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deanstop13billyjoeltraxx · 3 years

Text

Superposition

a college roommate deancas AU :)

Chapter 9 is up on AO3! Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here.

CW: alcoholism, smoking

note: this chapter is again wayyy too long for me to go through and italicize everything the way it should be, soooo AO3 is the place to go if you want the best experience:))

Doing the Right Thing

Present

It was still pitch-dark outside when Dean woke up. He checked the time. 5:22 a.m. He groaned. A product, he guessed, of getting nearly fourteen hours of sleep the day before. He almost tried to go back to bed, but it was useless. He was awake. Gingerly, he applied some pressure to his stitches. Pain bloomed beneath his fingers, but it remained localized. That was encouraging. Dean sat up slowly. He felt the blood rush from his head, and the room spun a little more than usual, but the spikes of pain of the days before were gone. Maybe he’d be fully healed by Monday, and he’d be able to get Cas back on the road sooner than he’d thought.

Dean pulled on a sweatshirt and sweatpants and made his way to the kitchen, doing his best to not disturb Sam, who was still passed out in the living room. He grabbed his keys off the counter and stuffed his feet into an old pair of sneakers before quietly exiting the apartment.

He could have brewed a pot of coffee, but he needed some fresh air. The argument with Sam was still echoing in his mind. Dean pulled his hood up against the bitter Kansas wind and made in the direction of the closest 7-Eleven.

The roads were Saturday-morning quiet. Dean relished the silence and the sting of the cold air on his face. He usually tried to wait until after breakfast, but he took out his lighter and lit a cigarette, anyway. The burn in his throat was a welcome familiarity. Dean sighed against the nicotine buzz. It had been a few days.

He remembered the look on Cas’s face the day before, when he’d mentioned a cigarette. He’d gone cold turkey sometime around the Christmas before his dad died. Cas acted like it was the most impressive thing anyone had ever done. But, then… Well. Then he’d gone from near-alcoholic to stone-cold sober. He wasn’t proud of it, but he needed something to take the edge off those first few months. The habit was harder to kick the second time around.

Dean reached the 7-Eleven and discarded the cigarette in the ashtray on top of the trashcan. He made a beeline for the coffee machine. Dean grabbed the largest cup he saw, filled it to the brim with steaming coffee. He had just taken the glorious first sip when —

“Dean!”

Dean turned around at the sound of a woman’s voice. He grinned wide when he saw the owner was Sheriff Jody Mills.

“Hey, Jody,” he said, setting the cup down. She pulled him into a tight hug. In the past three years, Jody had become family.

“How ya doin’, kiddo?” She asked when they parted. Dean shrugged. “Bobby told me about your head.”

“Old man can’t keep his mouth shut,” Dean grumbled, garnering a laugh from Jody. “I’m fine. It wasn’t a big deal.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Stitches say otherwise.”

He waved a hand at her. “Nah. How are you, Jody?”

Jody sighed. “Same old. Bunch of the force is off for Christmas already. I pulled the short straw, had to work the graveyard shift last night. ”

“Anything interesting happen?”

Jody gave him a look. “No, nothing ‘interesting.’ Although we did have a mugging.”

Dean took another sip of coffee. “Where?”

“Down at that bar on 14th, sometime around midnight. A couple of college kids jumped this poor guy on his way to an Uber. He got a little banged up, and they took his wallet, gave him a good scare.” Jody sighed. “I felt bad for him. Said he was from outta town, just passing through on his way to Kansas City.” She snorted. “Makes Lawrence look real nice, huh? You’re here for a couple of days, and you get mugged.”

Dean froze. “Kansas City? Did you happen to get his name?”

“We did, but… God, I can’t remember it.” She eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”

“No reason. Did he, uh, did he mention where he was staying?”

“Uh… I think he said the Days Inn.”

“The one right by KU?” Dean asked.

Jody shrugged. “Probably. I didn’t ask for specifics. Dean, what’s going on?”

Dean grabbed a lid and put it on his cup. “It’s nothing, Jody, I promise. I’ll see you around.”

As he made his way to the cashier, Jody let out an exasperated sigh. “Good to see you too!” She called after him.

He paid for his coffee and all but ran back to his apartment. Upon reaching the parking lot, he hurriedly unlocked the Impala and slid into the driver’s seat. Dean’s movements slowed before he could turn the key in the ignition.

What was he doing, exactly? What was his plan here? He had Cas’s phone number. He could easily call him, ask if he was okay, if that was him who got mugged. Would Cas even tell him the truth if it really was him Jody was talking about? The man didn’t owe Dean a damn thing, he’d made that perfectly clear.

And yet… Dean had to know. Despite everything, all of his anger and grudge-holding, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else until he knew. With a pang, Dean remembered waking up in the hospital, Cas sitting next to him. He quite literally hasn’t left your side. The least Dean could do now was check up on him.

“Days Inn,” he muttered to himself as he started the car, trying to remember how to get to KU from the apartment. He almost stopped and turned around more than once. Seeing Cas on a normal day was bad enough, but seeing him bruised and bloodied… Dean tried not to think about it. Just making sure he’s okay, he told himself. He’d do the same for me.

Finally, he reached the motel. It was still relatively dark out. He parked the Impala at the back of the building, triple-checking that he had locked it, before making his way to the front desk.

“Mornin’,” he greeted the woman behind the counter. “I was wonderin’...” He paused mid-sentence as something caught his eye from the breakfast seating area. A man, nursing a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper, his dark hair sticking up in twelve different directions.

“Nevermind,” Dean said. He made his way to the table.

“You look like shit,” Dean said by way of a greeting. Cas jumped, nearly toppling his cup. He took a deep breath as Dean sat across from him, folding his arms across his chest.

He really did look awful. Under the guise of concern, he let himself look at Cas, really look at him. Dean took stock of the black eye and complementary swollen cheek, but his eyes lingered on the full lips and stubbled jaw. Still the same. Maddeningly beautiful.

“Dean,” Cas grumbled, and he sounded like shit, too. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the area,” he said, aiming for blasé. Cas sipped his coffee. Dean leaned back in his chair and asked, “So, were you gonna tell me you got mugged?”

Cas cleared his throat. “What?”

“Saw the sheriff this morning. She told me some poor travelin’ dude got mugged outside of a bar.” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Sound familiar?”

Cas sighed and folded his hands together. “Yes,” he said. “It was rather unfortunate.”

Dean studied him for a moment, flipping between anger and concern. Cas had texted him after the incident, hadn’t bothered to mention it. “You okay?” He said finally, deciding it was too early to get mad.

“Yes,” Cas said again. “I suppose they were just sober enough to land a punch.” He gestured at his eye. “I believe they just wanted cash, and I’m sure the ID of a twenty-two year old was desirable as well.” He sighed once more. “I’m just glad they didn’t take my phone.”

“What were you doin’ down there, anyway?” Dean asked.

Cas gave him a look. “I think, based on my current state, that you can infer the nature of my outing.”

And, yeah, he looked horribly hungover, in addition to everything else. Dean rolled his eyes. “Sure. I mean, why were you getting sloshed at, like, the worst college bar in town?”

Cas laughed, but it was mirthless. “It is not of import.”

“Wh —” Dean interrupted himself with a frustrated sigh. “Okay.” He was tapping the table with two fingers. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have come. “Why are you staying here, anyway?” He asked, just to have something to say. “This place sucks.”

“Because you told me that I would be in Lawrence for upwards of two weeks,” Cas explained. “The rooms are inexpensive.”

Dean just stared at him. Of course Cas would find the cheapest shithole in town. A wave of guilt rushed over him. What was wrong with him? He and Bobby were the ones who wouldn’t be able to fix Cas’s car until after Christmas. Cas was stuck here because of them, because of him, and Dean couldn’t just give up his couch for a week? If he had just done that in the first place, Cas probably wouldn’t have a black eye.

Logically, Dean knew this train of thought made next to no sense. The rational side of him knew he was placing undue blame on himself for situations beyond his control.

That knowledge didn’t make the pain in his chest subside.

Dean couldn’t just leave Cas in that hotel lobby, hungover and nursing a black eye, no driver’s license, no money. He considered his options for a moment. He could send him to Bobby’s. But, no, that would invite raised eyebrows and lots of questions. Bobby was out. He could pay for Cas to stay at a better hotel, one closer to the shop. A quick estimation told him that was a thousand-dollar choice. Not happening. Dean groaned internally. He was the world’s biggest idiot.

“Come on, you’re checking out,” he said gruffly, standing up.

“What?” Cas stayed resolutely in his seat. “Dean, I’m not going to waste money on accommodations, this is fine.”

“Oh yeah, it’s great, I can tell,” Dean said, the words dripping with sarcasm. “You’re staying at my place.”

Cas looked at Dean like he’d just grown a third head. “You’ve been consistently upset at me since the moment you saw me. I don’t think cohabiting is wise.”

Dean cringed. “Choice of words, Cas,” he mumbled. He yanked Cas up by the arm. “Look, man, I owe you one, anyway. Just…” He didn’t finish his sentence. Cas shifted out of Dean’s grasp.

“You owe me for… What, exactly?” Cas said, eyes searching Dean’s face. Dean tugged at the collar of his sweatshirt.

“You drove me to the hospital,” he muttered.

“Bobby said he’d fix my car for free if I did.”

Of course he did. “Yeah, well, you stayed until I woke up.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Because I felt responsible for your concussion.”

Dean tilted his head back, begging the ceiling for strength. “Look, man, I’m just trying to be nice.”

“What a pleasant change in demeanor,” Cas deadpanned.

“You’re being a fucking idiot,” Dean said, exasperated.

“Charming,” Cas said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re selling your invitation beautifully.”

Dean glared at him. “Are you coming, or not?”

“All right,” Cas relented, but sounded reluctant.

Dean let out a sigh of relief. Cas retrieved his bags and checked out at the front desk as Dean waited impatiently at the Impala. The sun had just begun to rise when the two pulled out of the parking lot.

“I’d make Sam take the couch,” Dean said as he drove, “But he’s a giant. Sorry. It’s probably still better than that crappy motel.”

Cas kept his gaze out the passenger window. “Your brother is here?”

It occurred to Dean that the last time Sam and Cas had talked, it was under very different circumstances. He’d almost forgotten Cas’s Christmas in Lawrence. Dean berated himself silently once more. Hadn’t he just gotten into an argument with Sam about the man sitting in his passenger seat? What was he supposed to tell him? Hey, remember when I told you to never speak of my old roommate again? He’s staying with us.

If Dean was honest, he couldn’t even justify the situation to himself. He’d spent months broken over Cas, then years pissed at him. Maybe he was some kind of masochist.

Dean sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah. He’s home from school for the holidays.”

Cas murmured in understanding. “He’s attending college?”

“University of Texas,” Dean said, and he couldn’t keep the pride from his voice.

“I look forward to seeing him again,” Cas said. “It’s been a long time.”

Maybe it was the implication behind the words, or the way Cas said them. Dean felt a pang in his chest for the friendship they’d once had. In the early morning light, with Cas in his passenger seat, he could almost believe they’d never lost it. He could almost convince himself that Cas had just moved away. That they saw each other sometimes, grabbed a cup of coffee, reminisced about the old days. No bad blood, just fond memories. The kind of friendship that sits in the back of the sock drawer, a pleasant surprise when it’s found.

Almost.

Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel. That wasn’t reality, he reminded himself. They had lost that friendship, and there was plenty of bad blood. Dean had made his choices. Cas had made his. Pretending otherwise didn’t do him any good.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Dean turned on the stereo, and “Whole Lotta Love” played softly through the speakers. The drive that had earlier felt like an eternity now seemed all too fast. Dean was not looking forward to explaining to Sam why Castiel Novak was their new roommate for the foreseeable future.

Dean pulled into the parking lot. He rubbed his face with one hand, tried to remind himself that this was the nice thing to do, that this was what he would do for anyone else, and so he should do it for Cas. Even if Cas made him feel like he’d put his life back together with dollar store glitter glue, and it was about to fall apart at one misplaced breath.

Seeming to sense Dean’s discomfort, Cas said, “Dean, you don’t have to do this.” His voice was measured, but it had a near-pleading tone. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Dude, no, you’re not,” Dean replied, and he felt like screaming. Couldn’t he do one nice thing, just one?

Cas rolled his eyes, a full-body movement. “Like I said, I know you’re angry at me. I also know you don’t wish to talk about it,” he added, seeing Dean open his mouth to say just that. “And I don’t wish to cause you strife every time you decide to use your kitchen or watch television.” Cas sighed, a heavy thing. “I appreciate the gesture.”

Dean closed his eyes. Counted to five. Breathed out. “Cas,” he said. He was doing his best to keep his tone neutral, but Cas was being stubborn, and he didn’t have the energy for that. “Just… Let me do this. Let’s just go inside. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll kick your ass back to the friggin’ Days Inn.”

Cas eyed him for a moment, as if attempting to discover the meaning behind his sudden kindness. Dean told himself he was doing what he would do for anyone. The gesture was devoid of feeling. He was going through the motions of being a good person.

Finally, Cas relented. He opened the door and moved to the trunk to retrieve his luggage. Dean rolled his shoulders and followed suit.

“You mind hanging out here for a sec?” Dean asked. “I gotta talk to Sam.”

Cas just nodded, shifting awkwardly on his feet. Dean locked his car and made the ascent to his door.

Dean got to work on a pot of coffee. He almost hoped that Sam wouldn’t wake from the noise, that he could put off the coming conversation as long as possible. But, of course, Sam woke up almost the moment the machine finished brewing.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Dean said as Sam sat up. “Coffee?”

Sam nodded groggily. “Morning.”

Dean brought him a cup and sat on the couch across from the air mattress. “How’d you sleep?” He asked, stalling.

Sam gave him a curious look. “Uh… Fine, actually. This thing isn’t as uncomfortable as I thought.”

“Good,” Dean said. He was bouncing his leg, trying to figure out what to say. “Um.” Great start.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “What?” He said.

“Nothing,” Dean said. Then, “I just wanted to, uh. Well. Look, sorry for being a dick last night.”

Sam’s eyes widened at him over his mug. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“What?” Dean replied. “I’m fine, dude, why?”

“Well, it’s just…” Sam trailed off and took another sip. “We don’t really do the whole ‘apologizing after arguments’ thing.” He gave Dean a look. “No chick flick moments and all that.”

“Right,” Dean said. “Yeah, no, I know, I just. I felt kinda bad. You didn’t mean to, uh… Anyway.”

Sam gave a little laugh. “Okay,” he said slowly.

“So.” Dean cleared his throat. He should just say it. “Cas is staying here for a while.”

Sam choked on his coffee. After a fit of coughing, he looked at Dean with wide eyes. “What? When — did you — What?”

“He got mugged last night at some bar,” Dean said, looking resolutely at the ground. “So I, uh, I picked him up. I owe him one, you know, for drivin’ me to the hospital and all that.”

Sam eyed him with a mixture of shock and suspicion. “I thought you were pissed at him.” He sat up a little straighter. “Actually, if I remember this right, you’ve been so pissed at him for the last three years that I haven’t been allowed to talk about him.”

Dean clasped his hands together and hung his head. “Look, man, I felt bad, okay? I was being dumb not offering in the first place. The dude’s gonna be here at least until the end of next week.” He finally looked up at Sam and gave a shrug, aiming for nonchalance and missing it by about three miles. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Sam looked unconvinced. “Where’s he gonna sleep?”

“Couch.”

“Right. And you’re gonna be totally cool with him around?” Dean didn’t answer. “That’s what I thought.” He sighed. “What the hell are you doing, man?”

“I told you,” Dean grumbled. “The right thing.”

Sam looked at him with so much pity that it made Dean squirm. “You want me to send him back?” He almost hoped Sam would say yes, give him an excuse to be the total asshole he was.

“No!” Sam said quickly. “No, I’m excited to see Cas. Damn, it’s been a while. I just… Confused. Last night —”

“He’s outside,” Dean interrupted quietly.

“What?” Sam exclaimed. He jumped up from the air mattress. “Cas is here? Right now?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?” Dean grumbled.

Sam rolled his eyes and made for the front door. He threw it open, and Dean followed behind him, rolling his eyes at the dramatics.

They descended the single flight of stairs. Cas was leaning against the Impala, his small suitcase leaning at his right. Dean felt a smile tug at his lips. The guy hadn’t accumulated much since he’d last seen him, apparently. Seeing Cas smile at Sam, standing next to the Impala, Dean felt that same feeling. Like nothing had changed. He pushed it away.

“Cas!” Sam said, all happiness. “Dude, it’s so great to see you.” He wrapped the other man into a hug. Cas hugged him back with a small smile, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. Dean stood a ways back, his arms crossed.

“Sam,” he said once they’d parted. “It’s very good to see you, too.”

“How have you been? Where have you been? You graduated already?”

Dean spoke up at that. “Sam, enough questions, the dude just got the shit beat out of him, like, eight hours ago.”

Cas gave him a hard look. “I didn’t get the ‘shit beat out of me,’” he grumbled, punctuating the phrase with air quotes. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Damn, Cas,” Sam said, squinting at the black eye, as if he’d just realized it. “That looks like it hurts.”

“It’s fine,” Cas said.

Sam let out a huff of laughter. Dean raised an eyebrow and shoved him in the back. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam said, regaining his composure. “It’s just… Maybe you two are bad luck together.” He gestured at Dean, “First, you get concussed—” and then at Cas, “—and you get a black eye.” He shrugged. “Kinda funny.”

Dean glared at him. Cas gave him a smile that said in bright neon letters, “this is me, humoring you.”

“Whatever,” Dean said. “Are y’all hungry? I’m gonna make breakfast.”

Sam grinned. “Yes!” He turned to Cas. “Dean makes the best breakfast.”

Cas gave him a small, sad smile. “I know.”

Sam’s grin faltered at that, and Dean was already regretting this whole altruistic move. He just turned and made his way back up to the apartment, Sam and Cas close behind him.

Dean tried to focus on the sizzling of the frying pan instead of Sam’s animated conversation with Cas about how he’d gotten into UT with a scholarship and was studying political science on the pre-law track. His ears betrayed him when Sam asked Cas about his last three years.

“Well, I… I finished that first year at Wichita State, off-campus. I transferred to the University of Oklahoma for the last five semesters. They have an excellent accounting program,” he added, as if that explained everything. Dean could feel his eyes on him, could practically taste the trepidation in his voice. “I was fortunate enough to intern at a firm in Kansas City last summer.”

“That’s where you’re headed?” Sam asked. Cas nodded.

“Hold on,” Sam said. “You said you finished your first year at WSU? So you were in Wichita until —”

Dean coughed loudly. He wished he could have chosen something louder for breakfast, like a smoothie. He plated up the eggs and bacon and offered a dish to Sam and Cas.

“Thank you,” Cas said, all-too earnestly. Sam just rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“‘S no problem,” Dean said. He grabbed his own plate and shoveled the food into his mouth, despite his appetite having abruptly left him at the revelation that Cas had been in Wichita far longer than he’d thought.

The three of them ate in relative silence, broken occasionally by Sam’s attempts at small-talk. Dean got up and poured the rest of the coffee into a mug, silently setting it down before Cas. When he was met with raised eyebrows, Dean only shrugged.

Dean saw more of Lawrence that weekend than he had in the past three years. He tagged along with Sam to the outlet mall, then dragged his brother to his favorite burger place and the local pie shop downtown. He left the apartment at eight on Sunday to take the Impala to the do-it-yourself car wash. He spent four hours detailing the car, in and out, top to bottom. Once that was finished, he voluntarily went into the shop to finish billing paperwork that Bobby hadn’t gotten to. When the stacks of paper were no more, he even drove all the way across town to one of his old bartending spots to catch up with his former coworkers.

It turned out, living with Cas was easy if Dean never saw him.

Dean knew his avoidance scheme was obvious, but what else could he do? Being in the same room as Cas for more than ten minutes made his head pound, and he was ninety percent sure it wasn’t his concussion. So Sam could raise his eyebrows all he wanted, Dean would still find all manner of errands to run and things to do.

On Monday, he went back to see Dr. Barnes. She checked him over and determined that his stitches could be removed.

“Thank god,” Dean muttered as she updated his chart. “Does that mean I can go back to work?”

She gave him a look. “How are your concussion symptoms?”

“Nonexistent,” he said, and that was mostly true. He still tried to avoid sudden changes of elevation, and he wasn’t about to start blaring music again, but no more pulsing headaches or light sensitivity.

“I suppose you can get back in the shop, as long as you’re careful,” Dr. Barnes replied. “You don’t work on Christmas, do you?”

Dean shook his head.

“Well, it definitely wouldn’t hurt to take the whole week off and go back after the holiday,” she pointed out.

“But I could go back. If my boss needed me,” Dean said.

Dr. Barnes smiled. “Yes.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he could get Cas’s car done earlier than he thought.

After his stitches were out, he thanked Dr. Barnes and made his way back to the Impala. He was almost smiling as he made his way to the shop. No stitches, no concussion, and soon, no Cas living in his apartment. His life was going back to normal.

Dean walked into the office, and Bobby looked at him with murder on his face.

“You idjit, you’re not —”

Dean waved a paper at him. “Doctor said I’m cleared for work,” he said smugly.

Bobby narrowed his eyes and gestured for the paper. Dean handed it to him, and he scrutinized its contents intently. With a grunt, he returned the paper to Dean and crossed his arms.

“How much you pay her to say that?” He said.

Dean smirked. “C’mon Bobby, I wouldn’t do that.” Bobby scoffed in disbelief. “You looked at Cas’s car yet?”

Bobby sighed. “Not yet. Bunch of oil changes with holiday travel and shit. I’ll pull it into a bay if you wanna have a look.”

Dean nodded eagerly.

Once Cas’s ninety-something Honda Civic was parked, Dean lifted the hood and started diagnostics. Apparently, the car had just stopped in the middle of the road. There was gas in the tank, Dean noted with relief. Some people ran down to empty and then got confused why the engine died. He checked the alternator, no problems there. He had Bobby turn the ignition while he listened to the fuel pump, but it was working, too.

He sighed as he reached for a compression gauge. If Bobby had been right, and the valves really were bent, he was going to have a fit.

Sure enough, half of the valves wouldn’t hold pressure. Dean groaned. He would have to replace the timing belt, too, then. Bobby was going to regret that promise of a free fix. More than that, though, Dean was regretting his promise of free lodging. Fixing Cas’s car, even if it was the only one he had to deal with, would take at least three full days. But he and Bobby really were packed with maintenance appointments, and they always had dinky little repair jobs around the holidays. Cas was stuck in Lawrence for at least another week. He’d be there for Christmas.

Dean relayed the news to Bobby, who just shrugged and grumbled about how Dean’s concussion was about to cost him three grand between labor and parts. Dean spent the rest of the day changing oil and air filters, performing alignments, rotating tires. It felt good to be back in the shop.

He called Sam on his way home, and his brother insisted that Dean make burgers for dinner. Dean had forgotten he’d be cooking for three until Sam started talking about his second day spent with Cas. Apparently, in Dean’s absence, they had become great buddies, talking about all kinds of nerd stuff Dean didn’t bother to commit to memory.

“Hold on,” Sam said while Dean was in Wal-Mart getting dinner materials. Dean heard a door open and close on the other line before Sam began speaking again.

“Are you gonna get his car done before Christmas?” He asked.

“Definitely not,” Dean said, throwing two pounds of ground beef into his basket. “The valves are bent, which means the timing belt’s fucked too. He’s stuck here until Monday, best case scenario.”

“You should invite him to Bobby’s, then.”

Dean almost dropped the buns in his hand. “I should what?”

“Come on, Dean, the poor guy’s gonna have to spend Christmas alone, otherwise,” Sam whined.

“Dude, not happening.”

“You’re being an idiot.”

“Sam, you have no idea what you’re asking,” Dean argued as he made his way to the self-checkout. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to avoid Cas, not induct him into the family.”

Sam huffed on the other line. “You’re right, I don’t know what I’m asking, but that’s only because you refuse to tell me what happened.”

“It’s really not that complicated,” Dean grumbled. “He didn’t want a damn thing to do with me. Ask him.”

“I already did, and he wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“What?” Dean was doing his best to keep from shouting in the middle of the busy store. “Why would you do that?”

“You just told me I should!” Sam retorted.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have done it without asking me first!” Dean hissed. He yanked his credit card from the machine and waited impatiently for his receipt to print.

Sam groaned. “Look, that’s not the point —” “What’s the point, Sam?” Dean demanded. The frigid December air was welcome against his face, hot with frustration. “I don’t need you playing Dr. Phil for me and Cas, okay? I can handle my own bullshit.”

“Whatever,” Sam muttered.

Dean took a deep breath as he got into the car. “I’m leaving Wal-Mart now. I’ll see you at home, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Sam was uncharacteristically silent as Dean prepared the meal. He had some documentary playing on the TV. Cas was sitting in the armchair, reading a book. When the burgers were done, Dean delivered a plate to each of them.

“I’m gonna FaceTime Eileen,” Sam announced, getting up to leave the room.

“While you’re eating?” Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Sam rolled his eyes and closed Dean’s bedroom door behind him. Dean shook his head.

An awkward silence settled over the living room as Dean and Cas ate their burgers. It was the first time they’d been alone since Dean had picked him up from the motel.

“This is very good,” Cas said at the same moment Dean said, “I looked at your car.”

Dean blushed at the compliment. “Sorry,” he said. “Uh, glad you like it.”

Cas gave a single nod. “You looked at my car?”

