#2 more cents to finish my train of thought
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[CN] MLQC Lucien's Through Thousands of Mirrors event translation (Day 1 -Thursday)
⚠️ SPOILER ALERT ⚠️
This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the event that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~
Through Thousands of Mirrors Event | Day 1 (You're here!) | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | HS/Uni SSR Story: Monochrome Scenery
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[Tidbits: I don't wanna break the flow so I'll put some information here first 😂. Dr. Lawson is Lucien's post-grad professor. Before, he also appears in UR MQ Distant Similarity. During his post-grad he has three seniors Colt, Elliot, and Caroline.]
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[Math]
Seeing the particularly puzzled expression on the classmate next to him, Lucien starts to consider whether he should offer some assistance within his capabilities.
For instance, he thinks about telling the classmate that the topic currently being discussed on the blackboard is not from the same chapter as the one in the textbook he's currently reading.
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[MATH/BIOCHEMISTRY]
After the vending machine devours Lucien's one dollar and twenty-five cents for the third time, and with only three minutes left to get to his next class, he begins to seriously contemplate whether he should try some mysterious repair method—like giving it a good smack or a swift kick.
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[BIOCHEMISTRY]
Lucien coincidentally runs into Colt by the sports field, just as Colt is about to attend a cricket practice session.
Upon realizing that his senior from the lab is not only managing coursework and a significant project workload but also juggling a 20-hour weekly part-time job and daily school cricket team training, Lucien begins to contemplate whether there is any room for further optimization in his own schedule.
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[PREVIEW/COMPUTER SCIENCE]
During the brief half-hour period, Lucien typically uses the time to prepare for the upcoming class or visit the library to research and gather information.
In any case, that time should not be spent on arguing and explaining to people, like the enthusiastic campus volunteer in front of him.
"No, thank you. I'm not a high school student attending a summer camp. This is my student ID, and I'm indeed a student here, a graduate student. Yes, I'm not lost, and I need to get to my class. Can you please let me go?"
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[COMPUTER SCIENCE]
Lucien presses the enter key, intending to ask the teacher if he can leave early once his coursework is done. However, the error message on the screen deters him from that thought. So, he sits back down and begins to examine it again.
But that's okay, he does understand the commonality between computer science and experimental research: it's often hard to know right away if the thing at hand will work, why it's not working, or even why it's even working.
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[LAB]
Come on, come on, come on. After moving this box, there's another.
And after moving that box, there are three more to go.
The prospects for the future and the shine in one's eyes are often taken away by the God of research in such necessary yet mechanical repetitive work.
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[LAB]
Lucien goes out to get some water and returns to find a school burger on his desk.
Colt, with dark circles under his eyes, waves at Lucien and saying, "No need to thank me, newcomer. Have some food, we might be staying here today."
Lucien quietly eats the burger, hesitant to tell Colt that he has spent more time in the laboratory than in the dorm.
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[LAB]
When Dr. Lawson enters the laboratory, what he sees is a scene where his graduate and doctoral students are sleeping and sprawled all over the place.
On the laboratory whiteboard, several words were written in large letters: "Publish immediately! Guaranteed to be published in Nature!!"
Dr. Lawson retrieves small blankets from the cabinet, covering each of these research madmen.
He proceeds to organize the data and take over the finishing work on the project. Of course, when it comes to authorship in the paper, not a single one of these kids' names can be left out.
#OK BUT this whole event and story kinda explain why he has a some attachment to Dr. Lawson 🥺#mlqc lucien#mr love queen's choice#mlqc cn#mlqc spoiler#mlqc#mlqc translation#mr. love queen's choice#mr love lucien#mlqc xu mo#mlqc spoilers
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Ok so (Bayonetta 3 Spoiler Warning)
So I originally had a super long thing written but I’m condensing it here. I want to state first that I have: 1. Always seen Bayonetta as bisexual and 2. I have played both games (multiple times) and have been in the fandom for awhile now, so I’m not speaking out of my ass. I also should state that I am not yet finished with the game but I am well aware of what happens in the end. So here we go:
1. The Luka thing: I don’t like that Bayo is with Luka. They have always felt like a platonic flirting kinda pairing and not a genuine partnered up pairing. I find the pairing hard to believe because their interactions are nowhere near as strong as they should be if they want me to believe that they make a good couple. Bayonetta does not need a man (or even a romantic partner, let’s be real) to be as amazing and strong and sexy as she is. I don’t think her being paired with Luka necessarily ruins her character, but I do think if they keep going with this they’re going to dilute the hell out of her. My primary problem doesn't lie with the fact that she’s with a man because I’m a Bayojeanne fan, it lies with the fact that it’s with Luka.
2. The Jeanne thing: Egyptian Bayo and Jeanne are definitely a thing, let’s be real. It’s important to note that this version of Bayonetta in the multiverse is young Cereza from the first game as opposed to the Bayonetta from the past 2 games. The subtext for Bayojeanne is very, very strong in the second game and definitely exists in the first. Kamiya knows it’s a popular as hell pairing. Now, I love this ship. I know a lot of people do. I think it’s possible we will see more of it in the future.
3. The death thing: what the fuck
With those things being said I don’t think outright, main universe Bayojeanne was going to happen this game. I don’t think this is some homophobic plot from Platinum/Nintendo, I just don’t. But I don’t think it was in the cards this time. I’m not going to jump on the train and call this queerbaiting, either. I don’t think it’s fair to call it that yet, since the game is 1. Heavily implied to have DLC and 2. The series isn’t over yet. I also think the term queerbaiting gets thrown around a little too liberally nowadays, but if you feel that term works then alright.
Just my two cents, not trying to start arguments or anything. May make a longer, more thought out post after I’m done with the game.
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Ghost - Impera
I should have done this months ago. I mean this album is over a year old now, but better late than never. I don't really feel a need to get too deep into the details on this album; it's been out for 15 months and has been discussed extensively. It feels weird to be writing about an album this late in the game. This isn't meant to relitigate old discourse about it that's basically finished at this point, I basically just want to add my two cents about why I feel the way I do about it and why I still want to talk about it. But anyway...
It was no accident that Impera, came at the end of the longest gap between full-length releases for the Ghost, specifically well after the COVID-19 pandemic took its stranglehold off live music. The band was on a holistically upward trajectory for the past decade, bigger sales, bigger sound, and, critically, bigger crowds. 2015's grand Meliora was already such a practically unrecognizable size-up from the spooky retro rock of their debut just 5 years earlier, and the band made their aspirations clear with each release LP and EP afterwards. Popestar introduced for the first time in the band's self-aware campy lore a new frontman not tethered to the mic stand by the excessive garments of the satanic pope, but rather youthful, limber, and lively, more mobile and able to herd and rally the band's increasingly larger crowds. And the subsequent full-length, Prequelle, committed to this new turn fully. If you thought Opus Eponymous was too silly and over-the-top, then you weren't prepared for the full-on arena rock parade that was Prequelle. Prequelle was and still is the campiest album Ghost has ever released. The band was fully aware, and it was on purpose. Soaring group choruses, lighter-waving power ballads, swinging dance numbers, sax solos. Ghost were making a B-line for the arenas, with the big songs to handle the crowds of those magnitudes. And it worked; it worked because Ghost's songwriting masterminds put in the work.
Pop songwriting is both easy and hard. The tried and true format is and simpler is usually better. It's not rocket science. The challenge, however, is not just writing a pop song, it's writing a great pop song. And Ghost applied a perfectionist approach to chiseling out killer hooks and sing-along melodies from the brilliantly simple fun arena rock anthems of Prequelle, and the results spoke for themselves. And then 2 years later it all stopped.
It stopped for everyone. And going off their consistent release schedule up to that point, Ghost probably would have had the follow-up to Prequelle out a year earlier, but there was no way they were going to put out an album in the height of the pandemic because Impera was absolutely made for the stadiums. When the touring industry rebooted and Impera dropped a year later though, it was clear that Ghost had made the most of their indoor time.
A natural continuation from and combination of the previous two albums, Impera harnessed the grandeur and bombast of Meliora and the infectious campy fun of Prequelle into the most arena-ready batch of songs the band has ever put forward. I got the sense that this album completely achieved Ghost's artistic goal that they've been building toward for the past 10+ years, and by the end of the year, with my numerous replays of it, I couldn't help but concede that Ghost had outdone themselves. Impera is their best work. Ironic that the band reaching a new summit would be with an album about the precarious rise and fall of empires.
Hard to say now if that theme foreshadows a fall from grace for Ghost, obviously I hope not. For as much as they play into their gimmicky image, Ghost are not in danger of losing their throne due to fans tiring of their goofy novelty. No, the image is the icing on top of the solid compositional foundation and not the other way around. It will take actual creative fatigue, a major misstep, or series of missteps to derail the Ghost train. Not to say a band nosediving from their peak isn't a tale at least as old as Metallica, but maybe that's why Ghost picked the theme for their magnum opus, to remind themselves to not go the way of the Roman empire, or Coldplay. And hey, it's not like anyone would say no to the job security of a career like Metallica's or Coldplay's either, however undeserved it may be. But more likely is that the lyrical content was inspired by the present moment. I don't think anyone would argue against the current times being historic to say the least.
I won't get into it too deeply because it's really not that complicated, but also I could spend a gratuitous amount of time going into every detail of why each song is so great. Impera really is the sum of a great many little details that show how much time and care was put into making every song complete on its own and within the context of the rest of the album. The whole album is a cohesive, fun, glorious exhibition of everything Ghost, and they made that clear from the soaring high note that Tobias Forge opens "Kaisarion" with. And like Prequelle, Impera runs the gamut of chugging metallic heaviness like on "Watcher in the Sky" to the soulful ballads and power ballads of "Darkness at the Heart of My Love" and "Respite on the Spitalfields", following a similar flow to the previous album that works as well here. Also, Prequelle may be the campiest album Ghost has ever released, but "Twenties" is definitely the most over-the-top cheesiest campiest theatrical-ist song the band has ever made, too cheesy for some fans even. Personally, I'm here for it, and I can't imagine being surprised by it either; I mean it's Ghost, a cartoonish horn section over chugging heavy metal grooves and comic book villain vocals isn't that giant of a step up from the corniness of "Kiss the Go-Goat", "Ghuleh / Zombie Queen", "Rats", or "Dance Macabre". The other singles, the marching "Hunter's Moon" and the snare-driven rhythmic "Call Me Little Sunshine", are also textbook arena rockers, and I personally love the throwback to the more retro staccato keyboard motifs of Opus Eponymous on "Griftwood".
I played the shit out of Impera all of last summer and I'll probably play it again this summer, it's that fun. Like I said, Ghost have topped themselves, and every band that reaches what feels like their likely peak has that existential crisis of where to go from there if the only way to go is down. A lot of bands, either due to the pressure of future expectations or not knowing what to do next, make a big leap of faith into the unknown. Or they try in vain to replicate the lightning in the bottle that propelled them to the top over the course of the rest of their comparatively stale career. Ghost may not have anywhere higher to climb on the mountain they've chosen to ascend, but I think they can maintain a longevity at this elite level if they maintain the focus on meticulous song-writing while ensuring not to fall into the trap of formulaicness. Like I said, Ghost is not built on the satanic pope outfits or the Papa Emeritus lore or on the anonymity they started with that the lawsuit from former members eliminated. Ghost is built on the song-craft, and that doesn't wear out. The question now is, will Ghost wear out or get lazy, or do they have the stamina to keep up this level of attention-to-detail and dominate another decade? I certainly hope they can muster the latter. Here's to another decade of Ghost, in the twenties!!!
Also yes, this was my favorite album of the year last year.
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It kind of sucks to say that another band's bad album is partially what lit the fire under my ass to write this because it kind of implicitly takes away from the excellent work Ghost does, but a big part of why I'm writing this now is indeed because of the band that all the big online magazines that shill for major labels are hailing as the next Ghost this year: Sleep Token.
I already made my gripes with that band's latest album known in detail in a previous post about that album, but in short, I really don't like the push I've been seeing from a lot publications for this groveling adoption of the most fleeting of pop trends into metal in what feels like desperation for broader cultural prominence. There's nothing "innovative" or "forward-thinking" or "more mature" about whoring out to the whim of trends calculated to appeal to the lowest common denominator in a bid for a shortcut to relevance. I don't mind when bands incorporate pop elements into their sound to spice it up or even writing a more straight-up pop song; like I said, pop songwriting is a challenging art, and that's part of what Ghost does so well, and what many bands who metalheads probably don't consider "pop" at all also do. What I do mind is when bands like Bad Omens or Bring Me the Horizon or Wage War try their hand at the kind of mind-numbing, middling bullshit that Maroon 5 and Charlie Puth feed to inattentive half-listeners in grocery stores. It's even more offensive when these bands know they can do better, and Sleep Token is the worst offender as of late in this department. Sleep Token is the lazy, unsustainable shortcut via the hollow gimmick of referential pop trend-hopping within metal presented as "genre-bending" to broader relevance that Ghost, by contrast, have earned through tireless improvement of pop songcraft over the past decade.
I speculated at the end of my post that this fawning over Sleep Token might come from an anxiety over metal as a genre not having anything left to offer broader culture. And I think the short-term focus inherent within capitalism that all these publications (which are basically marketing wings of labels) are beholden to is what makes the possibility of a drought so scary for them. The driving forces behind Loudwire and Metal Injection don't exactly permit the patience for what is likely just a natural lull in creativity, because to them that's a loss in productivity, and that's next to sacrilege. I also speculated on my own anxiety about metal as a genre running out of steam, but taking a step back and looking at the broader history of any genre existing longer than 10 years, there are waves, peaks and valleys, times of plenty and times of want, drop-offs and revivals. It's the circle of life, and we've seen it with metal already, and with subgenres within metal. And also, if the time is near for when metal bottoms out in a way it doesn't come back from and effectively "dies" (as much as any genre in the internet age can die), so what? If metal dies, it will not go into the ground with any unused potential, it will be because the very active and passionate community will have completed music, gotten all the achievements, and exhausted everything possible to with the genre except retread old ground. But I know that it won't be brought back or kept from the brink by bands writing songs for car insurance commercials.
This got a little tangential at the end here, but I think it's worth distinguishing (since so many people draw parallels between them lately) the genuine pop appeal of Ghost that Impera embodies so excellently and the cynical pop appeal of Sleep Token. Leaving aside the riveting discourse about whether Ghost qualify as a "metal band" or not, they unquestionably represent the genre to the unfamiliar, and I don't think metal needs the kind of submissive pop crossover appeal of Sleep Token when it has the emphatic pop crossover appeal of Ghost at their creative peak.
Anyway, Impera is a masterpiece, thank you Ghost!
9/10: AOTY 2022
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Part three of the interwiew moment feels thing. Is Scott dissing current ice skating saying they grew up in an era where they had to take risks? Also i find the fact that they sometimes choose what to do based on what would be more unexpected hilarious. And Scott mentioning Suzanne by name saying she sort of lay the groundwork for that, like yea give that woman all the credit she deserves. Oh and them talking a lot whenever they do meet up now thats really endearing, sort of derailing the interwiew. Their parents waking up at 4 in the morning every day for years oh they really must have loved seeing their kids doing what they loved, it seems like a small thing but really its huge, how much they did for their kids. And the train analogy is nice and Scott saying he really likes it too when tessa is wondering if shes taking it too far. They really support each other so much. And them ending the interwiew saying they wouldnt be where they are without all the people supporting them. Its a really nice way to end the interwiew not focusing on themself but on others. And yea thats the interwiew. I hope this wasnt too rambling for you. If I manage to form more coherent thoughts about parts of this, il send you another ask. But yea the interwiew had a really nice vibe to it, being serious but not at the same time.
No this was a more coherent summary than I could’ve done!
This bit about their parents sacrificing so much for them:
So heads up I’m not a parent and I’m an only child so i might be speaking out of my arse here and of course every family situation is different
Disclosures out of the way;
When I was growing up dancing and being super into it and quite talented- starting to look for more opportunities out side of just my crappy dance school, my mum would basically drop everything for me. She wasn’t a single parent but she basically was bc my dad did nothing for me in this respect, she had one part time job that didn’t pay much and every single cent went to me and my dancing. I didn’t have the early wake ups like vm did thankfully but I had to travel really far away to get better training. She would pick my up from school after work 3 days a week and we would drive 2 hours away for 4 hours of dance, finish at 9 and drive home for 2 hours while I sleep in the car and the next day I would have to be at school at 6 am for school dance, then there was the exorbitant fees for training, pointe shoes, uniforms, physio, competitions, travel- my first international competition I got to the finals and she didn’t have enough money left to get a ticket to watch me, so she waited in the dressing rooms listening over the sound system.
She did so much for me and when I stopped dancing due to my back problems she layed an enormous amount of guilt on herself thinking it was her fault/ she shouldn’t have let me pursue this when my back condition developed bc it ended in so much pain and heart break. That was really hard for us and we fell out of our very close relationship over that grief, but we’re now getting back on better terms.
(I’m sorry this is a little life story)
On the contrary:
My best friend growing up who I danced with, she was one of 3 kids and her family was far more well off than me, she did dance and gymnastics- I’m pretty sure at one point she was national level at gymnastics. Anyway, one day her mum said to my mum “I could never do what you do for your daughter (me)”.
Now she had 3 young kids, worked full time, understandable it would be hard to take her daughter all around the place.
But VM’s parents did it.
They both have multiple siblings, yes some of T’s were much older when she was a child starting skating, but Scott’s were closer in age. T’s parents worked full time- her grandma helped out a lot. Skating is RIDICULOUSLY expensive and very hard to get funding for- a lot of adult skaters work other jobs to support themselves. They did it- they did all that for their kids- their youngest kids at that which a) in a way the others were older and could take care of themselves more but b) raising kids is expensive and again I’m not a parent but I imagine by kid 3 or 4 this gets exhausting- so now having the last kids to be born in each family be the ones doing the most and having the most insane- as VM said, depraved lifestyle full of strictness most kids don’t ever insure- their parents still did that for them.
This is not a comment on good and bad parenting- as I said people have different situations- but there are some that really do go above and beyond and don’t let anything/ don’t make excuses for themselves as parents for not giving their children everything to succeed- VM’s parents are incredible they deserve so much credit for what wonderful children they raised- NO MEDIA TRAINING- they were just raised so well to be kind and empathetic and appreciate every opportunity to afforded them.
Parents of the freaking century!!
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-Straight From The Heart-
~Chapter 2~
You woke up with dried slobber stuck to your cheek and your phone vibrating like crazy. Without a second thought, you sucked it up and answered it as if you hadn't overslept your alarms. "Good morning, is this a Y/N?" Your eyes blown wide and you quickly wiped your face. "Why yes, this is she/he/them! Who may I ask is calling?" You could feel your heart hammering in your chest. "Yes, this is Yuki from Double Link Tech company and I'm calling in regards to an application? Is it okay that we go ahead and interview you today? Say in about an hour or so?" Without a single thought, you agreed. As soon as the phone call ended you mentally cursed yourself out.
Then you did it physically too.
"You fucking idiot why would you agree to interview in an hour!? Now I have to get ready in 15 minutes or less! On top of that, you better be praying that the trains can get you there in time." It appeared to be your lucky day having landed an interview but now you weren't even sure if you could make it there in time. You decided to try and run to catch the train. Unfortunately you ran smack dab into another person. Now you had go spare a few minutes to apologize and help them pick up the papers that fell from their suitcase when it hit the ground. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry I-" You paused when he looked down at you and smiled. "Its you, from the cafe yesterday? 5 cents!" He spoke with a smile as he started helping you pick up the papers. You'd reply with a witty remark about his mustache hair but there was no time for one-liners. You were so quick with picking up the papers that they were getting somewhat jumbled up and bent. "Whoa whoa 5 cents, slow it down. Why the big rush?" He asked as you both finished gathering the papers. "I'm sorry, I've got no time to talk. I have to catch this train in time for my interview." You showed him your phone and he frowned. "Uh I certainly hate to break this to you but that train schedule is way out of date. It left about 15 minutes ago. The next one is leaving in 3 minutes, and the one after that won't get you there in time." Your mouth opened in disbelief. "Hey if you don't close it, you'll catch flies." He laughed as he gently reached up and placed a hand under your chin to close your mouth. "Besides," He held up keys and jingled them. "I can get you there quicker than the train can."
For a moment you weighed the pros and cons of getting into the car with a total and complete stranger but after remembering his track record you ultimately decided there was no more time to think on it. After getting into the car with him (and secretly admiring the interior of it) you decided to start up some small talk while hoping he wasn’t some secret psycho that might take you somewhere and kill you. "So...a politician huh?" He smirked and peeked over at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road. "Ah, you figured it out slower than I thought you would. I'm so well talked about in this community that I thought you'd figure it out yesterday after leaving the shop. When did you get it exactly?" He asked with curiosity. "Oh I figured it out yesterday evening. A woman was handing out fliers. I don't mean to sound crazy but I did a little digging into your work last night and I'm thoroughly surprised with everything. You must be the worlds most perfect man. Well, at least here in Deika." You teased him and he blushed just barely. "Oh well yknow, I don't mean to brag but I am perfect. That being said, don't hesitate to vote for me in the next election." He winked at you and you rolled your eyes. "Oh please. We're going a little far for a vote aren't we?" You laughed. "Hmm, how so? Elaborate for me." He asked with amusement in his tone. "Well I mean covering my food cost yesterday and now giving me a ride to my job interview? I wouldn't think you needed my vote that bad did you?" You smiled teasing him and he rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "No I don't need your vote but I would appreciate it. This is all just the way I am. Besides, it's so sudden I've run into you again like this huh 5 cents?"
"It's Y/N actually." You finally corrected him, smiling widely. "Oh, I finally know your name then? My name is-"
"Hanabata. Koku Hanabata. I know. I wasn't kidding about researching you Mr. Politician." He chuckled and shook his head. After chatting for some period of time, you made it to your destination much quicker than the train would've gotten you there. You had a few more minutes to spare towards getting your nerves in line. Although now that you think about it, you weren't feeling as stressed after having a talk with Hanabata and getting your mind off things. "Thank you again for all your help." You smiled lightly and he nodded. "It's no issue. Just consider giving your vote for this term, 5 cent Y/N." He teased you and you rolled your eyes. With a quick double check of the time on your phone, you turned and headed into the building with full confidence.
...
And headed out of the building without it. There wasn't even a single moment to shed a tear considering the loud blare of a horn sounded out for a moment. You searched around for a second before your eyes landed on the black vehicle parked in the same spot it was about 15 minutes ago. You groaned and quickly walked to the passenger side as the window rolled down. "What are you still doing here???" You stared at him confusion and he shrugged. "I figured you needed a ride after your interview. There's no need to try and catch the train. It's mentally draining after having to sit through the hiring process is it not?" He patted the passenger seat. "Get in. I'll take you to lunch if you want?" You sighed and hesitated for just a moment before figuring there was nothing else to lose. The ride away from the building was far more different than the one there. The happy chatting wasn't present but instead the space was overtaken by silence and a thick tension. Finally Hanabata decided to clear his throat and cut the silence. "So I'm assuming it didn't go well?" Another minute of silence before you sighed deeply. "Yeah, I thought I had it in the bag but the woman that interviewed me was definitely not the same woman as the one on the phone this morning. She was quick and bored. In fact, it felt like she didn't even want to be around me to begin with. She didn't talk much about the company and she only asked me the bare minimum in questions. She didn't even give me any information as to how I could follow up with them or anything like that. I completely bombed that interview." You smacked yourself lightly on the forehead and he gave a long sigh. "Yeah I know how that can go, but don't get too down about it. To me it sounds like they already had somebody in mind that they wanted to hire. It's more than likely that they just needed to finish up the interview process for whatever reason. Don’t beat yourself up over it." He reassured you. You smiled gently and looked over to him. After another few minutes of driving and listening in and out to his podcasts he was playing, he finally spoke up again. "You know, I could use a little help on the campaign trail. It's usually an unpaid volunteer or intern job but we can maybe work something out behind closed doors-"
"Whoa let me stop you right there. I'm not that kind of person..."
