm not! It'ssss like I can ssssee the end perfectly in my mind, but the path there issss murky and dark." His breath hitched a moment, but he held back any tears. He wouldn't cry, not now. He _wouldn't._

"I want it all sssso badly, Alasssstor...."

Alastor

Alastor stopped when Sir Pentious plopped down. After a moment of hesitation, he knelt down next to him. "I know you do." Alastor tentatively slid an arm around his shoulders. "And I believe, with every fiber in my dead heart, that you *will* have it all. Hell throws up every blockade it can to try to slow down its prisoners' progress—but by God, we're still *humans,* and that means we're stubborn sonsa." He offered an encouraging smile. "Hell can delay you, but it can't stop you forever—just as long as you keep moving toward the end."

Sir Pentious

The arm around him was a comfort, and slowly, he uncoiled-- if only to get his arms around Alastor in a hug. He clung tight to him, face pressed against his shoulder, and stayed there, taking a few deep breaths to help calm down-- the advice from Penny helping a lot.

"Thank you, Alassstor," He said at last, holding him tight still. "Thank you for your ssssupport, for being a....a good friend." Telly laughed softly, and a bit bitterly.

"I mussst sssseem so erratic and volatile, getting all emotional at the drop of a hat. I'm ssssorry."

Alastor

Alastor hugged back, one arm just as tight around Sir Pentious's waist and the other rubbing his back. "You've got a lot to *be* emotional about. You've been in this fight a long time. I apologize for dragging it all back up."

Sir Pentious

"No, no, I sssstarted usss talking about Overlordsss and the like. It'sss my fault." He sighed, and seemed for all intents and purposes, to have calmed down. But he didn't release Alastor, instead he just continued to hug and hold him. It was so nice, especially for a snake as touch starved as Telly. And despite being about as huggable as a bundle of twigs tied together, it was _nice_ hugging Alastor. He liked it, quite a lot.

Alastor

"We'll split the responsibility." Alastor wasn't about to be the one to let go. He stopped rubbing so he could fully slide his arms around Sir Pentious and hold him tight. His eyes slid shut. Oh, this was nice, could he stay here.

Sir Pentious

It took a good, full minute for Telly's brain to start up the 'you're being weird, you're hugging for too long' bell, and he was first to pull away. He cleared his throat, thankful for the second time that day, that he couldn't blush.

"Well, ah....ssshall we continue to the Ssssea Ssserpent?"

Alastor

Sir Pentious was pulling back. Alastor's being weird, he's hugging for too long. "Yes! Of course! Back to our main program." He quickly got back on his hooves.

Sir Pentious

And that's when Telly finally noticed the hooves. Wide eyes and tongue sticking out, he leaned down to get a better look. "Oh! I didn't notice before! You have actual hooves! And here I thought it was just a design choice to have hoof prints on the bottom of your shoes!"

Alastor

"Oh! Yes, I do!" He held one leg out, tilting his foot to show off the hoof. "The hoof prints are actually part of the shoe brand—Clove & Fawn cater to sinners with hooves. Custom-made shoes. Best you'll find in Pentagram City." He glanced at Sir Pentious's tail. "Not that you do much shoe shopping!"

Sir Pentious

He laughed and nodded. "It's true! No use for shoes with this!" He willed the end of his tail.

"I suppose they feel like your average hoof then, hm?"

Alastor

"Want to see?" He put one hand on Sir Pentious's shoulder for balance and held his ankle up with the other hand. "Feels the same as any hoof I ever touched."

Sir Pentious

He blinked but then nodded, reaching to run his fingers over the hoof. Yep, definitely a hoof. Though it did feel different-- he'd only ever touched a horse's hoof before.

"It's rough, but not as hard as I thought."

Alastor

“And it’s harder on the outside and softer on the bottom! I haven’t the foggiest idea how that works.” He held still while he was examined. It was like having one of his teeth tapped or his hair tugged: he could feel that he was being touched, but couldn’t feel the touch itself.

Sir Pentious

"Oh! That is curious-- you'd think it would be harder on the bottom, since that is where you walk!" He gave it a few more pokes before he straightens back up. He made sure, however, that Alastor was still steady with a hand on his arm, that slid down to holding his hand only he was fully upright again.

"We should be close to the other side of the island, the Sea Serpent should be basking...."

Alastor

Were they holding hands now? *They were holding hands now.* Wow.

“Oh, *basking!*” The studio audience “oooh”ed appreciatively. “I thought we were going to have to watch it from the shore! Lead the way!”

Sir Pentious

"Oh, we will! It will likely be basking out by the rocks in the deeper water! It wouldn't want to come to close to the shallows, it is rather large." He chuckled, slithering fast now, tugging Alastor along.

Alastor

And Alastor followed along eagerly! “Not an amphibious serpent, I take it.”

Sir Pentious

A hissing laugh escaped him and he shook his head. "No, not at all! He is quite locked to the sea, I'm afraid."

And there they were, at last, at the edge of the island-- it felt like eons since they landed, with all they'd talked about, but here they were. And there was the Sea Serpent, just where Telly expected it. Seemed like he already knew its routine better than it did.

Alastor

Alastor’s eyes widened at the sight of the serpent. An impressed whistle sound played. “Now, isn’t that *something!* It just goes on forever, doesn’t it?”

Sir Pentious

"Yes! And look how it glistens in the light! It's such a sight, it almost makes me not want to return to Hell, it's so beautiful." Telly squeezed Alastor's hand and grinned.

Alastor

“Yes, indeed! I can’t think of a sight prettier than the way sunlight shines on a serpent’s scales right after a good swim.”

... That sure was a series of words that just came out of Alastor’s mouth, wasn’t it. *He was looking at the sea serpent. Don’t look at him he’s looking at the monster.*

Sir Pentious

That sure was a series of words that Telly just heard. His brain seemed to leave him for a good moment or two as it chewed on that, like a dog given a bone retreating to its bed to gnaw. Once again, he is thankful he can't blush. But also why should he be blushing, Alastor was clearly talking about the creature in front of them! Definitely not the snake right beside him, holding his hand and taking in this majestic sight with him!