“Yeah, uh, bad news,” Dean said, taking a sip of his beer. “Half of your valves are fucked.” At Cas’s vacant stare, he elaborated, “My guess is your timing belt is banged up. It’s causing the pistons to fire out of time, so they hit the valves wrong. The cylinders can’t keep pressure if the valves don’t work. That’s why your engine died.”

Cas furrowed his brow. “What should I do to keep that from happening?”

“Not much you can do ‘sides replace the belt every hundred thousand miles or so. They just kind of break.”

“How long will the repair take?”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the bad news. You’re stuck here for at least another week. Sorry, man, it’s just… Christmas, and all that.”

Cas gave a weak smile. “No apology necessary.” He took a sip of water. “How’s your head?”

“All better,” Dean said. “Doc took the stitches out today.”

“I noticed.”

“Said it would still probably scar, but at least I’m back in the shop.”

Cas gave a polite nod but didn’t say anything more. Dean took both their plates to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher. Dean got to work cleaning up the burger mess.

“What did you end up majoring in?” Cas asked, and the abrupt sound of his voice made Dean jump. He scrubbed the frying pan intently.

“Never did figure that out,” Dean replied gruffly.

“What?” Cas asked, confused. “Didn’t you finish at WSU?”

Dean put the pan on his drying rack and paused, gripping the edges of the counter, his head hanging low to his chest. He took a breath. Here it was, the conversation he hated having. The one that tattooed “I’m a massive failure” in block letters on his forehead.

“Nope,” he said. He turned around, a scowl on his face. The last person he needed to take shit from was Cas. “Do you think I’d be living in this dump if I had a degree?”

Cas’s brows knit together. “Your apartment is quite nice,” he said. “Why didn’t you finish?”

Dean shrugged, playing at nonchalance. “It was too hard,” he said, the same answer he gave everyone, because it was the most believable. It was the easiest. He could handle everyone thinking he was a grade-A idiot with a GED and a mechanic certification. He couldn’t handle the pity that came with admitting that he simply couldn’t put himself back together after his father died.

Cas looked doubtful. “Right,” he said after a moment.

Dean felt trapped under Cas’s scrutinous gaze. He cleared his throat, selecting the least exhausting of his many questions to push attention back to Cas.

“I’m still surprised you’re not some big-shot writer already,” he said, turning back to the kitchen. He set about wiping down the stovetop. “It always seemed like you were really into that stuff.” As a memory tickled the edges of his brain, he added, “Good at it, too.”

“Yes, well,” Cas said, letting out a slow breath. “By the spring of my freshman year, it became evident that my priorities were misplaced. I spent too much time writing, not enough time working on my accounting classes.” Cas paused as Dean replaced his cleaning supplies to their places under the sink. When he stood back up, Cas was giving him a meaningful look.

“And sometimes,” he said, deliberately, “Sometimes, the things we love can be bad for us, in the end. Despite how happy they might make us in the moment.”

Dean snorted. He knew Cas was trying to make some bigger point, but he wasn’t willing to follow him there. “I dunno,” he said. “Pretty much everything I love is always awesome.”

“Really,” Cas deadpanned.

“Yup,” Dean said with a nod. “Sam, Bobby, the rest of my family… Hell, they’re always good, always there when I need ‘em. I’ve always loved working on cars, and now that pays the bills. Pie. Obviously.” He held up his hands.

“Well, I’m elated that everything you’re passionate about has worked out for you,” Cas said, his tone caustic. “I suppose not everyone is so lucky.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment. Tension was rolling off Cas in waves. This was good, Dean could work with this. Cas looking at him with some unknown emotion, trying to talk about what happened… The thought alone gave him a headache. But Cas looking at him like he was doing his best not to murder him, like he was insufferable and ridiculous, that, he could face.

A week. He could do this for one week.

But Cas was rearranging his expression into something gentler, breathing deeply through the anger Dean was provoking.

“I know I’ve hurt you,” Cas said with a sigh. “And I know the last thing you want to do is talk about it,” he added, as Dean opened his mouth to say just that. Dean crossed his arms, his jaw set.

“I won’t bring it up again, I promise,” Cas said in earnest. “But you have to know, I only… It wasn’t intentional.” A pause. “I only left because you told me to go.”

Dean felt something cave in his chest. Everything went slack. “What?” He hissed.

Cas cocked his head, eyes narrowed. “Do you not remember?”

“Cas,” Dean said, his voice a poor attempt at measured, “What are you talking about?”

Cas just stared at him, confused and piteous. Before he could speak, Sam emerged from Dean’s room with his dirty plate.

“Thanks for dinner, Dean,” Sam said. He seemed to have calmed down from their earlier argument. “You wanna watch A New Hope tonight?”

Dean was still staring at Cas, who was studying the ground with great intensity. He barely heard Sam’s question.

“Yo,” Sam said, waving a hand in front of his face. “You hear me?”

Dean blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m beat, honestly,” he said. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay.”

Sam smirked at him. “You’re old, dude.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Night, Sammy,”

“Sleep well, old man,” Sam joked.

Dean turned and made his way to his room. He could vaguely hear Sam asking Cas what he wanted to watch, but his brain was swimming.

Thinking that maybe, probably, everything had been his fault, that was one thing. To hear it, straight from the source, from Cas…

I only left because you told me to go.

Dean closed his bedroom door behind him and grabbed the bottle of scotch from inside his desk. As he poured a generous glass, he sifted through his final memories with Cas, trying to find something that would make those words make sense. He might have spent the better part of that spring in a haze, but he was sure he would have remembered telling Cas to leave. All he could remember was waking up on the floor of their room one morning, his clothes reeking of whiskey, one half of the room empty.

That was a bad day. He’d completely blacked out the night before, and still felt pretty drunk when he’d woken up. He remembered calling Cas over and over again. Eventually, the calls stopped ringing out and started going straight to voicemail. Dean hadn’t left the room that day, despite having a full day of classes. He didn’t shower. He simply remained in the same spot, feeling more and more hopeless as the minutes went by. In his desperation, he’d even called Meg. She told him that Cas had left and that he should delete both their numbers. She called him a fuck-up. She spoke with so much hatred that Dean couldn’t even get a word in before she hung up on him.

Losing his dad, that was one thing. Losing Cas, after everything…

Dean finished his drink and poured another. Downed it in one sip.

If he hadn’t already, Dean had hit rock bottom when Cas left. Long nights bled into longer days. When he eventually realized that, without Cas, no one noticed when he skipped class, or didn’t come home, or didn’t eat, he just stopped. He didn’t open a textbook for the rest of the semester, he crashed on any and every stranger’s couch, he lived off of beer and liquor and the occasional dining hall burger.

Dean stripped off his clothes, the alcoholic haze just beginning to slow his movements. He turned on the shower and got in, the scalding water providing a welcome touch of pain. He stood there, the scotch progressively settling into its neural blockade, but failing to quiet the echoing of Cas’s words.

At first, he had blamed himself. Of course Cas left, because who would have stayed? Dean was a fuck-up, just like Meg said. John had known it, and he’d never let Dean forget it, as if Dean needed any help remembering. He couldn’t protect Sam from John, not all the time. He couldn’t even make it past sixteen without adopting a crippling nicotine addiction. Worst of all, he couldn’t suffer through four more years at home. If he could have done that, if he could have just stayed a little longer, John would have still been alive. Sam wouldn’t have been an orphan at fourteen.

At some point, though, it wasn’t enough to be angry at himself. Because, sure, he was a disaster of a human being, but Cas had known that. He’d seen all of the bullshit, and Cas still… They were still friends. Or, he’d at least let Dean think they were. But how could they have been? The second Dean needed him, really needed him, Cas had bailed.

The shower was spinning. Dean turned off the head and stumbled out, having no idea how long he’d been standing there. He towelled off and haphazardly threw on a pair of underwear before collapsing into his bed.

He laid there for a moment, eyes closed, sinking into the false gyration of the room. Sam and Cas were talking in low voices in the living room, but Dean couldn’t pick out a single word. He opened the drawer in his bedside table, fumbling around for his headphones. His fingers brushed a stack of paper. Dean frowned and pulled it out.

It was nearly fifty pages, front and back. The paper was crumpled all over; stains dappled the text. The first page was blank, save a note written in neat, blue script.

I couldn’t have written this without you. Thank you. Merry Christmas.

-CN

Dean flipped through the pages for what could have been the millionth time. He wasn’t reading the lines of text, only catching a few words here and there.

Dean was staring at the cover page again when a knock sounded at his door.

“Yeah,” Dean said gruffly, setting the papers on his nightstand.

He’d been expecting Sam, but it was Cas who poked his head around the door. “Dean?” He said, “I’m going to use your shower, if that’s all right.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Sure,” he said. “No problem.”

Cas made his way to the bathroom, but stopped dead at the bedside table. He was staring at the papers.

“You kept this?” He said in a strangled voice.

Dean didn’t even look at him, just muttered something incomprehensible in affirmation.

“Dean…” His voice was damn-near pleading. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, willing his mind back to languid blankness.

And maybe it was the scotch, maybe it was the feeling of Cas staring at him, maybe it was the pages filled with Cas’s words that Dean had read so many times he’d almost memorized it. Whatever it was, his head was pounding, and the effort of holding his grudge suddenly seemed worthless. He could avoid and irritate Cas for a week. Or…

“Can we just forget about it?” Dean said.

“What?” Cas replied.

“All of it. Everything,” Dean said, and he knew he wasn’t making sense, but he didn’t care. “Just… Water under the bridge. Start over.”

Cas was quiet for a moment before muttering a tentative, “Sure.”

“Good,” Dean said, and he was suddenly very tired. “G’night.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas said, somewhere between sadness and hope.

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taglist! lemme know if u wanna be added :]

@nguyenxtrang @castielsbeeslippers

#destiel #supernatural #deancas #destiel fic

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rogerstoast · 4 years

Text

Pizza Delivery Boy // Roger Taylor x female reader

Summary: reader is staying in for the night, and orders a pizza. both reader and roger are left stumbling at the door when they are both hungry for more than just a pizza.

Request: @comehereroger this girl literally gave me the idea I love her! Thank her for this!

Warnings: Fluff, flirting, a bit of smut, kinda dirty.

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You plopped down on the couch after a stressful week of tests and finals, prepared to sleep and do absolutely nothing this winter break. All you wanted more than anything was to relax and take in your surroundings. But the loud grumble erupting from your stomach said otherwise. It’s about dinner time anyways, but you were too lazy to get up and actually have to cook something. Nonetheless, you reached over to grab the phone resting on your coffee table, ready to order a pizza for one on your night in.

“Rocky’s pizza! What can I get ya?” A voice answered on the phone.

“Can I get an extra large cheese pizza? With some muchrooms, and uhh... extra sausage?” You ordered, mouth already watering at the thought of your dinner.

“Sure thing. Anything else?”

“That’s it.”

“Your total is $10.75. Pick up or delivery ma’am?”

“Delivery please!” Pff, like you were going to pick up a pizza three blocks away. The thought of having to get up from the couch to eventually answer the door was tiring enough.

*25 minutes later*

You sat all cuddled in on your couch, a soft tune playing on the record player throughout the apartment, as you switched between channels finding something to watch. All of sudden, you hear a knock at the door.

Pizza time baby.

Groaning in response, you slowly got up from the couch and trotted to the door. You unlock the door, and open it. Holy—well hello there, you thought. He must be new, never seen him before.

“Pizza delivery, for uhhh,” he squinted his eyes at the receipt, “y/n?” He asked in a soft, deep voice. His hair was blond and wavy, almost made you want to run your fingers through it. And the way the tight red T-shirt perfectly fit his toned body almost made you weak at the knees. But what killed you the most was the smile he shot at you once your eyes met each other’s. Those god damn eyes. Shit, snap out of it y/n.

You stumbled over your words, “uhh yeah that’s me.” You smiled back. Fuck, I can’t just give him the money, you thought. Screw it, it’s Friday, what’ve I got to lose?

“extra sausage right?” Really y/n?! Did you seriously just fucking ask that? Idiot.

He chuckled and blushed a bit, “I think so. Would you like to check?” *sir?? excuse you?* “You know, to see that they got the order right?” He asked, opening the box.

And they sure did, extra large sausage too.

You nervously chuckled, trying to keep your cool. “H-how much do I owe you?” You asked.

He leaned against the doorframe as your proximity to each other minimized by a couple inches. “I don’t think it really matters love, it’s on me.” He said, shooting another smirk your way as his looked up and down your body, subtly taking you in.

Ah Fuck.

“A-are you sure? You don’t have to, really—“

“No no no, it’s fine honestly. Don’t worry about it love.” He insisted. “I’m Roger, by the way.”

Roger. Good name. Quick y/n, uh, be sexy!

“Say, Roger. I don’t know if I’ll be able to eat this whole thing by myself,” you smirk up at him with a mischievous look in your eyes, “do you maybe wanna come inside and help me, finish it?” Dang, I am on fire tonight.

He leaned in a bit closer, one arm resting on the frame while the other held the pizza. Yet, whatever cologne we was wearing overpowered the smell of the food, and began to captivate you even more.

“Oh love, I thought you’d never ask,” he nearly growled at you, your faces merely inches apart as his eyes flicked down to your lips a few times.

“Oh yeah?” You smirked up at him, biting your lip.

“Yeah.” He looked down at your lips and licked his own. Message received.

“Why don’t you come inside then?” You ask a bit more seductively, placing your hand over his arm that carries the pizza, signaling to pull him in.

Within in seconds, he pushed himself in, throwing the pizza on the nearest table, pushing you against the door as it slammed shut. He pushed his lips against yours in a slow yet passionate kiss, as his hands traveled down to your waist, lightly squeezing your sides. In response, you threw your arms around his neck, tangling one of your hands through his soft hair. You deepened the kiss, as he slid a hand down to your ass and gave it a quick squeeze. As you let a slight moan escape, he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip begging for entrance. You let him in to explore your mouth, as you did the same with his. Tongues intertwining, fighting for dominance. You let him overtake you, you couldn’t help how good he tasted. He smiled against your lips, letting out slight moans all while letting his hands travel below your ass even more.

“Up.” He grunted against your already swollen lips. You didn’t hesitate to listen, jumping up and wrapping both your legs around his toned torso.

You continued your heated make out session, cupping his jaw to bring his face closer to yours if that was even possible. He pushed you up more against the door, until you felt something poking against your lower abdomen.

You broke apart momentarily, “bedrooms down the hall.” In response he placed his soft lips back onto yours, smiling as he began to trail his wet kisses down your neck. All the while racing the two of you to the bedroom.

He slammed the door open, and threw you on the bed, hovering his body over yours. Continuing to suck on your neck and the soft spot right below your ear, you were reaching down, and begging working with his belt. Roger lifted his shirt off, then yours each in a swift motion. He looked down shortly to admire the beauty that lay before him. You smirked up at him as his eyes took you all in.

“You do this often?” You asked in the heat of the moment.

“It’s only my first day on the job, you do the math.” He laughed lightly, reattaching his lips to yours.

His hands squeezed your hips, massaging and rubbing your sides all over. It felt so good, you were almost convinced this moment wasn’t real. You roamed your hands up his back, slightly digging your nails in it leaving red marks all over. until they were back in his hair. You lightly tugged at it, moans escaping his mouth as he brought his face to burrow into your neck, sucking and bitting your smooth skin. Roger reached one of his hands up to cup your covered breast, massaging it, still planting a wide display of hickies all over your chest.

“Rog, feels so good,” you moaned out. He reached back and unhooked your bra easily, like a fucking pro. Who is this man?

Roger fed off of your desire for more, as he reached down, prepared to rub his fingers where you were in desperate need of some friction. Just as fingers began to peel back the soaking wet, thin lining covering your entrance, something just HAD to go wrong.

*ring ring* *ring ring*

“Fuck.”

“What Roger. What is it?” You ask, confused as to why he just stopped.

Roger groans in annoyance, kissing you on the lips quickly before getting off you and stumbling to put his pants back on. It was his boss calling him in for another order he needed to deliver.

“I forgot I actually have to work,” he laughed to himself, “I’m sorry love i have to go, wouldn’t want to get fired on the first day for being late.”

Although you were merely disappointed that the two of you were unable to finish, he was in a way total stranger, who also had to do his job.

“It’s alright Rog. Maybe next time we can finish what we’ve started here tonight?” You asked, pulling the sheets up to cover your chest.

Roger had his shirt half way over his head till he froze. “Next time?” He mumbled through the fabric.

You chuckled and threw on the robe from the side of your bed. “Yes, next time. I really want to see you again Roger.”

Roger now was fully clothed and walked towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you placed your hands on his arms. He looked down at you and smiled. He saw something in you. He was thrilled that you wanted to see him again, because he wanted to see you again too.

“Yeah, id like that.” He hummed in response.

You beamed up at him. You were still in a bit of a shock and what was about to go down between the two of you. Two complete strangers who don’t know a thing about each other. Literally in your bed about to fuck because of a fucking pizza. Damn that extra large sausage.

As you walked him to your door, he left a passionate kiss on your lips. Except he didn’t stop. He was still craving for your touch. After all, neither of you got to finish. You opened the door and pushed him out a bit, breaking the kiss.

“Oh come on!” He complained with that stupid smirk across his face.

“Maybe next time pizza boy.”

“That next time better be tomorrow night because if you—“

You rolled your eyes laughing to yourself as you slammed the door in his face. If only he knew how hungry you were for tomorrow nights dinner. Maybe even hungry enough to call for another pizza in an hour. Or even better, just a good old extra large sausage.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Laws of Motion / Chapter 7 (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Chapter Summary: With a click of the remote the image changed. There was a picture that Trixie had taken, when they went vintage shopping a few weeks back. Katya had gone crazy in the home-decor isle. The lamp instantly stole her heart, with its big shade and the detailed design of a monkey carved into the wood of the base. She held the ornament and pretended to lick it as Trixie snapped the shot. It had been such a fun day. Trixie shook the memory out of her mind. She needed to focus, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to continue.

AO3 Link

Chapter 7 - Green.

“How could you let this happen?!”

Ginger Minj made her way across the bullpen. Her steps resounded in the echo of the open space, making the small heels sound louder.

Trixie lifted her head from the papers in her hand. It took a moment for her tired eyes to focus on the angry woman marching her direction. Her ears didn’t even catch the sound of wheels going across the floor until Violet appeared in front of her, still sitting on her desk chair, with her arms stretched in front of herself, figuratively creating a barrier between the two women.

“Girl, don’t,” Violet said firmly but quietly, slowly rising to her feet.

“You were supposed to protect her!” Ginger screamed, her arm snaking under Violet’s and a finger pointing at Trixie. “That’s what partners are for.”

Violet wrapped her arm around Ginger’s shoulder, preventing her from walking any further. “Minj, they were not on the clock.”

Trixie could only see Violet’s back, but she pictured her face being stern, just like the tone of her voice.

“That doesn’t matter!” Ginger’s voice sounded broken, tinted with unshed tears. “Have you seen her, V? She’s in a hospital bed, tubes connected everywhere. Lord.”

The muscles on Violet’s back seemed to contract as she stood a little too straight. “I have. I have seen her, and I know that’s not Trixie’s fault.” She moved to the side, just enough for Trixie to see sadness taking over her features. There was nothing anybody could have done to prevent this. No matter how many scenarios each detective had created in their mind, the reality was still the same.

Ginger’s eyes opened wide as she directed her stare between the two women. “You have got to be kidding me. Are you defending her now?” Ginger was almost screaming again; probably hating now more than ever that she needed to look up to find Violet’s eyes. What she lacked in height, she made up for in attitude. “Weren’t you the one calling me, saying that you just couldn’t stand her?”

A look of surprise took over Trixie’s face. Her hands went up in confusion, not only because the two women were talking about her as if she wasn’t standing right there, but because she was just learning her coworker didn’t like her.

“Uh, I’m literally right here, guys.”

Violet turned to face her for a second before she returned her attention to Ginger. “You don’t know what’s the story. Come, let’s talk.” She tried to get a hold of Ginger’s elbow, to direct her towards the break room, but Ginger wasn’t having it.

“I don’t need to talk with y’all. You seem to be making a mess out of everything you touch. I thought I would come out here and show you how it’s done.”

“You are here because I called you.” Captain Charles stood under the doorframe of his office, his hands clasped together solemnly. “Briefing room, now.”

Everybody dropped what they were doing and obeyed the captain’s orders. Trixie took her usual seat, the same she had occupied since the first time she stepped inside that room. Her arms dropped on the table and her head landed in the crook of her own elbows. For the first time in ages, she didn’t have to worry about her makeup getting ruined, she removed it a couple of days ago and didn’t bother to reapply it. She felt her greasy hair tickling her skin. She hadn’t been home in two days, and hadn’t taken a proper shower since the day before that.

Craig didn’t keep his promise. He didn’t call Trixie over the weekend, he called her that same Friday night. As soon as he got home, he noticed the door to Katya’s apartment was opened, and knew something wasn’t right. He walked in, without warning, and flipped the switch to turn the lights on. Nothing could have prepared him for the scene he found. Katya sat at her dinner table, her head hanging low, and a pool of blood at her feet.

After calling nine-one-one, he had called Trixie right away, who got there in a matter of minutes. They tried to get Katya to react to no avail. Trixie kept her finger firm on her pulse, and a towel at the back of Katya’s head, as they waited for the ambulance. Trixie rode with her, not wanting to let Katya out of her sight, and Craig followed them in his car.

Nobody would tell them anything for hours. The squad soon filled the waiting area of the emergency room, as they all silently prayed for the wellbeing of their dear friend. Roy would yell at the nurses, telling them what a horrible job they were doing at keeping up with the information. Captain Charles had to order him to either shut up or leave. In his kind manner, RuPaul requested the staff to keep them updated, since it was a very valuable agent of the law they were taking care of.

Kasha and Tempest went on a coffee run, and came back with steaming cups and old muffins for everyone. Trixie kept her tea in her hands, but didn’t drink it. The hot liquid wouldn’t make it past her throat, so she used it to warm her hands, which were cold with worry and uncertainty. She clung to Craig, asking him, over and over again, to describe the scene he found inside the apartment. He hadn’t seen anybody leaving, nor had he noticed anything unusual on his way up to their floor.

It took them two hours for the doctors to come out. Katya was okay. She had two broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. Besides that, her arms and legs were covered in scrapes and bruises. She had clearly put up a fight. The thing they were most concerned about was the gash on the back of her head. It appeared to be skin deep, yet they ran several scans and X-Rays to be sure. Her brain seemed undamaged, but they needed to wait until she woke up to be sure. It had been three days since then, and she still wouldn’t react.

The doctors wouldn’t force her to wake up. Her body needed time to recover and come back by itself. All they could do was wait. It was frustrating.

Trixie pushed her fist against the metallic table, and lifted her head. People were still filing inside the briefing room, tired bodies walked in one after the other. Everybody seemed exhausted, more so than any other Monday morning. Their faces showed something closer to sadness than anything else. Trixie hated that. It was time to put their best foot forward, to be at the top of their game. Trixie felt tired, gross, but she was nowhere near giving up.

Violet sat next to her, it was the last seat available in the room. The one Katya usually took since she partnered up with Trixie. People stayed cleared from it, maybe out of respect. Trixie wanted to scream at them. Katya wasn’t dead. If only she wasn’t as exhausted, Trixie would have slapped the sorrow out of their stupid faces as they stirred away from the empty chair. Finally, Violet took the seat, maybe because her usual one had been occupied by Ginger, but it felt like Violet wanted to be there for Trixie. She could tell as much when Violet smiled softly at her. Trixie only half returned the gesture before Captain Charles called everyone’s attention to the front.

“Thank you, everyone,” he started. “Thanks to everybody that showed up in the middle of the night, and those of you who have worked non stop over the weekend.” He nodded his head a couple of times, bracing himself, but also giving some time for the crew to realize they were going to touch a sensitive topic. “As all of you know, Detective Zamo was attacked last Friday night.” His voice was soft, delicate; a tender whisper. “Her home was apparently broken into, we are yet to determine that. Girl, did she put up a fight, Mamma!” He drawled his words and bobbed his head side to side, a proud smile playing on his lips. “Luckily, she was found less than an hour later by a neighbor and was attended to right away. She has been in intensive care since then.”

A burning feeling took over Trixie’s nape, it surely was all the stares that had fixated on her at once. The information had spread rather fast, everybody knew she had been the first one at the scene.

“The doctors are very hopeful. There was no internal damage, but she did receive a blow to the head that has kept her unconscious. Once she wakes up, they will know if any other areas were affected.”

The room was dead silent, the squad hung to every word that came out of the captain’s mouth. They cared. Katya was one of, if not the most cared about agent in the precinct, that love could be felt in the aura of concern that had taken over the entire place.

“Now, Detective Mattel will brief us about what’s been discovered so far.” He pointed in Trixie’s direction, letting her know it was her time to speak.

Violet squeezed Trixie’s hand slightly as she got up. Trixie looked down at the perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around her own, and for a moment tried to remember if this was the first time she felt Violet’s touch. It was unfamiliar but surprisingly soothing. She offered a small smile back before she made her way to the front and thanked the captain.

She was ready to stand behind the podium when he took hold of her forearm. “If you feel too close to the case, let me know. We can cover for you.”

“I’m fine,” she reassured him as firmly as she could, before taking the remote in her hand. “So Katya was hurt,” she said dryly. “Some bastard attacked her and we need to catch the motherfucker.”

The smiling face of her partner appeared on the screen and her jaw clenched, her stomach turned. It was the picture used for Katya’s ID. She was all big teeth and bright lipstick. Her eyes looked almost green through the lense, under the fluorescent lighting. Trixie couldn’t even look at that happy being. Hitting next, she presented several pictures of Katya’s apartment, from the door that was left open, to the couch that no longer touched the wall behind it. Katya’s place had been completely trashed. Sure, it was a mess to start with, but there were things that had been knocked down during the fight, furniture had been flipped and picture frames could be seen on the floor.