"Ah, not like that of course!!! I just...I mean I know it's tough doing this job hunt right now. I know you just moved here and I also know money doesn't grow on trees. I'm figuring you could use a few extra dollars here and there."
"You're not wrong but I don't know if you should be sticking your neck out to help me so much like this. It's just, and I mean no offense when I say this, but it's just really suspicious. It feels like you're being fake with me." You admitted to him in full honesty. He chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah I get how it can feel that way. I have to apologize, but this is how I am sometimes. I tend to move quickly and lack the common hesitation that I need. It's just that I've developed this mindset with age that I have to strike while the iron is hot. Why wait to ask for the help when I have opportunity for it sitting right next to me?" He shrugged as he pulled into a parking lot next to a restaurant. "Well that makes sense and I understand it fully, but don't you think it's shady to be paying me for work everyone else is doing for free?" He smirked at your words and turned the car off. "What payment?" He winked and you caught his drift. "Besides, I also have a permanent office as well so if you can't find the job that suits you between now and then, you can feel free to work at my office permanently." He stated before getting out of the car and moving over to your side. He opened the door for you and stood to the side as you got out. "Thank you." You mumbled, following alongside him into the establishment. "And also for the lunch too..." You spoke quietly and he nodded. "No need to thank me for that. I don't like eating alone and my company cancelled on me unfortunately." He spoke while pulling out your chair for you to sit in. You mentally took note of the chivalry. He was starting to look more and more just as the articles described him...too perfect for this world apparently. "Company? What, your wife or husband or partner maybe? Work friends or something?" You asked him and he laughed. "More along the lines of friends. No partner, I'm single. In fact, I haven't truly dated anyone since I was in high school. That was a long time ago I'd call it. No time for dating when I was coming out of it for college. I was focused on scraping my way to where I am now. I'm in a comfortable place, but being married with a family would certainly look good for my publicity. Honestly more than that, I think I'm tired of coming home to an empty house each night. Sorry, I've begun rambling haven't I?" You laughed and nodded your head. "Yep, you sure talk a lot." He laughed at your honesty and started looking at the menu. "I've always been talkative. Please enlighten me about yourself? What about you? Are you single? Any long term plans for a career or anything like that?" You smiled and shook your head. "Haven't found the right person yet. I mean I've been on dates here and there in the past. I've had a partner or two but I find people can be so disappointing when you put all your faith in them. As far as careers go, I've learned it's most important to not have a dream job but to have a job you tolerate enough to use the funds towards living a life that makes you happy." You spoke as your eyes scanned the menu. "Interesting take on things. I've not seen the career lifestyle looked at in that light but it makes sense to me. Not everyone can land a dream job and even if you do, sometimes it's not all it's cracked up to be. I think you're right about it. Life certainly shouldn't be lived slaving away behind a desk for most people...not for me though. I love my job." He smiled proudly and you rolled your eyes. "I'm sure you do, Mr. Politician." You teased him.
#straight from the heart#chapter two#koku hanabata#koku hanabata x reader#trumpet bnha#mla#meta liberation army#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia
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Just finished watching John Wick 4 and MY GOD.
Here are my two cents, bcs I just can't with this one.
1. The Marquis. I mean, Bill Skarsgard nailed the role. I wish the directors and writers had nailed the character's, well, character. He was such an interesting addition and the duel between him and John Wick at the end could've been a spectacular showdown.
Throes of lethal assassins and hitmen, and the Marquis, chosen by the High Table, turns out to be nothing but an arrogant fool. It just didn't add up. Yeah. Pass.
They could've made him a deadly marksman, especially with the history of dueling being added. Convenient, yes, but it would've worked and integrated well with the theme.
Wasted potential is what it is.
tres bien sexci ouioui🤌✨ The pain is real with this one.
2. Caine. Loved Doni. Absolutely brilliant portrayal, especially when he'd perform that subtle hand gesture of hitting an object first before reaching for something, I loved his characteristics. He had motif and reason, and moved the story along.
🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 yessir. Anyways. Back to the point.
One thing I didn't get was, well, his need to be the nominator. Like I said, the Marquis would've sufficed as is, since it was essentially for his character that whole take-care-of-john-wick build up was happening, so I didn't particularly understand Caine's involvement in every matter of Wick's.
It would've been especially rewarding if his story instead coincided with Akira's, since he killed her father and she vowed revenge (or else what was the point of that train scene with her and John??), and her being a daughter and him wanting a reunion with his own, they shared parallels and would've given us one of the best showdowns in the movie.
3. The No One guy. I had an Altair flashback, but I digress. Um. Who tf asked for that character?
Like, who thought, 'yes, an absolutely irrelevant character whose main perk is his annoying butting in on everything would be the perfect addition to the last movie of the franchise' because that was a very, very bad move.
I mean, the dude tags along with his canine, an honest to God male version of Halle Berry's character in the third installment (would've much rather preferred her, since at least she's an established personality), and switches sides faster than bullets can fly through skulls.
I'm asking again, what was his pointless ass doing in that movie? There was enough mystery with the Marquis as is, so who asked for this No One?
Ugh. Irritated me to no end. Like shut up and go away. No one invited you. Or at least tell us WHY YOURE HERE AND WHY YOU NEED THAT MONEY. The writers really failed with this one. Utter garbage, I can't even sugarcoat it.
4. Winston. Him saying, "Goodbye, my son," at the graveyard was just...meh. But only because now, as the audience, we will never get to see that relationship bloom or become something else than it was. We will never know how John would've reacted to it, as the main character, being an orphan as he was.
And that's just lazy writing, because while it is an interesting detail and their relationship was already strong from the get to, there was no lead up to it or foreshadowing. It was merely tossed there at the end for the audience to digest and deal with all on their own. Hard pass.
It would've worked well if he'd said it the end of the third movie, right after shooting him, and walked away. That would've blown everyone's mind and in the fourth movie, we could've seen how their father-son dynamic would've played out.
But alas, another opportunity wasted.
5. Too much gun fights and not enough martial arts. I mean, Scot Adkins, AKA the infamous Yuri Boyka, joins the team and all we got were a few punches. I need MORE VIOLENCE. MORE BLOOD AND BRUISES. WHERE WERE ALL THOSE AMAZING PENCIL IN YOUR EAR TRICKS???? 😭😭😭😭😭
6. JOHN. JOHN WICK. I love him so much and wanted him to have a peaceful retirement with all his dogs, but now...😔. I do get it and it do justice to his story overall - it was Helen all along he fought for.
But honestly though. Did he have to kill the High Table member in the desert for his ring?? He could've disappeared and lived a good life as a dead man. The reason for his comeback was a tad bit silly imo.
In the end, John Wick got what he wanted and it was a decent plot. But nothing will top the second one for me. All that High Table culture and tradition and secret world being introduced just made the whore in me salivate yumyum.
What can I say, you will be missed, John Wick. 🔪🔪
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DISTRACTED | Charlie Gillespie
Requested by anon: “5 times reader (girlfriend) is almost distracted by a shirtless Charlie and one time she actually is.”
PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem!reader
WORDS: 1.6k
WARNING(s): some charlie thirst, what’s new ;)
SUMMARY: 4 times Y/N is almost distracted by her shirtless boyfriend and 1 time she actually is.
0.
You pride yourself over the fact that you never get distracted, no matter what. But sometimes, just sometimes, you can’t help it.
Especially when your boyfriend looks like that.
1.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Your eyes feel as if they are burning, and the ever-persistent headache of yours seems to be particularly intense today.
Yet, pushing all that tiredness away, you keep typing, typing, typing. The deadline for your essay that carries twenty per cent of your grade of your final year of college is tomorrow, and you’ve still got three hundred words to write.
Three hundred words does not seem like a lot on any other day, but after three cups of coffee and seven hours of staring at your laptop screen, it feels like death. The fact that you seem to be in a rut right now doesn’t help, either.
You scrounge around your brain, trying to pull ideas from each fold, but it’s useless. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or maybe it’s because of your boyfriend, Charlie, who has currently resorted to painting your toenails after not getting any sort of attention from you for the past few hours.
Ever since lockdown started, you and your boyfriend have been living together in your shared apartment in Toronto. You two have been planning to move in together for a while, but his work and your college always seemed to be obstacles. But this lockdown gave you both the perfect opportunity – plus, it was time, too. You two have been dating for more than four years – although, you’ve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember, but the intensity of it was realized only in the moment when he kissed you after an amazing prom together – you guys went together because you were best friends and loved being around each other more than anything. But the fact that there could be something more, something hidden in years of friendship seemed unlikely to the both of you before that day.
“Done.” He says, proudly. Your eyes leave your screen to look at the beautiful emerald colour on your toenails. You smile at him, and say, “That’s gorgeous, Char. Where’d you find it?”
He shrugs, a lopsided smile on his face. “It was in the bottom of your bag.”
You nod. “Right. I bought it the day before my last offline exam ended. I forgot.”
He smiles. “Now, will you pay me some attention?”
You purse your lips and pretend to be thinking. “Hmm… tempting, but no. I still have to get this done.”
He groans, dramatically. “You have been ignoring me for past hundred hours!”
You chuckle, ruffling his hair. “You’re so dramatic. It’s only been half a day. Now, go away. I need to finish this.”
He groans, again, and you wonder if he’s finally given up.
Instead, he rolls off the bed, and stands taller, leaning against the doorframe. “Y/N?”
You hum in question, as he makes a show out of taking off his T-shirt.
You bite your lip and remember how long it has been since you’ve run your hands on his chest. But you know that he’s doing this on purpose, to get a fraction of your attention. He knows and is proud of the fact that he has a hold over you, and the fact that even after four years, he still gives you butterflies over the slightest of smiles.
So, instead of giving in, you crawl under your covers with your laptop and decide to work there, as you suddenly gain inspiration, and thank yourself for not being distracted by your boyfriend’s absolutely beautiful body.
“Oh, come on!”
2.
The second time hit happens, it’s a Tuesday morning, and you’re giving an exam. Your laptop is in front of you, the face of your teacher and classmates filling your screen, as the sound of your pen scratching against your answer sheet fills the room.
You bite the end of your pen, pondering over a question when you suddenly hear your boyfriend’s voice. You look up, and notice him, shirtless, and talking on the phone to someone.
“Yeah, I mean, we could do that…” He says, and your eyes trail across his back, as he stares out the window on the wall opposite to you.
“No, Mom, we’re not gonna drive to Canada. I’m not that crazy!” He exclaims, and you arch your neck to get a better view of him, and the sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
“Sure, I can ask Y/N…” He says, and you quickly avert your eyes back to your paper, just in time to hear your teacher call out your name.
“Y/N? What are you looking at?” She asks, and you adjust your headphones, clearing your throat.
“I thought someone was at the door. Sorry, Ms. Harrington.” You’re painfully aware of the warmth spreading through your cheeks, and as she nods, you start writing again.
You hear Charlie whisper a ‘sorry’, and you smile at him – he thinks that the reason your teacher just called you out is because he was going to ask you something.
You don’t correct him – his ego doesn’t need to know the fact that you were almost distracted.
3.
Just one more question, you think. One more question, and you’re done with this semester.
But your mind is wandering, and the fact that you still have thirty minutes left doesn’t help. When this exam started, you thought that you wouldn’t be able to finish it in time and wrote as fast as you could, but now there’s plenty of time and just one, tiny answer left.
You rest your elbows on your desk and check on your classmates. Everyone is frantically scribbling, and you smile evilly at the fact that you’re not one of them right now.
“Honey? You have a minute?”
You hear Charlie from behind you. You nod, and say, “I’m listening.” You don’t turn back, since you have to keep an eye on your teacher. (She is knitting right now, for some reason.)
“You wanna go somewhere for the holidays?” He says, his raspy morning voice causing goosebumps to appear on your skin.
“I’m not sure… I mean we just came back from Maui last month – do you think it’s wise to go somewhere again?”
“Well, we’ll maintain social distancing, and use masks.”
“I’m not sure…”
“Come on, it’s our fifth anniversary!”
You finally look at him, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s shirtless, as usual. You mentally curse him as you think that you need to add ‘no being shirtless for no reason’ to your household rules. (Currently, you have three: one, no disturbing the other while working; two, following the chore chart; three, no spilling coffee or red wine on the white living room rug.) (The last one has occurred more times than one might expect.)
You focus on keeping your eyes trained on his, but you still struggle to form words. “I – not a wise idea…”
He grins, understanding the situation, as you avert your eyes back to your paper.
“Please, baby?”
You know he’s pouting.
“Fine.” You say, just to get him off your back.
“You’re the best!” He presses a kiss to your cheek and is instantly gone. As your mind still tries to hold on to the frayed strings of the warmth and the smell of his presence, you pray that your classmates didn’t notice the interaction.
4.
You smile at Charlie’s mother, who is talking animatedly on your phone.
“Then, I told Meg to get some sugar, but she bought salt instead, and to top that, she dumped the entire bowl into my batter! Now, it tastes like absolute shit!” She glares at Megan, Charlie’s sister, who smiles sheepishly from behind her.
You laugh. “Like brother, like sister.”
“You know it.” She says, her French accent thick.
“So, I was thinking… Maybe, after the holidays, we could fly back to Dieppe? It’s not like we’re gonna go to college any time soon, so –”
“Yes, please! I miss you guys so much. You know, last night –”
She starts to say something else, but your boyfriend is doing push ups in front of you, and it’s really, really, really hard to focus, especially when his body is glistening under the afternoon sun.
He seems to feel your gaze, and sharply turns towards you, while you quickly look back to his mother.
“–but the point is, I miss you two.” She finishes, while Megan nods. “Me too, sis. It’s so boring here without you two.”
You smile and can feel warmth in your stomach. “Of course. I miss you guys, too. Charlie’s so boring.”
“Hey!”
+1.
You exhale and close the lid of your laptop. “I’m done!” You yell, and Charlie instantly appears at the door, and runs towards the bed you’re currently seated on, and jumps atop.
“Finally! I missed you!” He says, wrapping an arm around your torso, pulling you closer.
“I missed you too, baby. But now I’m done with all my assignments, so I’m all yours for the next two weeks!” You sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He grins, and your eyes avert to his chest, but this time, you let yourself be distracted, because after weeks of sleep deprivation and pure torture, you deserve this.
You smile, connecting your lips, and run your hands on his chest. He smiles against the kiss, and you whisper, “I love you so much.”
“And I love you so much.”
as always feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated!
#charlie gillespie#julie and the phantoms#jatp#jatp fanfic#jatp fanfiction#jatp oneshot#jatp imagine#charlie gillespie x reader#charlie gillespie x y/n#charlie gillespie fanfic#charlie gillespie fanfiction#charlie gillespie oneshot#charlie gillespie oneshots#charlie gillespie imagines#charlie gillespie imagine#charlie gillespie + reader#charlie gillespie + y/n#charlie gillespie x fem!reader#owen joyner#madison reyes#jeremy shada#charlie x reader#jatp charlie gillespie#luke patterson#luke patterson x reader#charlie gillespie fluff
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Wildcard, Chapter Four
Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve. (Slowburn)
Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Random Hydra guy
Warnings: Fluffy!Bucky, Flirting, bed sharing
Words: 2.5k
The ride to the safehouse was relatively quiet besides the sounds of the road outside of the vehicle you were in. The drive took about 2 hours, and you had no idea where you were. By the time the agents had dropped you off, the sun had started to rise over the small cabin. The SUV that had dropped you off, drove away quietly behind you, while you and Bucky looked at the small house. You looked at each other and then raced inside. You were ahead of Bucky, trying to get to the bed first but he grabbed you around the waist and spun you around with him as you squealed out. He set you down and you pushed him aside to open the bedroom door. Bucky tried to grab hold of the shirt you were wearing but was just short as you threw yourself onto the bed. You rolled over. Your hair sticking up in every direction as you grinned triumphantly. Your face was heated from the small workout racing the soldier provided.
Bucky groaned as he walked back into the living room to fall backwards onto the couch, “How am I supposed to sleep on this thing?”
You laughed from the other room before walking out and joining him on the old couch, plopping down with a sigh, your thigh resting against his. The last twelve hours has been the most Bucky has ever spoken to or even touched you. You were still processing the way he held you while you slept. That was the first time (that you remembered) you had been held like that. You sighed softly at thought and Bucky turned his head to look at you.
“Everything alright?” He asked and you nodded your head, not looking at him. You knew you were easy to read and you were afraid if you looked into those steel eyes, your fears would come true. You have always had a soft spot for the soldier, you never truly realized what it meant until now. You haven't let yourself really have feelings after your rescue, you wanted to be the easiest to work with. You haven't even cried since you had been found, now when you were around Bucky, your stomach would do flips and you barely even knew the man. You knew what he had been through and how he took his coffee, but who was Bucky Barnes?
“What did you want to be when you grew up?” You asked him, staring up at the ceiling.
He studied you with his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, “I think I always knew I would become a soldier when I was younger.” You smiled at the thought of a baby Bucky running around with toy guns, so innocent. “Did you always want to be…. An accountant?” The question made you let loose a sharp laugh. You shook your head and covered your eyes with your right hand.
“No, I decided I wanted to become an accountant senior year of high school.” You smiled slightly at the foggy memory, “I had always wanted to be a police officer or FBI agent. I wanted to help the world in whatever way I could.” You could feel Bucky’s eyes searing into the side of your face. You cleared your throat, “Do you remember your parents?”
-
The questions went back and forth for what felt like hours. You learned Bucky spent the most time around Steve's mom, he had two sisters, his favorite color was green, and he hates olives. You had told him what little you remembered of your family, about your little sister. You didn't remember their faces very well but you remembered the dynamic. You told Bucky about your random love for olives and he started dramatically gagging. Your laugh echoed through the cabin you shared with him. For the first time in eight months, you felt light. You had somehow shifted to one end of the couch and wrapped yourself in a blanket, Bucky sat on the over end with your feet in his lap. The more you talked to him, the more memories you accessed.
“Okay, okay. Who was your first girlfriend?” You asked as you stood up from the couch in search of a bottle of wine. You heard Bucky chuckle as he thought about it. You emerged from the kitchen with two glasses and a dusty old bottle of red.
You had Bucky open the bottle and pour the glasses as you returned to your spot on the couch. “I think my first girlfriend's name was Ruth?” He said squinting his eyes as if it would help him remember.
“Damn Barnes, how many girls have you been with?” You asked, taking a glass of wine off of the coffee table.
He shook his head and leaned back against the cushions, “No, it's your turn to answer now. How was your first boyfriend?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you gently slapped the hard metal of his shoulder.
You closed your eyes searching the memories that surfaced on your brain, “Josh? His name was Josh Noah, I was 16, maybe?” You drew a blank when it came to remembering faces and you didn't push yourself to. You opened your eyes and smirked, “So, you were a ladies man, huh?”
You laughed as heat rushed to his cheeks, painting his face but he didn't look ashamed. “Yeah, I got around quite a bit.” You studied his face as he searched through his thoughts. You smiled slightly wondering what a date with Bucky Barnes would be like.
You sipped at your wine and made a small face at the flavor. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't like what you had at the tower. Bucky laughed at you and you stuck your tongue out at him in defiance. You absentmindedly reached out to touch the cold metal of his arm and he flinched away from you. You gave him an apologetic expression as you pulled your hand back, “Sorry, I should have asked first.”
“No, no. It’s okay, I haven't really had anyone touch me in a long time who wasn't trying to attack me.” The way he said it made a heat rise to the surface of your skin all over your body. You looked up into his eyes and felt your stomach start to do backflips once again. You reached your hand back out slowly and splayed your fingers against the metal forearm.
You adored the man in front of you, you knew the types of nightmares he had. You wished you could just take them away. “Bucky, you deserve all of the good things in life.” You made circles with your thumb as you spoke softly. “Your past does not define you. Your favorite color changes and so do you. You are not the bad guy anymore.” You didn't know what possessed you to say it, but you had to. Bucky just stared at you with wide eyes. You smiled softly before leaning back and taking your hand off of his arm. You brought the glass up to your lips and chased down all of the liquid in it. You frown at the uncomfortable burn in the back of your throat as you stood up from the couch and made your way to the kitchen once again. You were hungry for the first time in the last 24 hours. You looked at the clock and realized it was almost dinner time. You and Bucky had sat on the couch for hours just getting to know each other. The feeling in your chest started to rise once again but you pushed it back down to wherever it came from. You pulled the sleeves of the shirt you were wearing, his shirt, over your hands as you searched through the kitchen for ingredients. The house had been stocked with all the things you would find in the tower, you added a mental note to thank Steve for the shopping list he had created. You peeked out into the living room to see Bucky was exactly where you had left him. Oh god, you broke Bucky Barnes. You leaned against the entryway to the kitchen and cleared your throat.
“Do you have any objections to taco soup?” You asked him, crossing your arms.
He snapped out of whatever haze he was in and looked at you, “Tacos in a soup?”
“Yeah, it's actually really good. Wanna help me cook?” You gestured into the kitchen as he nodded and stood from the couch. “Hey Buck?” He looked at you and tilted his head as you spoke, “Did I say something wrong?”
He looked panicked, “No! You didn't say anything wrong I-” He sighed and ran his hand through his long hair, “I never realized how much I needed to hear that until you said it.”
You understood where he was coming from, hell you would have shut down if someone said those words to you. You nodded before turning around and disappearing into the kitchen to start the cooking. You want to eat dinner at a decent time so you better start now.
Taco soup was the poor kids dinner from college. The only real ingredient that wasn't in a can that you needed was ground beef. Everything else was in a 79 cent can. You browned the meat in the pot while Bucky went to work on opening the cans for you while you cooked, you smiled at him as he passed each one to you and you added them to the pot. You finished combining all of the ingredients and placed the lid of the pot on.
“Okay so,” You looked up at the clock on the wall and did the math in your head. “Let it boil for about 20 minutes, then we can eat.” You walked over to the fridge pulling out sour cream and shredded cheese, setting them on the counter top. You looked over at Bucky, who was eyeing the soup questionably.
“It looks like we are boiling the rust off of something.” He stood up straight and looked over his shoulder at you as you shrugged and pulled out two bowls.
“I could just let you starve, but I actually like having you around.” You shrugged and swatted him away as he poked at your side. You leaned against the counter top and watched him. The kitchen was not very big, making the space crowded between you two when you were both working around the kitchen. He came to stand next to you as you both stared at the boiling pot in silence. Your stomach growled loudly which made him chuckle. You smiled, the laugh you elicited from him made you feel like you were floating. You smiled brightly at him, watching the way his chest moved as he laughed. He looked down over at you and you realized you were staring. You averted your eyes back to the boiling pot in front of you and sighed loudly, which he dramatically copied. You grinned and shouldered his side, getting a well deserved, ooph. Bucky turned around as the minutes counted down and pulled out two bowls and spoons. You turned off the stove top and lifted the lid of the pot, taking a deep inhale of the delicious scent. You were starving, so you were quick to fill the two bowls with a ladle. You dressed your soup up with a spoonful of sour cream and half the bag of cheese, while Bucky only dressed his with a handful of the cheese. You both carried your bowls to the small round table in the corner of the kitchen. You sat in one of the small wooden chairs, sitting criss crossed as you always did when you were comfortable. You raised one spoonful of the soup to your mouth, blowing on it gently before actually tasting the contents. It was delicious, as it always was. You really enjoyed cooking, it came so naturally to you. You looked up and saw Bucky was thoroughly enjoying his soup the same way you were. You both ate in a comfortable silence until you were full. You stood up from the table and reached to grab his empty bowl.