Finally, he cleared his throat. "Yes. Agreed. Very....very pretty." And here he'd called Alastor a drowned rat earlier-- how rude of him...

Alastor

Alastor died eight separate times in the length of that awkward silence.

He wasn’t sure whether not being immediately called out was a blessing or just prolonging the torture. Either way, he was going to pretend nothing had happened. “And what lovely colors it has!” He gestured extravagantly at the serpent. “Absolutely extraordinary! Truly a majestic beast, isn’t it!”

Sir Pentious

Oh good, they're back on the topic of the actual Sea Serpent. "Yes, it is! I've come out here a number of times to look at it, it's glorious!"

He paused and tilted his head. "I do wonder what it's scales would look like back in Hell, since the light there is a considerably darker red!"

Alastor

“Good question! Not as sparkly, I’d imagine!” A pause as he thought. “Of course—there’s one way to find out for sure...”

Sir Pentious

Telly looked over at him, tilting his head. "What way?"

Alastor

“Why—bringing its hide back to Hell, of course!” Oh, he was starting to scheme now. “But I suppose we aren’t armed to bring down something like that, are we?”

Sir Pentious

"No, we're not, I didn't even bring any of my armaments!" He huffed a bit. "Now you've got me thinking about it, and I would love to have it's hide..."

Alastor

"What a shame." The scheming kicked into high gear. "Oh well! I'm sure there will be future opportunities! Next year, if nothing else."

Sir Pentious

"Yes, perhaps next year." He did look a bit disappointed at he turned towards Alastor. "Ready to head back?"

Alastor

No. He wanted to keep holding hands on the beach. Maybe recreate the “Wicked Game” music video. Without the implied beach sex but with the passionate near-naked cuddling and the singing about unexpected but irresistible longing.

“Ready whenever you are!”

Sir Pentious

Well, he'll at least one of those things! The hand holding is still happening, even as Telly turns to slither back towards the far side of the island.

"We could also swim around more, if you like! I like just being around you, Alastor." As soon as he said it, his brain lit up with 'oh no, oh no, that was that too much?' and he kept his face eyes away from Alastor's face. Don't let him see the embarrassment.

Alastor

If they weren’t holding hands Alastor would have floated straight off the ground. “I like being around you, too!” Suave radio host who? Right now he’s just gushing giddily. Look at that gleeful smile.

Sir Pentious

At the return of the sentiment, his head turned and his eyes blinked. Well! That was good to know. He smiled back.

"We could also just stay here a bit? Or sit down by the water. Don't have to leave....right away..."

Alastor

The ghost of Chris Isaak is smiling down on them. “Actually, that sounds perfectly pleasant! Why rush back to shore? What’s over there, *sand?* We’ve got plenty of that right here!”

Sir Pentious

He laughed, nodding a bit. "Exactly! Plenty of sand and water here!"

Telly slithered over to where the water lapped up, and coiled like he had before, his hand still holding Alastor's. "Here we go, a perfect spot."

Alastor

Was that an invitation to sit on the coils again? He was going to treat it like it was. And if he was wrong... well, it was a simple misunderstanding, nobody could fault him for that but himself.

Sir Pentious

It wasn't, but Telly is absolutely not going to mind him sitting back on the coils. In fact, Alastor's going to get an arm around his waist and a chin on his shoulder, and a little bit of purring.

Alastor

He gladly returned the embrace, leaning a little against Sir Pentious as he did. Perfect position to admire the sea serpent from. Yeah, that was his priority here.

Sir Pentious

And out comes the tongue again, a little blelelel near Alastor's cheek. Sure hope he doesn't mind that, little tickling sniff.

Alastor

He doesn’t mind it in the SLIGHTEST. “I probably smell like pure salt right now, don’t I?”

Sir Pentious

"There is salt, yes, but it mixed with your natural scent, and it smells quite nice." Nice enough to earn another few flicks.

Alastor

“‘Nice’?” He laughed in surprise. “Me? *Really?*” Thank goodness he’d showered before this trip. But nobody ever said he smelled *nice.* He was, at best, tolerable and unnoticeable.

Sir Pentious

"Yes. I've always liked the smell of the sea, so smelling on you is nice." That was weird! His brain screamed and he cleared his throat.

"It reminds me of Dover. But a lot warmer."

Alastor

Welp, as soon as he gets home Alastor is switching out all of his shower toiletries for bottles with fragrance names like “Ocean” and “Saltwater Breeze.”

“There probably aren’t many times of the year when it’s pleasant to swim in merry old England, are there?”

Sir Pentious

He laughed. "No, there isn't! Until the summer, when it starts getting hot, you have no chance. But even then, the rains come and chill everything even more."

Alastor

“I’m beginning to understand why England pillaged and plundered half the planet. Any excuse to move away from home, huh?” Studio laughter. “It’s too bad you never made it over to the States! The Gulf of Mexico is warm for, oh... a good half a year or more.”

Sir Pentious

"Yes, it's a shame. I would've loved a warm ocean to swim while human-- the cold water of Dover wasn't as good, certainly." He chuckled. The sun warm on his scales, and comfortable with his arms around Alastor, his eyes started to slide shut. He gave a small yawn and purred.

Alastor

It’s truly a peaceful moment. Tranquil. Quiet.

In all his years Alastor has never been content to leave a quiet moment alive. “So! ‘Telly,’ huh.”

Sir Pentious

His brain had already begun to boot down, and Alastor's voice brings him back to himself. He blinked and took a breath.

"Yes. Telly, from my name Pentell. I like it. But of course, it's only for special people to us."

Alastor

“Do you?” Alastor wasn’t sure *he* did yet. It lacked the grandeur of *Sir Pentious.* He liked that grandeur. In contrast, “Pentell” sounded so normal, and “Telly” sounded... small.

But it wasn’t Alastor’s name, now, was it? It wasn’t Alastor’s job to critique it, it was his job to get used to it. He’d either find a way to make it make sense to himself, or he’d just deal with it. “I don’t know if I’ve ever asked why you started going by Sir Pentious to begin with, have I?”

Sir Pentious

There's a tiny, but sharp, intake of breath from Telly at the question. If Alastor hadn't been so close, he might not have even heard it.