“The weapon was most likely this monkey lamp.”

With a click of the remote the image changed. There was a picture that Trixie had taken, when they went vintage shopping a few weeks back. Katya had gone crazy in the home-decor isle. The lamp instantly stole her heart, with its big shade and the detailed design of a monkey carved into the wood of the base. She held the ornament and pretended to lick it as Trixie snapped the shot. It had been such a fun day. Trixie shook the memory out of her mind. She needed to focus, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to continue.

“It was not found in the crime scene. The attacker must have taken it with them. They knew what they were doing. The idea is that they were not prepared for Katya to fight back so hard. That fit bitch.” The last words were more to herself, coming out almost in a whisper. “Other than the clear mess of the place, they left no trace of even being there. We found no fingerprints, not a single hair, not even spit. We have reasons to believe that Katya injured them pretty badly. All the blood samples that we found are at the lab, and they are trying to see if there’s any other than Katya’s.”

A hand was raised at the back. “Do we have any suspects?” Kennedy asked without waiting for Trixie to acknowledge her.

“I believe this has something to do with The Puppeteer. Not only because that was the last case she was involved in but, as you can see here, she was found sitting at her dinner table, same as all the victims.”

She stopped, giving her fellow detectives a moment to look at the next image. Just like she told them, Katya sat at the table, puddle of blood around her feet. Her face wasn’t painted, and her limbs didn’t have strings coming from the ceiling, but Trixie was almost sure it was somehow related to the killer.

“Didn’t you just close that case, though?” Ginger challenged from her seat.

Trixie nodded. “Yes. And Katya being attacked, right after the sentence was given, can’t be a coincidence. For as long as we worked the case, there were no indications that Manila Luzon had an accomplice. It could be a copy-cat, or a fan even, someone that heard about the M.O. and is trying to replicate it. They are obviously not very good at it.”

“That’s where we are going to need your help,” Sergeant Haylock intervened. “We need to see if anyone has been released recently, anyone that Katya caught that may want revenge. That bitch put a lot of freaks in jail. Any of those weirdos could be responsible for this.”

“Kasha and Tempest, can you help me get the info from her old cases? We need to check on anyone that was released over the last six months… a year even.” The duo nodded in sync to Trixie’s request. “Jasmine, Kennedy, please, go to her apartment building, find out if anybody noticed anything. See if you can get any footage from nearby stores or something.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jasmine responded right away. “Imma need you awake for this one, Jush.” She playfully pushed her partner who simply elbowed her back.

Despite the situation, Trixie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Violet, Ginger, you are working with me.”

Violet hummed an approval but, as was expected, Ginger complained right away. “Who said I wanted to work with you?”

Sergeant Haylock rolled his eyes with a loud huff. “Look, bitch, I know you are too busy, now that you joined the fucking circus, but leave the clown attitude at the tent, will you?” Ginger had no reply to that, she simply did her best attempt at crossing her arms over her large chest as the sergeant continued. “You both worked the case with Katya at different stages, that’s why you are working together.”

“We all are,” Trixie butted in. “Look, guys, we all love her, and we all want to see whoever did this to her pay for it. Let’s work together and catch this guy.”

Captain Charles dismissed the meeting once each member of the team had a task assigned.

Trixie walked with Violet and Ginger close behind her. The pair talked about what had transpired since the last time they saw each other, which was surprisingly not that long ago. Trixie wondered if they used those opportunities to talk about her. They made it clear they had commented on their shared dislike for her. She could very easily picture them at brunch, mimosas in their hands, laughing at how stupid one of her outfits was. Suddenly, Trixie felt very angry at them, at the hypothetical version of them roasting her over scrambled eggs and buttery toast.

“What is all this?” Ginger’s voice came from behind her, a tone of bewilderment lacing her words. Her fingers traced the pictures placed on a crock board. Her eyes followed the ribbons that went from wall to wall, connecting Katya’s friends and family members. There were notes and post-its with details next to each person.

“This is Katya’s life,” Violet answered with a side smile on her face. “Trixie,” she said as a way of explanation.

“You did all this…” Ginger turned to Trixie. “In just two days?”

Trixie shrugged one shoulder. “Yesterday. Spent the whole day with her on Saturday.”

Her mouth opened in surprised, Ginger practically had to pick her jaw from the floor to speak again. “This is… incredible.” Her eyes travelled through the many pieces of information. Everything that Katya liked was listed, all her favorite restaurants, cafés, even the parks she visited. Schedules of all the different classes Katya attended had being printed, and pictures of the instructors accompanied each pamphlet. “You really know her, huh?”

“I know her likes and interests,” Trixie said, dismissing Ginger’s words. “There are so many layers of her,” she exhaled in a sigh, the complexity of Katya overwhelming her yet again. “It’s really hard to fully know her. I try, though, I really do. She’s just too much, all at once, you know?”

A small chuckle escaped Ginger’s lips. “I do.” She nodded. “I miss that little nutcase.” Her eyes went once again to the board, where Katya smiled at her from at least six different angles. “I miss seeing her walking around with the earphones in, the wire just hanging unplugged.”

“Ohmygod, yes!” Trixie laughed loudly, and lifted her hands in the air. “Because it’s a lot easier to unplug one thing from the computer–”

“Than two from the ears,” both Trixie and Ginger said in unison.

Something immediately changed; as if a switch had been flipped that pushed all the anger and resentment to the side. Violet laughed at them, probably not really following the conversation, but understanding the bond Katya could cause between people.

Ginger pointed at a picture of Courtney Act, placed right in the center. “Have you talked to this asshole?” The tone of her voice still showed a tint of amusement.

Trixie understood the term was more or less one of endearment, not precisely an insult, so she simply nodded her head. “She was the last one to see her, meaning the first person I talked to.”

“What did she say?” Ginger asked.

“They left the party and went for ice-cream,” Trixie offered. “Katya wasn’t feeling well. They made plans to meet the next day for a late lunch. Courtney took her home, left her right at the front gate.”

Ginger’s eyes travelled across the board, trying to find the answer to her next question before she pronounced it. “Did she notice anything unusual?”

“Nope, but it was dark and she wasn’t really paying attention. She just waited until Katya entered the building to leave. That’s why I’m trying to get footage of the street.”

A chubby finger pointed at the blueprint on the far end of the room. “What is that? Is that a map of the building?” Ginger asked.

Trixie explained, in full detail, all the information she had deemed relevant enough to be put up around the room. Ginger listened, like, really listened. She asked questions when needed and added facts if Trixie didn’t have them. It took them almost an hour to go through everything and, by lunch time, they had a whiteboard with a drawn calendar, graphing every single one of Katya’s activities of the last month.

“Wait, what’s on Thursday nights?” Violet asked, pointing at the empty slot at eight p.m. every week on the same day.

Both Trixie and Ginger lifted their heads, noticing the space for the first time. They went through the many pieces of paper they had in hand, Trixie pulled up the spreadsheet they had on her laptop, there was no indication of what Katya did at that time. She didn’t take any classes that late at night, she usually took them in the morning. They checked the many receipts they had found in her car and house one more time. Katya wasn’t precisely a creature of habit but even her grocery shopping was done right after work. There was nothing that could indicate what she did during that hour.

Violet rolled her eyes, huffing softly. “So, I guess I’m gonna be the bitch that says it, but… could she be using again?”

If looks could kill, the thin girl would be dead under the stare of the two women flanking her. “No way,” Ginger was the one to answer. “We literally just talked about it at dinner the other night. She’s clean.”

Trixie laughed, the thought was almost ridiculous. “Plus, it’s not like she’s gonna have, I don’t know, a meth appointment. Those things are, like, if you need it, you need it, right? It’s not like you are gonna be all: nope, can’t get fucked up today, gotta wait until Thursday.” She laughed again at her own words, causing yet another eye roll from her coworker.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Violet said, her hands going up in surrender. “I didn’t mean in that particular time frame but, don’t tell me the possibility didn’t cross your mind.”

“Not even once,” Trixie assured her.

“She had really been set on doing things right for a while now,” Ginger reminded them.

That was when an idea crossed Trixie’s mind. “Okay, but listen, what about a therapist? Could she be seeing someone?”

Ginger nodded effusively. “She could, she could; when you went through her emails, did you find anything about that?”

Violet shook her head, then turned to Trixie, who suddenly had grown quiet.

“Not a therapist,” Trixie said after a few beats of silence, almost to herself. “She had…” The sentence was left there as she moved to a box sitting in a corner of the room, she rummaged through it until she found her prize. She flipped the small coin in the air, catching it and reading the engraving. “She must have a sponsor, maybe they met at the group at that time.” She flipped the round piece of medal again, this time to land in Ginger’s awaiting hands.

“This bitch really is good,” Ginger said to Violet, a cheeky grin pasted on her lips as she pointed at Trixie with her thumb. “So people really do like her, huh?”

“She’s… polarizing,” Violet conceded, her personality wouldn’t allow her to give a direct compliment.

Trixie screamed in laughter. “You bitch! Now, c’mon. We need to find this place.”

It didn’t take them long. The group met in a library just a few blocks down the precinct. Leave it to Katya to have all the important places of her life within walking distance. Ginger and Trixie walked there, and Violet went back to the club, to see if Bob the bartender remembered anything about that night. They were welcomed by a sign that read “Courage to Change” and had the different logos for the groups that held meetings there. Trixie could only recognize the AA and NA insignias among the bunch, but she didn’t give it much importance as she walked the empty hallways.

“Oh, hi!” A girl shouted from behind a desk at the end of the room, several rows of chairs separated her from the detectives. That didn’t stop her from yelling her greetings to them. “Are you twelfths?”

“Excuse me?” Ginger asked, feeling insulted.

The girl laughed loudly, bending forward, and allowing her green hair to completely cover her face. She made a show of throwing it back, both her hands pushing away the curtain of unruly hair. She stood up, her heavy boots hitting hard against the wooden floor. Her jeans were ripped and there was a plaid shirt tied around her waist. She couldn’t be more than eighteen years old.

“I just asked if you were new. Haven’t seen you around here. I would definitely remember you.” She looked at Trixie up and down, making her feel uncomfortable knowing her face was bare of any makeup; and the set of sweats and hoodie, with the LAPD seal printed on it, were not exactly sexy. “Hi, I’m Adore D.” The girl extended her hand and shook Trixie’s first and then Ginger’s.

“I’m Detective Mattel, and this is Detective Minj.”

“Party!” Adore said, her eyes growing wide in excitement.

“We are actually here looking for our friend,” Ginger offered, pulling up a picture of Katya on her phone. “Have you seen this woman?”

Adore bit her lip nervously. “You know, we are anonymous for a reason.” She looked around, as if making sure nobody could hear her. “We are not supposed to, like, know where we live or work, stuff like that. We can’t even tell each other’s full names and shit. But, like, is this complete stranger woman, who I may or may not have seen before, in danger or something?” Her voice fluctuated theatrically, obviously trying to tell them she was purposely keeping information from them.

Trixie nodded her head. “She was attacked last Friday night. She’s unconscious in the hospital right now.”

“Oh, fuck!” The girl seemed genuinely surprised to get that information. “Shit. Okay. Hold on.” She moved her head slightly to the side, which did nothing to redirect the loud scream from the detectives’ ears. “Fame!” She waited a few seconds but there was no response so she did it again. “Fame! The police is here! It’s Katya!”

Right away, a head popped out from behind a door. “Who, what now?”

Adore had her hand covering her mouth, close to tears, she only removed it to speak again. “They say Katya’s been attacked. She’s fucking unconscious, man.”

Long fingers pulled the door opened, and the slim woman invited them into the office. She was beautiful, gorgeous. She pushed her long skirt aside as she sat down behind a desk, motioning them to take the seats across from it.

“Please, take a seat. I’m Fame, I direct this community of centers, and have sponsored Katya for several twenty-four hours now. What can I do to help? ”

Trixie analyzed the woman’s perfectly applied makeup, feeling more and more insecure in her own state; but this wasn’t about her, it was about Katya. She right away redirected her thoughts to the task at hand. “We are trying to trace back her steps, and we have a window of time that we can’t fill out. Do you meet regularly?”

The styled curls bounced as Fame nodded. “I see her every Thursday at eight. We have meetings every night at seven, but she can’t always make it.”

“Do you know if she was going through something major? Any indications that she was in trouble, or was there something that could get her hurt?” Ginger asked.

This time Fame shook her head. “Well, I can’t tell you much. This is not like that doctor-patient confidentiality stuff, a sponsorship goes way deeper than that. What I can say is that she has been living every day as it came, fighting demons as we all are, and taming them the best she could. She knows she is loved, and fuels from it.” There was a soft smile on her face, it was secretive. “She knows she’s not alone, if she had issues she knows who to talk to.”

Trixie met eyes with her, and she knew exactly what she meant. Fame knew who Trixie was, and the role she played in Katya’s life, which seemed to be a lot bigger than Trixie herself had realized. There was a moment of complicity as the women held each other’s stare, having a wordless conversation, until Ginger’s heavy accent broke the trance.

“Girl, the fuck does that mean?”

Fame smile got wider, understanding. Katya’s world was, most likely, finally materializing in front of her eyes. All the characters she only knew from Katya’s tales and experiences were coming to life. “To answer your previous question, no, she wasn’t in trouble, or involved in anything that could have caused her getting hurt.”

Both Trixie and Ginger thanked the director and provided the hospital information so she could go visit Katya. Trixie left her card, encouraging Fame to use it if she remembered anything important, or if any other member mentioned information relevant to the case. Fame once again let them know she had no authority to do that, but promised to stay in touch.

Trixie walked back to the precinct lost in thought, not really listening to everything Ginger had to say about the picturesque personalities they had just encountered. She went on and on about Adore’s hair and Fame’s tattoo of a chicken. All of that was completely irrelevant. She still didn’t know what had happened to Katya, but she wasn’t defeated. A door closing only meant they needed to find a new one, and if that didn’t hold the answer either, then they will continue knocking on door after door after door.

One thing Trixie knew for sure, she wasn’t going to stop until she found whoever hurt Katya.

#rpdr fanfiction #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixya #ginger minj #violet chachki #bianca del rio #adore delano #miss fame #rupaul #lesbian au #laws of motion #dendenmonmon #submission

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multishipperlove · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shaun Gilmore/Vax'ildan, Keyleth/Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia Characters: Velora Vessar, Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, Shaun Gilmore, Keyleth (Critical Role) Additional Tags: Syldor Vessar's A+ Parenting, Family Issues, Polyamory, Polyamorous Character, Hiking, Dog Trinket (Critical Role) Summary:

The twins get to take care of their sister for a weekend, finally able to make good on some birthday promises. Not everything goes as planned, but they still have a great time together.

(Sequel to Dinner and Diatribes, should be able to stand on it's own)

Vax was used to being a light sleeper. It didn't take much to wake him, the quiet creaking of his door and the little bit of morning light poking through, in his otherwise darkened room, was definitely enough to rouse him again. Then he felt his mattress dip down slightly, and groaned as Vex laid a hand on his shoulder to shake him awake.

“I'm up,” he muttered, while also dragging his pillow over his head. “What do you want?”

He heard Vex sigh. “Well, brother. I, uh, was wondering if you'd like to go to the national park with me and Velora today?”

That was enough to at least make him sit up, just to give her a confused look. “What happened to Percy?”

After all the trouble they'd gone through to make sure that the day would go perfectly, he couldn't think of a good reason why Percy would suddenly decide not to come. Unless something had happened, of course, but if it was anything serious he was sure Vex would have said so by now.

And really, they'd spend weeks preparing for this weekend. After Vex and Percy had gifted Velora a coupon to visit the nearby national park with her for her last birthday, they'd still needed to convince their father to let it happen, and make sure everyone actually had some time to spare. In the end they'd even been able to get Syldor to let her spend the night, so they could have dinner with Keyleth and Shaun and maybe even take her shopping the next morning. Or at least to Gilmore's Glorious Goods, which the girl still had a coupon for as well.

All of this was the reason Vax had taken night shifts all week at the diner he worked at, so he could make sure he'd have this evening and the weekend off. And why, in turn, he was respectively tired now.

Vex bit her lip and heaved another sigh. “We got a call this morning, apparently Cassandra got super sick over night.” She saw the look on his face and was quick to reassure her brother. “Nothing life threatening, but she's hardly able to leave the bathroom. So there's no way she can get any official work done today, and Percy had to jump in for her.”

Vax was still not sure he completely understood. “But... Percy isn't even in Whitestone. Wasn't he sleeping over when I got home earlier?”

“He was,” Vex agreed. “He had someone pick him up thirty minutes ago and drive him to the Alabaster Lyceum, which is also where we need to pick up Velora in a bit.”

Vax hadn't missed his sister's use of the word 'we', but he also didn't argue. Even with less than three hours of sleep, he wouldn't miss out on spending a day with his little sister. “Alright, alright... I'll come,” he muttered, finally getting up. He stretched his arms over his head, letting out a huge yawn, and then started to search for fresh clothes. “Fucking rich people and their teleportation circles. Gimme twenty minutes.”

It took a bit longer than the promised twenty minutes, but eventually they both made it out of the door freshly showered and with their hiking gear packed up. And Trinket, of course, running behind them with way too much energy for Vax' taste.

“Keys,” Vex demanded, stopping in front of Vax' mini van. “You're way too tired to drive.”

“And too tired to argue with you,” he agreed, handing them over before getting settled in the passenger seat. His sister took another moment to get Trinket in the back. They'd long given up on laying out towels or blankets in the back, since it had never really helped with keeping the dog hair at bay. At this point they could just hope to never befriend anyone with a severe dog allergy.

Finally, Vex settled down in the driver's seat beside him, turned on the radio, and carefully backed out of the parking spot. Before they'd even left their neighbourhood, Vax was dozing off again.

Thankfully, his sister didn't wake him up again until they were parked right in front of the Travel and Communication Center of the Lyceum. But then he was roughly shaken awake and forced back out of the car. Trinket had to stay behind, with Vex promising him a quick return. That and a few treats made him lay back down without an issue.

On the way in Vax was still rubbing his eyes, so Vex took over the talking again. She could already tell from the look the receptionist was giving them that he knew they weren't the usual clientele. She had their paperwork ready though, and the years in Syngorn and around her father's friends helped her to keep up her smile and ignore the man's behaviour.

“Looks like everything works out,” the clerk eventually agreed, after giving her ID a much closer look than what either of them felt was necessary. Sending a minor through a teleportation circle on their own required some precautions though, even if she was the daughter of a high ranking diplomat. “Follow me, please.”

He got up, and after sharing a brief look and rolling their eyes, the twins followed. They were left in a small waiting room, with the reassurance that their charge would be brought to them as soon as she arrived. Luckily that didn't take long. Soon enough they could hear footsteps approaching, and as the door to their left opened they were faced with a very excited girl clutching on to her treasured owlbear plushie.

“Vax, Vex! You're here!” She immediately tore away from the guard who had apparently been assigned to her, and the man watched on with a smile as the twins got up and all three siblings smushed together for a group hug.

“Oh man, look at you,” Vax chuckled, once they'd all taken a step back again, and as he gave a playful tug on her hair. “I could have sworn you were smaller the last time we saw you.”

Velora grinned and leaned back against her sister instead, prompting Vex to wrap her arms around the small shoulders. “Mom says I'm growing like the weeds in our garden, too, but I haven't actually checked since my birthday.”

Vax was about to reply again, but the guard behind them cleared his throat. “I'll be off then,” he informed them with a smile. “Unless you need my help finding your way out?”

“No, no we'll be fine,” Vex assured the man. “Thank you so much.”

He replied with a brief nod and then left the three of them alone. Not wanting to waste any time, they headed out immediately. “So how was your trip?” Vex asked, just as they left the building. “Did you have to get up very early?”

“No, not really,” she told them, happily walking between her siblings. “But Dad was too busy to drop me off, he had a servant take me instead.”

“A servant? What about Devana, couldn't she have dropped you off instead?” Vax asked with a frown. He wasn't sure which teleportation circle she'd used in Syngorn, but if the location there was anything like the Lyceum it probably hadn't been the nicest experience to be there all by herself.

“She left earlier this morning to run errands, because he'd promised to take me,” Velora replied with a shrug. “She's probably going to be mad at him if he tells her.”

“Well, he deserves it,” Vex muttered. “But let's focus on you being here now, alright? Look, we got someone else who's very happy to meet you.” And with that she took the last few steps to the car and opened the trunk, finally releasing Trinket. The dog quickly jumped out, giving a few yaps of excitement as he circled them a few times, and did his best to wedge himself between them.

Velora grinned and kneeled down, seemingly delighted to let him slobber all over her face. So while those two were busy with greeting each other, Vex took the girl's backpack from her and put it in the back seat with their other gear.

“Alright, ready to go?” she asked finally, helping the girl to her feet again as she agreed. “We got a whole National Park waiting for us after all, so I hope you're ready.”

Velora looked between her two siblings, suddenly turning a bit confused. “Oh, okay. Is Percy waiting for us at the Park then? I thought he was coming with us?”

“Right, about that,” Vex sighed. “There was a bit of an emergency in Whitestone so he got called away, he wants you to know that he's really sorry though and he'll find a way to make it up to you. But hey, with a bit of luck, he'll be back by dinner.”

Velora deflated a bit, her happy mood from earlier not quite evaporating but definitely taking a hit. “Okay... that's fine though,” she said quickly. “He doesn't have to make it up to me, I know his work is super important.”

“But he made a commitment when he said he'd be here today, it's okay to be upset by that,” Vax told her softly. “Doing something else with you is the least he can do, even if it's not his fault that circumstances changed.” When she just shrugged at that and looked down he reached out again, ruffling her hair. “Either way, we'll still have a lot of fun today, I'm sure. Because guess what, I'm Percy's stand in.”

“You'll be coming with us, you're not just here to pick me up?” she asked, her smile growing once more. “That's pretty cool, I'll take that.”

“Hah, you hear that, Stubby? I'm cool.”

Vax did his best not to fall asleep again on their continued drive to the Park, instead engaging with the other two a bit more as they started talking in the car.

Velora told them about school, and how her friends had all been a little bit jealous that she got to leave on a weekend trip so close to their exams. In turn, the twins told her about some of the mischief they had gotten up to when still attending the same school, and that definitely helped with passing the time.

Before they knew it, the broad country roads had turned into narrow passages winding through dark woods. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above them, and it wasn't like Vex needed to turn on the car lights just yet, but the loss of light still gave their surroundings a bit of an eerie feeling. It was nice, in Vax' opinion, and he could see Velora looking out the window with a transfixed expression as well.

They passed the entrance a few minutes later, gladly accepting a map and some tourist information from the lady manning the booth at the moment. As Vex started to look for a parking lot that wouldn't cost them an arm and a leg, Vax took a closer look at the map.

“So, Stubby, did you have a route in mind already?” he asked, studying the various paths that lead through the park and their assigned challenge ratings. If it was just the two of them, they could have easily taken one of the longer routes, meant for more experienced hikers. But with Velora in tow, he was sure Vex had picked out something else.

“Yeah, I found one a while ago that should be really nice,” she replied, proving him right. “It allows dogs, as long as they're leashed, and has some nice observation points along the way.”

“Do you think we'll see any owlbears?” Velora asked immediately, as she leaned forward to wedge herself between the two front seats. Vax playfully pushed her back, grinning slightly when he was met with more resistance than he'd expected.

Vex was the one to actually give her an answer, while she finally found a parking spot she seemed to like. “You know I can't promise you that, but we'll just have to wait and see.”

If he was honest, Vax wasn't sure if he really wanted to run into one of these things. There was a reason most people were afraid of the beasts, and it had a lot to do with claws and sharp edged beaks. Not that there had actually been any owlbear attacks in the recent years, but it still sounded like an encounter he would prefer to avoid.

He kept that thought to himself though, and as they all finally got out of the car he turned to Velora with a cheery look. “Maybe we'll get lucky, who knows. But to see anything, we need to start moving. You got everything you need?”

The girl smiled back at him and nodded, taking her backpack as Vex held it out to her. “I got lots of water and food!”

“Great, I think we can cover the rest,” he chuckled, checking his own bag once more for the additional first aid kit, maps, his powerbank, and a heavy duty flashlight. Vex carried the same gear with her, just in case anything happened to one of their bags. She always had an old satellite phone with her as well though, which they'd never needed, but it was another one of those “just in case” things.

Vex also looked about ready to head into the forest, only waiting for the two of them to finally follow. But a last look up and down his little sister had Vax stop. “You got a jacket with you, right?”

She looked at him and frowned, then looked down at the cardigan she was wearing. “Yeah, this one,” she told him.

Vax resisted the urge to facepalm. “That's not really- you really don't have anything else with you?” he asked again. Syngorn rarely got really cold, not even in winter, but surely someone should have realized that sending her over in nothing but a cardigan would be a stupid idea. Well, apparently not.

“If we're in the shadows all day and sweating, there's no way that thing will keep you warm,” he finally explained, when he realized she still looked rather lost. “We need to get you a proper jacket first.”

He looked over to Vex, who had already started wandering a few feet away, no doubt 'hearing the call of the forest' or whatever she always did when they managed to get on one of these little outings. “Vex!” he called over, at least successfully getting her attention. “We need to hit the shop first. Velora needs a jacket.”

“What do you mean she-” She stopped in the middle of her sentence, and Vax shrugged as an answer. Sure, it sucked, especially because the shops in the park were all horribly overpriced, but they really didn't have much of a choice.