He smacked your hand away playfully and stood with you, “Let me clean up, you did all the cooking.” He extended his hand out, waiting for you to place your empty bowl in it. You wanted to say something snarky, but you knew he genuinely wanted to help out. You lost the war in your head so you let him take your bowl away to the kitchen. You decided to change out of the clothes you were wearing and into your pajamas. There wasn't much to the cabin, it wasn't an open floor plan and it only consisted of a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and one bathroom. You knew there was a shed out back that served as a weapons vault, and you also knew the bathroom mirror that opened up into a medical supply cabinet. You maneuvered past the couch to the bedroom. You pulled Bucky’s shirt off over your head and threw it onto the corner of the room, you put your bag on the bed and rummaged through it. You pulled out an old tee shirt you knew was Steves, you pulled it over your head and worked on stripping your legs out of the leggings you wore. You wanted to remain in your underwear but you also didn't want Bucky to feel uncomfortable, so you pulled on a pair of cut off sweatpants and walked out of the room. Bucky was trying to set up the couch to be somewhat comfortable for the night. You leaned against the door frame of the room and crossed your arms over your chest.
“Hey, Buck?” You asked. He looked up and met your eyes, “Can you sleep in the bed with me tonight?”
You weren't able to read his eyes, you watched as he stood up straight and contemplated the offer. He nodded his head, “Yeah of course I will.” He stripped the couch of its blanket and walked up to you. You smiled and led him into the room, shutting the door behind him. “I just need to use the restroom, then I'll be ready.” You nodded as he dropped the blanket onto the bed and disappeared into the bathroom with his duffle bag. You slipped off your shorts and crawled into the bed. The sheets were so soft against your skin, the feeling was welcome. You fluffed up the two pillows behind you before sinking down into the bed. You turned the lamp off besides you and sighed. The bathroom door creaked open and spilled light into the room. You could see the outline of Bucky, the light clicked off and you listened to him approach. The bed dipped under his weight as he pulled back the covers. He laid beside you and covered himself up, tucking his right arm behind his head. You rolled on your side to face him.
“Goodnight, Bucky.” You said quietly to the figure next to you.
“Goodnight, doll.”
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x avenger!reader#bucky barns imagine#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#marvel imagine
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the story of us
summary: Five times Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgeton were just friends and one time they were more.
find chapter 1 here or here
find chapter 2 here or here
find chapter 3 here or here
find chapter 4 here or here
find chapter 5 part 1 here or here
----
chapter 5 part 2: all along there was some invisible string tying you to me
Anthony Bridgerton was an idiot.
He wasn’t just an idiot. You see, usually idiots are not aware of their idiocy. They live carefree and blissfully unaware of their idiocy.
Anthony knew he was being an idiot.
It was eating him alive.
He didn’t stop it, though. He didn’t know what else to do. He kept his distance from Kate as much as he could. It was the only thing he could think to do.
It was just so difficult.
He would screw it up. He would break them. It’s what he did. He screwed things up. He had nearly screwed things up with Daphne and Simon, he had screwed things up with Siena and he would screw things up with Kate.
Kate had been a constant in his life since he was nineteen years old.
Kate was his lifeline.
Anthony knew he shouldn’t put that all on her but he didn’t have a choice. There was nothing he could control when it came to Kate Sheffield. He had been completely hers since the moment they sat down in that lecture hall and she announced that he was wrong to their entire lecture.
Then proceeded to argue with him for the next thirty minutes.
He never stood a chance.
Kate deserved everything. She didn’t need someone who had an irrational fear of dropping dead from a bee sting and couldn’t manage a healthy relationship.
It’s not like he tried.
What was the point? They weren’t Kate.
Anthony needed time.
He needed time to figure it out. He could manage it. He had to get his head straight and learn to just erase his feelings and the constant pain. He had to learn to adapt and inevitably watch her be happy with someone else.
If they got too close, they would implode. The fine line between them had grown thinner and thinner and they were in the danger zone. They had been since their kiss.
It couldn’t happen again.
The thing about Kate was she still had that magic.
Kate believed in love. Kate wanted that struck by lightning, unconditional and inconceivable type of love. She deserved that type of love.
Kate deserved to feel the way Anthony felt every time he looked at her.
Anthony wasn’t a complete pessimist, he knew love existed. He had grown up watching his parents madly in love until his dad died. His mother had barely recovered from it. Anthony still hadn’t recovered from it. Violet Bridgerton still had bad days, days where she forgot to pick up Hyacinth or Gregory from school or lay in bed all day, barely moving. How could he do that to Kate? How could he let himself go through that?
That type of love wasn’t something he could give her.
That’s why he couldn't try with Kate. If there was a chance something could happen between them, he wouldn’t take it.
He wouldn't ruin that kind of love for her.
He would always love her, he would just have to let someone else do it.
He just had to figure out how to.
His only plan so far was avoiding her.
That plan was pretty flawed so far.
Anthony didn’t want to hurt Kate. He knew he was hurting her anyway, he didn’t miss her hurt expressions or uncharacteristic silences when he made an excuse that he had to go out for a while or that he would be late coming home. He was trying to fix things before something bad happened.
It’s just incredibly difficult to avoid the one person you spend all your time with and you happen to live with.
He wasn’t necessarily avoiding her, he was just distancing himself temporarily from her while he sorted things out. which is something he liked to convince himself of to try not feel like a complete and utter asshole.
He had even booked hotel rooms to try to get some sleep. How could he sleep when Kate was a few metres away from him? How could he concentrate on anything but Kate when she was close to him?
He needed to protect them.
He needed boundaries.
He also needed Kate.
“Anthony!” Hyacinth shouted cheerfully, grinning widely at her brother as she ran towards him from the school’s front door. Anthony had been leaning against the railing of the gate, waiting for Hyacinth and Gregory to finish school.
His afternoon meetings had been cancelled so he called their nanny, Pippa and told her to take the rest of the day off. His mother had been down at Aubrey Hall for the week with builders planning some reconstruction and she was due back this evening. She hadn’t said anything yet but he suspected it had something to do with preparations for Daphne’s wedding. Anthony wanted to see his siblings and he needed a distraction from the million thoughts running through his head.
“Hi titch,” Anthony said, grinning back at her as he leaned down and picked her up, resting her on his hip. She was too old at seven to be carried around, but he didn’t really care. He needed Hyacinth to stay little for as long as possible. “How was school? Have you seen Greg?”
“It was fun,” She murmured, resting her cheek on his shoulder and letting out a small yawn. “We had to draw our favourite animal, so I obviously drew Newton.”
Anthony couldn’t stop the smirk breaking out on his face. “Obviously. Can I see?”
Hyacinth nodded slowly, wiggling out of his arms so she could open up her Jurassic Park backpack. She pulled out a piece of paper with her drawing, which had a crayon version of what Anthony guessed was Hyacinth, Gregory, Kate, Anthony and the ginger blob in the middle that was Newton.
Something inside of Anthony’s chest clenched.
“Be careful,” Hyacinth scolded, prying the paper out of Anthony’s hands. “I’m going to give it to Kate.”
Anthony bent down to Hyacinth’s eye level, smiling at her as he held open her back and put the picture back inside. “Kate will love it.”
Kate would love it. She was so incredible with Hyacinth and Gregory and they adored her. Kate kept everything they had given her over the years, it had been pinned up on Anthony’s fridge along with the drawings and pictures he’d received from them since Kate had moved in.
They also adored her demon corgi, who had taken over Anthony’s flat for weeks. The little shit climbed into his bed every single night and he knew Anthony wouldn’t kick him out. He had given up a long time ago.
He also started walking him whenever Kate couldn’t, she usually brought him in the evenings and Anthony in the morning when he went for his daily jog.
It made Kate insanely happy when he did it, so obviously Anthony was going to do it.
He had quickly snapped a sly picture when Hyacinth wasn’t looking, he had to send it to Kate. There was no harm in it. Right?
It was just a picture.
Anthony: [sent an image]
Anthony: Your demon inspired Hyacinth’s picture for animal day. She’s excited to show you this later.
Kate: omg. I want to cry that is so bloody cute. Can’t wait to pin it up on the fridge. You look like you’ve put on a few pounds though x
Kate: please do not talk about your godson like that
Anthony: Please, I’m still the best looking guy you’ll ever know.
Kate: sorry, it’s spelled p-a-t-h-e-t-i-c*
Anthony: Sorry, it’s spelled I-am-letting-you-live-in-my-flat*
Kate: My presence is a gift.
Anthony: Also-We’re not getting into this again. I have no familial relation to Newton.
Kate: He has your middle name!
Anthony: Dogs don’t have middle names!
Kate: Do you want to see his birth certificate?
Anthony: Do you mean the certificate you made yourself and framed on your wall? Unfortunately, I’ve seen it more than once. That’s enough for a lifetime.
Kate: [sent an image]
Anthony: Your middle finger is a bit wonky.
Kate: [sent an image]
Anthony: I hope your boss saw you take that.
Anthony chuckled under his breath as he looked up from his phone, spotting Gregory talking to a few of his friends across the playground before waving at Anthony, jogging towards them. He glanced back at the text chain, internally cursing at himself. Why did he always have to flirt with her? He couldn’t help it.
“Hey mate!” Anthony grinned as Gregory reached them, wearing his football kit. They were heading straight to Gregory’s football training in a nearby park, where Anthony and Hyacinth would go for a walk and wait for training to finish. Anthony ruffled his hair, taking his bag and sports bag. “Good day?”
“Hey!” Gregory said, grunting at Hyacinth before beaming up at Anthony. Anthony knew it wouldn’t last forever but he’d pay every cent he had to keep Greg looking at him like he was his hero. “Are you coming to watch me play football?”
“Of course I am,” Anthony said, nudging at Hyacinth to start walking towards the car. “I can’t wait. Are you excited? Come on, we better get going.”
“Anthony! Hello!” A blonde woman Anthony had definitely seen before was standing around a group of women, with their kids running around them and screaming. She practically pushed another woman out of the way to get to him. “How are you?”
He couldn’t for the life of him remember who she was. “Hello,” He said lamely, glancing at Gregory and Hyacinth who looked bored and were absolutely no help. “I’m great, thank you. How are you? Nice to see you again. I’m sorry, we’re just in a bit of a rush.”
It was slightly rude of him but once one of these parents cornered you, you’d be stuck there for hours. He wasn’t going to get stuck talking about a bake sale for the next half an hour.
“I’m lovely thank you-Oh! Yes, of course. You’re such a good brother. Have a good day!” The blonde woman called after Anthony as he hastily nudged Hyacinth and Gregory along. “If you need any help or are interested in the bake sale next week, I can give you my number-”
“Get in,” Anthony practically hissed urgently, waving his hand in the direction of the women but quickly flicking open his boot and car.
“One of them is Sasha’s mum,” Hyacinth grumbled, glancing back at the herd of women whose eyes had followed them towards Anthony’s car. “They think you’re good looking.”
Anthony threw their bags in the boot and opened the back door, winking at Hyacinth as she climbed into the car. “Well, they’re not wrong.”
Anthony laughed as Hyacinth and Gregory both made disgusted faces.
Gregory frowned at his passenger side. “I’m too old for a car seat.”
Anthony rolled his eyes. “The law would argue otherwise. In.”
Gregory took one look at his brother’s face and didn’t argue, grumbling as he moved into the car seat. Anthony checked their seatbelts and once everything was set, he climbed in himself and drove off to the park.
“When are you and Kate getting married?”
“What?” Anthony’s eyes snapped towards the rearview mirror, widening as he looked at Hyacinth.
Hyacinth didn’t seem phased whatsoever by her question. “When are you and Kate getting married?”
“We’re not,” Anthony said with a steady voice, glancing towards Greg who was too consumed with his Nintendo to care about the conversation. Is that what they both taught? “Why would you ask that?”
Hyacinth shrugged. “Daph and Simon are getting married.”
“That’s because they’re engaged.”
“Oh,” Hyacinth said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she processed the conversation. “Why aren’t you and Kate engaged?”
“Kate and I are friends,” Anthony explained, feeling the dampness of his palms against the steering wheel. “We’re not like Daphne and Simon.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Anthony said, a slight edge of irritation in his voice as he focused back on the road. He didn’t need to be mean, Hyacinth didn’t understand what she was talking about. “Why are you asking so many questions?”
“Well, people in love get married right?”
“Yes.”
“Daphne and Simon love each other?”
“They do.”
“Did Mum and Dad love each other?”
Anthony felt himself soften. “Very much.”
“Don’t you love Kate?”
“I do,” Anthony said hesitantly because he did in the exact way Hyacinth was asking but he didn’t really feel like getting into that. “People can love each other and not get married. It’s different for Kate and I-”
“No it’s not,” Hyacinth interrupted, a finality to the tone of her voice. It was the tone she used before she had a complete fit or meltdown. “I better be a flower girl.”
Anthony knew he was fighting a losing battle, and the irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him in relation to his current predicament. “At our non-existent wedding? Of course you can.”
Hyacinth stuck his tongue out at her and it reminded him so much of Kate, he nearly laughed out of relief and pain.
There it was again.
Kate.
Kate was constantly on his mind.
This was the problem. It was hit fault. This wasn’t the first time a family member, well, not just his family-anyone-had suggested there was something going on between him and Kate. They weren’t just friends. Kate was his best friend, she was everything but she had always been something a little bit more.
He had found her eight years ago and he didn’t know what to do.
Now, it felt like it was too late.
What the hell was he going to do?
Anthony couldn’t get Kate’s hurt look out of his head as he charged out of the house. It even momentarily distracted him from the blind fury he was feeling while he drove to the police station.
Benedict and Simon were right behind him, Benedict climbing into the front and Simon into the back. Anthony put the car in gear, speeding out of the driveway. The police station Colin was detained in wasn’t far and Anthony had already sorted out everything.
“Why did you do that?” Benedict asked, breaking the silent and tense atmosphere in the car as Anthony danced along the speeding limit, his foot pressing onto the accelerator to get to Colin.
He was relieved his brother was okay because Anthony was going to kill him himself.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you let Kate come? Over Simon?” Benedict asked, staring flatly at Anthony. “No offence Simon.”
Simon shook his head, pursing his lips. “None taken. I’m happy-well, not happy-happy to help.”
“I didn’t let Kate do anything.” Anthony said, in complete disbelief Benedict was bringing this up. There was a reason he didn’t let Kate come, he was trying to distance her from all of his shit. She didn’t need to be involved in this.
“Oh right,” Benedict said, sarcasm dripping in his tone which pissed off Anthony even further. “That makes sense. As if Kate isn’t involved in everything to do with you and our family. Kate is a part of our family. Why haven’t you done something about it?”
“She doesn’t need to be involved in this.” What the hell was Benedict doing? Why did it feel like everyone was against him? Anthony was trying, he was bloody trying and everything still went to complete shit.
Benedict didn’t buy a word of it. “Are you ever going to tell her?”
“Don’t start this shit tonight Ben,” Anthony said, his tense voice a warning, not a request. “Our brother is in jail.”
“I’m just saying-”
“I didn’t ask,” Anthony interrupted swiftly, his grip on the wheel tightening significantly. He could practically feel the vein in his forehead bulging. “Drop it.”
Anthony could see Benedict glance back at Simon, making some sort of gesture but Simon just shrugged, shaking his head.
Smart move, Hastings.
“Let’s go,” Anthony said once they arrived at the station, getting out of the car and walking into the empty police station. He paid Colin’s bail, filling out a form as he waited for an officer to bring Colin out.
Colin eventually appeared, looking worse for wear. He didn’t look in any way hurt, which made Anthony relax slightly. The blue shirt he was wearing was rumpled and the mop of brown hair on the top of his head was sticking up in various directions, but he was okay.
“Anthony-”
“Not a fucking word,” Anthony snapped, his voice deadly low as he looked at Colin who shut his mouth quickly. “Follow Ben to the car. Now.”
Benedict lightly squeezed Colin on the shoulder as Colin walked towards him, opening and closing his mouth before deciding to do what Anthony said.
Anthony had to take a few deep breaths before he walked out towards the car. He needed to keep his cool. Whatever happened, Colin was his brother and it didn’t need to result in a huge argument. As long as Colin took responsibility for his actions, it would be relatively okay.
Colin was twenty-two years old and still acting like a complete child. He traveled whenever he wasn’t at university and didn’t show any responsibility when it came to their family and his own life. Anthony was trying to not get too involved, getting Colin to even go to university had taken ten years off his life but sometimes Colin really tested his patience.
Anthony’s cool temperament lasted about twenty seconds once he got into the car.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
Anthony snorted while Benedict sighed deeply. “It never is, is it Colin?”
“I was drunk,” Colin said, slumping in his seat like Gregory did when he was annoyed about something. “Marina dumped me. I met up with my mates and got drunk. It was a mistake. How was I supposed to know you’re not meant to piss on statues?”
Anthony hesitated for a moment, glancing back at his brother’s face. Colin was in pain. He had really liked Marina, the whirlwind he had met while skiing in France over Christmas. Anthony had never seen his brother fall so hard. “I’m sorry about Marina, Colin. I am. That’s not an excuse to act like a complete and utter idiot and break the law.”
“It was an accident!” Colin snapped back, his voice rising in line with Anthony's. “What do you want me to do, Ant?”
“I just bailed you out of jail,” Anthony snapped, the anger he had been holding in finally coming out. He was racing home within the speed limit, the confinement of the car making him claustrophobic. “I made sure that that stayed off your permanent record so you didn’t get thrown out of university or asked about in job interviews. Instead of acting like a spoiled little brat you could be a little more grateful and shut up.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re right,” Anthony snapped, really focusing on not losing his head. “Yet I did it anyway.”
“I’m so fucking sorry I’m not perfect like you, Anthony,” Colin said, his voice full of venom as Anthony pulled up into the driveway. “That I’m not perfect like Ben, Daph, El, Franny or fuck it, Dad! I’m so sorry I don’t live up to your perfect expectations.”
“Oh shut up Colin,” Anthony snapped, his voice just as angry as Colin's. “You fucked up. I’m not interested in listening to your sob story to make yourself into a victim. Take some responsibility for once in your life.”
Anthony felt the guilt flood his body as he spoke to his brother. He knew he would be ashamed of himself later, he already was as the words sunk in. He was just so angry. Colin never took responsibility for anything and this was just another time he had gone too far and expected no consequences and Anthony to pick up the pieces.
“Fine,” Colin said, shaking his head as he flung the door open. “Here’s some responsibility for you. I’m dropping out of university.”
Then he slammed Anthony’s car door shut and all hell broke loose.
Anthony didn’t have anything left to say.
His fight with Colin, every insult and dagger he had thrown at him, circled around in his head and rang in his ears. He couldn’t find the words to speak as Kate drove them home. He wanted to say something, to put Kate at ease as she anxiously glanced at him the entire way home.
He just didn’t have anything left in him.
Colin’s words were on repeat in his head like a broken record.
“I don’t need to try to be a carbon copy of Dad to figure out my life. I’m not you, Anthony. Desperately trying to be someone he’ll never be.”
Colin was right.
Anthony sat down on the couch in his flat, his limbs heavy and deflated as the reality of his brother’s words hit him like a tonne of bricks.
He then did something that he hadn’t done since the day his father died, in his mother’s bedroom, away from his family.
He cried.
The sobs hit him like a wave and moved throughout his body, flooding out of him and everything he had been holding in for years. He cried for his dad, who he missed so much it killed him a little bit inside every single day. He cried for the man he desperately was trying to be but knew he never would. He cried for his family who had a gaping hole in it he could never fill. He cried for his family, who he tried so hard for but somehow always managed to fuck it up.
Anthony cried for everything that he had lost, everything that he was selfish enough to be angry about. Everyone he didn’t go, everything he didn’t do and everyone he didn’t meet because he had to step up.
He cried for Kate, the person who made him feel like he was worth something and that he was doing something right sometimes. He could never allow himself to let her know how he felt. He couldn’t do that to her.
Kate held him against her chest, her head resting on top of his as she moved her hand up and down his back, murmuring soothing words as he cried until nothing else could come out.
Anthony was surprised when Colin showed up at his flat the next morning. Kate had made him a cup of tea before putting Newton on his lead, throwing one final glare at Colin and a reassuring smile at Anthony before leaving their flat.
His flat.
His flat.
It was incredibly awkward, as both the Bridgerton men sat on Anthony’s couch in complete silence. Colin was tapping his foot against the ground, looking up at Anthony and back at the floor as his mouth opened and closed as he decided what to say.
“I’ve always liked Kate.”
That took Anthony by surprise. “Who wouldn’t?”
“For a second there,” Colin said, a half chuckle coming out of his mouth that was muffled by his pained expression. “I didn’t think she’d let me in.”
“As someone who has been on the wrong side of Kate many times,” Anthony said, smiling slightly as leaned back into the couch. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“She’s terrifying.”
“Absolutely petrifying,” Anthony said, nodding in agreement. “Don’t tell her I said that.”
“Do you hate me?”
Anthony’s head snapped up, the strange lightness of their conversation fading completely. “Of course I don’t hate you.”
“I’d hate me.”
Despite everything that had happened, Anthony was reminded of who was sitting right in front of him. Colin was so like their dad it hurt Anthony sometimes. He was fun, happy, irrational, spontaneous and he cared so passionately about the people in his life. He was also young and still trying to figure things out. He made mistakes. He had his heartbroken. He was just trying.
They were all just trying.
“I love you, Colin,” Anthony said firmly, because it was true and there wasn’t anything his brother could say to ever make Anthony think or feel otherwise. “There’s nothing that could ever happen to make me not love you. Okay? I only want what is best for you. I know how unreasonable I can be sometimes. Maybe I was wrong for thinking what was best for me is what is best for you. I just want you to be okay if something ever happened to me.”
Colin visibly gulped. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Ant. I’ll never be more sorry for what I said about Dad. I didn’t mean it. I am a horrible person for saying that to you. I’ll never forgive myself for it. I do mean this, though. You’re not Dad, Ant. You’re you. You don’t need to be Dad. You don’t need to be anyone else but you. Everyone needs you to be you. We all have gotten this far because you’re you, Ant. Not Dad. Not anyone. You.”
Anthony was absolutely speechless as he listened to Colin. Colin and him had clashed over the years but they were so alike in so many ways.
“I know I haven’t always made things easy on you. I think about him a lot. If he would be proud of me. I don’t think he would.”
“Of course he would,” Anthony said firmly, finally finding his voice. “There’s so much to be proud of. You’re a fantastic person, Colin. You annoy the shit out of me sometimes but you’re an incredible person.”
“I want you to be proud of me.” Colin’s voice was shaky as he spoke, the emotion of the situation finally coming to the surface.
“Colin,” Anthony said seriously, looking at his brother. “There’s no world where I’m not proud of you. You shouldn’t worry about what I think-”
“Anthony,” Colin said seriously, looking his brother in the eye for the first time that morning. “All I think about is what you think. You’re the voice inside of my head. Even if you sometimes annoy the shit out of me, I need you there. I know we all wouldn’t be okay if it wasn’t for you. I’m so sorry I haven’t shown you how much I appreciate that. I’m so sorry. I’ll never be more sorry for that.”
The large lump in Anthony’s throat was becoming extremely painful. “You don’t need to apologize-”
“I do and I am,” Colin said, standing up and moving towards Anthony. “I love you. You’re the type of person all of us can only hope we can be. You’re my big brother. I’m going to hug you now. It’s going to be awkward but I feel like it’s necessary.”
They wrapped their arms around each other, slapping each other’s backs and holding onto each other tightly.
They eventually pulled back, both turning their heads slightly to compose themselves and wipe their eyes with the back of their sleeves.
“That’s enough emotion for a lifetime,” Colin murmured, moving back to his original seat and letting out a sigh. “Beer?”
“Beer.”
Of all the places Anthony Bridgerton imagined himself to be at this point in his life, it wasn’t at his sisters and best friend’s engagement party.
Simon had surprised Anthony by showing up to his flat after him and Colin had sorted things out. Simon had kept a respectful distance since Anthony had found out about Daphne and him, not pushing Anthony into anything and forcing their friendship back to the place it was.
Instead, something else had happened. They were in a new place. They were starting off a clean slate. They were back to hanging out, playing golf, grabbing dinner and drinks. Anthony was his best man. He didn’t want to hold grudges anymore. He wanted his best friend back.