"It is....a long, long, involved story. One that I don't wish to dig up all of at the moment, but the ending of it, is that I considered Pentell Tinley dead, near the end, before I launched my ship, and began to call myself 'Sir Pentious'. Snake themeing and all that. I thought it sounded grandiose, and I was, all things considered, more than a little manic. I still very much like being called it, I like _being_ Sir Pentious, but now it sounds more....overwrought. Overdone. Maybe if I hadn't been in such a state, I would've come up with something subtler."

He laughed, soft and bitter.

Alastor

Alastor scoffed. “Who needs subtlety?” But he did pick up that sharp breath in, and that reluctance around the whole story. It was a name rooted in something that hurt.

“So... what, you think the name feels... too big? Does that sound right to you?”

Sir Pentious

The twinge in his chest felt like a dart piercing his heart. Big. Small. Those words...He hated them.

"Maybe. I don't know. But I think that Sir Pentious is what I need to be, to Hell at large, to the people who try to poke fun at me. But to the rest, the people I care about, I think....I think I'd rather be Telly."

Alastor

“Huh.” He contemplated that a moment. “So... more of a stage name than anything else? You’re only ‘Sir Pentious’ when you’re on the big stage?”

Sir Pentious

He took a breath and thought for a moment. Looks like they were both contemplating between sentences.

"No, not quite. I still _am_ Sir Pentious. I've been him for over a hundred years. I can't not be him, any less than I could not be an inventor, or a snake. I think, perhaps, I am just Pentell Tinley _too_. I can be both, can't I? I used to think I couldn't, but now, I don't think that's true."

Alastor

“What’s the difference between Sir Pentious and Pentell Tinley? I take it there *is* a difference, or else you wouldn’t be describing them as two different people—but what? If that question isn’t none of my business.”

Sir Pentious

"The line does blur, between them, but it's there." He sighed and sat there, pondering it for a long few minutes.

"I suppose, Sir Pentious doesn't care about what anyone says, what anyone does. He is confident and sure and takes action. He plans and plots and has ambition. Sir Pentious wants to take over Hell just to say he did, just to prove he could. He is immaculate and proper and terrifying. He wants everyone on their knees before him, grovelling for his favor. He craves it. He wants attention, he wants all eyes on him. He would destroy everything if it got him what he wanted.

"Pentell, on the other hand...Pentell cares. He cares so much about the perceptions of those around him. He cares what people whisper behind his back. He is cautious, he is careful, he walks on the razor's edge of convention. He tries so hard and so often falls short. Pentell wants to be left alone, he wants to invent, to find joy in the discovery, the creation. Make his own world, with his own two hands. He doesn't want to even deal with other people, unless they are friends. But even then....sometimes he still doesn't.

"And I am....somewhere in the middle, between these two men. Trying to find the balance, walking the tightrope with fire on one side and dark water on the other. I don't know if I can balance properly, or for how long, and I fear falling either way. I just want to be _me_, but the me I want to be is so hard to find...."

He fell silent, moving his face to press against Alastor's back. This was so much easier when he didn't need to look someone in the face. To confess these things. And who would've ever guessed it would the Radio Demon to get these things out of him?

Alastor

He turned over those two personalities in his mind. “Seems a hard pair to reconcile with each other.”

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed there, with his face pressed into Alastor's back.

"Ssso you sssee my conundrum. When I am both one, it'ssss hard to sssee the good about being the other, and I don't want to go back, but then I do and I realize that I like _that_ one too, and then the whole thing sssstartssss all over again!"

He huffed and sighed. "I truly am an Ouroborossss, aren't I? Eating my own tail...."

Alastor

“And going around in circles. Why don’t you—you know—take the best parts of each and make up some third person? Call him, I don’t know, Sir Pentellyous?” He laughed, “Okay, the name could use work, but still!”

Sir Pentious

"Maybe that's what I'm already doing, with Telly. Sure, that name won't strike fear into any hearts, but maybe Telly can be the best of both worlds." He sat back up a little, his chin landing squarely back on Alastor's shoulder.

"It will take time, I think. I've wasted a lot of it, but I think, with people around me who actually _care_ about me....well, I think that will help..."

Alastor

“Hm.” He was silent again for a moment. “What’s he going to be like? This perfected version of you. Have any idea?”

Sir Pentious

"I don't know. I think that's part of why it's scary to become someone new. But it's also a little exciting." He smiled.

Alastor

Huff. “I’ve never much liked the process myself.”

Sir Pentious

"Hm, for some reason that doesn't surprise me." He chuckled softly.

Alastor

Alastor laughed. “Why’s that?”

Sir Pentious

"I think it's all the bombast. You put on a show for the world to make it harder to get close. Not that I fault you that, I do it too. So many people already fear and distrust you, so why not play into those emotions? Play with _them_. It's easier to put on a mask than it is to let someone in." He shrugged.

Alastor

Alastor blinked. “Oh, *really.* Is that why I put on a show?” His tone had cooled somewhat. “Well. Thank you for figuring that out for me, Dr. Freud.”

Sir Pentious

His eyes narrowed, and his tongue stuck out and stayed a few moments too long. Telly's arms retreated from around Alastor, and he sat back against his own coils, and they crossed over his chest instead.

"YOU ASKED! WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?" Huff!

Alastor

What *did* he expect? “... Something accurate.”

Alastor glanced at the crossed arms. “There’s my cue.” He pushed himself up off the coils and smoothed down his bathing suit. He wished he was wearing a little more.

Sir Pentious

He frowned when Alastor moved, and he leaned over closer. "SO, YOU'RE JUST GOING TO LEAVE NOW, OVER ONE COMMENT? ONE THAT YOU ASKED ME TO GIVE? AFTER EVERYTHING I TOLD YOU?"

His hood flared a little and he hissed. "WHY?"

Alastor

A shrug. “You’re the one who let go of me! I thought you wanted me off.”

Sir Pentious

"IF I WANTED YOU OFF, I WOULD'VE SSSSHOVED YOU OFF!" Now the hood was fully flared and he hissed louder.