So they accepted the change in plans for what it was, and tried not to be too obviously annoyed about it. After all, it wasn't Velora's fault, and they could both see that she looked a bit uncomfortable now. Vex quickly laid an arm around her, tucking her closer again as they walked.

“Well, let's see it from the positive side, it just means we'll be hitting the souvenir stage early,” she joked, hoping to cheer her up a bit. “Let's have a look around, maybe you find something else you want to watch out for while we're out there.”

The shop was right next to the tourist information, and both buildings were- well, not exactly overrun, but definitely not empty, either. They pushed past a family with two little boys at the entrance, where Vex had to tie trinket down, and dodged some more people inside, just to make it to the clothes section.

There were a lot of t-shits and hoodies, all with big logos of the national park on the front, or simple nature prints. Cute, but not what they were looking for. Vax could already see Velora's eyes flitting from one thing to the next, catching on some things longer than others, and he tried to file all of it away for later. Finally, they found some jackets that actually looked to be functional.

“You wanna try some on?” Vex asked, trying to guess her sister's size as she held out a few. “Is your favorite color still green?”

“Yeah... are you- are you sure though?” Velora asked back. “I know they're expensive. You don't have to.”

“Nonsense, you need a jacket, so we'll get you one,” Vex assured her gently. “The last thing we want is for you to get sick today, or even just be cold all the time. Don't worry about it, okay?”

The girl didn't seem quite convinced yet, but at least she let Vex force her into a few of the jackets, until they found one that fit pretty well. She ended up picking the purple one over the green though, prompting Vax to make a joke about how she would need to raid Gilmore's wardrobe at some point.

They brought it up to the counter, and Vax distracted Velora by making fun of an incredibly tacky snowglobe while Vex paid. She swallowed a bit at the prize, but remembered that the nightshifts Vax had been pulling did not only mean he had the weekend off, but were paid a little bit better as well. Not much, but it made the extra charge more bearable.

Picking up Trinket again on the way out, they finally, finally,started walking towards the path Vex had picked out for them. White signs with blue dots marked the way along the trees, easy enough to follow, and the trail was still wide enough that they could easily ignore the few other people they met along the way.

It didn't take long before Vex started pointing things out to them, from small plants and mushrooms to all the different birds they came across. She even stopped a couple of times so they could get a closer look at something, and within the first two hours, Velora had already stuffed her pockets with all kinds of interesting looking rocks, small feathers, and other muck lying around.

Vax was sure that Syldor would be absolutely horrified if he saw her like that, and that made the whole thing even better. He grew a bit more quiet though, mostly letting the other two talk. His lack of sleep was catching up with him.

Eventually, they reached a small clearing with picnic tables set up, and a small river flowing near by. “Should we take our first break?” Vex asked, looking back to the two others. Receiving a shrug from Velora and a relieved, and maybe just the tiniest bit desperate, nod from her brother, she smiled slightly and claimed one of the tables for them.

Velora started to line up her little treasures on the wooden top, as Vex got out some of the lighter snack foods. She pushed one of the water bottles closer to her brother, who'd sat down and almost immediately rested his head on the table, looking like he was about to fall asleep again any moment.

“Velora, darling, do me a favor and clean your hands in the stream,” she told their little sister, hoping it would wash off the worst of the dirt. For everything else, they had hand sanitizer. While Velora did just that, Vex nudged her brother's shoulder. “Hey, you okay? Do we need to move a bit slower?”

“Hmmmnah. I'm good,” he muttered, giving her a weary smile. He sat up properly at least though, taking a few swigs from the bottle she'd offered him. “It's fun. And you know what, with you playing plant lexicon the whole way, I was thinking, next time we should take Keyleth.”

“So I can watch you two making gooey eyes at each other the whole time? Not a chance.”

“As if you and Percy are any better,” he huffed, amused. “And yes, maybe, but also for another reason. You know how much she knows about all that stuff as well, I'm sure it would be fun.”

Vex shrugged, finally settling down beside him. “Sure, we can ask her next time. I didn't know she was into hiking?”

He grimaced a bit at that. “Actually, not sure if she is. It's always just kinda been our thing, you know? I never asked. But she sure likes plants, so... I don't know, we don't have to.”

“Hey, doofus, slow down,” she chuckled, nudging his side again. “I really don't mind. Let's bring Gilmore and Percy, too, if they want to. We'll just be really disgusting and make it some kind of weird double date.”

She got a soft laugh in return, and Vax nodded. “Sure, that sounds good. I- yeah, I think I'd like that. Let's ask them, some time.”

Velora came back at that point, settling down again with a smile and accepting Vex' hand sanitizer without any protest. She was the first one done with her food as well, and then seemed to be patiently waiting for the twins to finish up. Vex turned to her eventually, giving her a bit of an amused look. “You don't have to sit here and wait, you know. Look around a bit, see if you can find more interesting stuff.”

“Are you sure?” Velora asked, frowning again. “Shouldn't I stay close to you or something?”

“As long as you stay where we can see you, it's fine,” Vax assured her with a shrug, while cutting his apple into continuously smaller pieces. He wasn't too motivated to eat. “Just, you know, don't do anything stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Like falling into the stream, for example. Or climbing trees. I'm pretty sure that's not allowed here,” Vex chimed in again, stealing one of the fruit pieces from her brother.

Velora still seemed surprised that they let her roam around on her own at all, and apparently feared that they would change their mind again. She was out of her seat faster than they could blink.

When she was already halfway back to the little river she turned around again, calling back to her siblings again. “Can I take Trinket?”

“He's not allowed to leave the path, sorry!” Vex called back, and watched as her sister nodded and then went back to the spot where she'd washed her hands earlier. Whatever it was she'd found, it seemed to be interesting enough to keep her attention for a while, and they were both able to finish their own rations without boring the girl too much.

Once back on the path, she told them about the fish she'd seen, and proceeded to describe them in as much detail as possible, asking Vex once more to identify each and everyone of them. In the few cases where Vex was stumped, Vax made up new ones, with increasingly absurd names and abilities.

He was in the middle of telling his sisters about the 'Red Striped Bloodsucker Fish' (ignoring Velora's question if fish even had blood), when Vex grinned and shook her head at him. “Vampirism, huh? I know a plant that helps against that.”

“A plant? No way, vampires aren't even real,” Velora protested, changing her focus from one twin to the other again.

“Oh they used to be, it's just that no one's seen one in a few decades,” Vex insisted. “That doesn't mean they don't exist anymore.” Seeing that the girl still looked unimpressed, she shrugged. “Alright, to be fair, glissfoil also has a lot of other uses. It can cure infections, helps against minor illnesses, and you can make very tasty tea out of it.”

“Which also happens to help against hangovers,” Vax mumbled, chuckling softly when Vex, expectedly, slugged him in the shoulder for his comment.

“She doesn't need to know that part yet. But yes, it's all in all just very neat. Would you like to look for some?” The last part was directed at Velora again, and she agreed easily enough. Vex described the plant, small, green leaves with a yellow-ish tint towards the edge, and they all started to keep an eye out for it.

They were walking uphill now, the path becoming more steep ahead of them and forcing them to slow down quite a bit, but they still made good headway. Still no glissfoil though. That didn't keep Velora from picking up more of her other miscellaneous items though, and when she finally ran out of space in her own pockets, the twins quickly offered to take some for her instead. The new jacket as well as her jeans were both streaked with dirt by now, not that she seemed to mind.

Halfway up the hill they took another break, Vex promising them that it wouldn't be much further now. And indeed, a good forty-five minutes later, they made it to the top. It really wasn't much more than a hill, but still offered a nice overview of the valley that now stretched out in front of them. Again, there was a bit of a clearing, and benches and tables cluttered around the centre of it.

But before Vax could suggest they settle down to enjoy the view a bit, Vex had already taken Velora by the hand and dragged her off to the edge, apparently very intent to show her something. So he sighed and followed suit, taking another sip from his water bottle.

“Alright, do you see the caves down there?” Vex asked, pointing them out for Velora as best as she could. “Right there, in the small dip between the cliffsides?”

Velora searched for it for a moment, but then nodded. “Yeah, yeah I see it. Why, what's in there? Can we go there?”

“No no no, that's definitely off the paths,” she replied quickly. “And even if it was allowed, it would probably be a bad idea. You know what kind of animal supposedly lives in those caves?”

The girl shook her head this time, but the look she gave Vex was very hopeful, so she seemed to have a pretty good idea at least.

Vex grinned. “Owlbears. Right there. It's just a few animals, who apparently broke away from the main herd a while ago for some reason, but ever since they've been sighted here, the path's become a lot more popular.”

As Vex had been talking, Velora's smile had already grown impossible wide. She stepped as close to the edge as she could now, staring at the entrance of the cave intensely. “Can we stay for a bit?” she asked quietly, as if already afraid to spook the animals away.

“Half an hour or so, sure,” Vex agreed. To Vax' surprise, she took a blanket out of her backpack. Which wasn't part of their usual luggage, which meant she'd been planning this, and why was he even surprised about this. But she put it down on the ground, leaving enough space for the three of them to settle down right there.

While they were waiting for something to happen, Vax got his knife out again from earlier, and started to twirl it around his fingers in an attempt to stay alert. Velora noticed it, of course, and watched him for a few moments with great curiosity.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” she asked finally. “You promised you'd teach me how to use the dagger, remember? The one you got me for my birthday.”

“Of course I remember,” he chuckled. “And yeah, I guess I can teach you how to do this, too... not with a knife though.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don't want to be responsible for any lost fingers, honestly. We'll start with a pen and you get to work your way up from there.” She still grumbled about that answer, but seemed satisfied enough by it. For now.

They spend a few more minutes looking out over the caves, but with no luck. Not a single owlbear reared it's head, and sitting on the ground was slowly getting cold. Velora was leaning against Vax by now, all but in his lap, and the journey seemed to be catching up with her as well. She looked a lot more tired by now then when they'd started their trip.

Before either of her siblings could fall asleep on her, Vex pushed them to move again. “Alright, I think that's enough time spend here,” she sighed, getting up and offering Velora a hand to pull her up. “Sorry we didn't see anything, darling.”

“It's fine, it was still really cool to see where they live,” Velora assured her, smiling again as she got to her feet and leaned over the edge just one more time. “Maybe we can come back one day, and have more luck then.”

“Yeah, why not. That sounds like a good idea,” Vax agreed, stifling a yawn. “Hey Stubby, how long until we're back at the car? Do we walk back the way we came?”

Vex shook her head and took a moment to study the map they'd taken with them. “It's a circular path, and the way back is way shorter. Shouldn't take more than an hour. You two ready to leave?”

She got two nods, so turned back around to lead the way again. Their little group was a lot more quiet on their way back though, a weary silence hanging over them, but at least it didn't diminish their fun in any way. Velora still looked around with an attentive eye, pointing out birds and other small critters when she saw them.

A good twenty minutes passed before she caught something a lot more interesting though. Right next to the path was a beaten track that had clearly been caused by some kind of animal, something big. The surrounding bushes and branches were damaged, showing that something had moved through them with little care.

Velora was the first there to investigate, and probably would have disappeared right into the forest had Vex not held her back. “What do you think did this? Do you think it's still here? Can it see us, do you think it's dangerous?” All her question came in quick succession, leaving Vex little time to answer.

Gently pushing her sister back towards Vax she ventured a few steps forward herself, trying to see if there actually was any danger to them. But it seemed like whatever had crossed the path here, it had done so a while ago.

“No, it's probably long gone,” she called back to the other two, turning around again to make her way back. Which was when she noticed them, lying on the ground just a few feet away from the path. A big, brown-ish feather, with black stripes all the way down, along with some smaller ones. Most of them were damaged in some way, but somehow, the big feather had remained unscathed. And she knew exactly what animal it came from.

Carefully picking it off the ground and holding it behind her back, she finally walked back to Vax and Velora. “Guess what I found,” she told her sister, grinning in the knowing way that only older siblings could pull off sometimes.

“What?”

“No, you have to guess,” she insisted, only seeming more amused when Velora rolled her eyes.

But the girl took the challenge, squinting slightly as if she was trying to see right through her sister. “Hmm... oh, you finally found Glissfoil!” She grinned widely, absolutely sure of herself and that she'd bested her sister in this somehow.

But Vex just shook her head. “Nu-uh. That would have been cool, too, I'll grant you that. But I found something way better.” Not wanting to torture her any longer though, she presented the feather, giving her a pointed look. “You know what this is from?”

It immediately got her an excited gasp, and with a gentle nudge from Vax Velora reached out, taking it into her own hands. “Wooow, this is so cool,” she whispered. “Do you think it's from one of the owlbears living in the caves?”

Vex nodded, briefly looking back to the spot where she'd found the feather. “We're not too far away, it's plausible. I hope that makes up a bit for not seeing one live.”

Velora nodded eagerly, still studying the feather closely. Then she looked from her new favorite possession to Vax, and seemed to get an idea. “Can you put it in my hair?” she asked, holding the feather out to her brother this time. “You know, like you sometimes do for Vex?”

“Oh... yeah, sure. C'mere,” he told her, pulling her a bit closer and turning her around, facing her away from him. “Stubby, you got a hairband?”

Vex didn't, but had no issue with taking out the one she was currently wearing, and Vax made quick work of the task in front of him. He produced the same trademark side-braid that was usually reserved for Vex, sure that she wouldn't mind, and then secured the feather behind one ear. It was a bit big, but all in all still looked very nice.

Velora was definitely happy, still brimming with excitement all the way back to the car. And despite the fact that she swore up and down that she didn't need anything else, the twins insisted on hitting the gift shop again before actually leaving. Velora ended up choosing a mug with, to no one's surprise, more owlbears printed on the front, and spend a few additional minutes fawning over a very nice selection of pocket knifes with Vax.

But before they knew it they were all back in the car, all the new souvenirs packed away in Velora's bag, and on their way home. It didn't take long either for a very slight snoring to start up in the car, both from the backseat and the shotgun position. They weren't even officially out of the park. But Vex didn't mind much, not even when Trinket joined her sleeping siblings halfway through. At least that way, no one could complain about her choice in music.

#critical role #cr1 #vox machina #vax'ildan #vex'halia #velora vessar #cr fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #mine #I didn't expect this to get so long #and it's not even done #long post

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sanguinecalamity-a · 4 years

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fck discord and its 2000 characters limit, if I have to send a chap in like 23 pieces again I’m gonna sob- Just posting it here real quick so I can just throw the link at a few people who want to read it.

I should just make a temp sideblog or something so no one has to be subjected to my unedited, unproofread, generic love triange-- :’D

At least I’m nice enough to put it under a read more, go away

CHAPTER 01

"I love you. Be mine." Sound seems to fade as the taller man’s mauve gaze meets Kiara’s own. Seconds pass, her heart skips a beat. The man's larger hand is holding her own to his chest as if she's a lost princess who has just been found. "What...?" "I have loved you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you." the beautiful man's low baritone promises a myriad of things Kiara can't quite understand. He towers over her by a solid eight inches, his short black hair a hot mess of thick waves which fall in a layered style, framing his well defined face perfectly. Mouth dry, Kiara can only stare up at the man for a few seconds, before finally uttering out a, "Who... are you...?" The naturally narrowed gaze seems to pierce through her own before his brows droop, expression forlorn. The expression lingers a mere seconds before a saddened smile curves his lips. "Of course you don't recognize me." he murmurs, voice dropping. "Uhm, what?" Kiara awkwardly tries to tug her hand back, only for the man's grip to tighten. Pulling her closer, the man's smile turns utterly charming, making the young woman wonder if the previous expression was a mere figment of her imagination. "My name is Dante... it's a pleasure to meet you, Kiara Cross." raising her hand to his pale face, his thin lips graze against her knuckles, before he finally releases the appendage. Turning on his heel, he abruptly walks off, a final smile cast upon the confused woman from over his shoulder. He's gone before she can even ask him how he knows her name.

"Kiara, are you okay?" Kiara blinks slowly to snap herself out of her stupor. The sounds of the college classroom register in the back of her mind and she shakes her head, before turning her attention back on the male seated next to her. Luca White's baby blue eyes have widened slightly in concern, his shoulder length dark blonde hair pulled back in a partial ponytail as has become usual for him. "Yeah, I'm fine," Kiara gives an apologetic smile, trying to push the events from last weekend out of her mind. "Just thinking, that's all." "You've been out of it all week," Luca's eyebrows raise a bit "Did something happen?" "Nothing's out of the ordinary, don't worry." Kiara is quick to assure. If she's being honest, she should tell her childhood friend about the odd encounter she'd had at the mall the other week, especially since the stranger seemed to know her name. But for some reason she can't bring herself to do it. The more she thinks about him, the more Kiara can't help but think that the man, Dante, was oddly familiar in a way... but she's certain she'd never met him before. She'd never forget a man like that, especially not with those eyes. Not only was the purplish shade strange, but there was something about them, something that pulled her in... she hasn't been able to get the encounter out of her mind all week. Averting his gaze, Luca licks his lips briefly, before turning his attention back to the other. "Was it one of your dreams again?" "No, no," Kiara shakes her head quickly "It's nothing like that, don't worry." she'd rather not think back to the vivid dreams she's grown up with. Fortunately they became rare as she grew up. "Really?" Luca gives a small, relieved smile, ruffling his messy fringe with his hand a bit. "That's great, really..." "Yeah, so don't worry about that, okay? I'm just thinking about later. You know, Matt..." she trails off, and just like that the smile leaves Luca's lips. "What did he do this time?" With a sigh, Kiara props her chin up on her hand. "He got into another fight. Seriously, just because mom and dad aren't around, he thinks he can do whatever he wants..." she sighs. "When are they going to come back?" "No idea. End of the month, maybe? Next month? Who is to say?" Luca nods once before resting his cheek against his hand to level his gaze with Kiara's. "Want me to go talk to him? I can smack some sense into him, if need be." "Don't worry about it," dropping her voice to a whisper as the Professor starts his lecture, Kiara gives Luca a weary smile. "I can handle it." They both know it's a lie. "Good afternoon, everyone. Please open your books to page-" The class passes in much of a blur for Kiara; nothing the professor says really seems to stick, her notes are filled with random doodles she wouldn't be able to explain as anything other than 'art is in the eye of the beholder'. She can still hear Dante's low, sultry voice now, the memory bringing a pleasant shiver down her spine. In the end it's the final bell which jars her out of her daze, forcing her to stop her artistic rendition of what might be a burning hill if the scribbles count for something, and to make a quick note on what the assignment for this week is. Avoiding the piercing gaze she can just _feel_ coming from next to her, Kiara messily shoves her books and pencil case into her bag before getting up. "Well that was interesting." she tells the blonde. "Learned a lot. You?" "Yeah... sure." Luca responds slowly before also rising from his seat. He opens his mouth to ask something, then seems to think otherwise and changes his words: "Let's meet up tonight to get a head start on the assignment, okay?" "Uh-huh, sounds great." Halfway to the parking lot, Kiara stops in her tracks and looks around. That's odd... is she getting stared at? "Kiara?" Luca stops as well and looks back at me with a furrowed brow. The feeling of being watched disappears as soon as it had appeared and Kiara shakes her head. "No, just thought I forgot something, sorry about that." "Uh... huh. You know you look a little cross-eyed when you lie, right?" Eyes widening, Kiara splutters indignantly before swatting Luca's arm. "I do not!" Luca stops at his car with a laugh. "I'll drop by after dinner. Don't forget." "I won't, I won't." Kiara huffs softly while unlocking the car next to Luca's, pretending like she doesn't feel his concerned gaze boring holes into her head. "I see you tonight, okay?" "Yeah, okay." Luca agrees. Kiara gives him a faint smile, then gets into her car and closes the door. "Now for the next item on the list..." she stares ahead for a few seconds, unseeing, before buckling up with a sigh. Turning on the engine, she pulls out of the parking lot, before heading off to Matt's school.

Preston Academy is a private school for the intellectual and prestigious children. It's the educational grounds to those whose parents can afford them, or a lucky few who are able to grab hold of one of the three scholarships extended each year and are able to maintain those. Kiara pulls up in front of the gates surrounding the large, white building and soon walks past the familiar fountain of her ex-school. An ID check is required to enter the building, then it's through the large, arched doors and up to the first floor. The halls have quieted down. The school has been out for half an hour by now. She finds Matthew sitting outside the principal's office. He's holding an ice pack to his face. "Matt," Kiara approaches and tries to ignore how Matthew's scowl deepens. "I got a call again." she continues, trying to sound firm. "Good on you." Matthew mutters, glare fixed on the desk. "Your cheek too, let me take a look at it-" "Don't need you to." Taking a deep breath, Kiara clears her throat, leaning down a bit to be eye level. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" she isn't surprised when she doesn't get a reply, but that doesn't stop the disappointment sigh. "Matt, I can't help you if you don't-" "You can't help me anyway." He kicks the desk with a heavy scowl. "You're not mom. So stop acting like you are." Kiara purses her lips together. She reckons she should be used to hearing the same remark over and over, but it never fails to smart. "No. I'm not," she agrees "But I'm here right now, and I'm the best you got." "Joy." Kiara narrows her eyes a bit, "Matt..." "Miss Cross? Please enter." Kiara looks up when the cold, clipped tone cuts off what she was about to say. The door to the principal's office has opened, revealing the tall and thin woman who is dressed in a navy skirt suit with black stockings. The thin, pursed lips do nothing to hide the stern wrinkles around the aging mouth, graying hair pulled into a tight enough bun that many would like to attribute her ever sour mood to a headache and Kiara is certain the creases around the woman's steely gray eyes have nothing to do with smiling. She stares down at the siblings through half moon glasses. Kiara can only hope she didn't hear just how little control she has over her brother. "Mrs. Hawkings." she greets, straightening up as if she's the one in trouble. She gives Matthew a final, stern glance as the principal steps aside enough for her to enter. Once she does, the door closing behind her feels more like a death sentence, if anything. "Sit down, please." Kiara sits down on the chair she's found herself far too many times ever since Matthew started attending the school. However, rather than on the woman sitting at the other side of the large oak desk, Kiara's eyes are drawn to the lace tablecloth covering it. Plum in color; it reminds her of Dante's eyes. When no word comes from Kiara, Mrs. Hawkings clears her throat, drawing the young woman's attention. "So," she starts, beady eyes narrowed. "Here we are. _Again_." purposefully placing the emphasis on again, her thin hands lace together on the desk. "Yes..." "That would make this the fourth time this semester, would it not?" Kiara bites the inside of her cheek. She was here the other meetings as well, she _knows_ how many of them there were. "May I ask what happened this time, Mrs. Hawkings?" Turning up her nose at Kiara, Mrs. Hawkings straightens up even further. "Apparently young Matthew thought it fit to punch a fellow student in an attempt to grab his wallet." Kiara's eyes widen in response. "Come again?" She can't believe what she's hearing! Did he really sink that low? The accusing stare the older woman casts her doesn't make her feel any better about the situation, as if _she's_ to blame for whatever happened. "He had... requested Jamie Williams’ wallet, Miss Cross. In front of various witnesses, after bruising Mr. Williams’ rib with his fist. The only reason we haven’t contacted the police is because the testimonies are questionable in nature, being that they were solely from Mr. Williams’ friends." "So there's still a chance that it didn't happen, right?" Kiara asks quickly. "Be that as that may, an entire group of students has witnessed Matthew suddenly attacking Mr Williams. Based on that fact alone, I am forced to suspend your brother for a month." "But he'll be a month behind on everything! And you're not even sure about exactly what happened-" She is cut off by the way the principal's eyes narrow disapprovingly. "If one more incident occurs, miss Cross. He will be missing far more than just a month. Honestly, raising a 15-years old boy is no task for a _child_. If your parents would be even the _slightest_ bit more responsible-" Kiara drops her gaze back to the tablecloth, zoning out as the rant on her parents continues. Why is _she_ the one getting lectured now? It's not as if she asked for this sort of situation. It's unfair. "I'm sorry, but will this be all?" Kiara has no doubt that, had she looked up just then, she would have been met with a highly indignant look at her interruption. But that's the least of her concerns right now. "I suppose we are done," she concedes in clipped tones "For now." Finally tearing her gaze away from the tablecloth, Kiara stands up and extends her hand for the elder woman politely. The long, slightly dry fingers wrap around her own just a tad too firmly and Kiara just _knows_ it's on purpose. "Call your parents. And tell them to come home and raise your brother. The way they _should_." "That is a highly inappropriate thing to say, Mrs. Hawkings." Kiara responds through gritted teeth. "The truth is often inappropriate, miss Cross." Turning on her heel, Kiara strides out of the office, firmly closing the door behind her. Matthew quickly leans away from the thin wall he'd be leaning against in an effort to overhear what was going on, but she doesn't comment on that. Instead, she keeps walking, not glancing back as she tosses him a swift, "We're leaving." Matthew sluggishly rises from his seat, icepack in one hand, his book bag in the other, before he follows at a leisurely pace despite the ever growing distance between the two. By the time he opens the door to the passenger seat, Kiara is already buckled up, the engine running. "She said you attacked someone to get his wallet, is this true?" Kiara asks, not taking her gaze off of the window as she hears Matthew close the door behind him. "Doesn't matter what I'll say, does it?" Matthew scowls, slumping on his seat "Not like anyone's gonna believe me anyway." "Seat belt." Kiara mutters, only pulling out of the parking space after Matthew is strapped in properly. "And it _does_ matter. If you say you didn't do it, then I'll believe you." "Yeah? Well, I say that’s not what happened." "What _did_ happen then?" Kiara asks, only to be met with silence. "Matt." she urges, briefly glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, but her brother's gaze remains solidly on the window. _"Matthew."_ "God, you're so annoying, just shut up already!" Matthew scowls, kicking the dashboard. Clenching her jaw, Kiara's fingers clutch the steering wheel until her knuckles turn white. "Matthew Davidson Cross, that is _no_ way to talk to me." "Yeah? Well _bite me_." Tears sting her eyes, and Kiara would like to think it's the soreness of her clenched teeth causing them, rather than the behavior of her brother. She can taste some blood. The silence lingers heavily in her car, the hairs on her arms standing upright from the sudden chill she's feeling. No matter what she tries, no matter what she says, will it ever be good enough? Will she ever be able to make this work out properly? A poster catches her eye when they're forced to wait before a traffic light. "Look, it's a poster of mom." she motions towards a movie of a hyped up, up and coming movie that is due to be released in two to three months. The familiar visage of their mother is plastered on the large poster board: the main character once again. Lucina Cross, known to the public as the famed Lucy Lawson. Still, not even the mention of their mother is enough to draw Matthew's attention, and Kiara gives up on further conversation. By the time they reach their home, a large Victorian themed building made up of three floors, an attic and a basement, and large arched windows spread across the high walls, Matt leaves the car before Kiara even has time to turn off the engine. "Matt, come back!" Kiara calls out, opening her door. "We're not done talking yet!" But the only response she receives is the front door slamming shut behind Matthew as he hurries inside without a glance back. "Damnit..." Kiara drops her head on the steering wheel with a groan. "How am I supposed to deal with this...?"