The past week had surprisingly been great. He had decided to put everything on hold with Kate and he had spent an unbelievable amount of time with her this week, going against every part of his initial plan. The only bad part of his week was moving Kate into her new flat. The flat felt so empty and lifeless without her.
He even missed Newton, which is something he’d keep to himself until his deathbed.
Simon joined him at the bar, smacking his back. “Good speech, mate.”
“Mm,” Anthony said, giving him a sarcastic grin as he finished off his whiskey. “I’m happy you enjoyed it.”
“It really came from the heart.”
“Let’s not get soppy,” Anthony said, nodding in thanks to the bartender as he topped up his whiskey glass. “I have just decided I can tolerate you again.”
“Please, I was your favourite person until Miss Kate Sheffield came along,” Simon teased, grinning at Anthony’s side-eye. “Not that I blame you. She’s really something.”
“Back to that speech though,” Simon said, his back to the bar as he surveyed the buzzing dance floor. “I don’t think it was us you were entirely talking about.”
Kate.
Anthony’s heart stopped in his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t,” Simon said, downing the rest of the contents of his glass with a gleeful smirk. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go dance with my fiance.”
Bastard.
His family really needed to learn to mind their own bloody business.
“Anthony.”
Anthony’s vision was fuzzy. He could hear a light buzzing in his ear. Kate’s words were still playing in his ears.
“Forget me. I don’t want to speak to you ever again.”
He couldn’t let this happen. He wouldn’t let this happen. He had tried so hard to protect them and it only ended with him fucking everything up so royally.
He felt like he wasn’t in control of his body, his eyes were stinging and his limbs were moving out of his own accord. He was bustling through the crowd, trying to find Kate who had disappeared into it.
“Anthony!”
Anthony barely heard his own name until someone grabbed his arm. Francesca.
“Did you know Michael was here?”
Anthony was still moving across the room, Francesca still beside him. “What?”
“Can you believe it?” Francesca said, her bottom lip sticking out as she shook her head in disbelief. More emotions were running across Francesca’s face than Anthony had ever seen in his life. “Ben invited him. John didn’t even know! Apparently he’s Ben's new protégé.”
“Fran, can you hold on a second?” Anthony said, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair, pulling at it. “I’m sorry. I-I need to find Kate. I have to find Kate.”
“Anthony,” Francesca said, her face flooding with concern as she steadied Anthony’s balance with her two hands on his arms. “What is going on? What happened?”
“Anthony.” Benedict had arrived, with Sophie beside him, an anxious look across his face.
“Piss off Ben,” Francesca snapped, her anger at her brother not fading in the slightest as she turned back to Anthony. “Anthony? What happened?”
“He’s asked to intern with me this summer! What was I meant to say Fran? I didn’t realize there was something going on between you-“
“There is nothing going on between us! I’m with John!” Francesca hissed, her anger momentarily shocking the two Bridgertons and Sophie. Francesca had always been calm, cool and collected. That wasn’t what was happening tonight. “I don’t need any relationship advice from someone who snuck around for over a year. Get off your pedestal.”
“It seems like Benedict can’t keep his nose out of anything.” Anthony spat out his brother’s name and didn’t care for Ben’s slight flinch. He needed someone else to blame.
He needed to find Kate.
“Someone had to do something!” Sophie snapped, her eyes completely on Anthony. “We’ve all watched this go on for years and it’s exhausting. Where’s Kate, Anthony?”
“What happened with Kate?” Francesca asked again, her eyes solely on Anthony.
“I was going to find her-“ Anthony said helplessly, his chest tightening which was making it hard to breathe. He had messed it up phenomenally. She was never going to forgive him. “It’s bad. We had a fight. A bad one.”
The meaning of his words seemed to translate as Sophie’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open slightly as she hastily turned to look around the room.
“I think you’ve done enough.” Sophie snapped, Anthony, Francesca and Benedict’s eyes were wide as they watched Sophie storm away in search of Kate.
“Ant-“
“It’s fine, Ben. I’m sorry I ruined your night. I have to go,” Anthony said, “This is my mess. I’ll fix it.”
“You don’t have to fix it alone.”
“I have to fix it with Kate.” Anthony said, charging through the rest of the crowd and searching everywhere for Kate. Benedict, Colin and Francesca were on his tail, trying to convince him to come inside and sit down and talk to them. He couldn’t. He tried her phone a million times that night but she didn’t pick up. He had to fix this.
Eventually, it was confirmed by Sophie that Kate had left the gallery. She had refused to let Sophie into her flat and that was as much as Anthony was told.
Kate was gone.
Anthony woke up with an excruciating headache and aching limbs. He grumbled as he sat up, feeling a hard exterior under him. He was sleeping in his old childhood bed.
The last time he had slept in this bed was the day before he had left university. The day before he met Kate and his life changed forever. He hated saying it, but it was true. His life had completely changed the minute he met and argued with Kate Sheffield and now-
Now he could have lost her forever.
“You’re up.”
Anthony jumped slightly as he saw Benedict and Colin standing at the foot of his bed, “Were you two watching me sleep? That’s creepy.”
“We were making sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit,” Benedict said carefully, a stern expression on his face but he cowered slightly as Anthony looked at him. Benedict had certainly meddled last night. “You drank a lot after Kate left.”
“I’d be impressed with how much you drank if it wasn’t because of such tragic circumstances,” Colin joked, failing to lighten the mood with a joke. “I made you some coffee.”
“Thanks.” Anthony said sourly, nodding at Colin but not appreciating the reminder of what a terrible person Anthony was. Kate had gone and he couldn’t cope, so he drank until he passed out.
Why did he open his stupid mouth and tell her about the kiss? Why didn’t he tell her he loved her back? Why did he try to explain to her why they would never work? It was the everything he had been telling himself again and again and when he had said the words out last night, they were meaningless and stupid. The only thing they had achieved was destroying them both.
What was wrong with him?
He couldn’t get the look of anguish on her face out of his head.
He had done the one thing he had sworn he would never do.
He had hurt her.
“I’m sorry about the gallery, Ben.” Anthony said, shaking his head in shame.
“I’m not,” Benedict said, shrugging as he leaned against the wall. “We sold all of my pieces. I knew what I was doing when I put that piece up there. I’m sorry, Anthony. I really am. I never wanted it to cause all this.”
“You didn’t cause any of this,” Anthony said, shaking his head and letting out a deep sigh. “I did.”
“No, he definitely caused this,” Colin said, completely ignoring Benedict’s glare. “That was a dick move. Ant and Kate were always going to come to blows and have it out but you just threw the toaster into the bathtub with that stunt.”
“Anthony got involved with my love life!” Benedict exclaimed, turning around to glare at his younger brother. “I wanted to help-”
“That’s because Ant is relatively okay at sorting out everyone else’s love life and is absolutely shocking at sorting out his own,” Colin said, shooting Anthony a cheeky grin who just glared back. “Tell us what happened.”
“I was furious about the picture.” Anthony said slowly, not wanting to relive the events of last night ever again. He would have to, everytime he told this story and when he saw Kate again. If he saw her again. She had never responded to any of his calls or messages last night and he hadn’t tried again this morning.
He didn’t want to hurt her further by harassing her.
Anthony needed to see her and speak to her.
“I was acting really unfairly. We started arguing. I said some things. Kate said some things. I said something really stupid,” Anthony said, letting out a deep breath before he continued. “Kate told me she was in love with me. I didn’t say it back. I told her I remembered that kiss I had pretended to forget on my birthday last year. She told me she never wanted to speak to me again.”
“That,” Colin was the first one to speak, “That is a lot worse than I imagined.”
“Helpful Colin,” Benedict said dryly, sitting down on the bed beside Anthony and patting his shoulder. “You messed up. Yes. Kate is hurt. She’ll forgive you. You’re Kate and Anthony. You can fix this.”
“I don’t know, Ben. I’ve never seen that look on her face before. She won’t speak to me,” Anthony said, falling back onto the bed and feeling utterly hopeless. “She’s never going to forgive me. I don’t know what to say.”
Benedict bit his lip, nodding his head. “Ant, you’ve never been able to talk to us the way you’ve been able to talk to Kate.”
“The one person you can talk to won’t talk to you.” Colin said slowly, as if he was putting something together in his head.
Anthony and Benedict both turned towards Colin and raised an eyebrow.
Colin’s face lit up, as if he had just won the lottery. He grinned widely at his two brothers, who looked at him suspiciously. “I have an idea.”
Colin’s brilliant idea was therapy.
Apparently, Colin had a heart to heart with Penelope Fetherington the morning after their argument. Penelope and Eloise were studying together for the day at their house and Eloise had left Penelope in the kitchen with Colin whilst she went off for a shower.
Eloise had not been talking to Colin after the argument, which led to his and Penelope’s strange but heartfelt conversation.
Penelope recommended Colin go to therapy.
That’s how Anthony ended up taking Colin’s therapy appointment at 10am that Saturday morning.
“Why are you here today, Anthony?”
Anthony hadn’t been to therapy since university. It wasn’t for this reason. He had been stressed, having bad panic attacks and feeling overwhelmed by everything. He was back again, for similar but different reasons.
“My brothers thought it would be good if I spoke to someone.” Anthony answered honestly, not feeling entirely comfortable to open up to a complete stranger whose office he had walked into two minutes ago.
“Do you think you need to be here?” His therapist asked, scribbling something down in her notebook.
“I suppose so. No. Yes, I do. I do think so,” Anthony said, scrambling over his words before he sat up straighter in his seat. “I do. It’s what Kate would tell me to do.”
“Who is Kate?”
“Kate is my best friend,” Anthony said instinctively, the meaning of the words hitting him a few seconds later. “Well.”
“Well?���
“It’s complicated.”
His therapist looked straight at him, giving him a friendly but stern smile. “I’m trained in complicated.”
“We’re not currently speaking,” Anthony said slowly, deciding to just let it all out. This is what therapy was for, right? He could be honest for once in my life. “It’s all my fault.”
“How long has it been?” His therapist asked, glancing at the round clock on her wall.
“About 12 hours?”
“Okay.”
“That’s really strange for us,” Anthony hastily explained, quickly feeling embarrassed about the situation and if he was appearing overdramatic. “We talk all the time. We lived together up until last week.
His therapist continued to write down a few sentences, the scraping of the pen against her paper making Anthony’s skin itch. “Tell me what happened.”
“It was a bad argument,” Anthony began, the memories of last night filling him with a heavy dread. “My brother had put a picture of us, multiple pictures of us, on display in a gallery. I panicked and I reacted badly. We both said hurtful things. The worst we’ve ever had. She told me she was in love with me. I told her I remembered our kiss I pretended to forget over a year ago. It ended with her telling me she never wanted to see me again.”
“Do you love her back?”
The question caught Anthony completely off guard. This was the most honest he had been in a very long time and his therapist was brushing over a lot of details, focusing on particular ones. “No, I do.”
“But you didn’t tell her that?”
“No.”
“Hmm,” His therapist said, nodding her head as she continued to scribble down a few sentences. “That is complicated. Could you tell me about your parents?”
Anthony’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t face that today. When he had gone to therapy previously, they had sometimes spoken about his parents, mainly his father. Anthony didn’t have the strength. “I don’t want to talk about my father. I need to know what to say to Kate.”
“That’s okay,” She said, nodding her head slowly. “You have every right to not answer this question and I will drop it. Why do you not want to talk about your father?”
“He died when I was eighteen.” Anthony explained, figuring it would come out sooner or later.
“That must have been difficult.”
“It was.” Anthony’s words were caught between his teeth.
“Do you have any siblings?”
“I have seven,” Anthony answered, cracking his knuckles in his lap. “I’m the eldest.”
“I can imagine that’s a lot of responsibility at the age of eighteen,” She said slowly, as if she was trying to figure something out. “Especially when suffering from such a loss.”
“It is,” Anthony said, avoiding her eyes completely as he looked around the room. He didn’t want to talk about his family. That’s not why he came. “It’s my family. I’d do anything for them.”
“Why do you think you don’t deserve love?”
Anthony gaped at her. “I don’t think that.”
“If you were willing to step up and take responsibility for your family and ensure their happiness,” She said, leaning forward in her chair. “Why can’t you do the same for yourself?”
“I don’t want to lose her,” Anthony said, his voice coming out a lot shakier and lower than it had in a long time. “She’s everything to me. Everything. I screw things up. I’ve never been good with relationships. I desperately tried to not screw things up and I did it anyway. I really tried to stop feeling like this. I even went to America to stop feeling like this and try to find someone new. It just always comes back to this and now-now it’s too late.”
“This is terribly cliche, but it’s the truth. It’s never too late and you will never know until you try. Why are you so sure you and Kate will fail? I say you and Kate as there are two of you in this. It seems like you put a lot of pressure on yourself. When it comes to your family and your relationships.” Her words were hitting Anthony forcefully, completely overwhelming him. “You should try giving yourself a chance.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“You are standing in your own way. Why is that?”
He was getting really sick of all these questions.
“Kate deserves better.”
His therapist raised her eyebrow slightly, “Isn’t that for Kate to decide?”
Anthony had no response to that.
“Anthony, we have absolutely no control over what could happen in the future. Our fears will still exist in the past, present and future. What we can try to control is now. Good and bad things happen everyday. Nothing also happens everyday. Nothing sounds quite exhausting, don’t you think?”
“Sometimes it is easier to do nothing. Sometimes, we have to take a chance on the good or bad things happening,” She told him, smiling softly at him. “Sometimes, we just need to take that chance.”
Something just clicked.
He had to take that chance.
“I have to go,” Anthony jumped up, running a hand through his hair and slightly waving the other one around. “I have to talk to Kate. If she’ll talk to me, I’ll take that chance. Right? Right. Yes. Wow. Okay. Thank you, doctor. Thank you-”
“I’ll have my assistant book you in for an appointment next week,” His therapist responded, a slight smile on her face as she stood up to open the door for him. “Good luck, Anthony.”
Colin and Benedict stood up as Anthony walked into the waiting room, curious expressions on their faces.
“I have to tell Kate I’m in love with her.”
Anthony glanced down at his phone, which began buzzing his hand. Edwina’s name flashed on his screen.
Anthony answered the call, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Maybe it was Kate. Maybe she had lost her phone and that’s why she hadn’t been in contact with him last night. “Edwina?”
“Anthony,” Edwina’s shaky voice spoke through the phone, sending cold shivers down Anthony’s spine. “It’s Kate.”
Anthony had burst through the hospital doors, running up stairs and through doors until he found the room Kate was in after multiple directions from nurses, Colin and Benedict hot on his heels.
Edwina had reassured him that Kate was fine. Her brain scans and other injuries had come back completely clear, the worst thing that had happened was her leg had been broken.
He had to see her. He had to see her alive and breathing. He had to make sure she was okay.
“Kate.”
Anthony had never felt so nauseous and anxious in his entire life.
“Are you okay?”
Kate was there, sitting up in her hospital bed with her casted leg elevated in the air. She didn’t appear to have any other injuries, her dark hair was in a bun on the top of her head and she did have some scrapes and bruises along her arms, and a tiny scratch on her cheek.
“That's none of your business.”
That was the response he expected and it hurt just as he expected. He did deserve it.
“Kate was skating in Hyde Park when a cyclist ran into her, and she landed on her leg," Edwina explained carefully, anxiously glancing between Anthony and Kate. Benedict and Colin were behind Anthony, smiling awkwardly at everyone in the room and shooting a relieved expression at Kate. She smiled back at them, at least she wasn't icing them out.
Kate just refused to look at Anthony. “Get out.”
“We’re going to get some coffee in the canteen.” said Mary, beginning to drag an anxious looking Edwina out of the hospital room.
“Don’t you dare,” Kate snapped, raising her voice at her mother and sister. She pointed at the chairs they just vacated. “Anthony is the only one who will be leaving this hospital room.”
What did he expect? She had every right to be furious with him. It wasn't going to be easy and he would do whatever it took to fix this. To fix them. “I’ll wait in the waiting room until you want to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
He nodded, making his way towards the doorway he had only come through. He knew Kate and pushing her wasn’t going to achieve anything. He had fucked up and he had to fix it in the way she wanted him to. “I’ll just be waiting then.”
And waited, he did.
He waited for two weeks until Kate was released from the hospital.
He tried everything. He had taken the time off work to be there during visiting hours, waiting for her to finally let him speak to her. He had drafted about fifty different speeches before she was released, thinking about everything he had spoken about with his therapist. He went to two more sessions during Kate’s stay and he felt something was really changing.
Except for Kate’s willingness to speak to him.
When he knocked on her door, she told him to get lost. When he brought her flowers, she threw them at him. When he brought her food, she wouldn’t touch it. She ignored his texts and calls.
She had every right to make him suffer and she was doing a superb job at it.
He spent his time on business calls or chatting with whoever was visiting Kate. Every Bridgerton but Anthony had been allowed in. He got to know her nurses and doctors, getting updates on Kate’s progress and asking them questions about her leg and the healing process.
Mary sat beside Anthony in the waiting room one afternoon, handing him a cup of coffee. “Thank you.”
“I started worrying less, you know.”
Anthony turns to look at Mary, frowning in confusion.
“Kate is a very good person. She takes care of people. She took care of Edwina and I more than she should have, especially after my husband died.” A sad expression appeared on her face. “My husband always said Kate tried to take care of him when her mother passed away. She was four years old.”
He smiled sadly, taking a small sip of his coffee. “That sounds like Kate.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Mary nodded her head, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. “I always wanted that for her. Someone who would take care of her and she would let them. I wasn’t so sure it would ever happen until she brought you home.”
Anthony blinked at Mary, completely taken aback. He had known Mary for eight years now and they had spent a good bit of time together, but he couldn’t remember ever speaking to her alone. Especially like this.
“I knew she finally had someone to take care of her. You’ve been so good to her.”
“I don’t know if she’ll forgive me this time Mary,” Anthony said, his voice croaky as he hung his head low. “I don’t know if I deserve to be forgiven.”
“Kate didn’t talk to her father and I for two weeks because we didn’t let her go to an Eminem concert when she was twelve years old,” Mary said, chuckling softly at the fond memory. “She will come around.”
“We all make mistakes, Anthony. I don’t know what happened between you two,” Mary said softly, reaching over to squeeze his hands. “I do know you’ll be able to fix yours.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Kate,” Edwina said, exhaustion flooding her voice as she pushed Kate’s wheelchair to a stop in front of the exit of the hospital. “Anthony’s car is the only car big enough to bring you home! You’re meant to lie across the back seat.”
Kate was glaring at Anthony with such an intensity, he was genuinely terrified. She was absolutely furious at the prospect of Anthony driving her home. “I’d rather walk.”
“I suppose you should have thought about that before you went skating on those death traps,” Anthony said, deciding that if she wouldn’t talk to him, he might be able to at least get an insult if he winded her up. Then, she would technically have spoken to him. “Hop on in.”
Kate’s mouth dropped open as she watched Anthony open up his back door, which had been filled with blankets and pillows to help Kate get comfortable. She knew she had no choice. The two nurses helped Kate into the backseat, buckling her in as Edwina got into Anthony’s car. Mary was following them home.
Kate, furious about recent events, was sulking in the back seat.
Edwina and Sophie hadn’t been overly kind to Anthony the first week after Kate’s accident. He didn’t blame them, he deserved every single bit of slack he got for what he’d done. They had eased up on him the last week, probably out of pure pity as he desperately tried to fix things with Kate who so far wanted nothing to do with him.
They finished their awkward car ride once Anthony parked in Kate’s flat’s underground car park. Now the fun really began. He would make himself useful in any way he could to help Kate, so Edwina and Mary had asked him to drive her home once he had offered.
“Kate,” Edwina said slowly, clearly nervous about what she was about to say as she opened her sister’s door. “Mum and I aren’t strong enough to get you out of the car.”
“Whose side are you on?” Kate snapped, realizing exactly what was going on. “There’s not a chance in hell-”
“I am on your leg’s side!” Edwina snapped, everyone’s eyes widening as Edwina’s temper flared. It was a rare sight. “I am losing the will to live here, Kate. Just let Anthony carry you upstairs and you can do whatever you want. Throw anything you want at him for all I care. Just get upstairs.”
Anthony leaned into the back seat, carefully moving Kate and her leg towards the edge of the seat. They were so close, his arms wrapped around her. If he looked at her, he could count the freckles sprawled across her nose and cheek and how many eyelashes she had. He had done it a million times before.
Except he couldn’t.
Kate refused to look at him.
He got her out of the car until she could support herself on her crutches, making her way towards the lifts. Anthony, Edwina and Mary brought all of her bags upstairs to her flat. Anthony had stocked her fridge and cupboards with all her favourite things and had gotten it professionally cleaned yesterday. He also had about five bouquets of tulips in each room.
“Simon dropped in some food from his restaurant,” Edwina said, smiling softly as she began to unpack the bag. “Thank god. I’m starving. Anthony?”
“I’ll go.” Anthony said, shaking his head as he headed towards the door after dropping the last bag on the floor. The hope he had of fixing things with Kate was really starting to diminish. She really despised him.
She wouldn’t even look at him.
Kate waved a crutch in his direction. It was the first time she had spoken to only him directly in over two weeks. “Stop getting me tulips!”
Anthony turned around to look at her, shaking his head simply. “No.”
“We are going to go out for a walk,” Mary suggested loudly, tugging at Edwina who gaped at her mother in disbelief and then glanced back down at the food. The two Sheffields practically ran out of Kate’s flat, bag of food in their hand, and surprisingly weren’t stopped by Kate.
This was his chance.
“How are you?”
Kate’s hard glare hadn’t faded. “Why do you care?”
He visibly softened. “Of course I care.”
“I don’t think you do, actually,” Kate snapped, aggressively fluffing the pillows behind her back where she sat on her grey couch. “I thought you cared until I realized what you had done. I thought you cared until I stood there telling you I loved you and all you did was tell me that you had lied to me and how we would never work. I never expected you to love me back, what did I expect was some-”
“Are you on drugs?”
“Excuse me?” Kate’s voice was almost a shriek.
Anthony had to really stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I can’t say this if you’re in any way inebriated.”
“No,” Kate muttered, crossing her arms across her chest, “I still despise you, so I’m of sound mind.”
“I should have kissed you. That night. When we were at Aubrey Hall. Seven years ago. I should have kissed you in the lake. I should have kissed you at the Law Ball in college. I should have kissed you when we were in Spain. When we were in my dorm. Your dorm. In the morning. In the afternoon. In the evening. There were so many times where I should have kissed you, Kate.”
“You did kiss me,” Kate spat out, tears flooding her eyes that made Anthony’s chest clench. “You kissed me and you pretended that you didn’t remember.”
“I’m an idiot. I’m a fool. There’s no rational explanation for why I did it. I was so scared of losing you, Kate. But I lost you anyway. I’ll never be more sorry for that, Kate.” Anthony took a few tentative steps towards her, crouching down so he was at her eye level. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. Please, just listen to me. I’ll leave you alone afterwards if that’s what you want.”
“I was on my way to yours when Edwina rang me,” Anthony said, trying to remember everything he had wanted to say and had written down so many times. “I was on my way to tell you I was in love with you. I was an asshole, the night of the gallery. A complete asshole. I panicked. I saw everything on that bloody picture that I have wanted and dreamed of for years, and I panicked. I was so scared of losing what we had that I was too scared to take the chance on having something more.”
Kate stared at him with her wide brown eyes, the ones he had missed so bloody much. He had missed everything about her and now he was here and he was trying. He was desperately trying and he had no idea if it would be enough. “What are you trying to say, Anthony?”
“I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since I was nineteen years old. I’ve denied it and denied it, because I’m screwed up, and I know you deserve better than me, but it's always been you Kate. It will always be you. I was terrified of screwing things up and losing you because I can’t live without you Kate. I don’t ever want to. You’re my best friend. You’re my person.”