"UGH! PERHAPSSS I SSSHOULD'VE EXPECTED THISSSS! YOU _ARE_ AN ALASSSTOR AFTER ALL! ALWAYSSS THE INTERVIEWER, NEVER THE INTERVIEWEE! CAN'T YOU JUSSSST LET DOWN YOUR GUARD FOR TWO SSSECONDSSS? CAN'T YOU TELL ME SSSSOMETHING?! IF I'M SSSO INACCURATE IN MY ASSSSESSSMENT OF YOU, THEN TELL ME _WHY_! I BARED MYSSSSELF TO YOU, CAN'T YOU GIVE ME THE TINIESSST BIT OF DECENCCCY AND GIVE A LITTLE IN RETURN?"

Alastor

“I put on a show because I want people to like me. I want—people to smile when I come into the room. I’m an entertainer. I want them to be entertained.” Boy that sure is a fascinating sea serpent that he’s not going to look away from for a second. “It’s not to push people away, it’s to draw them in.”

Sir Pentious

He huffed again, but his hood lowered fractionally. He took a few more breaths before saying anything.

"WELL, IT DOESSS! IT DOESSS DRAW THEM IN, BUT YOU SSSTILL HIDE BEHIND IT, TOO! NO ONE CAN KNOW THE ENTERTAINER IF HE'S CONSTANTLY ENTERTAINING, CAN THEY? YOU KEEP UP A WALL OF SSSMILESSS, AND MAKE IT HARD TO GET CLOSSSE TO YOU." He leaned across his coils and reached to take Alastor's hand, squeezing it between both of his.

"You don't have to keep the ssshow going all the time. You're allowed to put down the sssmile. I won't judge you, I sssswear."

Alastor

Alastor let him take his hand but didn’t return the squeeze. “The smile stays on. It’s part of me. And the show’s part of me, too! You don’t get closer to the real me if I pretend like I’m not on air, you just get *less* of me! Nobody says ‘you’re always hiding your *true* self from me, show me who you really are—strip off your skin and muscles so I can see your bones!’” He paused. “Well, all right, I knew one fellow who said that—but he was a mass murderer, so I don’t think he should count.” Studio laughter. “But me, I prefer some meat on my friends. What do you think you’re getting if you strip my personality off of me?”

Sir Pentious

Telly sat there, holding Alastor's hand as he spoke, making sure he caught every word, that it processed in his mind. He let his brain chew on it a bit before he responded.

"I don't want that, to ssstrip you of your persssonality. It'sss jusssst...It'sss hard to be clossse to you when I don't know when you're being facetioussss or not. Sssometimesss I underssstand but other timesss I get lossst. Or when you ssseem to get upsssset when I jussst anssswered a quesssstion honessstly. Or when you don't explain why I'm wrong and inssstead jussst assssume I want you to leave." He gave him a meaningful look.

"Do you undersssstand what I'm sssaying? I like you, Alassstor, I want ussss to be good friendssss, and I think we are! I haven't opened up like that to ssssomeone in a long time-- I think I'm doing it more now, though, between you, Hel, Valera, and Sssir Pentiousss. But I want you to trussst me, too, like I've been trussssting you. You know more about me than a lot of othersss now. I jussst want thisss to be a two way ssstreet."

Telly sighed and released Alastor's hand, but spread his arms, offering a hug. "I want you in my life, Alassstor-- or unlife, I guesssss?-- But I don't want to be the only one that givessss thingssss."

Alastor

He wasn’t upset at an *honest answer*, he was upset at being wildly misunderstood. He didn’t *assume* Telly wanted him to leave, he read the very overt body language. And he *did* explain why Telly was wrong—as soon as Telly asked.

But any correction would be taken as an argument, so he held his tongue. “I did just trust you.”

He did not want a hug. If he didn’t accept it, Telly would interpret it as a rejection of *him.* He leaned into the hug.

Sir Pentious

The hug was stiff. Too stiff. He'd hugged Alastor a few times before this and they all felt vastly different now. Telly's tongue stuck out again, and he pulled back, looking at him.

"I've done sssomething, haven't I? I've sssaid ssssomething wrong." He shrunk back a little and stared at the ground.

"I'm sssorry. I didn't mean to upssset you. I'm.....I'm not good at thisss am I?" He sighed and looked over at him. "You did trussst me and I wasss too dumb to ssssee it. I'm sssorry."

Alastor

Figured that out now, did he? Alastor thought that should have been obvious around the “Dr. Freud” quip.

“Oh, don’t call yourself *dumb*. I don’t want to hear you putting yourself down on my behalf.” He offered a wide smile. (You want to see Alastor with a mask? *There’s* Alastor with a mask.) “Come now! You’re the smartest man I know.”

Sir Pentious

Telly made a face and sat up taller. "I WASSS DUMB, ABOUT THAT. I DIDN'T LISSSSSTEN RIGHT. I MAY BE SSSSMART IN SSSOME THINGSSS BUT I'M DUMB IN OTHERSSSS! I KNOW THAT ABOUT MYSSSSELF!"

He huffed again, crossing his arms once more. Then his face fell a little, and he sighed. "I don't want to fight. I'm sssorry. We're sssuposssed to be out here, having a nice time, and I ruined it. I'm sssorry that I didn't undersssstand better. Will you forgive me, Alassstor?"

He didn't offer a hug or even a hand this time, but he did lean against his coils a little closer. "I jussst want to underssstand you, but then I sssay the wrong thing. Maybe...you could tell me, if I sssay the wrong thing? If I asssume wrongly, basssed on what I know of my universsse'sss you? I want you to correct me, Alassstor. If I get ssssomething wrong, I want to be told what isss correct." He sighed again. "I don't even know if that'sss the right thing to sssay either. Why are wordssss so difficult? Why can't we jusssst beam our intentionsss right into other'sss mindsss? Maybe that'sss sssomething I ssshould work on...."

Alastor

Alastor’s smile flattened a little. “I did tell you that you assumed wrongly.”

Usually Alastor would be *thrilled* at the thought of Sir Pentious working on another new invention—but under the context, he couldn’t work up the enthusiasm to pump him for information on how this one would work. “If you do come up with a telepathy machine, let me know about it.”