_"Kiara..."_

"Huh...?" Opening her eyes again, Kiara finds herself standing in a grand, dimly lit bedroom. The antique Victorian furniture looks like it’s made of gold rather than wood, and all the fabric is in varying shades of black silk and red velvet. The subtle scent of sandalwood incense penetrates her nose. Her heart pounces in her chest, gaze flitting around the room. The way the candles flicker gently in the distance make her think of a dream I might have had once or twice in the past, even if she doesn’t remember ever seeing a scene like this before. "This is... a dream...?" she breathes out, voice barely audible as she turns around. "Do you wish for it to be?" Kiara turns around at the sound of the smooth voice, shivers running down her neck at the familiar baritone. It's only when the skirt whips past her legs that she realizes that she is wearing a long velvety dress. The dark red color appears black in the dim light, the slit on one side going higher than she is comfortable with. However, any thoughts on the attire are wiped away when her gaze falls on the other occupant of the room. Dante is leaning against one of the poles of the grand four poster bed, red silken fabric draped across the mattress beautifully, littered with red and black rose petals. His fierce mauve eyes gaze seems to glow in the dim light, peering out from under his messy black hair. His black button up shirt is unbuttoned and untucked from his black jeans, while his black leather shoes reflect the light of the candles ever so slightly. Kiara's breath catches in her throat. "It _must_ be a dream..." Her heart skips a beat when Dante's lips twitch into a subtle smirk. "Then, we must be in your head right now..." his low voice sends another shiver down her spine as Dante pushes himself off of the bedpost. "_I_ must be in your head right now...?" he purrs, extending a hand for her to take. Kiara takes it without hesitation and in one smooth move she is pulled against his cheek. His other hand comes to rest on her lower back while his heated gaze doesn't leave her for even a second. Surely, it must be a dream, because Kiara is certain that it's impossible for a person's heart to race this fast without combustion. "So... Am I...?" "Yeah..." Kiara breathes out, barely taking notice of anything but his alluring eyes. He'd be able to ask her to admit to any crime in the world right now and she wouldn't think twice about agreeing. "Good..." he murmurs, his smirk growing as he leans down, lips next to her ear. "Because you are the one in my head, too. _Always_." A shudder of excitement runs down Kiara's spine when Dante's large hands gently ease her back onto the bed, his broad frame towering over her. "Let’s have you think of me even more, shall we?" He murmurs, slowly dragging his fingers up her leg via the skirt's slit as he leans closer, his breath landing on her lips gently. Kiara's back arches and her eyes flutter closed to accept the kiss- _"Tsk."_ "... Huh?" Did he just click his tongue?

When Kiara opens her eyes she is once again in the car, Luca worriedly shaking her. "Kiara, are you alright?" "Hm...?" She blinks a few times to get rid of the daze, slowly realizing where she is, and with who she is. "Thank Heavens..." Luca gives her a crooked smile, breathing out a relieved sigh. "I thought something was wrong. Looks like you just fell asleep." "Oh, uh..." Kiara stares at him for a moment before nodding. Of course it was a dream. What else could it be? It's impossible for it to have been real, no matter how real it all felt. But, to dream something like _that_... A flush works its way up her cheeks, only deepening when Luca's eyebrow raises. "You, uh... You're early." she stutters out quickly. "I saw you sitting in your car from my room, and since you weren't moving... Are you _really_ okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine, I just- I don't know, I didn't sleep well, so..." Kiara mutters, rubbing her eyes. Had she really been so tired to fall asleep in her _car_ of all things? How odd. "Hm..." Luca furrows his brow a bit, then shakes his head. "Come on, I'll help you get inside, okay? You can take a proper nap there. Or you can talk to be about how things went with Mrs. Hawkface. Mom'll call me when dinner's done." Kiara's lips twitch slightly at the juvenile name that was used back when they attended to school themselves. "Thanks... I could really use someone to talk to, about that." "That bad, huh?" "Yeah, and _then_ some." Finally leaving the car, Kiara tries not to push the dream from her mind. Why did she dream about a man she's only met once? Why did she dream something like _that_...? Luca's voice is a welcome distraction as she follows the blonde inside her house. It was just a dream. No point in giving it much more thought. What else could it be, right?

_Just a dream..._

#god has spoken 「 ooc 」

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sugar-booger · 6 years

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One More Adventure Ch.2

An Endless Summer fanfiction ( Jake x MC)

Hey guys! I didn't expect such a good batch of reviews for the first chapter in fanfiction.net! Thank you so much! I do hope you'll like my take on this post-ending fanfiction. Shoutout to the wonderful person who put my fic as a recommended read on Reddit. Sending so much love to you, and everyone who's reading.

Anyhow, enjoy! Critiques and reviews are always welcome. I would love to know what I can improve on!

"I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me… you're gonna be the one that saves me, you're gonna be the one that saves me…"

Jake strums the last of the chords until the echoes fade, and he sighs. He sets aside his guitar on the floor, himself sprawled across the messy comfort of his bed. He closes his eyes. Another night goes by. Los Angeles was a little too noisy for his taste, but it is what it is. Rebecca's here, LAX pays well and gives him the flexibility to choose his routes and schedules, and it was busy and loud enough sometimes to keep him distracted. Good number of bars too, a number of places to get the kind of whiskey he liked.

But their reunion at La Huerta was now a turning point; no whiskey or noise could erase such thoughts in his mind— it was Taylor. Taylor. Taylor all over again, for five months.

Behind closed eyes, Jake tries to remember every detail about her—her blue eyes, her goddamn smile, the curve of her lips and how soft they were every time he kissed them, her voice, her hands, her waist, her body, the way she talked, the way she handled things—everything, he tries to keep all the small things that make her in his mind, memorizing them.

He wouldn't forget her. He doesn't want to.

Vibrating beneath tangled sheets, his phone rings. He opens his eyes lazily, greeted by the slightly grimy ceiling with a lone, dim light bulb. Large windows at the west side of his room filled mostly the illumination, casting faint colorful lights from the city streets and buildings outside.

He yanks the phone from under the blanket, near his leg. Eyes widened at the caller ID.

"Malfoy?"

"I know it's late there already. Sorry to interrupt your sleep," Aleister answers from the other line.

Jake sits up, pulling down his scrunched shirt. He could hear the indistinct traffic from Aleister's end. "Nah, it's fine. Wasn't sleepin' yet… You got something for me?"

It takes a few seconds of noise and screeches, and then Grace's voice takes over. Jake swears he heard swerving and some honks. "Jake, sorry… Aleister's driving. We just came back from London, and, er, we may need to regroup as soon as possible. How long do you think you could fly to Craig and Zahra's apartment in Hartfeld?"

"What?" Jake blinks. "LA to Massachusetts?"

"Yes. It's the safest place that we could discuss things. We… The PI finally located the Prism Gate and is ready to hand us some encrypted data we're giving to Zahra. It's still in Northbridge, and we've been given directions to its site but Silas Prescott completely rebuilt and fortified his security, so we may need to— Hello?"

The phone was on loud speaker, perched atop his cabinet. A notification pops up—a reply from a fellow pilot to Jake's message a few seconds ago if he would be able to pull some strings and get Jake to hop on the next flight to Boston.

"Five hours."

"What?" Grace asks.

Jake pulls out a duffel bag beneath his bed, quickly stuffing it with some clothes and his wallet. He starts getting dressed. "I'll get on a plane right now. Be there in five hours. Everyone's comin'?"

"I still need to call up Quinn, Michelle and Sean, but the rest are headed there. We'll be there in an hour."

"Countin' on it. Thanks. See ya." The pilot hangs up, his eyes lingering on the screen of his wallpaper, before nodding to himself and getting a move on. This was a risk that he'd take if it meant a chance to get to see her again.

He darts out behind the apartment they lived in, towards a figure hidden under a black cloth. Beneath the oil-tainted fabric was a sleek, custom-built street motorcycle with a lustrous combo of green and black. Jake unchains it and slips on the helmet, securing his duffel bag behind, and speeds off into the blaring scenario that is the busy, gaudy night life of LA.

The pilot slips neatly into the traffic, through narrow spaces between cars and limousines that pollute the hectic roads. People in their glitzy and swanky clothes line up in front of the biggest clubs and bars, the lot of them arguing with bouncers. He shakes his head.

The colors and lights blur into the hazy background of buildings and establishments, and Jake skids to a stop at a red traffic light. 90 seconds. For the period he waited, there were flashing colors of red, blue and white from a shop, and Jake is reminded of Taylor again. Up at the control tower, the day they landed on La Huerta. It was the moment he really looked at her up-close—this woman he learned to appreciate, admire, and love over the next few weeks.

Taylor was a tough, resilient woman who balanced wit, compassion and fairness. Beauty and humor was just a bonus. She was someone who exhibited courage and bravery, putting on the armor for others when trouble was coming.

In the recording, she told him that it's because of him she had the strength and confidence to make that final decision. But Jake knew otherwise. He knew Taylor would be ready to give up everything for the good of everyone.

But that was what made things more painful. In exchange for the world's fate, for everyone's future, Taylor had to not be a part of it anymore. She never did belong to this world, but she fit perfectly in their lives. In his life, his heart. But he wanted to believe she made the right decision.

What would life be if they had chosen to stay in La Huerta together? If they had gone with Rourke's offer, would he be able to find her and fall in love again, in a world where they would never have met?

12 seconds. Jake clutches the throttle of his bike. He then sees Rebecca out patrolling, coming out from the corner of the street. Jake winks at her and does a finger gun gesture.

"Where—"

But he never gets to hear whatever she was about to say; he hustles further into the road to the airport as the light switched to green. In a matter of minutes, he reached his destination and boarded the plane smoothly, although he may have bribed some security personnel and fellow workmates for it.

In four and a half hours, Jake rouses awake as the plane descends into a calmer landscape. He quickly hops in a taxi that breezes by the quieter streets of Boston in the early morning, brown trees with crisp orange and yellow leaves peppered along the road and a serene view of the seaside just beyond. Right now, his body is screaming for coffee.

He checks his phone, the screen lined up with Rebecca's messages. Jake chuckles.

'Sorry, I'll be gone for a few days. Kinda needed to fly. Take care.'

The golden rays of the sun paint the pale sky as he goes further, and the scene melts into an array of smaller establishments and commercial spaces as they enter the town of Hartfeld. Hartfeld University covers almost the entirety of his journey. They stop in front of a sleek apartment complex, an intimidating building with six storeys and a polished black, white and grey façade.

He smoothens his sandy blonde hair and makes his way to Zahra and Craig's apartment, up on the fourth floor. He waits. A series of clicks could be heard from the other side.

"Yo, 'bout time." Craig greets him upon opening the door. He clears his throat. "Er, I mean, welcome to the… party! So nice of you to join us Jake, and we're totally just doing some happy reunion, yeah?"

Jake raises his brow at this attempt of concealing their meeting. Craig grins nervously, darting eyes looking for anyone behind Jake, or maybe some bugged device, a tracker, anything—and then Aleister calls from inside the room.

"Just please get him inside."

Craig ushers the pilot in and shuts the door, securing it with a number of locks. Jake meets seven other faces gathered around the living room area—Raj, Grace, Aleister, Diego, Varyyn, Sean, and Quinn. On the center table was a tray of freshly brewed coffee, and Raj offers him a cup. "Creamer and sugar are just here in case."

Jake graciously takes the black coffee. "Sweet Jesus, this is all I need. Thanks."

Grace leans forward. "Now that we're here, we will just wait for Estela to arrive. Zahra's in her office, and she'll call for us when she's laid out what we have. She's um, she said better not to disturb her."

He keeps his bag away and sits down beside Diego, sipping from the mug. "Is Sarah Connor fighting off Terminator?"

"She'll be arriving anytime soon." Aleister replies, putting away his phone after a seemingly stressed reading from his e-mails. "Her flight from San Trobida takes about three hours. It's the fastest I could get for my… er, her."

A slightly uncomfortable silence hangs in the air, until—

"So, like… She's your sister, right?" Craig asks.

"I… suppose so," the blond answers, his head low. "Besides Reginald and my father, she's the only relative I have. I'd want to have a good relationship with my own... sister. It's been five years, but we've… not quite bonded as siblings should."

"I'm sure it'll be okay," Grace assures him with a warm smile. "Estela would naturally choose to stay in San Trobida instead of here in the US, so you really don't get much time together. Maybe we can go out someday soon as a family?"

Aleister's pale cheeks flush a faint pink, but a grateful smile replaces his frown. "Yes, that's… That would be lovely."

Jake scans the gang again. "Doc Maybelline?"

Sean sighs, leaning against the recliner. Raj offers him a bowl of nachos garnished with bacon and cheese, to which the football star declines politely. "She hasn't exactly left the hospital since yesterday. Northbridge citizens have been in and out lately with the superheroes versus super villains casualties."

"She said she'll try to come as soon as she can after her shift." Quinn says with a smile. On her lap was Furball, munching on a nacho and leaving crumbs on the redhead's shorts. "It's been really hectic for her."

"Yeah man, Northbridge is always on the news! That Talos guy sure is a cool hero," Craig says with a grin. "Then there's Minuet and Diamante, and they're really kickin' some ass lately too!"

"These heroes you mention, they are the ones with bronze for a body, a masked woman in gray, and another woman with a red cape?" Varyyn inquires, a curious gleam in his bright yellow eyes. Diego had him dressed in a comfortable hoodie and sweat pants for the season.

"Yes, my man, yes." Craig says proudly, fishing out his phone and showing some digitally made artworks, albeit seeming like drafts, for the Elyyshar. "Our team is planning to make a video game out of the Northbridge heroes and I am so pumped!"

"But the more superheroes come forward, the more villains pop out too." Diego says, putting three teaspoons of sugar into his cream-colored coffee. "Northbridge's reconstruction of buildings is non-stop, and a survey from their Mayor's office says that half of the city wants to evacuate if this keeps up."

"Man, that sucks." Sean shakes his head. "But heroes always win, right? Maybe it's tough now, but eventually the good guys will find a way to restore peace and order. Hopefully that kind of problem with super villains don't spread out to other places."

A knock comes from the door, and almost everyone jumps at the sudden noise. It takes a moment for them to look at each other, and Craig strides to the door nervously and presses his face to the peep hole. "Yo, she's here!"

It takes another series of unlocking and clicks before Craig pulls the door open to welcome Estela, who steps in with her usual wary look. "…Good morning."

"Mornin' Estela! Coffee?" Raj bounds to her cheerfully with a mug, which Estela takes with a grateful nod.

"Er, I hope your flight proved to be alright…? Did you have any problem?" Aleister stands up, trying not to show the worry and uncertainty in his smile. He's failing.

Estela simply shakes her head and stands at the side of the sofa, mug in hand. "It went alright. Thanks." She pauses, avoiding Aleister's eyes, and finally mutters, "How's… Reggie?"

"He's chipper and healthy. You should visit him soon." Aleister answers briefly with a smile. Estela nods with small smile, although warm and eager.

Furball jumps off Quinn's lap and nuzzles against the Colombian's leg, to which she would give a small, gentle pat on its head. She tries to conceal a smile as her fingers brush against its soft fur. Everyone resumes talking as they waited for Zahra.

Jake savors the warm taste of rich black coffee. He turns to Grace from across the table, who was watching some videos of their kid on her phone.

"Missing him, eh?" He smiles.

Grace's head snaps to him, her expression surprised, but she relaxes and nods proudly. "Mom's taking care of him while we're here… It's something of an apology from her, but she's actually really fond of her grandchild. Reginald's been a handful, but that's okay. He's happy, we're happy, and I think that all that matters."

"Good to hear that," Jake says briefly, sipping from his mug. He takes a few seconds before sucking in air sharply. "You… mentioned about the Prism Gate being in Northbridge. How far is that place from here?"

"It's an hour drive to the west of Hartfeld. It's a pretty big city, and as you may hear…" She looks at the rest of the gang, with Craig surveying who was their favorite hero. "It's been unsafe and alarming. Over the course of five months, a lot of casualties and superhero conflicts had happened. It was tough for the PI to investigate."

"Yeah, that… Anything you might wanna share? Brief us or something."

The group falls silent as Grace takes a minute to organize her thoughts. "The PI shared some interesting matters over the last five months. When Craig asked last time if the Prism Gate is any way connected to the superheroes, I said yes. The initial discovery was that all the super humans so far had a trace of the crystal's particles in their bloodstream."

Craig whistled. "Daaaaaaamn."

"Additionally, Silas produced a liquified version of the crystals which he called the Liquid Prism. The news says these things have been stolen and passed on from criminal to criminal, and with the rising rates of supervillains, the conclusion is that these Liquid Prism have been consumed to produce such an army."

Varyyn appears surprised. "This is… the potential of Vaanu's crystals have more to offer than what we know. Such power was not discovered by anyone in the Vaanti."

"We don't know for sure if these crystals have been harnessed differently by the Prescott Industries to have this kind of effect on humans." Grace says. "They've been studying these for 25 years. Maybe we'll get some answers once Zahra gets access on the files."

"This is why Silas Prescott has likely increased security in his properties." Aleister continues. His hand intertwines with Grace's, thumb gently grazing over her skin. "The rampant rate of super villains grows day by day, and stronger. Who knows which mastermind would get their hands on the Liquid Prism next if he would not secure them."

The discussion is interrupted as a disheveled Zahra throws open the door of her office. She doesn't say anything. Her eyes are wide, looking at everyone gathered.

Craig jogs to her side. "Z? You okay?"

"God, and I thought we were doing something illegal." Zahra shakes her head. "Guys, you have to see this."

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arse-blathanna · 6 years

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Evening Report - Chapter 13/?

Chapter 13: black and blues

[Ao3] [FFN] [Fic Tag]

Fic Summary: Blake Belladonna has one job in her life, and its to provide accurate information in a timely manner. A relatively mundane story is all that it takes to throw her into direct contact with Weiss Schnee, whose family secrets could make or break Blake’s career as a journalist.

Word Count: 4,711

Chapter Summary: A quick trip to the airport and a sleepover help clear up a lot of the more fine points of Weiss' current arrangement.

Author’s Notes: Thank you all for reading! From my end, this story is close to done and I hope you all look forward to where it ends up. But that won’t be for a while, I don’t think.

For an entire week, Blake didn't hear anything from Weiss. She didn't hear so much as a single whisper or a pin drop- up until she got a call late at night from Weiss. She had been up at her desk, paying attention to her job and doing a final read-over of an article. The work was as dull as ever, but it was something that Blake knew needed to be done.

Weiss had informed her that her friends were coming from Vale to visit. The length of the visit had gone unspecified. That had been the night before.

[Read it on Ao3] [Read it on FFN]

Blake hadn't exactly had a good way to gauge just how fast the rich and famous could make it from point A to point B. Namely, she hadn't been considering that it was possible that either the Vasilias or the Adel families had their own private planes. In her world, getting a plane ticket at a reasonable price usually meant booking weeks in advance, or keeping airline rewards in her back pocket from the last time that one of her flights out of Atlas had been delayed.

For that reason, she was slumped in the back of the Schnee Car that she had spent so much time in- also not something she ever would have really expected from her life. Weiss had rolled up in front of her building that morning bearing coffee and looking entirely too ready to be even awake that day. She’d been perfectly groomed and sitting ramrod straight. Ready to make appearances. And yeah, if that hadn't been a bad sign of what was to come, Blake didn't know what was. She'd ended up having to scramble to get dressed before she went out and met Weiss. After that, Klein was driving them straight to the airport with no time for stopping. They pulled up in front of the large building, and Blake found herself feeling more and more unsure of herself with every passing moment. This had the potential to go horribly, horribly wrong, and Blake couldn't shake her own awareness of that fact. Weiss was calm though. She was of course looking down at her phone every couple of minutes before she finally smiled wide, shoved it into her pocket, and moved to climb out of the car. "They're here." She announced all too calmly. "Come on." And there it was, that awareness that if things were going to start falling apart, this was going to be where it happened. Blake grimaced, drank down the rest of her coffee and then climbed out of the car to follow closely after Weiss. The two of them walked inside, and all that Weiss needed to do in order to make sure that she got where she wanted to be was flash an ID card. Klein stopped by the entrance to a small area, and then Weiss and Blake were stepping inside. "So they're here." Blake said, staring out the window at a small plane that had just stopped on the tarmac. "How long before we see them?" "Only a couple of minutes." Weiss said calmly. She was smiling, and Blake couldn't help but think that Weiss looked happier than she had in a long time. It was like she was finally able to relax again. "You're sure that this is a good idea?" Blake prompted, knowing that her worry was getting worse and worse and more and more noticeable. "They'll love you." Weiss answered, smiling up at Blake. "I promise." Despite it all, Blake wasn't convinced. That wasn't a surprise by any means. It was just something that was making things much harder on her. "Right." Blake confirmed, reaching for her pocket and turning off her phone. She didn't want to end up making it look like she was doing any work that day. The door on the other side of the room opened, and in streamed two people, one right after the other. The first was a woman, with short brown hair that was adorned by a long section that was dyed a vibrant shade of vermillion. Behind her, a tall man with tanned skin, shocking blue hair, and a wide smile. Somehow this wasn't what she'd been expecting. She’d been expecting something more… uppity than dyed hair and interesting fashion choices. "Neptune, Coco!" Weiss said, taking a few steps forward in what managed to almost look like a light jog. She opened her arms up and wrapped them around Coco, who stepped right into her grip. "I'm so glad to see you." "Hey, we're glad to see you too." Neptune replied, smiling wide. His eyes fell on Blake then, and Blake took the chance to immediately size the man up. He was handsome, in his own way. Looked a little bit too nice, all things considered. Something about him reminded Blake of a puppy, but she didn’t know what that was exactly. Mostly, Blake didn't think too much of him at first glance. Weiss pulled away from Coco and then gave Neptune a hug hello before finally pulling away and facing Blake. "Oh, Neptune, Coco, this is Blake Belladonna." "Hello." Blake greeted them. "It's nice to meet you."

Coco looked at Blake, and Blake was immediately left feeling like she was being held under a microscope. There was something about Coco Adel that felt dangerous, but Blake wasn't quite able to figure out what that thing might have been. It could have been anything really, the way that she held herself, the high fashion, the way that she slid her glasses down her nose and stared at Blake with narrowed brown eyes. Dangerous. "Right." Coco says, her gaze sliding over towards Weiss. "This is the one you told us about?" "She is." Weiss confirmed, stepping up to Blake's side. Blake didn't think anything of it at first, and then she felt the careful slide of Weiss' hand into her own. "I was hoping that I could introduce all of you." "Well," Neptune stepped forward, putting on a wide grin that only managed to look goofy. He leaned forward slightly into a bow and glanced up at Blake, still smiling. "I am always glad to meet a beautiful woman." Blake didn't know what to say, especially considering that this man was, by many technicalities, her romantic rival. Not that Weiss actually seemed interested in the man, but more because he was just the first person that had come to Weiss' mind when she'd needed an excuse. "Uh... right." Blake responded. There was a careful squeeze of her hand before Weiss pulled away from her. "It's nice to meet you too." Weiss looked from Blake to Neptune, and Blake couldn't help but think that she looked wholly unsure of what to make of things. Maybe Neptune's playful flirting (if it could even be called that) had thrown Weiss off. Maybe there was something else going on. "We should probably get out of here." Weiss said, her gaze flicking back to the door. She was nervous, that much was obvious. "I hear that there are a lot of nice restaurants here in Atlas with nice specials?" "I would like real food." Neptune said, stretching and resting his hands behind his head. "I don't know about Coco, but I just want to sit down, catch up, and meet your new friend." Weiss looked to Blake and smiled. Blake felt a little bit more comfortable, but it wasn't going to be permanent- that much she was sure of. "More than friends, actually." Weiss clarified, though she dropped her volume significantly. "I know that there's a lot that we're going to need to talk about-" "It's fine." Neptune said, and it sounded like he was doing his best to reassure them both. HE dropped his hands back down to his sides and rolled back onto heels just slightly before continuing. "I don't think that there will be too much weird stuff because of this." "I hope so." Blake sighed, deciding that maybe the best way to go about this was to join in on the conversation. "I don't think that anything will be able to work out if we don't take the time to talk it over." "It sounded pretty simple to me." Coco commented, holding her head up high and glancing over at Blake from behind her sunglasses. "You two just need to be able to play along while you need to is all."