“When I heard you were hurt and there was a chance that I could lose you-I can’t fathom life without you, Kate.” Anthony’s voice broke off as he spoke, his voice choking on air. “I can’t. I don’t want to. All I want is you, Kate. I’ll do anything to prove that to you. I’m all in. If you’ll have me.”
“Why do you get to decide?”
Anthony blinked at her through his watery eyes, hastily wiping them. He had finally said everything he wanted to say and the biggest weight had been taken off his chest. The anxiety of waiting on Kate’s response still clawed at him. “What?”
“Why do you get to decide that I deserve better than you?” Kate asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked at him.
“I don’t know,” He answered honestly, shaking his head as he leaned against the couch. “It wasn’t that I decided. It was just so obvious to me. You deserve everything, Kate. Everything. That isn’t me. All I can do is try-”
“No.”
His heart stopped in his chest, a rigid stance completely taken over. Was this it? Was Kate ending things forever? Has he lost for her good?
“You should have asked me.”
Anthony couldn’t help the sigh of relief that came out of him. “I know.”
“I’ve always been smarter than you.”
He smiled softly, nodding his head. “That’s debatable.”
“Do you always have to have an answer for everything?” She asked, completely exasperated, but there wasn’t any annoyance detected in her tone. It was almost teasing.
“I suppose,” He said slowly, his eyes never moving off hers. “Some things never changed.”
“No,” She said softly, her eyes moving around his face. “They really don’t.”
“I should have asked you too,” Kate added a few seconds later, visibly gulping as she pushed some of the loose strands of hair in front of her face behind her ears.
“I’m still so mad at you,” She murmured, blinking away a few tears that rolled down her red cheeks. “I’m so mad. I’m not going to suddenly stop being mad because you’re in love with me and I’m in love with you. We’re going to have to work at this. It isn’t going to be easy.”
“I deserve it.” He nodded in agreement, not being able to stop the small smile breaking out on his face as she said she loved him. “I know. I’ll do anything, Kate. Anything.”
She loved him.
She loved him.
Kate was in love with him.
“Hold my hand.” She murmured, extending her fingers towards him. Their fingers interlock smoothly, her soft, petite palm and his large, rougher hand against each other.
“If you had asked me,” Kate said, her voice coming out wobbly as she spoke. “I would have told you that you’re it for me. It’s always been you. From the moment I met you, it was always going to be you. I didn’t stand a chance. It’s not about deserving, Anthony. It’s about being there for someone no matter what. You’ve always been there for me. And I always want you to be.”
Their faces were extremely close now. He could smell her again, that soft scene of lilies and soap that he had missed so much. He could count the freckles on her cheek and her long, delicate eyelashes. His lips are “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“Us,” Kate corrected him, her breathing small and shallow. “It only took us eight years.”
“This isn’t how I imagined it.”
“I’m so tired of imagining, aren’t you?”
He kisses her.
It’s better than he’s ever imagined it.
Why?
Because it’s real.
#the story of us#bridgerton#kate sheffield#anthony bridgerton#kate x anthony#ao3#fanfiction#the end is finally here!#benedict bridgerton#sophie beckett#edwina sheffield#hyacinth bridgerton#gregory bridgerton#colin bridgerton
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ashes, ashes.
10.8k | AO3 link | tags/tws: intrulogical, serial killer/deity of death au, lots of death (murder, mentions of a previous suicide attempt, and brief descriptions of animal death), injury, violence, swearing, morally grey characters, crime.
““You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” Logan blurted out with a start, eyes wide and looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-
“Mamma always told me I was special.” Remus replied with a woozy grin, leaving back against the cool bricks of the alleyway. Seeing things that weren’t there was a new level of fucked-up for his brain, but hopefully that was just a side effect of hitting his head and not something he’d have to take pills for later. Either way, at least this spectre was pretty to look at. Trauma had its benefits.
“You think a deity of death is pretty?” Logan asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.””
(aka: remus chases death like it's his favourite pastime, since it means he gets to see logan again. understandably, logan has some objections to this.)
--------------
Case 1: the man in the alley.
The first time Remus and Logan met, it was more or less a complete accident.
As a part-time warehouse operative slash freelance artist, Remus had a lot of free time between jobs, and one of the things he enjoyed doing most while waiting for his next gig to come around was spray-painting obscene images into the side of alleys.
His latest project was a 7-foot tall purple unicorn with generous proportions. Pretty tasteful by his standards, all things considered.
If nothing else, the piece of work would give passers-by a topic of conversation, and that was always something Remus aimed to inspire with his art. These topics, however, often happened to be the ‘why’ variety. Most commonly, the old classic (and his personal favourite): ‘why are you like this?’.
Regrettably, the evening passed pretty quickly with no curious pedestrians passing by his alley and starting up such a conversation. By the time Remus finished, it was past midnight and by now the only people around were the regular nightlife-- primarily the local college kids who had recently come home and were enjoying their break from classes, and adults like himself who were trying to chase away their loneliness with some other kind of high.
...Woo, and that’s enough depressing thoughts for tonight. Remus declared to himself. After all, he had a new piece to admire! Stepping back, he spent a moment taking in the completed artwork by the light of his phone’s torch before deciding it was as perfect as it could get. He’d come back later and get a picture during the daytime to show off to his friends, so for now he begun preparing to leave by packing his paint cans into his backpack.
It was when he had collected the last can of magenta from the ground that he felt something grab the back of his coat hood. Remus had no time to process the fact that someone had snuck into the alleyway before he was shoved against the same wall he'd painted his mural on, coming face-to-face with a hooded man waving a rather pathetic-looking pocket knife at him.
“Give me your money. Now.” The man demanded.
Remus blinked in delayed surprise. Usually he was the one being the creep in the alleyway. He had never expected to come across an actual creep. Heck, this situation felt like it was pulled straight out of an old PSA with how stereotypical it was.
“What?” He blurted out unthinkingly, because of that exact train of thought.
“You heard me! I want you to get your wallet and hand over everything you’ve got.”
What an unfortunate victim this man has chosen.
“You think I have any money to my name? I’m practically the starving artist every parent warns their kid about becoming.” Remus said with a huff of amusement.
“Don’t try to bullshit me!” The hand clutching the front of his coat tugged him forward before violently slamming him back against the bricks. The back of Remus’ head ricochetted off them roughly with the sudden movement, and the small grin he had been wearing quickly faded with flash of pain and the realization he may actually be in trouble.
“I saw the paint you’ve got in your bag,” The man continued over his dawning concern. “Somebody who’s broke wouldn’t have all that.”
Remus’ thoughts halted for a second. His bag…! He knew the paint can he was holding onto for dear life wouldn’t do much in the way of self-defense given that it was practically empty, but a whole bag of them? Hitting this guy with that much weight would make him think twice about trying to stab him, at least.
“Okay, okay. You got me, I’m rich as hell. Just let me get it, alright? My wallet's in there.”
The man gave him a skeptical look, but stepped back slightly, continuing to hold the weapon in his direction. “I know how to throw knives. Try to run and you’ll have a hole in your back quicker than an onset stroke.”
Yikes, and Remus thought he was bad at metaphors. He didn’t even need Virgil here to tell him that that made no sense. Still, he grinned placatingly. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye: I won’t run.”
Finally, bad-metaphor guy let down his guard and allowed Remus to side-step around him. He walked a few paces towards where he dropped his backpack in his initial shock, putting the magenta spray in before he picked it up by the straps. True to his word, he didn't run; instead he swung around on his heel, slamming the full force of his hardback sketchbooks and cans of spray paint into the face of the hooded man.
He instantly dropped his knife, falling backwards and clutching his nose as blood erupted from it. Under the low-lighting of the street lamp, Remus was transfixed for a second, feeling like he was in one of those gritty r-rated movies he watched with his babysitter as a kid. The moment was ruined when he realized that 1) the man was approaching again very quickly, and 2) he couldn’t get the momentum quick enough to swing his bag around and hit him a second time.
Before he knew it, Remus had accidentally let go of the makeshift weapon when he was tackled to the ground, wind completely knocked out of him as the two of them collided against cobblestone moistened with rain.
“You fucking bastard.” The guy hissed furiously. His voice was nasally now that his nose was crooked and broken-looking, and Remus almost wanted to poke fun of him for it until he felt two hands wrap around his throat and start to choke him. “‘Could’ve just made things easy, but now you’re gonna die with all the other trash.”
Why? Remus wanted to ask. Over the 7 dollars and 15 cents he had?
But as he tried to tear away the vice grip on his neck, he couldn’t find the voice to talk back, even though the seriousness of the situation was hitting him like a freight train. Maybe it was his own fault for escalating things instead of playing along. Go figure, he had overestimated his own abilities after years being the off-putting one; the person others thought they had to watch over their shoulder for. Either that, or maybe it was the fact that his wallet carried more sentimental value with it than monetary. It was small and made of orange ducktape, but it carried so many things that Remus wanted to protect; a photo of his family, one of Virgil's guitar picks, the ticket to the last Tenacious D he went to, and of course, the receipt for his first condom purchase.
His mind flashed to his friends and family, and he wondered how they’d feel about this; him dying because of some dumb robber in a dumb alleyway because he was painting his dumb artwork. That was hardly the kind of death one could look back on and regard with pride (Hell if it wasn't funny to imagine how everyone will react to the news, though). But as he focused on the face above him, he realized with some panic that the grip wasn’t loosening, even as he could feel his lungs burn and a near-soothing feeling telling him to just let go.
As a final act of desperation to save himself from becoming a wholly embarrassing funeral eulogy instead of having a rockstar’s death in his 40s like he always imagined for himself, he patted the ground frantically, looking for a loose rock or something to stop this with. That’s when he felt it; the slightly warm plastic handle of the knife the guy had been holding. Remus’ heart pounded as he realized what he needed to do, and he barely even considered the repercussions of the action before he was plunging the knife into the side of the guy’s neck.
Finally, the grip around his throat loosened as the guy gasped, his expression flickering back and forth between anger and shock. Remus ripped the knife away, inhaling air greedily when the sudden action caused the man to loosen his grip and move off of him, trying to cover the stab wound with his hands and failing.
Remus quickly scrambled back and pulled himself up the wall, watching and waiting for the guy to fall still. He did, after what felt like a few minutes, and Remus didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. He’d just killed a man. It was self-defence, but still… even the morbid thoughts he had over the years couldn't have prepared him for what it would have actually felt like to go through with any of it.
In that moment of pause, his injuries caught up with him as both his head and neck begun to ache. He was so disoriented that he barely even noticed the third person standing in the alley until they spoke up.
“Well. I didn’t see that coming.”
Remus snapped his head towards the source of the voice, and immediately regretted it when the hasty motion made him dizzy. The only reason he didn’t immediately jump into fight mode was because of the unusually casual way the voice had spoken. Beyond that, the figure he saw standing a short distance away didn’t really… look like a regular person. Beyond the odd formal clothing that had no discernable modern style to it and the shock of white hair that could only be achieved with hella bleach, his skin was a cool grey like a cadaver and he had a ghostly appearance to him; transparent and misty around the edges.
Definitely not the sort of thing Remus expected to see, but he was always one to accommodate the unexpected.
“...You and me both. My only goal for today was to draw unicorn porn.” Remus replied lightly, once he decided it wouldn't hurt to entertain whatever was currently happening.
The figure turned, startling at the sight of Remus staring directly at him.
“You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” He blurted out with wide eyes, looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-
“Mamma always told me I was special.” Remus replied with a woozy grin, leaving back against the cool bricks of the alleyway. Seeing things that weren’t there was a new level of fucked-up for his brain, but hopefully that was just a side effect of hitting his head and not something he’d have to take pills for later. Either way, at least this spectre was pretty to look at. Trauma had its benefits.
“You think a deity of death is pretty?” The man (deity???) asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.”
"I can't believe my own brain is kinkshaming me." Remus whined, slipping down slightly as the worn-down soles of his boots lost their grip on the concrete for a second.
Death frowned, until a metaphorical lightbulb lit over his head. "Ah- you think you're hallucinating. Well, that's not an unfair assumption. Keep believing it, by all means."
"That doesn't sound like something a hallucination would say." Remus pointed out.
"Well then, I'll gladly prove my non-existence by disappearing." Death said as he took a step towards the body.
"Wait!" Remus called before he could figure out why. The ghostly figure stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Remus’ composure slipped as his eyes darted between the body and Death. "I...I need to know that this is real. That I'm not making this up. This feels like something I'd dream, but…"
His hand clenched around the knife, feeling the squelch of blood and the tremor of his hand. Despite the mixed signals he was currently getting on the state of his sanity, it felt solid and real, and Remus wasn’t sure what to make of that.
"Fuck. Please tell me! Am I being as messed up as usual or did I really just kill someone?"
Death’s eyes softened. "You did. This is real."
"Well shit. Okay…" Remus looked back at the body with a deep resignation. He wondered if he should do something about that. Probably not; that would look even more incriminating.
"...If it makes you feel better, he has hurt people in situations like this before, and completely unnecessarily; his only motive was to achieve a rush.”
That did make Remus feel better, actually.
"Good. I’m glad I killed a piece of shit and not someone down on their luck." Remus sighed, eyeing the spectral figure. "Speaking of, if this is real, then I guess that means you are too right?"
Any sympathy on Death's place quickly faded as he was caught out. "Erm-"
"It's cool." Remus leaned his head back again. "Talking to a cute ghost man? Sounds like a typical Thursday night for me."
Actually, this was the furthest thing from a typical Thursday night for Remus, but he didn’t want to admit that to the cute ghost man and risk looking uncool.
"You shouldn't get acquainted with it. Seeing me is hardly a good thing." Death replied, though his cheeks were distinctly a darker grey.
"Aww- don't sell yourself short. I love your work!" Remus waved away vaguely. He always had a strange relationship with death in a way that others didn’t; always the first to laugh at a funeral or smile instead of grieve. That was probably why he felt so comfortable right now. “Besides, we’ll all be food for the dirt and worms eventually, anyway. Why get uncomfortable with it?"
Death met his eyes again, seeming slightly more firm. “Perish those thoughts, it's hardly your time yet."
Remus pouted. "It's still inevitable, though. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy I didn’t die today and got to meet you instead, but what’s so bad about something that’s going to happen either way?”
“I’m starting to think I was right by judging your attitude as a red flag.” Death muttered.
“But I'm right aren't I?” Remus prodded.
“Indeed.” Death begrudgingly conceded. “And do you know just how inevitable it is? Approximately 2 people die per second; 106 per minute. There have been 6435 events of armed conflict in the past year alone, and over 690 million people who are undernourished as we speak. Beyond that, there are even more people losing their lives to case-by-case natural events and incidents. So if you’d be so kind, do not be so eager to create more work for me.”
Remus absorbed that information, tilting his head. “Despite all that, you’re still here?”
“...I am.” Death agreed after a heavy pause, in the same manner most would admit their own defeat. “I’ll admit, I’m not used to… talking so much. It’s an unusual feeling, but it’s been pleasant, I suppose.”
“Death likes my company.” Remus laughed. “That’s gotta be saying something.”
Death rolled his eyes. “My name is Logan, not Death.”
“Huh. I’m Remus.” Remus replied, a little baffled. He didn’t expect a deity to have such a normal name.
“Remus ‘Tsukio’ Kaneshiro, I already know of you. We’ve met before.”
Remus’ bafflement only grew. “We have? I think I’d remember meeting someone like you.”
“You wouldn't; you were unconscious. It was after you overdosed on cold medicine. Thankfully your parents got you to the hospital on time before I could do my job, but I remember it being a close call.” Logan looked at him knowingly.
“...Oh.” Remus laughed nervously. He definitely remembered that. Finding out you could overdose on a lot of common household items was pretty dangerous for him to learn as a teenager, and he’d never forget how furious his entire family was with him for being so reckless. He never knew how to tell them that it wasn’t quite the accident they assumed it to be (needless to say, his adolescent years were pretty shitty to him, being the outsider in this town in more ways than one). Thankfully, the taste of cold medicine had become too repulsive for him to try anything like that again.
“...I am glad you’re alright. It’s always unfortunate when a life ends too soon.”
“Well…thanks. This has been pretty trippy, so I’m glad I met you too, Logan.”
Logan hummed and looked towards the end on the alleyway. “By the way, you should think about leaving soon. There’s a group of people approaching us.”
Shit, Remus had almost forgotten that he had just committed a crime. Given how awful this scene looked, there was a big chance he’d get thrown into jail for this if he got caught. But at the same time, he was almost hesitant to leave behind the spectre that had enchanted his heart within a few minutes, even if his mind was still trying to catch up with the overload of information.
“Why would you help me?” He asked quickly and somewhat suspiciously.
Just as Logan finished his business with the body, he looked at him over his shoulder with an almost sly expression. “You seem interesting, Remus. I’d hate for you to lose your life over someone so unworthy of one.”
And with that, Logan disappeared like a cloud of fog. Remus stood there transfixed, until he remembered Logan’s warnings and snatched up his bag, shoving the knife into his pocket and dashing into the night.
--------------
Case 2: the man who couldn't leave well enough alone.
The next time Remus and Logan met, it was slightly less of an accident, but fuck if the guy didn’t deserve it.
When Remus got home after the night he first saw Logan, he was more grateful than ever that he lived in such a run-down part of town. There were barely any security cameras to look out for, let alone people who were willing to be out during the early hours of the morning.
He was able to slip into his apartment complex unseen, avoiding his early-bird roommate long enough to wash away his crimes in the shower.
After that, he fell into his bed, completely unable to process everything that had just happened. So instead he fell asleep and left the deep thinking to his future self.
As expected, he needed plenty of time to collect his thoughts. First of all, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing because after weeks and months of taking it as easy as possible, he hadn’t seen anything else as strange as a personification of death named Logan. Logan...what kind of name even was that? It felt like the name of a teacher, not something that should be as grim and macabre as Remus himself.
But that was the other thing; Remus couldn’t get the thought of Logan out of his head. He was like the angel who had come down to bless him in a moment of weakness, saving him from further misfortune. He knew he had little to no chance of seeing their deity again, but that didn’t stop him from plaguing his mind constantly.
Remus figured the best chance he’d probably get at seeing Logan again was to become involved with death once more. His mind immediately jumped to animals, the easiest targets; he pictured slipping into a farm late at night and slitting the throat of one of the sheep, going to a pet store and buying a hamster for the night before ‘accidentally’ leaving it in a box to suffocate, picking up a stray from the street and snapping its neck quickly. But just as soon as those thoughts came to him, he waved them away with a grimace. He wouldn’t be able to go through with any of that, even for Logan.
People had always talked about him like he was a serial killer in training. They would keep a wary eye when he picked up sharp objects and ask his brother if Remus had ever hurt one of their pets as kids, as if because he had unconventional ideas, he was a complete sadist towards the innocent. (And yes, perhaps he did have thoughts of that nature too, but they’d always fill him with sickness because he fucking loved the pet dogs they had as kids, damn it). In any case, he knew that going through with those ideas would only be proving those people right, that he was a dangerous individual who’d murder an innocent creature just for someone his brain maybe made up.
...Perhaps he was losing his mind after all. What was he doing, plotting out the best way to see Death? If anyone else could hear his thoughts, they’d think him half-mad or suicidal. It seemed like the best thing so do was to try to push this out of his mind, so eventually, that's what he did. He wasn’t so good at that usually; his mouth ran a mile a minute and the people who knew him would often say that his brain-mouth filter was non-existent. But this felt like something he’d like to keep for himself, especially when news of the murder made it onto the local news, presumed to be the outcome of ‘gang activity’ simply because the victim was successful and had a loving family and what else could explain this?
He decided to not think about making plans anymore, and he only thought about Logan when his mind was otherwise unoccupied. It stayed that way until the very next week when he found out about the situation with his roommate’s ex.
Remus didn’t have many people in the world who were willing to put up with him, but the one’s that did, he cherished dearly. So when Nadia, the woman he’d describe as belonging among the Valkyries (if only she could get past her deal of not wanting to hurt a fly), came to him looking uncharacteristically shaken and upset, Remus felt something in him snap.
She told Remus about how her ex-boyfriend was following her to her workplace and making threats on her life. He’d even begun showing up outside their apartment late at night in an attempt at intimidation, and that detail alone pissed him off considering he’d been too in his head to even notice.
“All because I decided I deserved better.” Nadia told him tearily. She was so strong usually, both physically and emotionally, so seeing her so close to crying felt like a punch to the gut. “I just want for him to be gone… But James would probably kill me before I could even file a restraining order.”
“What if he was gone?” Remus blurted out. “Hypothetically.”
Nadia blinked at him, wiping a stray tear. “Honestly? I think the world would be a better place. But that’s never going to happen.”
Remus nodded. “Right. Of course. Do you still have his number, by any chance?”
--
Remus’ plan was simple: Nadia would call her ex and ask him to come over to ‘reconcile’, and when he did, Remus would confront him. Scare him enough to stay away for good. He was pretty great at being intimidating when he wanted to that the both of them assumed it would work out.
Well, James came as planned. Their apartment complex had one massive security flaw in that anyone could get in without keys or permission, so the only clue Remus got that James was coming was the sound of footsteps bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. Remus stood upright and waited, until he saw the top of James’ head slowly ascending up the stairs, pausing on the second-top step.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” James scoffed disbelievingly as Remus moved in front of him. “Did Nadia seriously send out the guard dog? What? Suddenly too afraid to talk for herself?”
Remus considered barking at him in response, but considering how James was way above the common creep in terms of persistence, he crossed his arms instead and glared steadily.
“Hell yeah she did. You should know why, given how much of a low-life asshole you’ve been acting all week. When are you going to give up the big guy act, huh? Curley called and he wants his complex back.”
James, in all of his 5-foot-no-thoughts glory, only squinted as the insult went over his head.
“...I knew I never fuckin’ liked you. Don’t get involved in our relationship, you little freak.” James tried to pass him, and Remus quickly blocked him, taking out the knife he’d stolen months ago.
“Take another step and this is going in your goddamn eye.” Remus raised his voice, confident that most of their neighbours were already out at work. “You’re not going near Nadia ever again, do you hear me?”
“Or what?! What’ll you do, Kaneshiro? Stab me? Put the toothpick away and step aside, for god’s sake. This is embarrassing, even for you.”
The two of them stood in a standstill, staring each other down as the echo from James’ exclamation faded out.
“...Fine.” Remus said finally. He slipped the knife back into his pocket, and James smirked smugly until Remus grabbed the front of his shirt instead. “It’ll be more fun to do this, anyway.”
With that he shoved James backwards, who quickly lost his footing and fell down the long and narrow flight of stairs. He tumbled for few moments, hitting each step, until he landed on the ground floor with a distant thump.
Remus stared after him, preparing for James to get up and start making a scene like he always did when he didn’t get his way. He didn’t.
Frowning, Remus descended the stairs, and as he drew closer to the slumped-over body, he noticed the puddle of blood around James’ head and the odd way he’d landed.
“Damn.” Remus commented under his breath. “Nadia’s going to kill me.”
He heard a sigh somewhere ahead of him, and fearing someone had walked in on his compromising position, Remus quickly glanced up, excuse at the ready.
“It was an accident-!” He exclaimed, before he realized it was Logan standing there, looking between James and Remus with a pinched expression.
“I know you pushed him, Remus. That’s not exactly what the law would define as an ‘accident’.”
For a second, Remus was starstruck (and opting to ignore the consequences of his actions). “You remember me.”
“Of course I do. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, though.”
That almost sounded like an accusation, so Remus held his hands up defensively. “Hey, in my defence he was just asking to die. The dude's a dick!”
Logan sighed. “Regardless, you shouldn't go around killing people. Sooner or later you’ll get caught.”
“Well, I’m 1 for 1 so far! But if you’d rather me not get in trouble… Have any tips on how to cover this?” Remus joked, winking.
Logan frowned at him before he truly considered it, looking around at the scene thoughtfully. “...Double check to make sure you left no evidence. Move quickly, before anybody stumbles across the scene. And if you have time, plant something which will make this look more like an accident-- for instance, a spill on the stairs.”