Sir Pentious

Telly tried to replay the conversation in his his head-- how had they gotten here? How could he fix this? Alastor was upset with him, but he couldn't figure out how to make things right.

"Yesss, you did. I jussst..." His face fell more and he shrugged. "I don't know what to do, Alassstor. I don't know how to make thissss right. I'm sssorry I didn't lisssten right. I'm sssorry I didn't notice how you were trusssting me and trying to open up." He almost started chewing on his lip, but stopped himself before he did. Now his crossed arms seemed more holding himself than defensive.

"I ruined it, and I'm ssssorry. We were having a nice time and then it ssstopped being nice, and now you're--" He stopped short. He was assuming again, but wasn't he right this time? Alastor _was_ upset, wasn't he?

"Maybe I ssshould sssstop talking now. I don't want to upssset you. I jusssst...." He didn't even know what to say now. Did he ever? He sighed again and looked at the sea serpent. "I'm ssssorry...."

Alastor

“Please stop apologizing.” Every apology felt like it was trying to strangle him. “I got it. You covered it with the first one.”

He glanced at the serpent again too. “Well. I think we’ve seen this sight.” He gestured back toward the path they took through the island.

Sir Pentious

"Right, yesss, I'm--" He cut himself off again, and simply nodded.

"We have. We sssshould return. That would be good." Telly still held himself, even as he started slithering back across the island.

"Do you want to ssswim back with me, or....?"

Alastor

He started trudging alongside Telly.

And then stopped. No. He didn’t want to.

If he didn’t, he’d probably ruin things permanently. He knew he’d regret that later. “Fine.” He resumed trudging.

Sir Pentious

"You don't have to, Alassstor. I'm not going to force you...." He sighed and kept looking anywhere but Alastor.

Alastor

“I said fine.” He didn’t want to have to regret running away again.

Sir Pentious

Telly's quiet for a few moments and then: "Okay."

He stays quiet then until they reach the other side of the island, and then he finally looks at Alastor, offering a hand to help him onto his tail.

Alastor

He also remained silent, but for the ever-present static around him and the noise of a needle skipping as he mentally replayed the conversation, turning it over in his head, searching for the point where it went sour. The static grew louder as his mood grew darker.

By the time Telly offered his hand, instead of taking it, Alastor rounded on him angrily. “You don’t get to accuse me of being a bad interviewee when *you* weren’t even an interviewer! You got hacked off at me for not answering your questions *before you asked me any!* When you asked, *I answered!* I *answer* you! I *want* you to know about me! But after asking a hundred questions about you, I try to offer you *one* tiny little detail about who I am, and—and instead of following up on that, you give me some cookie-cutter ‘you’re scared to open up’ therapist babble like you have me all figured out and then blame me when I don’t conform to it! Go on, tell me more about how I play with people’s fear to keep them from getting close to me! *I hate their fear.* I *hate* that all of Hell is too afraid to make eye contact! I’m a God damned *talk show host,* everyone is supposed to *love* me—“

He cut himself off. Turned away, clasped his hands behind his stiff back, stalked up the shoreline.

Sir Pentious

His hand instantly retracted when Alastor started yelling at him-- _Alastor_ yelling at _him_. Not the other way around. That was something new. Wide pink-red eyes blink at him, and he tries to make sure to catch every word-- this was _important._ He knew that much.

And then he stopped, and started to stalk away, and no, no, that wasn't going to happen. Telly surged after him, slithering fast across the sand to round in front of him and cut him off.

"Alastor! Wait, wait-- Give me a moment, pleassse!" He was breathing fast as he took as short a time as possible to continue processing everything Alastor said. And then he took a big, deep breath.

"You're right. You said to stop apologizing, but I must one more time: I'm sorry. I assumed I knew everything, and didn't stop to think. And, well..." He swallowed and then put his hands, gingerly, on Alastor's shoulders. He made sure to look him right in the eyes.

"I don't fear you. I don't. People mock me, and I hate that, but I never stopped to think about how everyone pissing themselves when you walk in a room must feel-- how that must be horrible, when literally everyone runs at the mere sight of you, or your name. But I want you to know that I don't.

"I understand if you're still angry with me, or will continue to be for a while, but I want you to know that I still want to be your friend and maybe I....just need to be a better interviewer?" He let out a hollow chuckle. "Maybe I can take some lessons from the best one around...."

Alastor

Dammit, don't follow him, he didn't want to continue. He shouldn't have said as much as he had. He hated breaking character, he didn't feel like himself. He tensed when Telly grabbed his shoulders, stared straight through him when he tried to make eye contact.

But when Telly finished and Alastor had a chance to pull back, instead he closed the distance, pulled Telly into a hug, and crushed his face into Telly's shoulder.

Sir Pentious

Telly was a little surprised at the hug-- he'd been expecting more storming off. But perhaps he needed to stop assuming that he knew what Alastor would do, and more importantly, what he felt.

His arms closed around him, holding Alastor just as tightly as Alastor held him. Telly's eyes (on his face) closed, and one of his hands cradled the back of Alastor's head, carding through his hair in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

Alastor

"Good," he croaked. "I don't want you to fear me." There was the subtlest extra emphasis on the word *you.*

Sir Pentious

His tail moves, slowly coiling around the two of them, like Telly wanted to cocoon them together. "I don't. I swear, I don't."

His claws continued to card through his hair, giving little scratches to his scalp, too. "What _is_ it like? Having everyone so scared of you all the time?"

Alastor

This was far too intimate and he was far too naked, both physically and emotionally. He didn't fight it yet, though. He focused on the claws in his hair.

"It's a rush at first. You can get deliriously high off the power fear gives you. But, once the high wears off... No one will look at you, no one will talk to you... no one will sit next to you on the bus... Hah, half the time no one will share the bus with you at all! It can be *useful,* if you *want* a bus to yourself. And sure, you can terrify people into doing anything you want, you can order them to sit in a chair and carry on a conversation with you—but they're never actually listening to what you say. They're just waiting for the first opportunity to run."

He laughed ruefully. "Enough fear will get you anything you want, except for a willing audience—and what's the radio without an audience?" He was rambling, his explanation meandering, spitting out the first things he could think of. What kind of radio host was he? "It's... very isolated."