And yeah, that was the issue for the most part, but that didn't make the whole thing any less awkward. Instead of getting into it with Coco, Blake bit her tongue and walked along with Weiss and her friends. They climbed into the car that Klein had brought, and it was a little bit more crowded than Blake would have liked. She found herself squeezed into the back against the left window of the car. Coco sat in the middle, and then Neptune took the right. The drive wasn't a long one, but soon they were being brought in front of Schnee Manor and Blake felt her panic begin to rise because that hadn't been a part of this. Of course it was possible that Weiss was hosting her friends, or it was also possible that they were there just for a quick stop. Blake didn't know, and she didn't like any of it. All that she knew was that Schnee Manor was a place where she very distinctly didn’t belong. Weiss turned in her seat and looked back at the rest of them. "We're just stopping so that we can get a better car, is that okay?" "I'd like something with more room." Coco said with a shrug. "That way I don't have to mess around with Neptune." "Hey!" Neptune exclaimed. "I'm a perfectly good travel partner." "Sitting next to you on a plane for three hours says otherwise." Coco responded, smirking. From where she was sitting, Blake just watched the others. A lot of what she was trying to do was figure out the best way to engage the others. She didn't know how she was supposed to interact with them. But they got into the new car, which was, as promised much larger. Much, much, larger than Blake had been thinking it would be. Blake hadn't been expecting a limousine, by any means. She climbed into the back alongside Weiss. Neptune and Coco both took the places to spread out a little bit to make themselves more comfortable too. "So," It was Coco to begin the conversation instead of anyone else, and that had to be expected, Blake thought. Neptune was playful in ways that she'd never really seen working alongside Weiss. And Weiss was probably just trying to keep a cool head so that she would be able to handle everything that came up. "What is it?" Weiss asked, looking Coco in the eyes. "How's dear old dad?" Coco asked, gesturing out the window towards the outline of the hospital. Blake blinked- a part of her told her that she needed to start taking notes so that she could do her job. But it was probably for the best if she didn't tip the others off to what she did for a living. Not when it ran the risk of making things extraordinarily difficult later on. Weiss looked back over her shoulder to see that Klein was still paying attention to the road and sighing. She was looking down at her hands in her lap. "He's... not well." Weiss explained, keeping her voice down. "Winter and I went to see him the other day, and he's just... completely unresponsive. It's looking... better, but it’s still not good." "I'm sorry." Coco sighed. "That's awful. You know that we're here for as long as you need us to be here, right?" "I do." Weiss said, forcing a smile. She looked over at Blake. "I've had help here in the city, but it means a lot."

Blake felt her cheeks flush, but tried hard not to let any of her personal alarm over that show. She hadn't really thought that she had been doing all that much for Weiss, but if Weiss thought as much... Blake didn't know what to feel, and she couldn't exactly go pretending like she did know. "Well," Coco sighed. "We're going to be here for you anyways. Anything you need, you know that you can just call." "I do." Weiss said, smiling slightly. "But I'd like to start with the elephant in the room." Neptune nodded slowly and looked from Weiss and then over to Blake. He looked nervous himself, and Blake couldn't exactly blame him for it. To have to talk about this sort of thing when she and Weiss had barely even just started dating - if it could even be called that, was awkward. There was no avoiding that fact. Blake nodded, and Weiss began to explain. "As of right now, my family thinks that you have been here in Atlas since I arrived back in the city." Weiss explained, keeping herself as calm and relaxed as possible. "They don't know about Blake's presence aside from Klein, and the same is true with regards to our relationship." "And Klein won't say anything." Neptune said, smiling softly. "I've got it. Is there anything else-" Weiss nodded, and Blake looked over at her. She couldn't exactly explain how unsure she was feeling over the whole thing. "Yes." Weiss said finally. "I can't say whether or not we'll have to do anything, but as of right now I wouldn't expect to be brought to anything terribly... public." "Right." Neptune nodded. He looked up at Blake and their eyes met. There was a long beat before Blake finally decided that she wanted to say something for herself. "I'm okay with this." Blake explained calmly. "I don't like it, but I'm okay with it." "Don't like it because of me, or because-" "Because it has to be done in the first place." Blake sighed. "It's... unfortunate. For everyone involved." "Well, yeah, it is." Neptune said with a slight shrug. "But you know Jacques Schnee-" Blake shook her head. "I don't know anyone directly." She sighed. "Weiss is the first member of the family that's been willing to talk to me." "You're a reporter, right?" Coco butts into the conversation. "Writing about SchneeCorp?" And that was really the first question that anyone had bothered to ask her about what she was doing there. Blake didn't quite know how she felt about it all, but she figured the least she could do was explain herself. Preferably without accidentally incriminating herself the entire time. "I do." Blake said, holding her head high. "I know that probably isn't ideal, but I do it for a reason." "Which is?" Coco asks, leaning in towards Blake just slightly from the other side of the limousine. "To hold people in positions of power accountable for their actions." Blake explained, keeping her voice a little bit quiet. Her eyes flicked up towards where Klein was sitting in the front of the vehicle and couldn't help but feel a little bit of guilt. Why, she wasn't quite sure. Neptune nodded and leaned back in his seat. "I don't see anything wrong with that," he said, shrugging. "I mean, Jacques-" "My father isn't the kindest of businessmen, I know." Weiss said, and she actually sounded a little bit angry over it. "And that's why I want to be able to be better for my father's company than him or my brother it's just..." All at once Weiss' voice went quiet. Soft and sad, like she didn't know how she was supposed to say or do anything. "It's hard thinking about all of this right now." "Of course." Blake sighed. "I'm sorry." "Me too." Neptune said, looking sheepish. "I didn't mean to-" "I know." Weiss murmured. "It's just... hard." "Which is why we're here for you." Coco said. She looked like she was wishing that she was on the other side of the limo beside Weiss instead of Blake, but she didn't move to get up. She just sat there and watched Weiss from her side of the vehicle. "You don't have to put up with this alone." "I know." Weiss whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. "I know." Blake didn't know what to say or do, so she just reached over and placed her hand on top of Weiss'. Weiss smiled just slightly and turned her hand under Blake's touch. Blake squeezed gently and said nothing, because that was all that she knew to do. "So how did you two meet, anyways?" Neptune asked, clearly doing his best to break some of the tension. His eyes fell on their hands, and Blake noticed that there was just the slightest smile creasing his expressions. Blake and Weiss looked at each other, both unsure of what they were supposed to say. Finally, Weiss decided to explain. "She gave me her work number so that she could ask me some questions." And really, Blake couldn't help but think that was a generous way to explain it all. Weiss was very kindly leaving out a few details, and Blake really did appreciate it. "Really?" Neptune asked, wrinkling his nose up just slightly. He looked at Blake with a look of disbelief on his face, and Blake really wished that she could have done something to prove herself against it. Strange situations were strange and all. "That's... explaining it loosely." Blake sighed. "But yes." And then it was Coco to speak up next, looking Weiss in the eyes and finally taking the moment to remove her sunglasses. "Doesn't exactly seem romantic." "It wasn't." Blake deadpanned. "I was just trying to do my job, really." Coco's expression sank into a playful sort of smirk. "And you said yes?" She asked, watching the way that Weiss sat up a little straighter. She almost looked predatory, but more in the way that she was looking for some sort of 'gotcha' moment rather than anything else. And more than anything, Coco managed to make it all come off as being playful above all else. That was something that Blake had to admire, at least on some level.

But at her side, Weiss just blushed. “It was more complicated than that, but yes.” Coco stared Weiss down in a way that clearly communicated that she was looking for something, but said nothing. Instead, she just relaxed back into her seat slightly. “You’ve got weird taste, Weiss.” “I know.” Weiss said, sounding almost sheepish. “But I like Blake a lot.” “And that’s what matters.” Coco sighed, looking back over at Neptune.”Be careful, blue.” “I will." Neptune said, looking between Weiss and Blake. "You have my word. I'm here for you two, be sure of it." "Thank you." Weiss said, smiling finally and relaxing again. Blake just bit her tongue and tried not to focus on the vast number of things that were wrong with this situation. It was a half-baked plan, and Blake could only hope that it wouldn't bite any of them later. But for now, she could wait.

The entire day passed, and eventually Weiss was able to retire to her home. The plan had been simple enough. Coco was going to get a hotel in the city, while she and Neptune were going to be sharing some space to figure out some of the finer details of their current arrangement. Neptune deposited his things in a corner of the room, and Weiss just sat down awkwardly on the side of her bed. Klein had already brought up some things to make sure that Neptune would have a place to sleep that night, and that helped. At the very least, it made things more comfortable for her. Once he was satisfied, Neptune took a seat on the soft cushion and looked up at Weiss with a wide smile. "This is pretty awkward, huh?" He asked, clearly making himself comfortable. "All things considered." "It is." Weiss sighed. She wanted to get down and sit next to Neptune, but that would have to come later. "Thank you for coming up to do this." "I don't mind." Neptune replied, shrugging. "I mean, it's the least that I could do for you, right?" "But you didn't have to." Weiss rebutted. "You could have just stayed in Vale and left me to deal with all of this on my own." She was sure to keep her voice down, just in case there was someone that would want to overhear. Not that there were many of those, but Weiss didn't trust most of the family staff, and Whitley was usually a bit of a snake. "But that would have been shitty." Neptune said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. He moved then, deciding to stretch his legs out and make himself a little bit more comfortable there. "I know how they are, Weiss." "I know." She sighed. "It's... so exhausting. I've talked to Blake about how they are a little bit, but..." "Nothing quite describes it?" Neptune asked, staring up at her sympathetically. "Because I could believe that." "I just don't like that this is how things are." Weiss whispered. "A part of me wishes that I could just end up like my sister because at least that way I wouldn't be stuck like this." "Is... that what you really want?" Neptune asked. He looked sad, and for the first time Weiss realized that he looked a little bit exhausted. He had to be at least a little bit jet lagged, Weiss thought. But mostly, Neptune looked worried. And really, Weiss just didn't know whether or not she had a way to actually answer that question. It wasn't anywhere near as simple of an issue as it could be, and Weiss had no way to properly confront that. Not when they were specifically talking about her wanting to estrange herself from her family. "I don't know." She finally admitted. "It would mean that I would get to spend more time with Winter, but..." Weiss shook her head. "I just don't understand what is so wrong with my family. We should be one of the shining lights of society, people that others would want to look up to, but instead..." Weiss took a deep breath. "Instead it's just a mess." "Well," Neptune looked like he was doing his best to pick his words carefully. He shifted his position, craning his neck slightly so that he could look over Weiss' shoulder to get a good view of the door. He was worried about the two of them being overheard then. That was good to know. "I don't know that it's what I should say, but..." "My father?" Weiss asked, looking for that little confirmation that it was indeed what Neptune was thinking about. "Is that it?" "I think so." Neptune said finally. "You've said a lot of things about him since we've known each other, and Weiss-" He paused. "he's a monster. I wished that you didn't have to deal with it." "I know." Weiss groaned. "You know that Blake used to do factory sabotages?" She asked Neptune, because it came to mind as something that was worth talking about. At the very least, Weiss was sure that this was something that she could trust Neptune with. "And it was all because of my father and the way that he ran businesses." Neptune, however, looked a little bit shocked by it all. He leaned back away from her just slightly and blinked twice before allowing himself to say anything else. "Are you..." He hesitated. "Weiss, are you sure that seeing Blake is a good idea in that case?" "I'm sure." Weiss sighed, feeling a weird pang of something akin to guilt she couldn't quite identify. "I like Blake, a lot. I think that she understands that I don't have anything to do with that stuff, but sometimes I have to wonder..."

She looked off to the side, looking for the words that she needed but ultimately found herself reaching for something that she couldn’t quite find.

“You’re just trying to figure it out, aren’t you?” Neptune finished, seemingly doing his best to be supportive for a little while. Weiss definitely appreciated it, if only because Neptune had always been a good confidant for her.

"I am." Weiss finally sighed. "Just because Winter, you and Coco seem to be fine with it doesn't mean that many other people will be. Blake is a lot of things, but I don't know that I'll be able to pass her off as acceptable to the people around me."

She laid down on her bed, flopping down in a way so that she could still stare at her friend. Neptune adjusted how he was resting a little bit to accommodate for the change, and just shrugged.

"You know that me and Coco are going to be there for you no matter what, right?"

"I do." Weiss admitted, feeling a little bit warmer but still unsure of herself. "I'm just worried about what could happen. What if we broke up and she published something? What if she suddenly decides that she doesn't even care about confidentiality anymore?"

Her voice went quiet as one of the absolute worst case scenarios came to Weiss' mind.

"What if I end up getting chased out of the company for choosing to fraternize with her?"

"Fraternize?" Neptune asked, laughing and flopping back into his bedding in a way that was entirely too nonchalant. He was relaxed, and that was a good thing by Weiss' view at least. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"That's what it will be called if they find out." Weiss nearly snaps back. "I'm expecting to end up like Winter no matter what happens. And I still don't know whether or not that's something that I'll want to deal with."

"But you said-"

"You don't have siblings." Weiss said, glancing back over at Neptune. "And you don't have a family that would be happy to punish you for anything that came up."

"I know." Neptune mumbled back, frowning slightly. "I get that I'm lucky. I get that Coco's lucky, I just..." he paused and looked up into Weiss' eyes like he was looking for something. It just made her want to shrink back and out of sight because that would be so much more comfortable. "I just wish that you could be happy."

"I feel the same way." Weiss sighed. "I want to think that Blake might be a chance at that, but it's so complicated."

Neptune nodded and turned, lying back down on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He ended up resting his folded hands on his stomach and breathing deeply as he thought. There was something going on in his head, and Weiss didn't know what.

"Do you want to know what I think?" Neptune asked finally, keeping his voice down and his tone calm. "About all of this?"

"I think that I'd like to know." Weiss said, mimicking him from where she was lying. It reminded her of all of the years of rule breaking back when they'd been in prep school.

"I think you should do it." Neptune finally said with a slight shrug. "If you think it'll make you happy."

Ultimately, that did end up being what Weiss had needed to hear, more or less. That didn't mean that it did anything to calm her down, or to make her feel more relaxed about the situation at hand. Nothing really could. It was late. All that Weiss needed was one look over at the clock to figure out that it was very late, and that the two of them really needed to rest. Weiss sighed and settled back into the bed. "We should sleep." "Yeah," Neptune grumbled. "Probably." "Okay." Weiss said. She got up and went to get her things so that she could get ready for bed while Neptune slipped off to change himself. When he came back in, he closed the door behind her. Weiss found herself texting Blake from under the blankets much later than she should have, if only because she wasn't able to calm down enough to rest. Eventually, she managed to fall asleep.

#RWBY #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #monochrome #checkmating #oops my hand slipped #mantiswrites #evening report

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schwiftit-blog · 6 years

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Can I get a Rick/reader where the reader is a young scientist that stumbles into something Rick had also been working on and they meet because of it? More on the platonic side of possible? Sorry if this is confusing. Love your writing btw!

(Thank you!! Uh, so, I really got carried away with this and its so long lol. Like, 2000 words long. Hope this is what you were looking for though! It got a little fluffy at the end, but still stayed in the sphere of platonic interactions soooo)

The threat of Time Prison as an indefinite sentence scared you half to death. It was rare you ventured out into the galaxies for materials, much preferring to see what you could do with what earth had to offer first. The anxiety of your upcoming mission was a thick sludge restricting your wind pipe, making breathing hard and your hands sweaty. You were shaking as you dressed in a simple set of black gear with two guns at your sides, a backpack slung over your shoulders, and your teleporter in hand.

You press the launch button and feel yourself disintegrate into thin air, only to be reassembled somewhere else. The sensation was similar to a limb falling asleep and you hated the buzzing that always seemed to linger an hour after teleporting. However, what you were sought after was more than worth it––For you, this would be the breakthrough of the century.

You find yourself in the center of a high ceiling building, alien technology lining the walls. Thick circuits and wires wound and braided were intermingling into a colorful waterfall of loose cables everywhere you looked. There was a deep blue tint to the metal walls, a flashing red light whirred through the spacious room, and you could smell the heavy intoxication of alien and human anti septic.

You swallowed audibly and rubbed your hands together in an effort to steel yourself. You were here for a reason, you had a purpose, a mission to complete and your fear was not an option.

You set off quietly into the thresholds of the room, unsure exactly of what sort of intergalactic, high security building you were in. You had found the coordinates with fine calculations, rechecking them several times before setting out on this adventure. The time and location was right, you just needed to find it.

You kept your breath hushed and your actions nimble, scouring the room for what you knew was here: A crystallized athenite otherwise known as a time crystal. The situation was dire and you were near positive this would crack the code to, well, time travel itself. That was still a working theory of yours, but if the athenite was being this heavily guarded, it would prove useful no matter what.

You find the crystal in a suspended glass case an hour later. It took many hallways and turns, the stealing of a gromflamite guard’s keycard to access several different rooms, but you had finally found it. Your hands were clammy again beneath your gloves as you carefully stalked forward.

At this point, you were fairly sure you were in the clear. Your heartbeat quickened and anxiety flushed through you like a cold sweat. You were just so close.

After matching your stolen ID to the case, the glass slid away to reveal the crystallized athenite in all its looming glory. It shone like a beacon, the pink light bouncing off the walls and you couldn’t hold back the small sigh of relief as you held it in your––

“S-Shit! Shit! Get the––Get the fuck out of the way! M-Morty! Over there, over there, fuck!”

You can hear the screaming from down the hall and panic grips your heart. The alarms blare throughout the building not even seconds later and suddenly the place is on lockdown. Its chilling, the facility going dark and illuminated suddenly by only red alarms. You can hear an army’s worth of feet rushing towards you and you whip out your teleporter as soon as you see blue hair round the corner.

You hear the guards shouting a name, Rick Sanchez, over and over.

“W-Who the fu-fuck are you?” The man shouts, anger and frustration and annoyance mingling on his face to produce the world’s angriest grimace.

There’s shouting and then you blip out of existence, crystallized athenite in hand and the man’s blue eyes boring into your core. When you reappear in the center of your messy apartment, the pulsating crystal in hand, you slump to the floor and almost laugh hysterically at the fact that you managed to pull this off.

You knew the man from the gomflamite security building was going to pursue you. When you’d caught a glimpse of aged skin and blue hair, you knew the man was from earth and was definitely also in pursuit of your time crystal. It was only a matter of time before the man found you and tried to steal it away. So, you set to working on your new and improved portal gun with a fervor you hadn’t manifested since last year’s college finals.

Within a week you had found several uses for the crystal: Freezing time, hooking it up to your cable box for unlimited channels, and utilizing it on your laptop to find intergalactic sites. However, you couldn’t seem to make it do much more than that in terms of actual time travel.

Two weeks later you were entirely too frustrated. A month later and you were near calling it quits. In a rush of true frustration at the three month mark you set off to finding the coordinates of the blue haired man, hoping maybe by presenting the athenite crystal for him, he’d be willing to teach you what he intended to fucking do with it.

You manifest within the threshold of some small garage. There are gadgets on every wall, lining the shelves and the workbench. Some of the alien technology you recognize, most of it you do not. After all, you were young and had had little exposure with aliens seeing as you were still nervous about traveling between the galaxies.

You swallow, realizing how horribly this plan could go. Not wanting to intrude on the person’s home much further, you decide to wait it out in the garage until––

Who you believe must be the Rick Sanchez from the facility and a redheaded girl walk into the garage chatting. Rick notices you first, the girl second, both looking equally shocked at your unexpected arrival.

“Woah th-there, who the fuck…” Recognition flits over the older man’s face.

You pull out the crystal before he can say anymore, effectively silencing him for mere moments.

“My name is ___,” You begin, “And…Well, I’m here with a proposition. Of sorts.”

Rick rolls his eyes much to your disbelief, “Not interested.” He says before you can continue, his tone sharp.

“B-But you haven’t even heard what I––”

“Don’t care. R-Rick Sanchez doesn’t––I don’t do collabs.” He scoffs, brushing you off as if what you’re offering is some crude science fair project.

For a moment you are at a loss for words when the redhead speaks up on your behalf, “Grandpa Rick, you’re being so rude right now. I’m sorry he’s being rude, he’s been day drinking. Look,” She turns her attention to you, “What are you offering? He’s been whining about that crystal for the last month. So, I know he wants it.”

“S-Summer––” Rick shouts, exasperation thick in his voice.

“I’m offering the time crystal in exchange…Like, interning with it. I wanted…What I needed to do with it isn’t working. I realize I need help with it. I’m willing to offer you whatever other useful things my own lab may have to help.”

After that fateful day, you felt you were practically indebted to Summer Smith for life. The discussion had quickly turned into a fierce argument about the likelihood of time travel after Rick asked you to explain what you wanted to do with the crystal. But, eventually, Rick was able to prove that it was, indeed, an impossible feat. Once that was squared away, you two had immediately gotten to work figuring out what information either had in an effort to put your individual talents to good work.

The next step was Rick going through your lab, gathering some of the materials you had. You knew he was taking more than he actually needed, but you recognized his genius as priceless and were willing to part with much of your items in exchange for vast knowledge.

“W-Wait, you’re telling me it took you a week to make that toaster?” Rick asked as he held the kitchen appliance in hand.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “Yeah, what of it? It makes perfectly toasted toast. That takes time and patience to perfect. Its an exact science.”

“Toast isn’t a…It isn’t a fucking science.” He grabbed it anyways and you cocked a brow, “Toast is stupid. Its just…Just recooked bread.”

“If its so stupid, then what are we going to use it for?”

Rick shrugged, “Morty’ll get a––Get a kick out of it once I recalibrate it to make h-his idea of perfect toast.”

Its late on a school night several weeks later when you and Rick decide to call your nightly tinkering quits. The project was coming along nicely, but it was nowhere near completion even with both of your geniuses at hand.

At some point Rick had convinced you to run to the store for more beer, and by the time the two of you had cracked open the third pack, you had a severe case of the giggles. Rick himself seemed to be in a lighter mood as well and he’d pushed away from the bench and guided you to the living room.

After a long pull from his flask and hooking up the crystallized athenite to the cable box, Rick had put on Ball Fondlers in an attempt to relax. You sat on the couch, long legs taking up the majority of the couch as you laid your head on the armrest. You were drunk, completely and utterly, and you realized it had been a long time since you’d just kicked back with someone.

Even if that someone ended up being a seventy year old man.

“You know? I did this too. I think this might be the best use for this stupid fucking crystal.”

Rick nodded, passing his flask over to you. You take a small sip and pass it back, lazy smiles on both of your faces.

“Y-Yeah, that means something coming from the girl wh-who thought time travel was possible.” Rick teased, turning up the volume some.

You snatch the last beer and stick your tongue out at him, the fuzzy glow of the tv softening both of your features.

You don’t remember falling asleep on the Smith’s couch, but you do remember a bit of beer being spilled on your face, followed by a string of curse words and a blanket being thrown over your body.

#Anonymous #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez/reader #myfic #rick x reader #this took me like so long to write i got stuck halfway but im glad i finished it #please tell me of any typos I've read through it three times now but idk

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robininthelabyrinth · 6 years

Text

Countless Roads - Chapter 20

Fic: Countless Roads - Chapter 20 - Ao3

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Gen, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, others

Summary: Due to a family curse (which some call a gift), Leonard Snart has more life than he knows what to do with – and that gives him the ability to see, speak to, and even share with the various ghosts that are always surrounding him.

Sure, said curse also means he’s going to die sooner rather than later, just like his mother, but in the meantime Len has no intention of letting superheroes, time travelers, a surprisingly charming pyromaniac, and a lot of ghosts get in the way of him having a nice, successful career as a professional thief.

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“You know, you guys can leave me alone, right?” Len says. He’s said it before, mildly. He’s moved on to pointedly. He's seriously considering an escalation to 'backed up with physical violence'. “I’m fine.”

“Of course you’re fine,” Cisco says, snuggling into Lisa on the couch. “I’m here to support Lisa.”

“I have trauma,” Lisa puts in, smirking.

For all her lighthearted one, Len doesn’t actually doubt that she's being semi-serious about that, given that she hasn’t let him out of her sight since the events with their dad. He tried to apologize to her about killing Lewis – he was their dad, despite it all, and it was an awful way to die – and she punched him in the face, then apologized. She didn’t pull her punch at all, either; sometimes he still feels the echo of the bruise on his cheek even though it’s been a few weeks.

Of course, she’s nothing compared to Mick, who’s barely willing to go to the kitchen long enough to get them all snacks. It’s like they think Len will be kidnapped the second he takes a step outside if he's not being supervised.

Len’s not some sort of fragile porcelain doll that needs to be wrapped in bubblewrap, damnit.

Okay, yes, he’s been a bit twitchy ever since Barry reported that Cabrera’s body hadn’t been found in the remains of the burned building, though Barry did say hopefully that several bodies were burned beyond recognition and that surely Cabrera is one of them. And, yes, maybe Len's been sublimating some of his feelings about his dad's death and everything that happened into being a bit more cautious than usual about it, feeling like he should be looking over his shoulder constantly, but it is what it is. It's certainly not a problem or anything.

Seriously.

They're being ridiculous.

“What are we watching?” Len asks, finally resigning himself to the inevitable and giving in to the absurdity that is the recently declared Team Flash (and Junior Rogues) movie night.

“Minority Report,” Caitlin says, with just a hint of snark in her tone. “It should be paranoid enough for Barry.”