Remus’ eyes widened. “I wasn’t expecting actual tips. Holy shit- okay.”
He went over to check the body, feeling his cheeks heat up. He absolutely should not be getting flustered over advice on how to cover up a murder, yet here he was.
“I feel like you shouldn’t be encouraging this.” Remus said jokingly as he smoothed out the creases on the front of James’ shirt. “Didn’t you say something about having more work to do? Who knows, you might be giving me a new hobby.”
Remus laughed. Logan didn’t. When he glanced up, the deity was frowning.
“Perhaps not. Forget what I said; I shouldn’t be interfering in matters like this. I shouldn’t even be appearing to you now.”
“Woah, woah, woah. What’s the matter? I thought you liked talking.” Remus hastily stood upright, furrowing his eyebrows.
“I- regardless of my personal feelings, I have a job to do. I can’t allow myself to become so partial over one human.” Logan replied, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows.
“Why? What’s the worst that could happen?!” Remus argued.
“You could cheat death, for starters.”
“You already know how I feel about that.” Remus whined. “I’ll off myself when the time comes, if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Don’t-” Logan exclaimed, before he reigned himself back in. “Just. No. You’re supposed to go naturally. Neither you or I should interfere with that.”
Remus frowned. He wasn’t so sure he liked the thought of such a boring death. If anything, he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Otherwise, he’d be just another body no one would remember-- like loverboy over there.
“That means no more meetings like this.” Logan continued on.
“But what if I want to see you again?” Remus muttered. He looked across the room to Logan and found him wearing a similar downtrodden expression, until it grew serious.
“You’ll just have to deal with that, because we were never supposed to meet in the first place. I have a duty to fulfil and you have a life to live. Our paths are as parallel as can be.”
“This is bullshit, Logan.” Remus said, but he didn’t argue any further. Not when Logan walked around him to complete his business. Not when he prepared to leave, either.
“Don’t do this again.” Logan said finally, giving him a stern glare. “I mean it.”
--------------
Case 3: the woman in the streets.
The next time Remus and Logan met, Logan was starting to think Remus was making a habit of this after all.
In Remus’ defence, he totally wasn’t.
Logan’s parting words just wouldn’t leave his head. It was even worse than last time; the knowledge that he could kill anyone and get to see Logan again plagued him, and he found himself pulling away from his family and friends after the questioning from the police was over and done with.
They were all worried for him, but especially Nadia who knew exactly what he did and assumed it was because of the guilt that he was becoming uncharacteristically withdrawn. Although she was shocked at how things had escalated, she tried to apologize multiple times for letting Remus confront James, which he would always blow off. It wasn’t killing James that had gotten to him, not at all; in fact he was glad that prick was out of their hair. Rather, he grappled with the idea of never seeing Logan again, one of the few people who truly saw the worst sides of him and accepted them nonetheless.
He didn’t deal with it well.
The night of their next meeting, Remus was out drinking alone. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he didn’t want to justify why he wanted to get absolutely wasted to his friends, so being sad and lonely for one night it was.
He had stumbled out of the bar late at night, beginning his unsteady trek home since he had accidentally spent too much money and couldn’t afford an uber to drive him back. Stepping onto the street a couple blocks from his apartment, everything was quiet until the person ahead of him crossed the road, just as a car sped around the corner and knocked them over with an awful crunch.
Remus stood in shock. He looked after the swerving car to get the licence plate, but it was already too late and they had hit the gas upon noticing him. Swearing, he stumbled over to the person left in the road.
“Shit- Are you alright? Of course not, you need an ambulance.” He was struggling to unlock his phone when he noticed how still the person-- a frail old woman-- was. It didn’t even look like she was taking breaths, though it was hard to tell through his swimming vision and the thick coat she was wearing.
With unsteady fingers, Remus pressed against the pulsepoint on her neck, and felt the moment her heartbeat stopped.
“Oh…”
And then he turned on his heel and threw up.
Death wasn’t supposed to bother him like this. He had always been proud of his ability to frighten others with his dismissive attitude towards life’s eventualities. But this was different. He had just watched the murder of a complete stranger right before his eyes, and there wasn't even anything he could do. What the fuck?
He didn’t even feel better when the person he’d been longing to see all night appeared right in front of him, arms crossed and ready to give a lecture.
“Again, Remus?! What did I tell you?! No more murder!” Logan threw his hands up at the sight of Remus next to the body, that was until he noticed the cause of death and Remus’ sickly appearance,
“I-I didn’t do anything this time, I swear. Logan I promised myself I wouldn’t.” He picked himself out of the gutter he had been puking into, trying to look at the deity, just so he could feel some sense of reassurance. “I thought I’d never see you again. ‘Thought I was okay with that, but I’m not. I missed you.”
Logan only stared at Remus when he began crying. He was a sappy emotional drunk when he got through the fun tipsy phase, sue him.
“...I apologize for yelling at you.” Logan said, awkwardly hovering his hand over Remus’ shoulder until it shuddered with a sob and accidentally brushed against him. Remus jolted at the cool touch, as did Logan, who quickly retreated his hand, eyes darting around worriedly.
“‘Always thought you’d be like mist.” Remus slurred, awestruck enough to forget his sadness. He reached forward to prod at Logan, who furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully.
“I… Yes, that’s definitely strange.” Logan cleared his throat and straightened up. “In any case, you need to get off the street, report this incident, and go home. Being around so much death isn’t good for your mental health.”
“Maybe.” Remus sighed. “I quite like hanging around you, though.”
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re drunk. You’re going to feel a lot worse about seeing me in the morning, I promise.”
“I never feel bad about seeing you.” Remus said, picking up his phone from where he’d dropped it. “I only feel bad that it’ll be a long time before I get the chance to see you again.”
“...I don’t get it.” Logan replied softly after a heavy pause. “You shouldn’t want to see me at all. I’m a bad omen. You’d only ever get to meet me in times of tragedy.”
“‘Bad omen’... And I thought Emo was dramatic.” Remus chuckled weakly. “You’re not so bad, Lo. You guide people to the end. You care for them even when you have so many people to watch over. You’re opinionated and you’re easily curious when things don’t go to plan. You don’t mind when I’m weird and you’re fun to talk to. I like you.”
Logan blinked rapidly with surprise, clutching his chest. “I wish we could be having this conversation away from the recently deceased. But... I suppose I feel the same way. I still don’t know how or why you can see me, but our conversations haven’t been unpleasant.”
“Death likes my company.” Remus said, smiling softly to himself. “...You’re right though. I should probably phone this in. I just wish I could remember the licence plate… Something like XQ... ugh.”
“XQR 460.” Logan supplied helpfully.
“That’s it!” Remus cheered, sloppily kissing Logan on the cheek. “Thanks babe!”
Logan floundered for a second as Remus begun calling an ambulance, struggling to regain composure. “I hope we don’t meet like this again soon. Three times over the span of a year is already too much.”
“I don’t know.” Remus looked at Logan slyly. “I’ve always had pretty bad luck.”
--------------
Case 4: the bad doctor.
The next time Remus and Logan meet, it’s completely coincidental and under less stressful circumstances for once.
Well, still stressful. Just for different reasons.
Roman was in the hospital because of some dumb motorcycle crash he got into, which near-gave Remus a heart attack when he heard about because he may often ask for death these days, but not like this. Never like this.
Anyway, he was more or less alive in the end. Just a broken leg and a lot of scrapes and bruises since he always refused to wear the proper protective clothing when he went riding (due to it ‘not fitting his aesthetic', apparently. Remus assumed it was pussy talk for ‘I don’t look badass enough to pull off leather’).
Remus had stopped by to visit, bringing some of the fancy name-brand crackers Roman liked since he kept complaining about how stale and awful the hospital’s ones were, and to say hello to Virgil while xe was on shift. The three of them even managed to sit down while Virgil was on break and catch up, too. Roman and Virgil seemed glad Remus was doing a bit better after his downward spiral a couple of weeks ago, even if they didn’t mention it.
After a few hours spent catching up and teasing one another, he decided to leave Roman to get some rest. His plans for that evening were to take a load off and perhaps call for some takeout with Nadia. Honest to God, he didn’t plan on looking for any trouble.
But still, trouble found him when he noticed Logan walking the halls of the hospital, following a doctor to the elevator.
Remus double-taked. Though he shouldn’t really be surprised to see Logan here in a place with so much death, it was still odd witnessing the cloaked figure walk around normal people, none of them noticing his presence.
Remus quickly jogged over. "Logan!" He hissed under his breath.
The deity startled (startled!) before turning to him, just like the doctor he was following.
"Do you need something?" The doctor said, raising an eyebrow.
"Uhhhh, nope! Just… getting into the elevator." Remus replied, stepping in and standing next to Logan.
"Why must you have such awful timing?" Logan sighed stressfully as the elevator doors slid shut. Remus looked at him, unable to verbally reply with the doctor standing right next to them. Fortunately, his unspoken request to elaborate was picked up on.
"This doctor is going down go the morgue. I was here to see a patient that died under his care, and I noticed how death seemed to latch onto him. I got curious."
Sounds like a bad doctor, if even a deity of death was interested in him. Heh, that probably said a lot about Remus too.
Logan elaborated for Remus’ misinterpreting amused expression. "Remus, he murders patients purposefully. You should not have gotten on this elevator."
...Oh. Remus looked past Logan to the doctor, who had noticed his glances.
"...Hm, aren't you supposed to be in your room? Broken leg, road burn, lacerations?" He questioned, eyes flicking down to where he assumed Remus must be injured.
"Nope! You’re thinking of my twin. I came to visit him today." Remus responded as chipper as he could manage, suddenly a lot more unnerved knowing that this apparently dangerous doctor knew about his brother.
"Ah! I see. I did wonder how you managed to grow a full moustache in a day." The man chuckled. "Twins… quite fascinating."
Uh oh spaghetti-os. "Yeah… people say we're like two unrelated people, we’re so different." Remus laughed dismissively. It didn't seem to bother the doctor.
"Interesting… Say, a partner of mine is conducting a study on the differences in the individual psychologies of monozygotic twins. I'm sure it would please her to get more data, if you'd be interested in participating. There would be monetary compensation for your time, of course."
"This is such an unethical form of recruitment. What kind of professional are you?" Logan argued in frustration. Remus almost burst into laughter on the spot from the bizarreness of the situation, but he somehow managed to turn it into an agreeable grin instead.
"Sounds good, doc." Remus said.
"What-?!" Logan exclaimed. Remus spared him a glance, hoping it would let him know he knew what he was doing. Logan didn't look placated in the slightest.
"Excellent! I'll pass the details onto your brother and we can arrange a meeting sometime this week.”
At that moment, the elevator stopped to let a few other people on. Remus took the opportunity to head out before they could reach the basement floor.
“See you later!” He called to both the Doctor and Logan.
“REMUS!”
--------------
Case 4.5: the dead doctor.
The next time they meet, Remus fully expects it.
Roman asks him over text why he volunteered them for a study, and Remus makes some vague excuse like ‘sexy doctor’. Thankfully, he bought it.
Before the date sent to them by the doctor, Remus decided to do his own research first. To do so, he contacted Virgil and asked for details on the man.
After copious amount of friendly jabs (like 'oooh Remus, I didn’t know tall, straight, and boring was your type'), Virgil told him his name and not much else, given that xe wasn't exactly close with the older staff member. That was fine; Remus used the information to find online profiles, where he found contact details and photos, where he found business accounts, where he found history.
After pulling a few more strings from people that owed him one, he managed to gain access to the vital records from the hospital. It didn’t take long to discover that Logan was right, there had been a spike in deaths since the doctor, a mister 'Stacey’, had begun working there. It was a mystery how no one had noticed the pattern honestly. Weren't doctors supposed to get their licences taken away after a certain number of incidents? As he begun looking through the files more closely however, he realized that the deaths were often chalked up to accidents; small things that could have been due to anything, from mistakes during operations, to the patients overdosing on their prescribed medication, to incidents days after they’ve been discharged.
As Remus closed his laptop, he begun feeling very glad he had impulsively accepted Stacey’s offer.
--
The meeting ended up being scheduled for Friday evening, and by the time it rolled around, Remus was fully prepared and waiting outside of the agreed location. He dialled Roman’s number, looking out to the empty parking lot and familiarizing himself with the location.
After a few rings, Roman picked up, sounding slightly agitated. “Yes, Captain Dookey?”
Remus snickered at the old nickname-- it was practically a relic from when they played pirates as children. Perhaps Roman was feeling sentimental after his accident.
“Aye aye first mate. You should know that I’m not gonna make it to the study. I already called Dr. Stacy to let him know we’re cancelling for today, so you can stay home.”
“Really Remus? I just got ready.”
“Yeah well, you’re supposed to be resting anyway. Unless you want to drop a visit by yourself that is, but Virgil told me he’s straight, soooo...”
He heard a retching sound on the other end of the line.
“No thanks.” A sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”
“Bye, ugly.”
“Later, Rat Bastard.”
“Rats are cute, that’s not an insult. Byeee~.” Remus quickly hung up, his grin quickly fading as he took in the apartment complex.
It didn’t look like the sort of space that would house an office, but Stacey didn’t look like the type to break the Hippocratic oath either, so perhaps the world wasn’t as straight-forward as it seemed.
Slipping his phone away, Remus buzzed the number he’d been given, and it wasn’t long before the good doctor himself came down to answer the door personally.
“Remus.” Stacey almost looked surprised to see him. “Is your brother not coming?”
“Oh, no.” Remus waved a hand. “I just got off the phone with him and he told me he’s running late. He said to get started without him.”
He received a charming smile. “That works just fine. Come on in.”
Stacey led him up the stairs to his apartment, and the whole time Remus felt the weight of the kitchen knife in his pocket. When they got to the ‘office’ (which was really just a living room with minimal furnishing), he offered him a drink.
“No thanks, I’m good.” Remus said, looking around. “...Seems pretty empty in here for an office.”
“Ah… Yes, unfortunately my colleague is having renovations done in her usual space, so we’ll have to collect our data here. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
A fair enough explanation on the surface, and one his brother would probably accept if he was here, but Remus wasn’t nearly as trusting as Roman was. Nor was he as ignorant to the true purpose of this meeting.
“I see… That makes sense. Or at least it would, if I didn’t already know all about your dirty little secrets.”
Stacey glanced up from where he’d been looking for a pen. “...Pardon?”
Remus smiled back; a grin with all teeth. “You have quite a few skeletons in your closet, doc. Even for a fine medical professional like yourself.”
The doctor very carefully didn’t react to that. "My apologies, do you have the right person? To the best of my knowledge we've only spoken once."
"Yeah." Remus agreed. "And once is all it took. I found out about all those little accidents that follow you, doctor. Weird how many times your patients pass away from nicked veins and potassium chloride overdoses, hm?"
The only outward response Stacey gave was the clenching of his fists. Subtle, but Remus noticed it. "Be careful Mr. Kaneshiro, because that sounds an awfully lot like a baseless accusation. People sue for that, you know."
"I don't doubt it. But you already know it's not so baseless, don't you? You know exactly what I’m talking about, which is why you invited us here to a shady apartment late at night, no colleague in sight."
"Remus what the hell do you think you're doing?!" A familiar voice chimed from behind him.
Remus startled out of his focus, whipping his head around. "Logan?"
"Don't look at me, you ignoramus-! You met a serial killer alone after I told you to stay away?!"
"He knows my brother, I couldn't just-!"
Remus looked back at the doctor was closer now, looking down at him pitifully. "I see now. The talking to air, the erratic behaviour, the pushing your delusions onto others… you mustn't be well. It's alright, Mr. Kaneshiro, I could easily refer you to a mental health facility who will take care of you."
"Remus, you have to get out! Now!"
"I know!" He wasn’t a complete idiot, damn it! But he needed to get Stacey to confess or-
"Ah, perfect! If you wait here, I’ll go and make a call."
Remus stepped backwards, hand going to the knife in his pocket. He needed Stacey to confess, but if he didn’t-
Unfortunately, Stacey noticed his movement and quickly grabbed his left wrist, putting way too much pressure in his grip than was necessary.
"Ah-ah. I told you to stay put, didn't I? Come now, don't be difficult. I'm only trying to get you the help you need."
If he didnt-
"Let go of him!" Logan demanded to the man who couldn't hear him.
Stacey froze, feeling the cool touch of Death on his arm as Logan tried to pull him away, and at that moment Remus pulled his knife out and stabbed him in the chest; slipping the blade right between the ribs.
Red pooled around the knife, staining his crisp white shirt vividly. Stacey stared at the knife, and dug his nails into Remus’ wrist.
"Fucker." Remus yelped with pain, pulling the weapon back out.
Finally, Stacey let go and stumbled back, hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor. His expression didn't recover from the shock from when Logan touched him; he didn't even try to apply pressure to the wound as he bled out. He just sat there until the light left his eyes, and the only sound left in the room was Remus’ laboured breathing.
"I… shouldn't have done that." Logan muttered, eyeing the limp body.
"Done what? I'm the one that killed him. That was my backup plan all along." Remus replied numbly, looking at the scene he had caused.
"I gave him the touch of Death, it's- it's an omen. I'm not supposed to use it ever."
"Gee, I'm flattered. I promise murder was always on my brain though." Remus said as he took the tape recorder out of his pocket. No need for this anymore. He wanted to get a clip of Stacey saying something incriminating so that he could defame him and ruin his reputation, but well, him not being able to benefit from a reputation at all was the next best thing.
Logan watched him, taking in the claw marks across his wrist. "...Right. He scratched you, so remember to clean under his nails."
Despite everything, Remus smiled softly at the advice. "Aww, you really care about me, don't you?"
"I- no. Absolutely not. That’s absurd" Remus snickered as Logan flushed an adorable shade of paynes grey, which he hid by going to deal with the corrupt doctor’s soul.
"...Why did you show up, by the way? There isn't anyone dead in this apartment is there?" Remus realized belatedly, looking around the empty space.
"Ah… No. Admittedly, I've been keeping a closer eye on this town than I really should, and after what happened the other day, I figured I needed to be here when I noticed you two meeting… I probably shouldn’t have.” Logan conceded.
"Well, at least you can't say this wasn't a business visit." Remus giggled to himself, wiping the blood from his knife with a tissue. Maybe he was a little giddy from the endorphins of confronting a prolific serial killer, or perhaps it was the confirmation that Logan cared for him, but either way he felt really good right now, like he could take on the world.
Logan looked at him and sighed. "I should've known you'd be trouble. No more killing, Remus. This has to be the last time."
"Of course, pinky promise~."
"...I can see you crossing your fingers behind your back, you brat."
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Case 5: the one who tried to get away.
The next time they met, Remus broke his pinky promise. No surprises there.
It was hardly even a promise to begin with, but for some reason Logan expected him to stick to it. Quite foolish, if you ask Remus, given that he now had a total of three murders under his belt, and stopping there almost felt like giving up.
Of course, he had to lay low after Stacey however. The hospital was holding a memorial for his death and Remus later found out that it was ruled a break in. (Made sense, since Remus took a few of his fancy cleaning products on the way out, as a treat to himself.)
It was a shame Stacey was being remembered so honourably, but he couldn't really do anything about that. At least he wasn't out in the world hurting more people.
But unfortunately for Remus, the ruling of Stacey’s murder didn’t stop the incident from trickling into his normal life, as Virgil and Roman seemed to grow suspicious of him. Virgil didn't bring up the topic to him directly, but xe begun acting sketchy when the two of them hung out (Though that could easily be wariness after having one of xyr co-workers be killed). Oppositely, Roman brought the topic up at the first chance possible.
"Dr. Stacey was murdered the night we were supposed to meet him." Roman commented the next day they were able to have lunch together, arms crossed confrontationally. "Funny that."
"Yeah. Sounds like we had some pretty good luck, if you ask me." Remus grinned.
"Wha- why are you smiling?! A man died!" His twin hissed at him. Under his breath, as to not alert the other tables.
Remus’ grin faded. "Listen Ro-bro, I didn't want to tell you this but our good doctor wasn't as kind as you think he is. I called you off that night to help you. Trust me. It’s better off that neither of us went through with that ‘study’."
Roman leaned back, looking unconvinced. "What were you doing instead, Remus?"
"...Huh?"
"You heard me. Where were you? What's your alibi?"
"You're not accusing your own flesh and blood of murder, are you?" Remus sipped his drink casually; ice coffee with as many pumps of peppermint syrup as the barista would allow.
"Just answer the question." Siiigh, what a tightass. How did they come out the same womb?
"I was meeting an old friend, for your information. Logan." Remus smiled to himself at the inside joke.
"Logan? You've never mentioned a Logan before." Roman raised his eyebrows.
Remus leaned back in his chair with a shrug, opting to look out the window instead. By doing so he missed the flash of complicated emotions that crossed his twin’s face at the dismissive gesture.
"I don't tell you everything about my life, brother dearest."
"Clearly…"
--
A week or two passed since his conversation with Roman, and during that time Remus didn't get to see Logan again once. That wasn't such a terrible thing, most people would assume, to not run into a deity of death, but Remus was so bored! He wanted to see his favourite death pal again, but no opportunities arose to do that, and nothing was striking his murder-fancy.
That was until the day he saw a familiar licence plate parked outside a shop.
Remus froze in his tracks, remembering the night he last saw that car.
A woman crossing the street, a body too still, a car speeding away with no remorse-
Remus had given the licence number to the police, but clearly they hadn't done anything about it. Or perhaps they'd tried and the asshole bought them off.
He growled at the idea, startling a passer-by who was crossing around him.
Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long before he found out who his ire belonged to. A familiar face left the shops and begun walking towards the car; Anton, a guy who had been a year above him back in high school. Remus’ memory of the man was vague; primarily made up of snapshots of cruelty and entitlement towards those around him.
He looked exactly the same, with his annoyingly polished appearance and ugly overpriced clothes. So he was right about the police being paid off, then. Typical.
He'd just have to do something about this himself.
--
“I suppose there’s no point in trying to convince you to stop this, is there?”
“I mean.” Remus begun, looking down at the body he had just finished suffocating and rubbing at his bruised arms. There was more of a struggle than tv had led him to believe. “I kinda had to do this one. What? Was I supposed to connect the dots on a murder and not stalk and kill the guy who got away unpunished?”
“Most people would say yes.” Logan groaned, in the sort of tone that said he already knew he was fighting a losing battle.
“We’re not like most people though, are we?” Remus grinned, fluttering his eyelashes.
“You’re most certainly not. I’m barely a person.” Logan replied with finality.
--------------
Case 6: the one who pushed their luck.
And then shortly after;
“Come on man, don’t do this.” The masked person pleaded, hanging onto the fire-escape for dear life. Literally.
Remus raised an eyebrow, making a show of contemplating the request. “Hmm, I don’t know. You did try to pull a gun on me.”
“It wasn’t loaded, jackass!”
Remus tutted and held his foot over the person’s clammy hands. They shook violently at the unspoken threat. “And now you’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood too? No consideration!”
His joking tone must have angered them, because they began struggling to hoist themself back up again, red in the face with strain. “I swear, when I get up there-”
Promptly losing his interest in hearing the rest of that threat, Remus stood on their fingers, causing them to let go of the fire-escape and plummet to the street below with a strangled yell.
“Whoopsie daisy.”
He leaned over the banister, whistling innocently as a familiar presence appeared next to him. Logan joined him in peering down at the body, eyebrow raised.
“At least this one was merely an accident?” He guessed by the cause of death, a twinge of hope in his voice.
“Nah, they’ve tried breaking in at least 3 times this year. It was getting annoying.”
As Logan scolded him for his recklessness, Remus decided not to comment on it when their topic of conversation turned back towards the casual banter they usually shared. The two of them stood on the fire escape until the sun was on the edge of the horizon and Remus had to dash back to his apartment to avoid being seen by the early-commuters.
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Case 8: the innocent.
And then:
Remus curiously nudged the raccoon with the tip of his boot. He’d just stumbled upon it and it still looked fresh; given that he was standing by a busy road, it was no wonder what had happened.