Sir Pentious

Telly kept up the petting through everything Alastor said, and hummed a bit in consideration.

"Yes, it sounds like it. It sounds, well frankly, terrible. But what about the people in the cannibal colony? They don't fear you like that, do they?" He was going to keep asking questions until either Alastor stopped answering, or he ran out of things to ask.

Alastor

"Most of them don't, no. But they're a... It's quite a traditional, conservative little enclave. They haven't had a fresh thought since 1905. They're impressively Protestant, considering what afterlife they're in—but you'd be amazed just how easily they divorced their religion from their god and kept on practicing it unaltered. They're alarmingly white—and believe you me, there is a way to do that alarmingly. Half the ladies compete over me like a prize whenever I show up. And worst of all... no radios." Faint laughter from the studio audience.

"I tried living there but couldn't last. It's a pleasant place to visit, if you can act like you're one of them—but it *is* an act. After a while it's downright draining. Fit in and you'll find the best acquaintances you could ever ask for, but you won't make friends." He finally pulled back—not pulling *away*, but enough to show his face again. Still smiling, but he looked exhausted. "People are surprised to hear that the colony is so closed-minded—why, what about all the singing and dancing and cannibalism they're so well-known for? I've got no explanation for their musical inclinations; but as for the cannibalism... in my experience, I think most people need a little extra dose of close-mindedness before they can dehumanize a person enough to see them as meat. Either you're just like them, or you're prey. I've got the good fortune to be just like them... except that I'm not, of course."

Sir Pentious

His tongue stuck out again, and his face screwed up, at the description-- something Alastor could clearly see when he pulled back.

"_Traditional. Conservative. Eugh._" He spat out the words like curses, and his tongue stayed out with a soft hiss, before retreating. His hands stayed where they were on Alastor, one curled around his waist, and the other resting now on his shoulder, holding the back of his head. It felt so intimate, this pose, and Telly felt his heart give a painful sort of clenching flutter when he realized it.

But he didn't pull away. It was important that he wasn't the first the pull away here, at least that's what he thought.

"Not to criticize your other friends, but that sounds about as pleasant as everyone running in fear. Either they're too afraid to speak to you, or you have to pretend to be just like the rest when you're not." He huffed, and his eyes narrowed, though not at Alastor-- instead he looked out, thinking.

"I understand the second one much more than the first." His thumb came up to stroke against Alastor's cheek-- a somewhat unconscious action. Telly's coils tightened a tad, but not enough to constrict Alastor-- another unconscious movement, a shielding of the both of them from the world.

"What about Rosie, in particular? Do you have to pretend like that with her, or is it different?"

Alastor

He laughed, what a reaction. *Eugh* indeed. "I imagine you *would* be familiar with the concept—with a family like you had, living when you did. Not to repeat stereotypes about the Victorians, *but*..." He leaned into the touch. Strange to be touched like this.

"Oh, Rosie's different. She's not even human. She chose to make her home in the Cannibal Colony because she decided she liked their little culture, but she's in the same camp as me: the colonists treat her as if she's the exact same as them because she acts enough like one of them. On the one hand, that means she doesn't *buy into* most of our human cultural baggage, which is a plus—but on the other hand, she doesn't really get why these things make a difference to humans at all."

He sighed lightly. "She's one of my dearest friends, and for good reason! But... well, she does witness our human matters as an outsider. That's both a positive and a negative. You're close to an inhuman entity, I'm sure you know what I mean?"

Sir Pentious

"The stereotypes for that are accurate, at least where my family was concerned. A woman for every man, and kids aplenty." He made a face again. Blegh.

"Oh, I didn't know she wasn't human. That's interesting-" He stopped short when Alastor mentioned _him_ being close to an inhuman entity. His face screwed up, and his head tilted as he thought. What did Alastor mean-- Hel, or Hattie? Well, he might as well ask.

"Which inhuman entity are you referring? Hel? Or Hattie? Or is it someone else?"

Alastor

Alastor wrinkled his nose. “A woman for every man, even if you have to drag fourteen-year-olds into it.” He scoffed. “Most people don’t realize she isn’t human! She lives among them, after all—she doesn’t really advertise it. But you can tell. She’s got this air of... *above-it-all*-ness. A little bit maternal, a little bit patronizing.”

Alastor almost answered, stopped, and uncertainly asked, “Is your hat a separate person? I took it as a sort of... psychic extension of you. I *meant* Hel, but...” He made eye contact with the bathing cap. “Er, hello? My, goodness, what must you think of us, spilling our hearts right in front of you like this!”

Sir Pentious

"Oh, no, Hattie is...._mostly_ a part of me. But he's also not. It's...odd? I think it might be like you and your microphone." He chuckled a bit. "Though he doesn't talk." A short shrug.

"But, yes, I suppose Hel _is_ nonhuman, but she understands humanity and everything very well. If I didn't know better, I wouldn't have thought her anything other than a fellow human soul." He smiled, a bit wistfully. "For a while, I thought Hel was a pseudonym, until I found out it wasn't."

Alastor

A nod. “Okay, that’s what I though.” He gave the hat another Look, though.

Huff. “Versatile name, Hel—works for people *and* places. Like Georgia.” Surely Georgia was a fitting comparison to the names of underworlds and/or their gods. “I don’t know if I’d have figured out Rosie wasn’t human before she said so, truth be told. But it came up fairly early. But once you *know,* well... it’s plenty obvious.”

Sir Pentious

"Oh yes, the same with Hel. Once you're aware you're in the prescence of the literal Norse Goddess, it's easy to see everything." He chuckled again, and took a breath, smiling.

"Is there anyone else? Other than Rosie that you're close to? I know about Husker and Miss Nifty, but are they friends or just...." He searched for the right word. "...employees?"

Alastor

“Employees. *Less* than employees, really—more like part-time indentured servants. They’re both in my debt. Two of hundreds that are. You can’t be friends with someone with that kind of imbalance.”

Sir Pentious

"I see. Like if I tried to be friends with an Egg Boi, I'd assume." He tilted his head. "Maybe a little different, because the Egg Bois are all sycophantic, and virtually the same."