“I’m not paranoid,” Barry grumbles. “Len's paranoid. I'm just cautious, that's all. Weird stuff just keeps happening.”

“You are a superhero,” Lisa points out.

“Yeah, but does that mean I have to fight, like, telepathic gorillas? Or so-called immortal assholes with knives?”

Len rolls his eyes. He’d been very glad to sit that latter one out – Barry’d had a good point in that Team Arrow, or whatever they were calling themselves over in Star City, needed to have a chance to meet Jax and Webber without any preconceived notions like, say, well-known criminals hanging around.

Yes, Len is perfectly aware that Barry's explanation was a lie designed to make him okay with being benched at least until the stitches he’d gotten in the back of his head were taken out, but he doesn’t care. They’re out now - Caitlin removed them earlier in the week - and he’s fine, and, he hates to keep stressing this, he’s not actually part of the superhero squad. He and his Rogues, Junior or otherwise, are villains. Thieves. Bad guys.

Admittedly, their most heinous act recently was tasting that vaguely horrific and possibly sentient jello salad Jax brought over, but still...

“I’m not talking about the weird things you fight, Barry,” Caitlin says tartly. “I'm talking about your unjustified paranoia. Don’t think I don’t know that you still have your ghosts following Jay around! Even though he’s helped us half a dozen times – you don’t even have them following Harry around anymore, and he actually did steal your speed –”

“Well,” Barry says. “Actually…”

“Barry!” Iris snaps, only half-amused. She’s sitting over on the couch near Wally, as she has been these last few weeks – ever since the big Joe-and-Francine blow-up following the Family Secret Revelation Sequence, something else Len is very, very happy he missed. The whole thing set both kids against both parents, but at least Francine, with the assistance of timely marrow donations by Iris, is slowly on the mend and on a strict sobriety plan with Jenna’s able assistance.

Iris has also not really been talking to Barry since then, since he had the bad taste to side, however half-heartedly, with Joe on the subject of whether or not it was okay for him to conceal Francine’s existence. It hadn’t been pretty.

They’ve only just managed to convince both of them to be in the same movie night, and even then Iris only agreed to come because Wally was coming and Eddie was busy.

“What?!” Barry says defensively. “Snart gave me two ghosts, I had two people…”

“It’s not paranoia if they’re actually after you,” Len opines.

That just garners him dirty looks from around the room.

"Who are these people again?" he murmurs to Lisa and Cisco.

"Harry's the Harrison Wells double from Earth-2," Cisco murmurs back. "He came to help fight Zoom because his daughter Jesse was kidnapped. Jay is Earth-2's version of the Flash. He's been helping out with Flash things and science and stuff."

"You don't care," Lisa translates.

"I really don't," Len decides.

“But seriously, Barry,” Caitlin says, rolling her eyes at all of them since they'd only made the barest pretense at being subtle. “You should stop picking on Jay all the time. He’s sick, not evil. We should be helping him, not stalking him.”

“Wait, Jay’s sick?” Wally asks from where he and Jax are lolling around on the floor next to Iris. “He didn’t say anything about being sick.”

Caitlin flushes.

Lisa and Len share a look, scenting blood. Len inclines his head, yielding to Lisa.

“Caitlin,” Lisa purrs, leaning forward. “Did you do something bad?”

“No!”

“You did!”

“It was for his own good!” Caitlin exclaims, which means she totally did something unethical and feels bad about it. “I could see that his symptoms were getting worse...anyway, I figured it out. Ever since Zoom stole Jay's speed, he's been dying, little by little. It’s killing him! He said he didn't need my help, but I know that two minds are better than one. So I took a tiny little sample of his blood…”

“He definitely didn’t okay that,” Cisco says, starting to grin. “Caitlin, you sneaky fox. Should we be moving you to the Junior Rogues? What does Ronnie have to say about your interest, huh?”

“I just wanted to see if we could get him a transfusion from this world’s version of him,” Caitlin replies, blushing. “And Ronnie is fine with it, thanks! Ronnie wants to help him, too.”

“Ooh-la-la,” Lisa says dryly. “We may end up with another three-way in the making.”

“What do you mean, another?” Barry asks, because he is actually that oblivious sometimes. Iris scowls the scowl of the ‘we haven’t asked him yet and also I’m angry at him right now so stop pushing Lisa’ – Len’s intimately acquainted with various variations on that scowl.

“What’d you find?” Cisco asks hastily, derailing that conversation because Iris has made it clear that the first person to slip up and let Barry know about her and Eddie's extremely unsubtle interest in him will face her wrath, and no one, not even Len, is interested in that.

“Well, he says the transfusion idea won’t work,” Caitlin says with a sigh. “I couldn’t even find his duplicate at first, but Jay explained that it was just that his name had been changed, and that he’d already explored that option…”

Len frowns. “Wait, this Jay guy's name changed? To what?” he asks.

“Not Jay's name, the name of his duplicate on this Earth - he changed it to Hunter Zolomon. Why?”

“Are you telling me that everyone on Earth-2 has the same name as us except for this one guy?” Len says skeptically.

“Weird,” Jax says.

"Very weird," Barry says.

“Improbably weird,” Wally says. "He's definitely up to something."

“He just got his name changed, guys,” Caitlin says defensively. “It’s not a crime.”

“He changed his first name, too, which ain't really that common,” Len drawls. “That might not be a crime, but it’s suspicious. And given what happened with the last speedster mentor you had, that's enough for me. Barry, could you text that hacker friend of yours, see if she can ID this guy and find out when he changed his name?”

“Why?” Cisco asks. “What does it matter?”

“Because if he changed his name, or someone changed it for him, then that’s one thing,” Len says. “There’ll be records of it. But if there ain’t any records…” He trails off pointedly, raising his eyebrows. Mick, Lisa, and Wally - the ones more familiar with criminal habits - are all nodding; everyone else just looks confused.

“What does that mean?” Jax asks.

“No records means either he did it illegal - or, more likely, means your Earth-2 Jay Garrick’s the one faking his name, not his double here,” Mick explains. “And if he is, I’d like to know why.”

“I knew he was suspicious!” Barry exclaims triumphantly.

“You haven’t even checked yet!” Caitlin exclaims in reply.

“I’m texting Felicity now!”

The response arrives five minutes later.

“No name changes,” Barry says, looking up. “Sorry, Caitlin. Our Earth's Hunter Zolomon has always been named Hunter Zolomon. I told you something was up.”

“Okay, so he gave us a false name,” Caitlin says, still defensive, though even she sounds a little doubtful now. “I mean, it’s not evidence he’s up to something. Or that he’s bad or something. He's their Flash! I'm sure he has a reason.”

“Maybe he’s wanted on Earth-2,” Wally suggests.

“No, Harry recognized him,” Cisco says. “They hate each other.”

“All that means is that he changed his name while on Earth-2 and before he became that Earth's Flash,” Mick says. “Probably got a warrant out for him there.”

“Easy enough to check though, right?” Wally says. “Cisco, why don’t you ask Harry?” The last word is pointedly sing-song.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Cisco yelps, even as everyone - especially Lisa - smirks at him. “I don’t like him!”

“You totally like him,” Jax says.

“He’s helping us! We’re helping him! I hate his guts!”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Just ask him, will you?”

Cisco grumbles, but he pulls out his phone. “Siri, call Harry and put on speaker.”

The phone rings, then picks up. “Yes, Francisco, I turned the machine off already,” Harry snaps. “There's no need to check up on me, I’m not an infant -”

“No, no,” Cisco says soothingly. “We just had a quick question for you – do you happen to know anyone on Earth-2 called Hunter Zolomon?”

The phone is silent.

“Uh, Harry? Did we drop you –”

“No,” Harry says. “Where did you hear that name? I need to know right away.”

“Why?” Barry asks.

“Well,” Harry says, “because on my earth, Hunter Zolomon is a convicted serial killer.”

“He’s a what?!” the room choruses.

“Harry, would you be able to recognize him, if you saw him?” Caitlin asks, looking distressed. “You would, right?”

“Of course I could. The last photo of him – all shaggy hair, beard, everything – it’s, well. It’s unmistakable. I’ll be able to identify him immediately. Anyone would be. We don’t actually have that many serial killers, it’s something of an anomaly – he saw his mother killed by his father when he was a kid, and it apparently triggered something, and then when he grew up, he killed 23 people and was sentenced to a mental asylum, it was a pretty big deal - all over the news –”

“So he’d change his name if he wanted to go into hiding, huh?” Mick says.

“Except serial killers don’t really like hiding,” Len says, concerned. He remembers the last time he had to find a serial killer - if it hadn't been for Lisa...

“…wait, who is that speaking? Cisco?”

“Not important,” Barry says. “We have a different problem. See you soon, Harry.”

Len reaches forward to click off the phone.

“As I said,” he drawls, surveying all the wide-eyed faces around him. Caitlin in particular looks sick to her stomach. “It ain’t paranoia if they're actually out to get you.”

“Score a point for good communication,” Mick adds dryly.

“Uh,” Barry says, then shakes his head. “I must admit, that was – not what I was suspecting. I don't even know what I was suspecting, but it wasn't serial killer.”

“Me either,” Caitlin says, looking stunned. “He said – he was a scientist – he stayed at our house –”

Iris puts a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, Caitlin. But…speedster serial killer? That doesn't sound familiar to just me, does it?"

"Wait, you think - do you think he's Zoom?” Cisco demands.

"Why not?"

“He can’t be,” Barry says. “We’ve been watching him – he and Zoom have appeared at the same place at the same time before.”

“That’s no guarantee,” Cisco says, not without some bitterness, rubbing his chest.

“Besides, even if he’s not, he might still sell us out to Zoom,” Wally points out.

“He might be Zoom,” Iris says. “I’m telling you guys. If he's figured out some way to duplicate himself, then it'd be a great way to throw off the scent. Maybe it's a side-effect of that Velocity stuff Caitlin is working on for him?”

“I’m destroying it,” Caitlin says immediately.

“Not the immediate issue,” Len says. He lolls his head back on the couch. “Hey, Rakesh, Sirina.”

“Yeah, boss?” Rakesh says, popping up through the wall behind him, Sirina close behind. They're some of the newest members of Mick's ghost squad - new, but competent enough to get through Mick's preliminary tests.

“Go make sure Jay Garrick a.k.a Hunter Zolomon doesn’t escape.”

“Yes, boss!”

“I should probably…” Barry starts.

“Wait half a second before you go off half-cocked, Barry,” Lisa says. “He’s been in on the planning for our visit to Earth-2, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he’s the one who told us about Zoom’s army,” Iris says.

“Army?” Mick asks.

“Oh, yeah, that’s the latest,” Cisco says. “Zoom is gathering an army of metas from Earth-2 to defend their home and also come get us here. And we have…Barry. And Firestorm.”

“And us,” Jax points out.

“Yeah,” Cisco says. “Exactly. That’s it.”

“At least we have an advantage over Jay,” Lisa says. “He’s a serial killer.”

“That’s an advantage?” Wally asks.

“Yeah,” Iris says. “I’m not seeing that one.”

“Don’t you guys watch Criminal Minds?”

The room’s reactions is mixed.

“I’m just saying,” Lisa says, rolling her eyes. “This Zoom guy’s been all about the ‘you and me, we’re the same’ sort of bullshit with Barry, right? With him being better, of course.”

“Jay working with him – or being him – would explain how he knows so much,” Barry says bitterly.

“Still not seeing how that helps,” Jax says.

“He saw his mom die right in front of him, yeah?” Len asks abruptly.

“So?”

“Nora didn’t die in front of Barry,” Len says. “Now, if I were a crazy psychopath –”

“Wow, now there’s a stretch,” Cisco says, rolling his eyes and smiling.

“Fuck off,” Mick says, but fondly.

“Anyway," Len says, rolling his eyes at both of them. "I’m just saying – if I was into the whole 'we're the same, you and me' playbook and, say, there was a chance to recreate my trauma –”

“You want him to – what?”

“Well, have this Jay told him about the ghosts?”

“Not exactly,” Barry hedges. “I’m sure he’s figured it out, though.”

“Damn.”

“I think I see your point,” Nora says. She's hovering at Barry's shoulder as always. “I could be very good bait.”

“Won’t work if he thinks you’re already dead. Though - that means he might go after Doc instead.”

Both Nora and Barry look alarmed. “We’re sending Dad out of the city, then,” Barry says. “Mom – that old cabin, you think he’d go?”

“He’s been wanting some fresh air and time to stretch his legs,” she agrees. “I’ll suggest it.”

She disappears.

“I can’t believe I’m used to that now,” Jax muses.

“Wait, if Jay's evil, is our Plan 'Take the Fight to Zoom' still viable?” Barry asks. “Jay knew about our plans to go to Earth-2 and confront Zoom there.”

“Thus the army,” Jax agrees.

“He might try to use the opportunity of us not being here to grab hostages, though,” Cisco says. “Like the way he took Harry’s daughter.”

“Eddie can’t go,” Iris says immediately. “And I’m not going without him.”

“But Iris –” Barry starts unwisely.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do, Barry Allen!”

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” Len says loudly before they descend into bickering. “Not like Jay saw much of Iris or Eddie, given that you and Barry were having your spat for the last few months.”

"The Barry and Iris blow-up of doom had a purpose, then?" Cisco asks. "Yeesh. Well, good, I guess?"

Both of them glare at him.

He tries to hide behind Lisa.

“Besides,” Caitlin says, jumping into the fray to rescue him. “Iris was busy with wedding planning.”

Iris groans theatrically. “Don’t remind me,” she says. “Eddie’s family is intolerable. How did I not know this?”

“Because they don’t live in Central,” Wally says. “And you didn’t have to deal with them before. Also, no offense, but wasn't evil Wells related to that family?”

"Everything is explained," Iris mutters.

“You could always just do it informally like I did,” Caitlin says.

“Everyone in both of our families would kill me,” Iris says. "Literally, I suspect."

"Besides, Caitlin, you just wanted it over quick enough that your mom wouldn't find out," Cisco teases.

"Absolutely," Caitlin says. "No shame."

Lisa snorts. "That bad, huh?"

"You know me," Caitlin says. "And my precision of language."

"Yeah?"

"My mom's a bitch with a heart colder than Len's gun."

"Girl!" Cisco says, sounding impressed. Mick wolf-whistles. Len smirks.

Lisa offers a fist-bump, which she returns with a faint smile.

Len shakes his head in amusement.

“Getting back to the whole serial killer thing, which I understand is less of a priority than Iris' wedding planning but which I'd like to spend a little time on anyway,” Jax says. “What do we do now?”

“We should get Harry,” Cisco says. “He can help with the planning.”

“I’ll get him,” Barry says. “Len, your ghosts are on the job of stopping Jay, right?”

“Yeah,” Len says. “Though they’re taking their time on it. If they’re not back in five, I’ll let you know.”

Nods around the room.

Barry speeds away.

“So, this Harry guy,” Mick says. “Anything I need to know before letting him hang around here?”

“Uh,” Cisco says. “It’s…a long story?”

“Start now,” Lisa says. “We’re listening.”

“He’s a know-it-all asshole,” Jax says.

“He’s going to be super rude,” Wally adds.

“He tried to steal Barry’s speed once,” Iris says.

“He might’ve killed a prisoner,” Caitlin says.

Len blinks. “So…he’s a villain on his Earth?”

“No! I mean…I…uh…no? I don’t think so?”

“You’ll understand when you meet him,” Cisco says.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Mick grunts. He comes over to stand by Len, an obvious warning.

"Mick," Len snaps. "Nothing's gonna happen to me."

"You had another unquiet dead attack last week," Mick replies.

"And nothing happened! I barely felt it before you guys fought it off –"

"That time," Mick says, his tone ominous.

Len glares up at him. “I’m not made of glass,” he hisses.

“And I want to keep it that way,” Mick says firmly.

Barry and Harry flash in a moment later, before Len can respond appropriately – probably with profanity. Harry looks disoriented as Barry releases him. "Sorry for the secrecy, Harry," Barry says. "It's – well, it's a long story."

"No problem," Harry says. "Who did you bring me to – Mayor Snart!"

"Wait," Len says. "Mayor?"

The next few minutes are a mess before they get Harry to calm down enough to confirm that yes, Lisa Snart is the mayor of Central City in his universe, at least in part because of a meta ability that permits her to become temporarily incorporeal and thereby immune to Zoom and his lackeys.

"Temporarily incorporeal," Len says, exchanging meaningful looks with Mick. Neither of them are particularly pleased with the idea of Lisa being a ghost.

"It's possible it's a real meta ability," Caitlin reminds them.

"I still can't believe I'm dating the alternate version of your mayor," Cisco marvels.

"Hah!" Mick exclaims, pointing at him. "Finally admitted you two're dating!"

"...crap."

"They're not going to do anything about it, they're just drama queens," Lisa assures him.

Mick mimes slicing a throat over her head.

Cisco gulps.

"Mick, stop whatever you're doing," Lisa instructs without turning around.

"The plan is to go to Earth-2 and find out everything possible about Zoom's meta army invasion, right?" Len asks Barry, because he's not an idiot. He'll wait till Cisco's alone to threaten him. "I don't see any reason to change that just because they have advance warning that that's the plan."

Barry nods. "If we can stop on Earth-2, all the better," he says firmly.

"You do remember that my sources on that earth tell me he's gathered an army," Harry says.

"Well, yes, but we're going to be sneaky about it," Barry says. "I was thinking we could swap out our doppelgangers – "

"Only if they're located somewhere that would be useful," Len says.

"…oh. Right."

"It'll be all right, Harry," Cisco says confidently. "We know what we're doing."

Harry looks skeptical.

The mental timer in Len’s head hits zero.

Len frowns. Either Rakesh or Sirina should be back by now to report on their success – or failure.

“Barry, something’s wrong with the ghosts,” Len says. “Go check up on ‘em, make sure Jay didn’t get away. Then we need to change our plans for taking the fight to Earth-2 to account for Jay knowing what he knows.”

“I’m on it,” Barry says, and disappears in a crackle of lightning.

“Ghosts? No, not important. What about Jay? Have you finally realized that the coward’s not good for anything?” Harry asks. “And what about Hunter Zolomon? Is he here?”

“Jay Garrick is Hunter Zolomon,” Caitlin says.

“What?”

“We should go back to STAR Labs,” Cisco says. “If Jay is Zoom, we have additional problems; Barry might need support.”

“Jay is Zoom?” Harry exclaims. “But – he – the Flash – but -”

“Probably for the best,” Len tells the rest of Team Flash, who all look like they’re dying to find out what’s going on. “No way movie night is going on right now.”

They go, even Lisa after Len tells her it’s okay.

Len waits until they’re all gone, then his eyes slide over to Mick. “So,” he says.

“So,” Mick replies.

“They’re all gone.”

“They are.”

“And we’re all alone.”

“We are.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a movie night without them.”

“Nope.”

"Guess we need to make other plans."

"Sure seems that way."

“So…”

Mick smiles. “I got some ideas,” he purrs.

That jewelry store was just asking to be robbed, honestly.

“Barry texted me that I’m a jerk for taking advantage of his distraction,” Len tells Mick proudly.

“Tell him we’re rekindling our relationship,” Mick replies, pulling diamonds out of the duffel bag they’d stuffed them in.

“Heh. Rekindling.”

Mick rolls his eyes.

That’s when Rakesh and Sirina show back up. Both of them. Looking somewhat shame-faced.

“Hey,” Len says, frowning at them. “You two okay?”

“We couldn’t get him,” Rakesh says. “He wasn’t solid.”

“He wasn’t solid?”

“Our hands went straight through him,” Sirina explains. “I think it’s because he’s from a different universe.”

“Well, that’s a problem,” Mick says, scowling.

“Barry will handle it,” Len says, and texts him for an update.

A few minutes later –

“Barry did not handle it,” Len says, frowning at his screen. “Apparently Zoom showed up and iced this Jay guy.”

“How’d he know we were onto him?” Mick asks.

“Not sure. Barry says they’re going to keep up with Plan A and head to Earth-2.”

Mick nods. “Still going in groups?”

“Yeah, Barry says they agree that Eddie and Iris are safe to stay, as discussed –”

“Still say it was a dick move on Barry’s part,” Mick says. “Nagging Iris to forgive her dad for, you know, lying about her mom not being dead for twenty years. Or her mom for ditching in the first place.”

“Don’t disagree, but it’s not our problem,” Len says. “Barry’s asking if we can either stay and watch the city without stealing stuff, or if we want to go with them.”

Mick blinks. “He’s asking if we want to volunteer for stupid-ass heroism and self-restraint or go to another dimension?” he asks. “Really?”

“Yeah, I know,” Len says. “Like that’s a choice.”

He texts ‘hell yes we’re coming to E2’ back to Barry.

A few hours later, everyone’s ready to go. “We’re going to each go through the breach and head out our own ways,” Barry says. He’s very bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, even more than usual; he and Iris are standing next to each other, which means they’ve made up in the face of possible danger.

Good for them.

“Cisco, Harry and I are going to go to STAR Labs to do what we can with the monitors,” Barry continues. “And to grab whatever tech Harry says might be useful. We’ll have phones, so if you need me, I’ll be there.”

“In a flash,” Len adds.

“You don’t have to say it every time,” Lisa groans.

“If he doesn’t, I will,” Iris puts in. “I named him that, Snart; next time I get dibs on the puns.”

“Anyway,” Barry says, notably not disagreeing. He loves that pun. “Jax, Firestorm, and Lisa are going to go hit the CCPD and the mayor’s office – hopefully get what info they might have. Not too much stealing, okay guys?”

“Don’t worry, Stein and I won’t let them,” Firestorm - the joint mix of Caitlin's Raymond and a crabby professor called Martin Stein - says. His head is on fire again. Mick is smiling at him again.

Len's not too fond of Firestorm.

“It’s cute that you think that’ll work,” Jax says, high-fiving Lisa.

“Guys,” Barry says.

“I’m going with Caitlin,” Wally says, since Barry seems to have been derailed. “We’ll drive around, scout the area, try to mingle a bit. Low profile, if we can.”

“Fair enough,” Len says. “And Mick and I?”

“We’d like you to come in a few hours after we’re gone,” Barry says. “With your guns, to serve as back-up for whoever’s in trouble.” He winces. “Because we assume someone will be in trouble.”

“Probably,” Mick says with a smirk.

And so they go, piling into the breach, Iris and Eddie maneuvering the machinery at Cisco’s instruction.

A few hours later, Iris and Eddie do the same for Len and Mick. They walk through a portal into a brand new world, exchanging giant grins as they go.

And then they step through, and Len freezes.

#dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #barry allen #cisco ramon #wally west #iris west #Jefferson jax jackson #lisa snart #nora allen #Caitlin snow #my fic #deadfic

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black-john-lennon-archive · 7 years

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Fic: Cooper the Human Disaster

Summary: Blaine visits Cooper in LA and finds his lifestyle a bit ridiculous.Takes place over the summer between Goodbye and The New Rachel.

A/N: Dedicated to the @todaydreambelievers podcast, @spaceorphan18 @ckerouac and @47mel47 I hoipe you guys like this fic a normal amount. Thanks @adampascalfan for being my beta.

Read and comment on AO3

As much as Blaine hates to leave Kurt in Lima after his rejection from NYADA, he can't pass up an opportunity to visit Cooper. They're trying to work on their relationship, and when Cooper mentioned the idea of Blaine spending a week or so in LA, well, Mom cried. Originally, Blaine figured it would be a good way to pass the time while waiting for Kurt's imminent departure. He offered to ask Cooper if Kurt could come to, but Kurt declined saying Blaine needed the time with his brother. So with a kiss and the promise to text everyday, Blaine boarded the flight to LA using their father's seemingly endless number of frequent flyer miles. When Cooper picks Blaine up, Blaine expects to see Cooper pull up in an obnoxiously huge gas guzzling SUV, an upgrade from the station wagon Blaine inherited. Instead, Cooper hands Blaine a handful of quarters.