He was making a mental note to come back and collect the bones at a later date, when Logan appeared in-front of him in a blink, looking completely unsurprised this time around.
Remus on the other hand startled before regaining his bearings and shooting the deity a smile. “Our paths are looking less parallel by the day huh, Psychopomp-ous?”
Logan raised his eyebrows appreciatively at the word play. “It appears so. It’s quite the pleasant surprise to find you not getting into trouble for once.”
“There’s always tomorrow.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows back. “That said, I really didn’t expect to see you. I was wondering for a while if you dealt with this kind of thing too, y’know.”
Logan looked down, seeming to really notice the raccoon for the first time. He nodded after a beat. ”She had a life too. My brother brought her into the world, and so I must escort her out.”
”Yeah? Anything of note happen?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity. He’d file away the latter half of Logan’s statement for later prodding.
”...She had a family. They stayed together under the porch of an old couple.”
“Ah, to be a racoon living under a porch.” Remus lamented dreamily. “I’m glad she got to live such a rich and fulfilling life before becoming road kill. I’m truly jealous.”
“In the wild, your lifespan would most likely be around 2–3 years as a raccoon.” Logan pointed out, attempting to contradict his idealistic tone.
“Exactly. The life.”
That earned a pinched expression from Logan that made Remus titter.
“Just messing with you, prim reaper~. Now, do you have any idea how long it’s going to take for her to decompose? I have a new piece of decor to make.”
--------------
Case 11: the matchbox.
Remus watched from afar as the house on Psyche Avenue burned. It was bright and brilliant, so of course the firefighters were already on the scene, trying to calm the fire and save the occupant inside.
They’d be much too late; the trafficker was already unconscious and likely burning to death, along with any evidence Remus might have left behind. It was the perfect crime.
Satisfied with today’s work, he took a drag of a cigarette, delighted when Logan appeared beside him instead of with the dirtbag who deserved to burn forever (and since it was a mystery whether he'd end up with such a fate, it only seemed fitting for Remus to play god and speed up the process.)
“Those kill, you know.” Logan said in greeting.
“That makes two of us.” Remus grinned sharply, even when Logan rolled his eyes and pinched out the end of his cigarette.
For the second time in a month, the two of them overlooked the sky together, illuminated by the amber blazes of the fire. It almost felt like a date.
--------------
Case 13: the one with bad luck.
He was back in the alley that had imprinted itself so clearly in his memory, knife buried in the chest of a would-be assailant. Remus was boredly watching the blood seep between the bricks when Logan finally appeared to deal with the body.
“You’re late!” Remus complained with a whine. “This guy’s practically cold already.”
“Apologies. There was a flash flood across the country, and it took more of my focus to handle than I would've liked."
Remus hummed. He thought he heard something about that on the news. Mother nature could be cruel indeed. Perhaps even worse than Remus himself.
“Anyone nearby?” He checked.
“Not in a half-mile radius, no. However, the police may be on their way.”
“Plenty of time, then.” Remus said as he pulled Logan down to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.
It had been months since that first drunk sloppy kiss happened, and less time since it had become a regular greeting. Remus would never get tired of the feeling of cold skin against his lips. It was like kissing marble-- if marble had a sassy mouth and a sexy amount of knowledge.
Logan pulled back first, smudging away the trail of blood running from Remus' nostril. “Did you have any trouble?”
“Nah, you should see the other guy.”
That earned a laugh-- a quiet chime that made Remus’ heart flutter. “I see them. Good job, you’re getting rather skilled at that.”
“Why, thank you~.” Remus preened under the praise. “It only took a couple tries, but I think I finally got the technique down pat.”
“Hmm. Speaking of 'Pat', my brother doesn’t seem to like this much. He’s not unappreciative of your choices in target, although he appears to be rather disapproving on the amount of times I've been called to your side."
Logan didn't talk about his brother much: the deity of life. From what little Remus had learned from his prying and Logan’s own complaints, he seemed like a bit of a killjoy. He blew a raspberry in response.
"Tell Patton to stop making so many criminals and maybe I'll consider it."
The corner of Logan's lips quirked up. "I don't think I will, as humorous as I'm sure that would be. It doesn't quite work like that."
Remus shrugged, watching as Logan looked off to the side.
"...It seems I’m needed elsewhere."
”You can’t stay? We barely got to talk.” Remus said with a pout.
“Unfortunately so.” Logan turned to the body; what he should have been there for. It wasn’t long before his focus was back on Remus, though. “That said... It’s a busy night. Perhaps we’ll meet again sooner than expected.”
Remus’ frown tipped back into a smile as he watched Logan vanish. He then turned on his heel and retrieved his knife before walking off into the night. If he was going to make good on Logan’s expectations, he better get to work.
--------------
Case 0: the one who death followed.
It soon became an established pattern; Remus would come across someone shady, and he’d put together a detailed- or straight-forward- plot on how to get rid of them. By now his city must have noticed the string of deaths, but with such a random means and very little evidence, Remus was free to continue as he pleased.
In a sense, he was untouchable with Logan by his side, pointing out anything he left behind and giving warning for any potential witnesses. Especially when he gave up on persuading Remus away from this path. It's not like the moral argument could be made anymore; the city had seen a drastic decrease in crime once Remus had taken out a lot of big players (even if there was an air of fear that lingered in the back of everyone's minds, wondering if they'd be next up on the chopping block).
All in all, it was enough to make Remus cocky; perhaps even enough so to lead to his downfall. But how was he ever going to give up now? All his life he’d been hoping for some sort of excitement to fulfil him, and he finally found it in a surprise meeting with a deity of death. Death had gone from a distant longing to something familiar and welcome; something he could use to right wrongs and feel a sense of purpose with.
And as long as he was able to exchange a life for one more meeting with his beloved partner in crime, he would do his best to stay ahead of the game.
(No matter who was out there, trying to stop the two of them.)
--------------
Writing taglist: @just-perhaps @sashootkahoot @anxious-l0ser @illogical-immunity @overlad-of-the-snakes @varthandi @whisperinginthevoid @and-this-sword @creamiiteaa-xx
Deityfucker au taglist: @arodynamic-enby @its-the-usda-certified-trashman @overlad-of-the-snakes @aromanticwhore @haha-phrog @hetalianhufflepuff @emeryyleaf @winter-wandering @gaylotusthatexists @8bituin
#my writing#sanders sides#intrulogical#remus sanders#logan sanders#(others are mentioned)#deityfucker au#death tw#violence tw#crime tw#weapon tw#swearing tw#injury tw#(lots of warnings for this one. take care!)
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my hot take on mal and why hes wonderful and why malina is the proper coupling (and im gonna shit on darkling/darklina for a bit)
*these might not be new thoughts but i want to express my love for mal and malina (and i just finished the books like a few hours ago so my brain is on fire) there was so much mal slander on the malina tags and i wanted to throw in my 2 cents!!*
- mal literally had nobody. this kid is a literal orphan! i love that he figured out what to fight for and kept his head in the game. i am a sucker for characters who needs to fight to get anywhere in life. he was gifted the tracking skill and befriending alina and thats it. characters like him have grit and a personality that makes them tough and fearless and i am always going to root for their happy endings
- this poor man has to face these super powerful beings without powers. its hella intimidating to be just regular while being surrounded by folks who can blast light, manipulate winds and waters and fabricate things from nothing. he worked with what he got and that was tracking and being physically fit to fight and i fucken applaud that!!!
- he never got in alina's way. i think whats tragic is that he internalized how much of a "low born"/"nobody" he was and saw that alina was destined for so much more and he made sure he was useful at all times. at the beginning of seige and storm, it felt like mal was hindering alina because she couldnt use her powers and that made her feel like complete shit (i wasn't team mal at that moment but what else were they suppose to do. darkling was worse tbh!!)
- he's just a kid. hes struggling! i was sad when it was confirmed that he and zoya were a thing for a bit (and has been with other girls) but thats just being a teen in a war torn society (and also hyping him up to be desirable for the audience)
- even his maturity is very much in line with him being a kid and trying to navigate being a soldier and then having to shifting his entire purpose to aligning with just alina. he was suppose to just be a soldier, and die honorably depending whos attacking who. but he rejected his training/soldier mindset and found alina because he knew she needed him! he could have died soooo many times, he lost friends but he had to roll with the punches the entire time. and again, this man got nothing going for him! just his love for alina!
- i dont think YA books appreciate the boys without power; those who aren't royalty and aren't born with wealth and poise. mal had to learn to survive at an early age and that includes learning to be likeable and social, being a skilled soldier, and tracker (but that was a gift). i love that alina also started out in a shitty position but she also learned her power and voice.
- mal lets alina be herself! I love female protagonists who are ambitious and want to stay in power but for alina, i like that she wants the ordinary things. she wants a normal life that isn't full of explosion, talk of war or politics or grand dresses. mal let her be goofy and let her be childlike-- see their banter, see their mischiefs growing up. darkling and nikolai needed her to be a summonor/weapon and a queen/leader. they demanded her to use her powers and be a face that decorated their arms; they demanded her to be this surreal being that hordes of people will follow. she has to be regal; has to be poised and laugh and smile on command; be an intimidating figure especially in this war torn country.
- mal wanted alina because she's his best friend! thats it! my favorite moment (and ended up being the sad moment) was in ruin and rising when there was a meteor shower and nikolai found alina first and them walking together arm-in-arm to go see it. mal, with a big smile on his face, was rushing to her to tell her about the shower but stopped short when he saw them together. in that paragraph, alina talked about how mal always ran to her when something that made him happy happens (ugh my sappy heart!!!)
- grishas are the marginalized group and face horrendous torture and systematic prejudges and ravka should have been a place they could feel safe. i like that darkling was fighting for them...but it falls apart when it seems he was hell bent on making sure alina fall in line. he could be that radical; thats fine but he was so obsessed with alina; he was manipulative !!
- i know we're suppose to sympathize with him because he grew up filled with hatred from his mom, grew up in a society that hates people like him and at its core, hes just a lonely boy where nobody understands him because hes soooo powerful and can live 5ever and only alina could understand him because her power measures up to him. but heres the thing, just learn to be a good person wtf??? also he had his mom???? he had someone???? also learn to make friends?? mal fucken did it and he got nobody. learn to build ships??? like nikolai who is an outcast in his own family. (im harsh to characters that live forever and refuse to budge from their original notion about the world. because u spent all that time being alive and not do a thing about that??)
- darkling just latched onto alina for her power. and he is demanding her to be his partner without understanding her and what she needs. he flirts w her, seduces her and plays her so he can be the ultimate powerful figure to lead ravka--so his goal stopped being saving grisha and demanding things from people. ugh how can anybody ship darkling and alina???
- at no point would it feel balanced if alina and darkling were a thing because alina will constantly play catch up. she will always feel like she has to be an adult and has to be this face for the people to follow. she could live with him forever and what?? learn to love him??? i guess??? doing what?? controlling ravka forever???
- anyways i love mal. i dont think hes boring. while browsing the tag for s&b and malina, it was just filled with mal slander! and this is my response to some of the hate. he's literally trying his goddamn best; he literally has no power and has to learn to defend himself the best he can. he is the type of character that has to fight for his survival, fight for his worth and fight for his love!!!! whats not to like???
#amandabookthoughts#shadow and bone#shadow and bone trilogy#leigh bardugo#malina#pro malina#mal oretsev#alina starkov#darkling#aleksander morozova#long post#pro mal#anti darklina
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I'm fine and dandy,
Mind i ask your opinion on what became of the Gaang in LOK? I know the Toph being a cop thing ruffles some feathers and some don't accept Aang was a bad father.
HAT ANON HI glad to hear you are fine and dandy on this exquisite day of the week. And OOF this is a loaded question, but I'll do my best! :)
So I feel like there are a couple ways to answer this question based on your shipping preferences, but for the sake of this I'll try and answer everything based on what is considered canon. So ATLA, comics, and LOK.
I'll also preface by saying that I get why there are some controversial takes in LOK... I think they were trying to make the characters have more depth and show that even our favorite characters have flaws, even when they're adults. I just think that in some situations it was OOC and it leaves a bad taste in your mouth when you see where the Gaang went from the start to the end of ATLA, and then to see glimpses of their adult life and only seeing the trashiest parts.
Aang: If he's with Katara, it's not surprising to me that he's not a great father. Like, he has very strong opinions about his culture and while Katara is just as passionate about her upbringing, there isn't a ton of evidence of Aang accommodating the children's upbringing to also integrate SWT traditions in their lifestyle. I don't think he was outwardly trying to be a bad dad or anything, but his desperation to pass down Air Nomad traditions to an airbender overshadowed his primary need to be a father to all three of his kids. It's also really hard to see him as still this happy, lovable nice guy who treats everyone with kindness and respect when we know that he practically ignored 2 of his kids... But basically, his 'bad takes' as a dad were left unchecked, and his actions were probably defended by his wife as opposed to having to face them.
Katara: This one hurt lol. Again, it's not surprising that when she's with Aang that she chooses to settle down and be a wife and mother and healer. Aang's the Avatar, he's busy, their two oldest children are really rambunctious and are craving attention, so it's gonna be Katara to give them the love and care they need. But based on what we see in ATLA, it's just sad that we don't get to see or hear about any changes she made in the world or fighting. She really does seem to be ushered off to the side, left to retire in SWT after Aang dies. It's also sad/crazy that her strength and ability to stand up to disrespectful or ignorant people goes away when she's an adult. And I feel like this is glaring in her relationship with Aang and then also when Korra is finishing up training in the SWT. The other masters are whining that Korra isn't ready and Katara says she is and then the men keep complaining and whining. Like, no way would ATLA Katara let that go without her giving her two cents. Yes, she does help Korra leave, but she definitely would've said something to those old hoots. It's also weird that her strong resolve doesn't show up when she's raising her children with Aang. Why didn't she confront him? And if she did, how come nothing changed? Maybe it was too late, but idk. Katara doesn't seem like the person to let things go after she stood up to the problem once. Essentially, I'm upset that Katara was this strong and powerful female protagonist in ATLA, but not really hear about her amazing strides in the world in LOK (because if she did change the world, they didn't mention it... sad).
Sokka: Hmmm, he's not really ever shown in the show except in one flashback (because he's dead tears), but from what it sounds like, he didn't have any children, didn't sound like he ever really settled down, nothing like that. I think it would be sad if Aunt Wu's fortune was true and he never really ended up happy because of things he did. Would that be considered OOC? I don't think so... He was the goofy guy and the brains of the operations, but he seems like the guy that is afraid of being happy or ruins things when he is happy. My only reasoning for this is when he lost Yue, it changed him on some level, and at first he tried to push away Suki when she was initiating a kiss. Pretty light and lame reasons, but it's something....
Suki: MY GIRL SUKI NOT MENTIONED THAT'S SO OOC. Lol. Like, why didn't she randomly pop up from time to time? Are the Kyoshi Warriors just not around? I don't like that she wasn't in LOK, not even in a small flashback or anything. She was friends with the Gaang and it seems odd that no one mentioned their dear friend that helped save the world with them even if she passed away or anything. And also I don't think a casual statement about her settling in the suburbs counts as canon lol.
Toph: Okay. I don't hate that she's a cop. It's not really in character, but I don't hate it. If all of her friends settled in Republic City, and they all had their own responsibilities to deal with and asked Toph to run the RCPD, I think she would say yes out of loyalty to her friends, maybe out of boredom. I'm surprised she was in the role as long as she was, though... She was starting to get bored of her metalbending academy after a year or two once things were running smoothly, so she seems like the kind of woman that would search for the next adventure. But if she had to be a cop, I think she'd much rather be the one enforcing the rules at the top as opposed to following the rules, but... yeah. In a canon universe I struggle to come up with a long-term career for her, so I made my peace with the cop thing. Many of my friends haven't though lol, which is okay! Another thing I didn't like was how she was portrayed as a bad mother. Not that she was a bad mother (as much as it would suck, I can kind of see her being a bad mom), but they way she was a bad mom didn't really fit her character. She was neglected as a kid, doesn't seem right that she in turn would neglect her kids by giving them too much freedom. Also! My least favorite thing was how she had a 20/30 year rift with her girls, and then it was suddenly resolved. Like... No we need some more context to the conflict, and we need to see work being put into the resolution if we're going to bring this up. If Lin held a grudge against her family for 30 years, a short "sorry I wasn't a great mom, hope you don't hate me" comment isn't going to make her forgive them lol. I do like how she was portrayed as a single mother to two girls. She doesn't really seem like the type to settle down, and it was a nice surprise to see her have daughters from different men. Families come in all shapes and sizes, and it would've been the perfect opportunity to show those differences and show that there's more than one way to have a positive upbringing (Like, let's see the cloudbabies and the Beifongs both happy even though they had two very different parental upbringings? Just... there was an opportunity is all). And yeah, she seems like the one that would never settle down or have a family, so it would've been interesting to see her handle motherhood and her job! So I'm okay with that bit.
Zuko: Okay Zuko seems chill in canon, but who's his wife? Where she at? He got a partner or anything? We may never know... But it's nice that he appeared to have a happy life with good kids and grandkids... And yet I'm confused as to why Korra preferred to go to Zuko instead of the Avatar's wife for advice on what Aang would have done when choosing between saving the Air Nomads and turning herself in to the Red Lotus?? Like, I know Katara was in the SWT, but they have phones now, you're telling me they couldn't have called Katara? Why wasn't Katara the first person they thought to ask about the situation? I know the logistics would've been difficult considering Katara is holed up in the SWT, but why did everyone say that Zuko knew Aang the best? Why didn't his wife know him the best? Thoughts to ponder.
Okay. I wrote a lot and there's probably more that I do and don't like about how the characters were portrayed... But I think what it all boils down to is that there was an opportunity to still get depth in these beloved characters without us being frustrated with situations that are OOC. Then again, that would make it less about the Krew and more about the Gaang... It just seems like a bit of a slap to the face when we see glaring problems with the Gaang's characterization, and yet, we get no explanation. It does allow for canon writers to play with the 70 years in between, but idk. I much prefer AU's where there's time and opportunity to explore the characters as their best selves I suppose. Honestly, with my disinterest and disliking of canon ships, I don't see the bad takes in LOK as OOC, but it makes me wonder how different things could have been if other ships were made canon (thank goodness they weren't, we're not pigeonholed into one type of story, but still).
Does this kind of answer your question? Lol, sorry if not. My thoughts are all over the place with this one! Thank you for the ask, though, Hatty. Hope you have a great day! :)
#anti lok#anti byrke#salty talks#idk how to tag this LOL#hot takes on canon#i guess??#my asks#thanks for the ask!#anon#anon that threw hat into kantoph ring!#anti kataang#just to be safe lol#this is v hard to articulate lol#because the characters i know wouldn't be like this in 70 years idt#but i also ship them with different people now?#so... obviously they're gonna be different#interesting things to look at though#sorry it's long lol
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So one of the things that struck me as really interesting that was mentioned in the Podcast was that Swedish fans liked Felicia x Ludde better as a couple while International fans liked Amie x Elias better. I have been thinking about this a lot and you don’t have to answer, but Do you think there’s an element of racism with this? For example, I know that in Skam + it’s remakes the Sana Season is less popular in Europe (which many people attributed to racism). So what do you think?
I don't think so, to be honest. From what I've seen no Swedish fan has ever made racist remarks towards Amie as a character nor the actress that portrays her.
Felicia and Ludde are popular in Sweden because a lot of people can relate to them. They're a quintessential Swedish couple.
To explain, Ludde is a stereotypical hockey guy with a nice side and he's conventionally attractive. Adrian also portrays Ludde with a softness that I believe the female side of the audience really appreciates. Ludde isn't just popular in Sweden for this but also among Russian fans. Elias, while being my personal favorite, isn't given as much screentime in the first season and also has a more macho side to him. He's not as easily likable as Ludde is supposed to be.
Felicia in season 1 is basically a cut-out version of a normal Swedish girl (aside from being rich and famous) even if she's supposed to have grown up in Boston. There are so many people I've met that are just like her. If you've been to Sweden or live here you'll know exactly what I mean. For a typical Swedish girl, she's just very easy to relate to.
Felicia and Ludde's relationship was pretty much the first thing developed in season 1 which earned them a lot of fans. Their relationship got much more screen time than Elias and Amie's did and this made them grow in popularity more.
To a casual viewer, season 1 is essentially the story of how Felicia and Ludde fell in love and how Ludde broke Felicia's heart. Season 2 shows them both hurting while spending time apart before getting back together again. They're the main couple, so of course they would be the most popular among the casual Swedish fans.
Elias and Amie didn't get the same development until season 3. To someone who isn't a hardcore fan, they might've forgotten the road trip episode and not even thought of the two as a couple. It's not until season 3 that Swedish fans started jumping on the Elias and Amie hype train, because that's when the writers started building towards a romantic relationship between them.
If I may I'd also like to throw in my two cents on the Sana season of SKAM, as a European who watched it while it was airing. I don't think racism was the main reason it was less popular than the other seasons. From my understanding a lot of people actually rooted for Sana to become the main.
First off, no matter who the main character was, it was inevitable that the international success of season 3 would be nearly impossible to live up to. It's also difficult to neatly wrap up such a popular show in just one season when it was clearly supposed to go on until the russefeiring in the sixth season. And maybe even further than that, considering there was talk of NRK originally having planned for 9 seasons.
You can't deny that the announcement of the upcoming fourth season being the final one generated a lot of disappointment among SKAM fans and set up a bittersweet tone for the start of the season.
Compare this to Eagles which will also end with a final fourth season. Of course you want to see more as a fan, but you understand that the characters in Eagles are starting to enter their adult life and more than half of them have already achieved their dreams. It makes sense to end the show there.
SKAM however, made for a bizarre ending that felt like the show had been canceled and rushed to write a satisfying final season. We know that wasn't the case at all and that Julie Andem could've gone on for many more seasons. I am ultimately sympathetic towards the decision to end SKAM early as the show produced a lot of stress for Andem, but personally I felt like season 4 was a let-down.
What I disliked in season 4 was, firstly, that there wasn't a lot of thought put into Even's backstory. It feels like Andem decided on a whim to invent this history of Even being involved with the balloon squad to appease all the Evak fans who kept saying they needed to know Even's backstory while also have it be related to Sana. It should've been Sana's season only, and not some lazy attempt to shoehorn in a backstory that wasn't really needed in the grand scheme of things.
Secondly, SKAM's fourth season also suffered from characters acting strangely and just downright insulting. Noora took up so much of the season that was supposed to be dedicated to a Muslim woman and her personal struggles.
I have some Muslim friends who were excited for Sana's season but were ultimately disappointed at what we got. One of them didn't even finish the season. It's strange to draw the conclusion that the reason Europeans didn't like season 4 of SKAM must be because of racism, and not the glaring problems with the writing. I also believe this is an unfair label when it comes to Elias and Amie's popularity in Sweden.
It makes perfect sense that Swedish people would gravitate towards the familiar relationship of Felicia and Ludde—after all, it's the couple they can see more of themselves in.
I find that Elias and Amie are more interesting to me because of their chemistry and also the fact that I myself am a WOC. And for that very same reason I can understand why someone Swedish would be more interested in the traditional and familiar Swedish couple.
At the risk of sounding controversial I believe we should all be more careful when discussing racism in media. I can understand where you're coming from, but the severity of this issue is lessened when it keeps getting applied to the smallest of things that—in all honesty—don't really have a basis of racism in them. At least not for the majority of the show's audience.
As I've stated before, you are all allowed to disagree with me and critique me. In this particular instance I see no elements of racism towards Swedish people preferring Felicia and Ludde but there are of course people who might feel differently.
We're all allowed to interpret the show how we like, but as someone who is very involved with the fandom I haven't seen any signs pointing towards Swedish fans being racist.
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Handmaids Tale
Spoilers
As someone that has read the book, I watch the show objectively. It’s good enough on its own and has made great strides in making its own story.