He purred a little and settled back against his coils, drawing Alastor close with him. "So, no one else? Just Rosie?"

Alastor

“More or less. An Egg Boi with an independent sentient life.”

He tilted his head back and forth. “Mimzy—I don’t know if you know of her. Big movie star, but of course that was after your time. Some of my duplicates, over the years, but it’s hard to be close to *yourself.* A handful of distant, casual friends with shared hobbies. And—“ (he averted his gaze) “—a few others, these past few months. But when you can count a friendship in months, *well...* Anyone can be a friend for a few months and then drift off.”

Sir Pentious

That made his heart give a pang. He didn't want to drift off. He didn't want Alastor to drift off either. Telly hadn't had friends in a long, long time, too, and he didn't want to lose any of them. Would it be strange to tell Alastor that? He wasn't sure, even, now with them talking again, like earlier.

"I don't want to drift off, Alastor. As much as I am prone to secluding myself, I don't want to drift off from you-- or the other friends I've made." He cupped Alastor's face in his hand and stroked his cheek again. "I don't want you to drift off, either. I honestly, truly, want us to stick together."

He took a long, deep breath, and his hand moved down, both arms now just around Alastor's waist, holding him. He suddenly laughed as a thought struck him. "Just don't ever let me cook for you! I'm terribly, can't even make eggs! Though I think the Egg Bois are thankful for that. I always wondered how you're so good at it. I know bits from-- well, my universe's version, but I don't know if it's the same for you. How did you learn to cook so well?"

Alastor

That hand on his face, those words... Something lurched in his chest. It would be so easy to say there was *nothing* he wanted more than to stick together, and then to lean in...

But the hand left Alastor’s face and his trance broke before he could do something incredibly stupid. He dropped his hands to Sir Pentious’s lower back and laced them together. What were they talking about? Focus on the new topic. “Oh—my mother taught me. I’ve kept learning since then, of course—in France, New York, down here—but she gave me the foundation everything else is built on. I suppose the high-and-mighty Tinley family had people to cook for you?” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “Who’s been keeping you fed down here?”

Sir Pentious

Oh, if he could blush, his face would be the reddest thing next to Alastor's hair! He can't believe he was about to admit this, but with such a frank question....

"The Egg Bois..." He can't look at Alastor, oh, this is humiliating to admit. "They.....make me sandwiches, or go out and get me food. When I first got to Hell, though, it was the soirees and parties that my reputation bought me invitations to that kept me fed...."

Alastor

“The *Egg Bois*?” Do you see the horror in Alastor’s eyes. Do you. “Please tell me they’re better in the kitchen than they are in... anywhere else.” Considering that apparently their culinary expertise was limited to *sandwiches,* somehow Alastor doubted it.

Sir Pentious

He can't help the laugh that bubbles up in his throat, and there's a manic sort of tinge to it. "No, they're really not! I can't trust them with a stove or a hot plate. If I want something hot, I have to order something and have them pick it up!"

Oh no, he's full on giggling at the ridiculousness of all this.

Alastor

“Not even just sandwiches—*cold* sandwiches! You can’t so much as get a panini in your own home!” He clapped his hands on Sir Pentious’s shoulders. “*Please* tell me you’re at least ordering from decent restaurants. Not pre-frozen mass-produced fast food rubbish.”

Sir Pentious

Oh that look of shame on his face! If Telly could sink into the ground right now, he would very much like that.

"No, it'sss just whatever ssssoundsss tasssty! And sssometimesss whatever isss cheapessst."

Alastor

Alastor stared up at him. He knew full damn well what *cheapest* meant. “You poor man. Come here.” He wrapped one arm around Telly’s shoulders, cradled the back of his head with the other, and tugged him down to rest his head on Alastor’s shoulder. “You poor, poor man. I know Hell is a punishment, but even at that it’s not supposed to be *that* bad.”

Sir Pentious

Oh, oh, he was being held now. This was nice, even if it was because of his eating habits. His arms tightened around Alastor's waist.

"At times, eating was a lower priority than my ship, or other inventions. Materials cost, after all, and it's not like I'll _die_ if I go without food in Hell or anything..." He's mumbling a bit now, shame taking full hold, overshadowing any of the strange giddiness left.

Alastor

“My good sir, I survived the *Great Depression.* We ate soups made with chopped-up hot dogs. If we wanted a nice salad, we plucked dandelions out of the sidewalk. We made *chocolate cake* with *tomato soup.* But I can *assure* you, it tasted better than the slop they’re selling at the ‘cheapest’ restaurants these days—and I don’t even *like* cake!” He patted Sir Pentious’s back. “You are invited over for lunch *any time* you want. No, you don’t even have to come over! Just yell your order into the nearest radio and I’ll be right over.”

Sir Pentious

"Oh, I couldn't, I can't impose like that, I-- I-It'sss fine really--" Annnnd his throat closes, choking on the words. _Really?_ He thinks to himself. _Really, Pentell, THIS is what gets you to cry, after everything that's happened on this beach, it's THIS?_ But he can't help it, the tears come as he presses his face into Alastor's shoulder. His teeth clamp down on his lip to stifle the sobs that wrack his body, and his tail coils tighter, all of his eyes now leaking. He felt blood begin to drip from his mouth, fangs having pierced all the way through, and that landed on Alastor as well.

Alastor

Hello, what? For a second he was paralyzed by shock and the sickening feeling that he’d just royally screwed up. And then he launched into soothing Telly—hugging him tighter, playing a soft song, murmuring, “Hey, it’s all right. I’ve got you. It’s fine. Everything’s fine,” and other reassuring sweet nothing.

After a moment, he self-consciously said, “Oh, *boy* do I hope that these are tears of joy because you’ve got someone to cook for you now.”

Sir Pentious

The sobbing takes up his entire mind for a good while, and the soothing does help somewhat. He unlocks his jaw and starts taking breaths through there, slow and deep, trying to make sure he didn't start hyperventilating.

"I-I'm sssso sssorry, Alassstor," He muttered when he'd gotten back some sembelence of control. He hiccuped softly, and it turned into a manic sort of giggle. "I d-don't know what came over me. I....I h-honessstly don't."