"Blainey, I'm working on some real character stuff, going method for this audition I'm doing in a week." "So you pay for everything in change?" Blaine asks skeptically. "Nope. We're taking the bus. Don't worry, it's only one bus to my apartment. Come on Blainey, you've grown up in a bundle of suburban privilege. This will get you closer to the people. Real salt of the earth types." Blaine ignores it, assuming it's Cooper's normal Cooperness and follows him as they board the bus. "You know when I go to New York I probably won't be taking a car? I'm okay with public transportation." Cooper ignores him, "So kiddo, how's Kurt? I see he didn't pick out your outfit today." Blaine ignores that, "So where are you living these days? Still in West Hollywood?" "God no. WeHo is passe. I've moved to Playa Vista , real up and coming neighborhood. Rumor has it that there's a Whole Foods opening in the summer of 2015." "Oh, they finally put a Whole Foods in Lima, can you believe it?" Blaine says. "Wow, Lima's finally catching up? Anyway, it's gonna be a real swanky neighborhood when it's done. But some actor buddies and I were able to get a real deal on a condo in the area. Not far from the Marina, there's a Target about a mile away. Nice stuff." When they get off the bus, Cooper walks them through a neighborhood completely under construction. "So speaking of West Hollywood, my roommate works at a bar and they're having a little show tonight, he said he can get you in if you have a fake ID. We'll have to go to Downtown to get you one." "Coop, I have one. Kurt and I went to Scandals." "That place in the West Lima crack district? Mom let you go? She wouldn't let me near that neighborhood." "Mom may not have known. But it's not that bad. I walked home and only one guy offered me a hit off his crack pipe." "What? Little brother you lied to Mom?" Cooper teases, ruffling Blaine's hair as he lets them into his building. He waves at the doorman. When they get to the door, Blaine's jaw drops as he takes in luxurious and spacious floor plan. "Coop, how much is your rent here?" "My portion? About $700. That's my room, lets put your stuff away." He leads Blaine into his bedroom. He opens the door and sees 3 Ikea twin bunk beds. "Uh Coop?" "What's up Squirt?" "Am I sleeping on the couch?" "Couch is taken", Cooper says, taking Blaine's bag and sitting it on the floor. Blaine opens the other bathroom door and sees three more bunk beds. "So... where am I sleeping exactly?" "It'll be just like old times when you'd have a nightmare and you'd curl up next to your big brother." "Oh no no no no no. Nope. Absolutely not." "Like you've never shared a bed with a guy-" Blaine holds his hand up shaking his head. "Cooper, exactly how many people live here?" "Counting the guy renting the couch? 7." "Cooper? You guys have one bathroom!" "We have a strict bathroom schedule. I shower and poop at the gym." "Coop, what?" Blaine pinches his nose and sighs. "Cooper, why were you on the bus, really?" "I told you little brother-" "The real reason." "My car ran out of gas, so I just left it where it was parked. And it was street cleaning and so it got towed. I don't have the cash to get it out of impound." "Does Mom or Dad know any of this?" "You know how your father is." "Oh he's my Father now?" "Biologically yes." "Don't change the subject. Why can't you get a normal apartment?" "Because it's all about the zip code. When I was in the 90034 zip code I was not getting the auditions I deserve. Now? I'm getting everything. I'm gonna be on Modern Family! I auditioned for a top secret CW project. I could be a superhero!" "And you think your zip code is the reason? This is ridiculous, even for you!" Blaine says pulling out his phone. "Blaine, what are you doing?" "I'm calling Mom to talk some sense into you and to get permission to use my emergency credit card to get a hotel room and for her to send you money to either get your car out of impound or renew your AAA so that you can get a rental. Jesus Cooper, this is a nightmare. So many people cramped into one apartment! What if you bring a girl home, what do you even do?" "I only date girls who live alone." Blaine starts to speak but thinks otherwise, finally pressing the call button. "Mom, yes I made it in safely. I need to talk to you... yes about Cooper... we're getting along fine... I mean we were... Mom you would not believe..." After a long skype session with their Mom, Cooper and Blaine take a cab back towards LAX to pick up a rental and get their hotel room. "I can't believe you told on me." Cooper says later that night as they lie in their pajamas in their individual full size hotel beds. "I can't believe you're on food stamps. And all so you can live in a cramped apartment with 6 other guys." "New York's not cheap Blainey, you're not going to find the perfect walk up in Chelsea for you and Kurt that will be perfectly affordable. You may have to make the same sacrifice." Blaine sighs. "I don't know. Maybe we'll be dorm mates, since Kurt's waiting for me to go to New York, we'll be in the same year of college. Maybe we'll get lucky." "Kurt's waiting for you? In Lima?" Cooper asks, skeptical look on his face. "I told you he's going to take his GE's at Lima Community College and transfer to NYADA after I graduate. It's better this way. He won't be alone in NY and I won't be alone in Lima." "Blainey, I am saying this from a place of brotherly love because I know more than you. Kurt will not stay in Lima any longer than he has to. And you shouldn't let him. That place will suck the talent right out of you. It will kill his soul." Blaine nods. "Like that? That's how I talked the guys out of giving up their three bedroom in Mar Vista to get the place in Playa. It's convincing right? I didn't even have to point." Blaine throws a pillow at him.

#kay writes things #c: you are my sunshine #Blaine fic #Anderbros fic #Glee fic #Blaine Anderson #Cooper Anderson

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pinknerdpanda · 7 years

Text

All That You Are

Inspired by/featuring the pre-chorus of Tenerife Sea by Ed Sheeran (lyrics bolded) Listen here.

Characters: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean

Word Count: 1915ish

Warnings: A.N.G.S.T. with a side of angst. With like…a drizzle of fluff maybe. Also, drinking, depression, allusions to sex.

A/N: This is my second fanfiction. Seriously…this wouldn’t be happening without @wheresthekillswitch who edited and beta’d it. It has been a labor of love. :) Thanks sweetness!! Also, the Gif (x) is not mine.

Feedback is so appreciated! Hope you enjoy! :)

The day had started out perfectly normal. A cup of coffee, a hot shower, a bowl of Lucky Charms, and you were ready to face the day. You hadn’t even batted an eyelash when you heard your ringtone sound, until you pulled your phone from the back pocket of your favorite jeans to check the caller ID. Sam. As those three tiny letters flash on your screen, your world comes to a screeching halt.

The memory of your brief time together comes crashing into you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. Not knowing if any portion of your feelings had been reciprocated, or if you had just been a temporary fix for a broken man has haunted you. You’d known within the first week that you would love him forever, a truth that still burns to the very depths of your soul.

The sound of the phone ringing in your hand grows distant as your mind wanders back to all the times you’ve sat alone, thumb poised, ready to tap his entry in your contacts list. It happens more than you like to admit, each time it does you chicken out at the last moment and spend days cursing yourself for your cowardice.

Other days, you stare at the blank screen, willing it to ring, desperately yearning to see his number on the display. Those days are your hardest, the void in your chest threatens to envelop your entire existence with each passing second of silence, usually they end in a deluge of tears, rum and self-loathing.

Before you knew it, the days of silence had stretched into weeks; the weeks into months; the months into years…until today. You have your reasons for the silence, and you know Sam has his own. Why now?

The sudden absence of sound brings you out of your thoughts. It must have gone to voicemail. Shit.

Before you can contemplate your next move, your phone starts ringing again.

It takes three gulped mouthfuls of air before you’re able to answer his call “Sam?” You silently scold yourself for how pathetic your voice sounds in your own ears.

There’s a brief hesitation before the rich timbre of his voice fills the receiver. “I…I wasn’t even sure you would answer…” Sam trails off and the silence quickly becomes deafening.

“How…” you both begin at the same time. An uncomfortable chuckle escapes your throat.

“You first,” you offer, hoping to gain some extra time to steel your nerves.

His hesitation is palpable. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” you lie.

“Me too.” His tone tells you he’s lying just as much as you are.

“Y/n,” Sam breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I need to see you. Today.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as your thoughts flip between anger and bitterness before settling firmly on anger, your cheeks fill with heat and you snap. “Are you serious? You are un-fucking-believable, Sam Winchester.” Your tone is harsh, but you’re past caring. “It’s been two years, Sam. Two. Years. And now what? You think you can pull my chain and I will come running?” Up until now you’d been too furious to cry, but now when you hear the choked breath on the other end of the line, you aren’t able to push the tears back.

“I know.” His voice is thick with raw emotion. “I have no right, I know that. But please,” he hesitates. “I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice.”

“What?” You shake yourself, trying to wrap your brain around his sudden desperation. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry.” Sam takes a deep breath. “I am so sorry. I can’t explain right now, but I will. I promise. Please, y/n, it has to be today.”

———–

It’s 1:00. That’s what he’d said - 1:00. Sharp. And yet he’s nowhere to be found. You can’t recall him ever being late. Instantly your thoughts are plagued with a multitude of catastrophes that might be responsible for holding him up. You pinch the bridge of your nose and clamp your eyes shut, in an attempt to physically push away the onslaught of anxiety. Come on Sam.

Closing your eyes only makes you picture his face. He was fucking gorgeous, but you’d been drawn to more than his looks that first night. He had been a shell of a man; his brother had just died and he was a wreck. Your desire to relieve his pain mixed with the alcohol you’d consumed made the answer to his question a no-brainer - of course you wanted to go home with him.

It had been a passionate dalliance. Not only was Sam incredibly kind and loving and intelligent. He was somewhat mysterious, but you never pushed him. Never pressured him into sharing the secrets you knew he was holding back.

But then, just two months later, just as abruptly as Sam Winchester had walked into your life, he’d walked right back out. A hastily scrawled note and an empty dresser had been the closest thing to closure you’d had in two years.

You tap your right leg impatiently as you scan the cramped diner for the thousandth time, but come up empty again. Nervously, you check your phone. No missed calls, no texts. 1:08.

You drum your fingers against the table in time with the racing of her heart. Why did I even agree to meet him at all? Your mind whirls in a myriad of thoughts, none of which are helping to ease the lump in the pit of your gut. Fuck it.

Your hands fly to your phone, fingers fumbling to pull up his number just as the bell over the front door chimes. You snap your head toward the noise and freeze. Sam. His hulking frame overwhelms the small entryway, his eyes quickly scan the room before meeting yours. His hair is longer and his neck is thicker, more muscular. Otherwise he looks exactly the same to you, down to the plaid button-up, jeans and boots.

Sam’s long strides close the distance between you before you’ve fully risen to your feet. Without hesitation, Sam’s massive arms wrap stiffly around you, engulfing you in his embrace. Tentatively, your arms encircle his waist and relief washes over you. You feel the tension in his body slowly melt away.

You want to pull back and look up into his face, hoping to find the answers to two years worth of questions somewhere in those brilliant hazel eyes. Instead, you just stand there, hanging onto him as if you’re a drowning woman and he’s your lifeboat. After what feels like an eternity, you start to release your grip only to realize that he’s holding on just as desperately.

This man had broken - no, decimated your heart. You’d practiced everything you wanted to say to him in the hours following his call this morning. However, every tortuous word you’d scripted falls from your memory when you feel the silent shudder that courses through his body. You feel people staring, but you don’t care.

Sam takes a ragged deep breath before he lets go. He smiles sadly as he rubs the palm of one hand over his tear-streaked cheeks. You both sit and you stare at him, speechless. He meets your gaze and you see a weight you’d never noticed before. You examine him carefully and realize that this is nowhere near the same man you’ve mourned the last two years.

The man in front of you now wears a different kind of pain. There’s a sag in his shoulders and his eyes hold a determined resignation that you can’t quite place. Whatever this is about, you have a feeling it’s not going to be pretty.

“Sorry I was late,” he says, finally breaking the silence.

“I started to worry,” you say hollowly. “I got here 10 minutes early expecting you’d be here already. I’m glad you’re ok.” He nearly smiles at that.

“Y/n…look…there aren’t words to express how wrong I was.” His sudden candor makes you blink. “I just need you to know that I have loved you more deeply these last two years than I can even comprehend.” He pauses, and you open your mouth to speak, but finding no response there, quickly shut it. “I could sit here and give you the lists of things I wanted - needed to do since the day I left, and every truly valid excuse for having not done them, but that wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t even begin to ease the agony I have caused you, and for that, I could not be more ashamed.”

“Sam, I…” He holds up his hand, and you fall silent.

“I am so sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. Please let me get through this…I don’t have much time.” He checks his watch and grimaces before continuing. “There are so many things about me that you don’t know. And in a way I am grateful for that. But I need you to know that when I was at my lowest, you picked me up and put me back together,” he pauses lost in thought while tears burn at the backs of your eyes. You listen in disbelief as he angrily shakes his head and continues. “And how did I repay you? By fucking up your life…twice. The first time by leaving and the second time now by coming back.” He sighs. “I was trying to protect you. I stayed away to keep you safe. I will never forgive myself, but I know I did the right thing. You’re safe and after tomorrow, I can guarantee you won’t have anything to fear again.”

“What the fuck are are even saying? Keep me safe? What is happening tomorrow? Why are you telling me thi…” Your words are cut off by the firm press of his lips against your own. Your tongues dance hungrily over each other, as all the unspoken words, feelings and pain of the last two years seem to vanish. He pulls back breathless, his large hands still gently hold the sides of your head, your lips just a fraction of space apart.

“Y/n.” He breathes your name, and it’s a whisper against your lips. “If this should be the last thing I see, I want you to know it’s enough for me. All that you are is all that I’ll ever need.” Sam’s hazel eyes drill into your own with absolute sincerity.

“Sam,” a deep but gentle voice startles you both. You look up to see a tall man, his emerald eyes are filled with regret. “I’m sorry, we need to go. Detroit is still two hours away.” Sam nods slowly.

“Ok, Dean. I’ll be right out.” Sam exhales. As you watch the man exit the diner and climb into the driver’s side of a shiny black Impala, a troubling thought fills your head.

“Wait…your brother, Dean?”

Unexpectedly, Sam’s lips are on yours again, his mouth a hard press of urgency and need. His hands fist in the back of your hair as his tongue grazes your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth, drawing a moan from deep within you. He breaks the kiss and stands. “I love you, y/n. Thank you.”

Without another word, he walks out the door, climbing into the passenger’s side seat of the Impala. Gravel dances through the air as they back out of the parking lot and they head toward Detroit.

You’ve just heard the exact words from him that you’ve been longing for, but never expected to hear. Yet here you sit alone, watching the taillights fade into the distance. He loves me?

Requested Tags:

@arryn-nyxx

tagging from mrswhozeewhatsis tag list :) (let me know if you don’t want to be tagged)

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#supernatural #spn #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn family #sam winchester #sam x reader #sam angst #all that you are #newbie #sammy winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #tenerife sea by ed sheeran #panda writes

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waveswordswhispers · 7 years

Text

A Terrible Neighbour

HI HI HI I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING GONE FOR SO LONG!!! I know I promised smut but I wanted to get this out first! Merry late Christmas and a Happy New Year @senren, @fairyfairypie, @yolkygoblin, @seitsuya, and @soukoku-writes!!!

:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

Dazai Osamu was the worst neighbour in the world and anyone who said otherwise was blessed to never have met him.

:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

Chuuya was going to kill his neighbour.

For gods sake it was only November second and he could hear the Christmas music blasting already. What an animal.

It wasn't like he hated Christmas, on the contrary, he loved it but for God's sake, there wasn't even snow on the ground yet.

"WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS, WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS, WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Chuuya shattered the glass in his hand.

Again, no complaints about the carolling but it wasn't even December, it was loud and full offence to his neighbour, he had a terrible singing voice.

"GOOD TIDINGS WE BRING TO YOU AND YOUR KIN, GOOD TIDINGS FOR CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

"SHUT UP!" Chuuya yelled, throwing his door open.

"HI!" his neighbour yelled back, tangled in lights. "Mind helping?" Chuuya's eye twitched.

He was disrupting the neighbourhood and he had the nerve to ask for help.

"GO DIE! AND SHUT UP!"

:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

In hindsight, Chuuya should have known that his neighbour would not just simply stop at singing at the top of his lungs during the day. He'd only moved in a month ago and his neighbour was nothing short of insane.

A week later, his point proven as he stared in horror at the flashing light show sprawled out across his neighbour's lawn, not including the lights plastered onto the house. Chuuya briefly wondered how Dazai had somehow managed to paste that many lights onto his house without killing himself since Dazai seemed to always be getting into accidents before remembering his current predicament.

His neighbour had chosen exactly when Chuuya was drifting off into sleep to blind him with the thousands of bright lights. So not only was his neighbour an asshole, he was obnoxious as well.

"OSAMU DAZAI I WILL FRY YOUR POWER SOURCE IF YOU DO NOT TURN YOUR FUCKING LIGHTS OFF!" Chuuya heard another neighbour screech and was eternally grateful for Yosano Akiko's terrifying personality for once as the lights plastered onto the house clicked off.

"Yosano-san, it looks good though!" Dazai protested.

"I DON'T CARE IF IT LOOKS LIKE A MASTERPIECE OR A DOG TURD, IT'S STILL TOO BRIGHT!"

"Chuuyaaaaaa," Dazai whined. "Help meeeee."

Chuuya flipped him the bird before waving the shears he had grabbed on the way out.

"YES, CUT THE ELECTRICAL CHORD PLEASE!" Yosano encouraged from across the street, her usually immaculate hair in a mess. "ALSO RUN HIM OVER WITH THAT NICE CAR OF YOURS WHILE YOU'RE AT IT!"

The lights blinked off for a moment and Chuuya could hear Yosano sigh in relief before they came back at full force, even more on this time.

Yosano's frustrated scream split the air and Chuuya was grabbing his car keys.

:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

To be honest, Chuuya was willing to move again if it got him away from the one and only pain in the ass Dazai Osamu but he just didn't have the funds.

He had the motivation.

He was pretty sure no one was RUDE enough to use a snow blower loud enough to wake the dead at four in the morning.

Then again, this was Dazai.

Professional asshole and annoyance extraordinaire.

"TURN THAT DAMN THING OFF!" Chuuya screamed out the window and Dazai shut off his snow blower for a moment, grinning up at Chuuya. "WHY ARE YOU EVEN DOING IT AT FOUR IN THE MORNING?"

"Practical!"

"NO IT'S NOT! YOU'RE BEING A BASTARD! LITERALLY NO ONE IS GETTING SLEEP!" Dazai snickered, leaning against his snow blower.

"You see anyone else complaining?" he teased and Chuuya reached down to snatch some snow from his windowsill, balling it into a snowball and nailing Dazai in the face.

Dazai wiped the snow off of his face, bending over before quickly making his own, three snowballs sailing towards Chuuya within seconds.

Chuuya let out an enraged shriek, one snowball completely missing him and smashing into the wall beside his head, one zipping past his face into his house and the third smashing into his chest, ruining his perfectly good pyjamas.

That was it.

They were pyjamas from France gifted by Kouyou-nee.

Dazai was screwed.

Chuuya grabbed his coat and mittens, storming out the door.

He might not have been able to even reach Dazai's chin but he was an absolute terror when it came to snowball fights.

Game on.

Dazai snickered loudly, pretending to fall over in fright when Chuuya put on his mittens.

"Oh my, I'm so-HEY CHIBI, WAIT, WAIT!" Chuuya promptly shoved snow down Dazai's back, listening to satisfying scream Dazai uttered.

:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

"How the fuck are going to fit that into your house?" Chuuya snarled, wondering how Dazai was an actual detective in the police force.

First of all, he was incredibly dense at times.

Second of all, he just made really, really dumb choices.

Such as bringing home a real like tree for Christmas that stood taller than Dazai's ceiling.

"You're going to help!"

"You're going to ruin your ceiling," Chuuya deadpanned. "And your door. Maybe a couple of decorations. Who knows, with your track record."

Dazai pouted.

"You're so mean."

"I'm just stating the truth."

"You're not helping?"

Chuuya snorted and went back inside.

Bad choice.

Extremely bad choice.

His car alarm started blaring not ten minutes later and he sprinted back out only to find Dazai's stupid Christmas tree crushing his car.

"Uhhhh," Dazai laughed. "I hope you have insurance!"

Chuuya regretted not taking Yosano's advice with running over Dazai with his car three weeks earlier.

:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

"Kunikida-san!" he shouted hastily into his phone.

"Ah, Chuuya-san," Kunikida responded slowly. "What has Dazai done this time?"

"If the shitty bastard gives you a present, what do I do?"

"Burn it. Trash it. Or don't even touch it at all," Kunikida advised and Chuuya shrank away from the present that had suddenly appeared under his own Christmas tree.

"HOW DID HE GET INTO MY HOUSE IN THE FIRST PLACE?" Chuuya did not remember ever giving Dazai a key. Or his password to bypass the alarms.

To do that would mean the end of the world.

"Chuuya-san," Kunikida said patiently. "I think you need to get a better security system."

"That's breaking and entering, it's against the law!"

Kunikida snorted.

"If we honestly had Dazai arrested and jailed every time he broke the law, we would never see him again," he pointed and Chuuya rolled his eyes.

As he thanked Kunikida and placed his phone down, it rang again.

"Chuuya h-" he started.

"CHUUYA~" Dazai yelled excitedly.

"I'm hanging up," Chuuya growled, cursing himself for not checking the caller ID before picking up the phone.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

"I'd say you too but I don't wish anything merry on you," Chuuya shot back.

"Awwww, did you open the present?"

"Nope," Chuuya chirped. "Not planning to."

"I promise it's nothing bad!"

"I don't trust a word that comes out of your mouth," Chuuya muttered dryly but he was already reaching for the present, bracing himself for something. He unwrapped it gingerly and opened the box, eyes widening in surprise.

"A hat?" he asked softly.

"Yeah!" Chuuya was about to thank him because it was actually pretty nice before Dazai blustered on. "I noticed your obsession with ugly hats so-"

Click.

Chuuya hung up on Dazai, letting out a frustrated groan.

Terrible, terrible neighbour.

:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:

"Chuuya!" Dazai shouted and Chuuya jumped, screaming as he beat at Dazai with a pillow. The power had gone out right after Christmas and Chuuya was trying to stay warm.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?" Chuuya screeched, kicking Dazai in the groin.

"Just wanted to be a good neighbour and check to see if you had frozen to death-" Chuuya cut him with another kick.

"GET OUT!"

"I was trying to be a good-"

"YOU'RE A TERRIBLE NEIGHBOUR, AT LEAST KNOCK!" Dazai huffed grabbing Chuuya's blanket and effectively wrapped Chuuya up, preventing Chuuya from inflicting any more damage.

"For someone with such short legs," Dazai mused, ignoring Chuuya's loud cursing. "You kick pretty hard."

"LET ME GO AND I'LL SHOW YOU JUST HOW HARD I CAN KICK!"

"Hey Chuuya," Dazai suddenly leaned forward, grinning. "Do you have anyone to spend the New Years with?"

Chuuya grinded his teeth, glaring at Dazai.

"Well, I was going to drive to Kouyou-nee's place for Christmas and the New Years but someone crushed my car with their stupid pine tree they did not even use afterwards." Dazai laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Technically it is being used." Chuuya gave him a blank note and Dazai elaborated. "As firewood." Chuuya let his head fall back with a tired sigh.

He couldn't deal with this guy.

"No," he finally answered. "I don't have anyone to spend the New Years with."

"Great, me too! I'll come over right before midnight and we can-" Chuuya wriggled out of the blanket sausage and slapped Dazai with another pillow.

"Hold, hold, hold," he put his hand up when Dazai quieted down. "You don't just invite yourself over to someone's house." Dazai sat down, forehead creasing. "Where are your manners?"

Dazai smirked. "Can't be bothered to find or use them."

"Jesus Christ-"

"But can we please spend New Years together?" Chuuya blinked in shock.

He hadn't really expected Dazai to say please and to think about it, he really didn't want to spend New Years alone.

"Okay fine," he relented and Dazai clapped his hands cheerfully, springing up to hug and infuriatingly, lift him up and spin Chuuya around like he was a goddam girl. "BUT!"

"And there's always a but," Dazai deflated, dropping Chuuya.

"I pick the alcohol and you do not do anything fishy."

Dazai nodded, grinning slyly up at Chuuya.

"Alright."

Chuuya felt like he had made on the biggest mistakes in his life.

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"You're not a lightweight, aren't you?" Dazai inquired as they sat in front of the tv, power thankfully restored.

"I ammmm," Chuuya slurred, leaning forward. "But it's a secreeeect allllright?" Dazai chuckled.

"Alright chibi."

"I'm drunnk, not deafffff."

"Countdown is starting!" Dazai directed Chuuya's attention away from him and Chuuya started jumping up and down.

"Ten! Nine! Eight! Join meeee!" he chanted and Dazai stood up as well, shaking his head.

"You're such a child," he murmured fondly under his breath. "Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"

As the fireworks erupted on the screen, Chuuya spun around, red hair falling into his face as he reached for Dazai. Dazai froze and his eyes widened as Chuuya leaned forward, kissing Dazai firmly.

Chuuya tasted like the pizza they'd eaten earlier and the wine they'd been drinking during the night.

"Happy New Year, Dazai," Chuuya whispered. "Shitty bastard," he added as an afterthought.

Dazai gaped at him and Chuuya touched his face almost tenderly before collapsing into Dazai's arm.

"Oi!" Dazai exclaimed. "Chibi! Hatrack!" Soft snores floated up to Dazai's ears and he grinned.

"Trust you to fall asleep."

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The blaring of a horn woke Chuuya up the next day.

"IT'S THE NEW YEAR, EVERYONE UP, UP AND ABOUT!" Chuuya would have screamed back if it weren't for the pounding headache that signalled a monstrous hangover. Adding more noise to the racket didn't seem like such a good idea. It sounded like Dazai was using a microphone which explained why his obnoxious voice was louder than usual.

Chuuya poked his head out from under his covers, strange he didn't remember getting under them and squinted at the brightness.

"IT'S A NEW START, TIME TO BEGIN ANEW AND START TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH YOUR RESOLUTIONS WHICH YOU WILL ULTIMATELY LET GO!'

Chuuya needed to think but Dazai was not helping.

He caught sight of a glass of water on his bed side table with some aspirin accompanying it.

A note read:

I figured you wouldn't be able to function this morning so this should help.

Chuuya huffed.

It looked like Dazai wasn't all that bad.

Then he flipped to the back.

You should work on your kissing, it's not bad but I've had better.

He took that back.

Dazai was terrible.

Wait.

He had kissed Dazai?

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU SO HAPPY?" Yosano complained.

"CHUUYA KISSED ME LAST NIGHT!" Dazai replied gleefully.

There was complete silence for a moment as Chuuya processed what Dazai had just screamed out to the neighbourhood.

Shit.

"I THOUGHT YOU HAD BETTER JUDGMENT!" he heard Kunkida yell.

"YOUR TASTE IN MEN AREN'T HALF BAD NAKAHARA BUT WHY HIM?" Yosano shouted.

Chuuya buried his head under the pillow and wished for the world to end.

#osamu dazai #dachuu #nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs #soukoku #ahahaha im so sorry #this is so late #omg omg #ahhhhhhh #but here's something #and I'm happy with it!#fluff #kissing #I PROMISE I WILL TRY TO WRITE MORE #whisper writes

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