The newest season is still airing, currently I just finished Season 4 Episode 5 “Chicago”, the latest episode. New episodes are available on Hulu every Wednesday. 5 episodes in and I’ll admit, the episodes are fantastic.
We as the viewer are still mostly with June, occasionally cutting back to Canada where her husband Luke and friend Moira are. We meet new characters to sympathetically hate, and briefly get to see a reunion with June and Nick. (My feelings on Nick are mixed that’s for another post) While the 5 episodes that have been released are heart wrenching, climactic, and entertaining, you can’t help but to be left with the sense of chaos.
The handmaids with June have been with us since season 1. While not all of them have played prominent roles, because of the knowledge we have about what they go through, we can’t help but to want better for them. The season premier was a 3 episode special where a lot of changes take place.
June is nursed back to health and awakes in a strange location with a child house mistress. Things get complicated, and eventually all of the handmaids are captured. They are able to escape but Alma and Brianna die in the process. Our group of survivors that have defied inexplicable odds in Gilead are taken out by bullets and a train.
In the most recent episode we’re left with more chaotic confusion. Janine, to the viewers surprise, decided to leave with June to search for a new resistance group when they’re hit by bombs. The episode ends with no conclusion on Janine but with a disoriented June being found by Moira, who joined the search and rescue for the 24 hr ceasefire.
While watching, you’re on the edge of your seat. There’s no question about the quality of the episodes. They are without a doubt well written. But it does leave the viewer with the sense of “they’re making this up as they go”. We know obviously that they are, these seasons were not written before the show aired. But it’s painfully obvious.
The killing of so many notable characters so close together, barely an episode a part, screams “after thought”. If the direction was June needing to be found alone, they should have started thinning the herd sooner. This way is so abrupt, and you can’t help but to feel it wasn’t worth it.
There’s a heavy “protagonist shield” going on. June always escapes the worst of it, the people she knew before Gilead are safe, but everyone she befriends in Gilead is practically sacrificial for her. It’s getting tedious watching her survive everything and seeing good characters killed off.
But, that’s just my 2 cents. I’ll be back to edit this periodically. This is a fast rough post on my phone.
#the handmaid's tale#june osborne#handmaidsonhulu#show review#show analysis#my take#the handmaids tale spoilers#writers on tumblr#original post#original writing#freewrite#janine#hulu originals#ilovetowrite#inprogress#first draft
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[CN] Idle Chat with Shaw
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a feature which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
The CN server was recently graced with a new feature called 随便聊聊 (“Idle Chat”), where you can select a mood and talk to the love interests about work, life, and studies :>
Idle Chat with: Gavin / Kiro / Lucien / Victor
[ WORK - Topic 1: Overtime ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: I don’t have to work overtime today! No overtime! I really don’t-- have-- overtime!
Shaw: I can sense your noisiness from your words.
Shaw: Since you want to kick up a racket
Shaw: Come watch our performance. You can scream and shout all you want.
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: I read a news article today which said that the more one does overtime work, the more efficiency goes down. I think what it says makes sense...
Shaw: It’s supposed to
Shaw: You’re not a robot
Shaw: Why are you always making yourself live like clockwork?
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: I have to work overtime again and again. Why are there so many things to do every day? My life has already taken the shape of overtime!!
Shaw: Mm, this is your ninth day of overtime this month
Shaw: It’s really quite a lot
Shaw: What time are you busy until? I’ll see if I’d be near your office at that time.
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[ WORK - Topic 2: Income ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: I finally got my pay! My shopping cart can finally be tidied up. I plan to get ALL colours of the spray paint you mentioned the last time.
Shaw: ...are you usually such a squanderer?
Shaw: I think you should get two basic colours to practise your skills
Shaw: When it comes to graffiti, it’s not as if the more gaudy the colours are, the better it looks.
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: The case I’ve been handling recently started off with an interesting concept. After changing it, it seems to have sunk into mediocrity. I feel perplexed.
Shaw: What’s there to feel perplexed about
Shaw: Haven’t you already found the answer
Shaw: Since you know it’s mediocre, don’t be satisfied with mediocrity.
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: There was something I really wanted to buy, so I waited till my payday to reserve it. In the end, it has a higher price now!!
Shaw: If it’s something I really want
Shaw: I’ll buy it directly
Shaw: The more you delay, the further it’d go from you.
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[ WORK - Topic 3: Program Progress ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: My colleagues and I completed an incredibly perfect proposal! Everything will be fine once it gets approved!
Shaw: No wonder you’ve been telling me that you’re busy these days when I ask you out to have fun
Shaw: I’ll let you rest at home these two days
Shaw: Your time after that has been reserved by me.
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: Every time it’s the end of the month, I’d start counting down to payday. Or else I’ll have no motivation to work at all...
Shaw: It’s so boring to countdown to payday,
Shaw: Countdown to something else
Shaw: For example, that there are only three more hours till you get to see me.
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: I suspect the other party is doing this on purpose. The program is almost about to be approved and now it got delayed by half a month! I’m never working with that company again!
Shaw: Since there’s still half a month
Shaw: Why spend half a month angry
Shaw: Let’s go, I’ll take you to do something that’d not make you angry.
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[ WORK - Topic 4: Program Results ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: Didn’t expect that this program would be so uncomplicated! I even thought I’d have to work overtime over the weekend, but I no longer have to. I’ll come find you at Live House over the weekend!
Shaw: Not bad, your other party is finally behaving.
Shaw: But I won’t be around this weekend
Shaw: Find me in the library
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: This program is finally over. I don’t have much of a desire to participate in the celebratory feast. I just feel that I’m finally free!
Shaw: Don’t celebrate that program
Shaw: Come join my band’s celebratory feast.
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: I took out a 50 cent coin to “assassinate” the other party. The other party is not only fussy, but also dares to lag behind in payment!
Shaw: He’s already behind in payment
Shaw: And you’re still hounding him for 50 cents?
Shaw: biu--
Shaw: All right, I’ve “assassinated” him already.
[Note] “biu” is meant to represent the sound of a bullet flying by!
🦈
[ LIFE - Topic 1: Losing Weight ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: The weight loss methods I collected were actually really useful. I’ve finally slimmed down by quite a lot! I can wear new clothes to the music festival now!
Shaw: You haven’t been drinking cola or milk tea recently
Shaw: Because of this?
Shaw: That outfit you prepared - even without losing weight, you’d still look pretty good in it.
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: Why haven’t I slimmed down even after trying so many methods...
Shaw: Watching you change methods to lose weight is pretty interesting
Shaw: Feels like I can write a thesis based on Pi Li Pa La
[Note] “Pi Li Pa La” (噼里啪啦) is one of Shaw’s nicknames for MC
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: I. Put. On. Weight. Again.
Shaw: All
Shaw: The
Shaw: Best
Shaw: In
Shaw: Losing
Shaw: Weight
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[ LIFE - Topic 2: Meals ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: Today, I discovered a small stall along the street! It’s very delicious!! I think you’ll also like the taste
Shaw: I haven’t even eaten it
Shaw: How do you know that it’s a taste I like?
Shaw: Arrange a timing, we’ll go together.
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: I visited a hotpot stall which is famous on the internet. It ended up being pretty much the same as the stall I usually go to...
Shaw: These stalls are all the same
Shaw: Focused on sales, and don’t create new flavours
Shaw: Next time, I’ll take to a hotpot place - that one can be called delicious.
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: I went for hotpot today. In the end, the chilli oil splattered onto my clothes... It was a new outfit I just bought - I’m so mad!
Shaw: ...
Shaw: Are you stupid? Next time, wear an apron when you eat.
Shaw: So how did the hotpot taste?
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[ LIFE - Topic 3: Reading ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: Yesterday, I chanced upon an especially good fiction book. I ended up being too engrossed in it, so it was daytime by the time I lifted my head...
Shaw: Sure.
Shaw: The “staying up late” champion goes to you
Shaw: I’ll be forced to take second place for a day.
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: I recently read a fiction book. The author kept writing about eating, sleeping, and building a garden... And she could actually write over 2000 pages worth of such day-to-day accounts??
Shaw: ...
Shaw: I have a new understanding of how bored you can be.
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: I just finished a book and am so angry that I’m turning uneasily on the bed!! The protagonist was in a piteous state from beginning to the end. In the end, the antagonist got away scot-free!
Shaw: Ah, I’ve read that book
Shaw: In the second book, the protagonist counterattacks
Shaw: ...does this count as spoiling the plot?
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[ LIFE - Topic 4: Games ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: Hahahaha! I defeated the boss in that wrestling game you mentioned. You won’t dare to look down on me now, right?
Shaw: ...
Shaw: You’ve already showed off on SNS, and now you’re specially sending me the news to show off again
Shaw: Looks like you really feel a sense of accomplishment.
Shaw: Fine, I’ll commend you.
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: I haven’t been able to find any fun games recently... Feels like they keep following the same pattern. It makes me want to start playing old games that I’ve already completed...
Shaw: Since you can’t find any fun electronic games
Shaw: Why not come out and have fun with me? You can even train your body.
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: When I played games today, I bumped into an annoying teammate. His standard was obviously average, but he kept blaming others for mistakes!
Shaw: Do you remember his ID?
Shaw: Send it over
Shaw: I’ll go meet him.
🦈
[ SCHOOL - Topic 1: Progress ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: This time, I’ve given myself sufficient time to prepare! My study plan is also set. From this weekend onwards, I’ll be in the library with you.
Shaw: You really want to come with me?
Shaw: Would you be sleeping in the library like the last time?
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: It’s not that I don’t want to study, but many things keep disrupting my studies. Actually, I really want to study...
Shaw: Just admit it
Shaw: You’re just not in the mood to study
Shaw: Want me to come over to help you change your mood into a studying one?
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: Even after reading the analysis, I can’t understand what it’s saying at all. I can’t study any more. I really want to become a salted fish swimming around in the ocean...
Shaw: A friendly hint
Shaw: Salted fish are dried fish, so they can’t swim
Shaw: If you want things to turn for the better, you could ask me for help.
[Note] Shaw’s uses an idiom in the final line, “咸鱼翻身” ( “xian you fan shen”), which directly translates to “salted fish turning over”. It’s a metaphor for a person who experiences a reversal of fortunes!
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[ SCHOOL - Topic 2: Homework ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: I breezed past the questions today! And I kept an hour free to practice the skateboard. Didn’t you say you wanted to teach me a new move?
Shaw: One hour isn’t enough to teach a new move
Shaw: It’s easy to fall if you practice it too quickly
Shaw: First, go to the location and let me see the results of your previous practice
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: I keep thinking that I’ve turned into an emotionless robot that goes through questions. I can’t find even a bit of passion in studying. Anyway, does studying even require passion...
Shaw: You’re asking me such questions? Seriously?
Shaw: My response is
Shaw: You don’t need it in studying, but you need it if you’re seeking knowledge.
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: I can’t finish it... I already have many things to do in the morning, and still have to rush my homework at night. It’s not like I possess three heads and six arms!
Shaw: Even though you don’t possess three head and six arms
Shaw: If you add the both of us together, there’ll be two heads and four arms
Shaw: I won’t do your homework, but call me if you need anything else.
[Note] “Three has and six arms” is a direct translation from an idiom, 三头六臂 (“san you liu bi”). It refers to someone who possess superhuman abilities
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[ SCHOOL - Topic 3: Pre-exam Revision ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: I just did a self-test and feel like the examination questions aren’t that difficult. Didn’t expect that the method you taught me on how to have a productive revision would be so effective!
Shaw: Of course my method is useful
Shaw: How else could I make it into Loveland University?
Shaw: After your exam tomorrow, remember to call me.
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: Does re-doing questions again count as revision... But no one can guarantee that these questions wouldn’t appear in the exam...
Shaw: It’s always better to do it than not to
Shaw: As the old saying goes, “Review the old and know the new”
Shaw: Start with the “review”.
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: I think the teacher has something against me. He said he wouldn’t test the parts that I already revised! How could he do this!
Shaw: It means you don’t know how to identify the essentials. Learn this from me.
Shaw: I can always guess the examinable areas
Shaw: The Old Man even asked if I secretly peeked at his teaching materials.
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[ SCHOOL - Topic 4: Post-exam celebration ]
1. Mood: Happy
MC: I’ve reached Live House. Where are you? Aren’t we celebrating how I’m finally free from the abyss of exams?
Shaw: Five minutes.
Shaw: I brought a cake
Shaw: Since it’s a celebration, it should be more official.
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2. Mood: Upset
MC: The exam is over. I’m free. As for the results, I’m not going to think about it. I actually feel a little empty...
Shaw: ...who was the one who wanted my help in comparing answers before the exam?
Shaw: You dared to waste my time, so wait for my punishment.
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3. Mood: Angry
MC: I compared answers with someone. I felt a chill. The important thing is that I wrote the correct answer for that final question. But my fingers itched and I changed it to the wrong answer ahhh!
Shaw: Since you’re wrong, why continue thinking about it?
Shaw: Let’s go
Shaw: I’ll take you to a place where you can let off steam.
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Prompt: "Why Me?" at a Destroyed Factory in a time when Time Travel was widely available with Arthur Morgan. [Arthur Morgan x Reader] [GN]
Words: 2.5k
A/N: This is an odd one but I like it :D, thanks for the request! I hope you all like it.
~~~~~~
With the alarm blaring by my bed, I roll over with a groan, just another day working at home in my PJs... and not seeing anyone... again—damn pandemic. As I was going about my day, I heard a knock at the door; curious about what or who it could be I, opened the door.
There stood a man wearing suit pants with a pocket watch at my front door, a slightly brown shirt with the sleeves rolled up and braces. He carried only an envelope that he held close to his chest, it had browned with age, and the corners had had a beating it was that old.
The man paused for a second, leaving me to stare at him while in my pyjamas - which I had just remembered. "Your name, it wouldn't be (y/n) (l/n) would it?" the man asked, curiously.
"It is, and what's your name?" I replied, not understanding why this man was here if he was a postman surely he would have just posted the letter.
"I work for the post office," so he was a postman. "and I've been waiting to deliver this letter for the past 30 years, it is our oldest letter..."
"That's nice..." I say, not sure where this conversation was going or why it was even happening.
"It's addressed to you," the man says as he hands over the letter "and it had been originally sent more than a century ago."
"Is this some kind of joke?" I ask, unsure as to whether I want to take the letter or not, "A prank?"
"No!" The man insisted "No, I just wanted to deliver the letter personally, to see who it's addressed too. Good day, (y/n)" at this the man turns around and leaves, heading back to his rather fancy car.
I watch him leave before I shut my door, looking at the envelope, it was indeed addressed to me, and it had pages and pages but on the very first page was a note, a single note.
"Meet me here, at 04/01/2021 at 4 pm.
Coordinates: 53.4814195, -2.22865000000002"
I was curious for a moment, but as I scanned the next page of the letter and accidentally saw the last page, I instantly knew I had to do as the letter asked.
The letter said I could only read one page at a time; it was more like instructions and as much as wanted to read the next page, I followed the letter's instructions.
~~~
On my second train journey to get to the coordinates, I quickly looked up where they were leading me again, it was an abandoned factory. I suddenly fell into the rabbit hole researching the factory - there's an old ghost story were workers would disappear, there were even eye-witness accounts saying they would vanish into thin air.
I read through the next page again; there was information that only I should know so I was still freaked out but the curiosity of why a person from over 100 hundred years ago, can know me so well.
As I carry my backpack off the train, I follow the phone as it takes me down side streets through the town centre. The anticipation is KILLING me, so it feels like I have been walking around for an hour now.
~~~
Eventually, I get to the abandoned factory, The road to it was surrounded by overgrown grass and trees that covered the sky, and there are several gates padlocked. I needed to climb over one of the fences with brickwork that had slightly crumbled down - just enough to get a leg up.
After rereading the next page, I take a quick look around, I've read that they don't even have a guard here, but the house down the street sometimes would ring the police if they spotted anyone trespassing - but if you went down the side further into the trees they can't see you.
When I got to the inside of the building, I followed this letter that the postman had given me,
"Second Floor, East Wing, Room 204"
I head in there, and I can feel the energy off of something that I couldn't see anything- in fact, I could barely see anything anyways the room was so dark, soot on the walls from cent, I walked closer into the room.
~~~
"I wouldn't move any closer if I were you."
I freeze, heart racing, I didn't think anyone else was in here, I certainly couldn't see anyone else.
All of a sudden, a match was lit, showing me dark eyes under a 'Ten-Gallon' hat as the stranger lit a cigar.
"I... I didn't think anyone else was here" I say honestly. "Just me and my friends" I lie.
"It's okay, friend, I ain't gonna hurt you," said the stranger, he spoke as if he was from an old western.
'friend?' I think as I squint through the dark to get a better look.
"You address me like you know me, do I know you?" I ask, unsure whether I want to keep talking to the stranger stood in the dark, abandoned warehouse - No, I do not.
"No, but I know you." The stranger replied.
"Is that so, well, I'm just gonna find my friends, I'll be back in a sec" I lie again, finding a polite excuse to leave.
"You don't need to lie to me. You haven't read the next page of the letter yet have you?" the strange cowboy said more than asked.
"You...How... You know about the letter?"
The stranger walked closer, walking into a patch of sunlight, I could see them more clearly. They wore a scruffy beard, a blue shirt and... gun, they had a gun, 'god I hope it's a prop' I thought, maybe I had walked onto a film set.
"You should really read the next page of the letter." They could sense my hesitation to take my attention away from the stranger. "It's okay. I'm going to stay here where you can see me."
~~~
I read the next page, which told me to read the page after too, this page explained that the stranger in front of me was a man named Arthur Morgan. A man who was not going to hurt me told me I should trust him since he is a friend, a good friend that I just hadn't had the opportunity to get to know yet.
As I read the pages, I kept looking up to make sure the man-Arthur kept his promise; he did, he was watching me as if he had seen me read this letter a million times before.
"As I said, I'm not going to hurt you" Arthur spoke up.
"Yeah, I know... I just read it." I felt like I wasn't really here.
"Yeah, that pesky letter. I bet ya have a couple a questions?"
"A couple? Yeah, more than enough" I replied, getting frustrated. "Why do I have this letter? Who Sent it? Why did it lead me here? And not that I'm judging but why are you dressed like a cowboy? And plea---se tell me that's not a real gun" I realise my voice had gotten louder and louder. This letter I had received had been weird from the start, but now it was too much.
Arthur chuckles, and I oddly find comfort in it but at the same time get more annoyed. "Okay 1) It is crucial that you got this letter and that's all I can say on that, other than..." Arthur contemplates his words. "it's gonna help some people, maybe even save some." Pause. "2) ain't gonna tell you tha', just tha' it's from a good friend, is all. 4 and 5) Because I am, and it is, is that a problem, darlin'?" Arthur says with a smirk as if he had won in some way.
"You missed 3" I reply smugly, "You missed question 3" I repeated, completely ignoring his comment.
"I was saving the best 'till last is all," He said with a roll of his eyes.
'the cheek of this man' I think as Arthur walks closer to the window, wiping dust and soot off of it, just enough for us to see in the room. He finishes and walks towards me, as he does, he gestures to the centre of the room.
"You can feel it, can't you? like a pull and a push all are the same time." Arthur asks. I can only nod, wanting to hear the explanation, Arthur continues, "It's a time..." He paused "oh what did they say it was again?" This time, speaking more to himself than me. "A time rift, it's a time rift."
"Okay... and what does that mean, exactly?" I ask, trying to understand.
"Listen, I don't know this crap okay, they just told me what to say, beyond that I have no idea. It basically means that... that time is weakest here."
"Meaning... what?"
"Meaning... Well, meaning we can go to one time and then to another... Not very frequently though, It can take a lot outa ya."
Suddenly we heard the gate outside creek open, scraping against the concrete. Arthur quickly grabbed you and dragged you to the closest wall, both of you ducking down underneath the window.
The police officers were chatting outside and weren't going to be there for a few more minutes; the letter explained that I should have enough time - if I did everything correctly and listened to Arthur, that pesky neighbour must have seen Arthur at the window before.
~~~
"What do we do" I whispered to Arthur, panicking slightly.
"It's okay, darlin', we hav'ta go through the time rift" Arthur whispered back.
"Why?"
"To get away from the coppas, to help the.. the people, like I said"
"I mean, why me? if you need to help people maybe get a doctor or nurse."
"It has to be you, okay and I can't explain why just yet, only with time will you understand, okay."
"Will I be able to come back if I go into the time rift thing, will I be able to come back?"
"Darlin', you won't ever wanna come back," Arthur said smugly despite the circumstances.
"Arthur," I said in a rather fed up voice.
"Okay, yes, you can come back... if you wanted to."
"And people need help?"
"Not just people, erm, ma friends, my team - if you will, even me."
I looked at him for a moment; I believed him wholeheartedly for some reason.
"I'll help you," I said in whisperer as I heard the police officers enter the building. "What do I do?"
"Well, you gotta think of the date and the place that you are going too, I brought a photograph with me." He said as he pulled out the picture, "You can keep that, jus' give it back to me later. So you gotta think of this place on this date and walk into it... It's that simple."
"Okay, come on then," you say as start walking toward the centre of the room, closer to the rift.
"Sorry Darlin', I'm not going to the same place as you."
"What, but you... you said I am going to help you, how am I supposed to do that if you aren't there" I argued.
"I'm gonna be there, just a few years younger, more arrogant and much more dashing." The police started walking through the second floor, having cleared the first floor. "You gotta go now; I'll be seeing ya, don't worry. Now go"
I stare at the cowboy again, he seemed sincere, and he was. He did mean it when he said that I could come back if I wanted, and I visited my family once a year for a month or so, but the wild west has been more home from this day forward.
He was also right about being more arrogant too.
~~~
As I landed on the firm grassy hillside, feeling as if every atom had been broken and put back together, I cautiously stood up. Turning around, I hear muttering from just over the hilltop.
I looked over the hill; you saw a giant campsite for at least 20 people; it was like a small town.
"Looks like we got a nosy one," A familiar voice said from behind me "what's your name darlin'... and why are you dressed so.. Unique like."
I turned around recognising Arthur Morgan as he sat atop his horse, a hide on the back. "Erm, hi" I reply as I realise this Arthur doesn't know me. "it's a long story, but if you're willing to listen and maybe read this..." I say as I show the letter that went on for pages and pages.
Arthur slowly warmed up to me; he didn't read past this page that I had yet to read myself; he was respectful of that at least.
Arthur spoke to his friend and gang leader 'Van Der Linde' about let me stay, "They'll be my responsibility." was all Arthur had said, with a nod and a grunt his friend walked off before following with...
"Get 'em some clothes, they look ridiculous."
~~~
Arthur was rather sweet to me, he showed me how to hunt and gather food - also how to cook it, just wait for the stew it is rather good.
I helped Arthur redeem himself and his name - which took a lot of work, but it was worth it.
As I said, Arthur took me in, and we grew close, years later we settled down on a farm and lived an honest life which we're both happy with.
After about a decade together we realised it was time... We had to send me/my younger self through the Time Rift. We travelled day and night for a week in order to reach the old factory, which at this point was just a few years old and bustling with people.
We snuck in through the back exit and said we are health inspectors on a new programme, here to check the disappearances. As soon the factory was being built, people started to go missing - no one had ever been that tall before, and so no one had managed to go through the rift before.
They let us in instantly and even walked us up to the rift, we were left alone for a moment as I said goodbye, he would be back I wasn't sure when, and he would see a me that didn't trust him, that didn't even know him.
After he went through the rift, I headed back to our home, where I hoped beyond hope he would make his way back home - he does.
So as I write this letter to you, hoping that you won't cheat and flick through the pages as time travel can be a tricky subject - I know you read the last bit of the last page.
I am you, from your future and I need your help.
#LIFics#Prompt Subway#Red Dead Redemption 2 Imagine#red dead screenshots#red dead x reader#arthur morgan x reader#red dead 2 imagine#arthur morgan imagine#gender neutral reader#gender neutral!reader#arthur morgan x female!reader#arthur morgan x male!reader#male!reader#female!reader
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