Telly sniffled and pulled back, just enough to wipe as his face with a hand. "I....." He swallowed thickly, trying to piece together what he was feeling. "I think it's hard for me to understand that....that people can _care_ about me? And I think, hearing that offer, I realized that you do....care about me...and the dam just....broke."

Telly shrugged weakly, tears still leaking down his face faster than he could wipe them away. "I'm sorry if I frightened or worried you...."

Alastor

When Alastor saw Telly’s face, he sucked a sharp staticky breath in. Without thinking, he reached up to cradle Telly’s face in one hand, and with his thumb carefully wiped a trickle of blood away from Telly’s lip. “I’m sorry I set you off like that,” he said quietly. “Well—if the dam’s broken, that means there won’t be another flood, right? I don’t have to worry about making you sob all over yourself if I offer to do you a favor in the future?”

Sir Pentious

"Depends on if the dam gets repaired, I think." He chuckled hollowly. When he realized he was bleeding he winced.

"Shit. I bit myself. Over a hundred years and I still forget about my fangs, damn it all..." He huffed and sank down lower, laying his head on Alastor's shoulder again.

"I think that if you do continue to offer me favors, I'll end up getting used to it, and these kinds of reactions will abate..." He took another deep breath. "At least I hope they do, I don't want to burst into tears at the drop of a hat. It's so messy."

Alastor

He wrapped his arms around Sir Pentious again. And surreptitiously licked the blood off his thumb.

“I’m going to have to start carrying around water bottles if they don’t.” Moderate laughter from the studio audience. “Is there a way for me to—I don’t know—care less caringly? For the sake of your copious tear ducts?”

Sir Pentious

He laughed too, along with the audience, and shook his head a little. "I don't know. I'm not sure what it is about the caring that actually...._makes_ me cry. But if you find a method, please feel free to try it out."

Telly took another long, deep breath, and his tears stopped fully. "I think I'm okay now..."

Alastor

“Good.” He didn’t let go just yet, though. “We should probably get you back to shore. Unless you can drink saltwater, you’re going to be dehydrated as all hell.”

Sir Pentious

He didn't let go either, in fact, he would've liked to stay like that for a long time. But it was probably past time they headed back anyway.

"You're right. I'll need water after that, and unfortunately, I can't drink salt water." He laughed.

Alastor

“Pity.” He slowly, reluctantly let go. “Shall we, then? Before you shrivel up like a remarkably long prune?”

Sir Pentious

Telly, equally as reluctant, pulled back, but let his hand slide down to take Alastor's. He smiled, softly and warmly, at him.

"Ready to climb back on?"

Alastor

Once they’d separated, it *just* began to dawn on Alastor how long and uncomplainingly they’d been wrapped around each other—when he was reminded that they were about to have to do it again. “*Right.* Yes. Ready when you are.”

Sir Pentious

"Up you come then, Alastor." He tugged on his hand to help him up onto his back.

Alastor

He barely needed the encouragement. He was being invited, it wouldn’t be weird for him to latch on, hurry up and don’t think about it.

Sir Pentious

Telly gave a little purr when Alastor climbed back on, and once again, he made sure his hands were secure around his waist before he started moving. He slithered toward the water, his hand covering Alastors, just as before.

Alastor

This time, he didn’t hesitate to latch on tightly.

Sir Pentious

Telly slithered out onto the water, and looked over his shoulder. "On three. One. Two. Three!" And with a big inhale, he dived under, swimming back towards the mansion island. He breached back up only a short distance from the shore, and Telly gasped for breath.

Alastor

On the return trip, Alastor didn’t even bother trying to watch the scenery going by. He just kept his eyes shut and clung, his cheek to Telly’s back. This was only going to last a couple more minutes. Enjoy it while it’s happening.

And then they surfaced. He let out a long sigh, let go, and treaded water. “Thanks for the speedy ride!” He was never going to mention that he could have teleported himself back and forth.

Sir Pentious

"Of course, thank you for sailing SS Telly!" He laughed, and took Alastor's hand again, dragging him with him as he swam the rest of the way to shore. He stopped there on the sand and considered the mansion.

"It would be rude to go inside soaking wet....."

Alastor

Okay. *One* more touch. He freed his hand so that he could fling his arm around Telly’s shoulders. “Shall I?” He held up his other hand, fingers positioned to snap.

Sir Pentious

He smiled at the arm around him, and nodded. "Please, if you would, Mes. Alastor!" He laughed and winked.

Alastor

Snap. They’re now both dry. Enjoy the sensation of every drop of water simultaneously yeeting itself away.

Sir Pentious

He shivered all over at that, what a strange feeling! But then he grinned. "Shall we, then?" He asked, gesturing towards the the mansion. He really was starting to feel exceptionally thirsty.

Alastor

He let go, but said, “Hold on a moment. I wanted to say that, uh... For a bit there, back on the island... Well, that wasn’t exactly in character for me—at least, not the character that I try to play—so—I—wanted to apologize. I might be a violent man, but I try not to have a violent temper.”

Sir Pentious

He took turned and took both of Alastor's hands. "It's fine, Alastor. I'm glad it happened, because it helped me understand more about you and see what I had done wrong, and it will help me keep from making a mistake like that in the future. The last thing I want to do is misunderstand you."

Telly squeezed both his hands and smiled, before releasing them. "Do you want to come get that water with me, or...shall we say goodbye for now, here?"

Alastor

“It shouldn’t have happened like *that.* I could have handled it more gracefully. I want you to understand me, too, and that’s not going to happen if I’m so hacked off you’re afraid to talk to me!” He glanced away with a self-conscious grin. “I’m not used to being *afraid* that I won’t be understood.”

He returned the squeeze before Telly let go. “I’ll come along. I oughta head to the kitchen with you, anyway. I need to get a list of what kind of food you like.”

Sir Pentious

His eyes widened, but he smiled and nodded. "Right, yes, that-- yes, we should do that."

He turned to head inside, overall, feeling much better about the whole trip.

#extermination party palace #usedhearts #chat log #((the funniest line i wrote in this was ‘the ghost of Chris Isaak is smiling on them.’))#((Chris Isaak is still alive))

7 notes · View notes