#But ive yet to find them and searching seems like effort so
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RebelCaptain Secret Santa 2023
Hi @luciechat !
I’m not your original RCNSS, but I volunteered to whip up a little something for you when your original SS had irl happenings that prevented them from writing it.
Your prompts honestly sounds very much like something I would like to read. As usual, this almost grew a life of its own and I hope it meets enough of your prompts to make it enjoyable. It's titled <a href=https://archiveofourown.org/works/52791835>Choice</a> and it's also on AO3.
It’s been a heck of a year and I haven’t really written anything for a long time, so I really hope you’ll like this.
Enjoy! (Summary is below; full fic below the cut.
*****
She scoffed, sipping again at her cider. “Cassian, the only reason I’m even here in the first place was because Melshi and the others broke me out of prison. You can’t seriously think I actually would have come if I had been given the choice? With who I was then? Not a chance.”
Nearly a year after Scarif, the surviving crew of Rogue One found themselves fully immersed in the Rebel Alliance’s efforts against the Empire. Not only was the Alliance searching for a more permanent base after evacuating Yavin IV, but they were actively and heavily recruiting to boost their numbers, which is how Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso found themselves on the miserable little world of Agmir.
Cassian had only been fully cleared for all field missions a month previously, finally relieving him of the frustration of being on desk duty and intelligence analysis. During his lengthy recovery (which involved several surgeries and many hours of physical therapy), he and Jyn had grown closer. Jyn’s recovery had taken much less time than his and, as she found her place in the Rebellion, her talents as a fighter and coder had not gone unnoticed. Jyn had already been on a few missions with the Pathfinders and given several (unofficial) sparring lessons, but she always returned to Cassian’s side after each mission.
Once Cassian was cleared for full duty, he made it clear (with Jyn’s permission) to Draven that he would only be taking field assignments with her as his partner. (As much as it pained him to not have K-2SO by his side, Cassian had yet to find a suitable body for the droid’s backup disks.) Draven had then given him the assignment to investigate the planet Agmir for possible Alliance recruits and suppliers. A milk run, really, an easy job that Cassian hadn’t had to do for years, but having a non-life-threatening mission for once had seemed appealing at the time.
If only he had known about the rain.
Agmir was a developed planet, semi-populated, with the standard sector mix of rural and urban, wealthy and less-fortunate, law-abiding and law-breaking. For most of the planet’s rotational period, it was temperate – a few rains here and there to avoid droughts, but mostly pleasant. For the remaining two standard months, however, Agmir received eighty percent of it’s annual rainfall, resulting in daily rain and many destructive storms.
And, of course, Cassian and Jyn arrived a month into that two-month window. They realized very quickly that the rainy season was not prime time for tourists or even off-worlders in general, so they changed their cover stories from a clueless vacationing couple looking to explore the ‘edges of civilization’ to a pair of traveling laborers looking for work who had the poor luck to land on Agmir during the worst time of the year.
The rain would be bearable, Cassian thought as they entered the local bar and shook the rain from their shoulders, if only we were getting results. As Jyn walked to the bar to get drinks and Cassian headed for what had become their customary seats, he reflected on what was likely to be a failed mission. They had visited several cities so far and had currently been in this primarily working-class city for a week now. Typically, those lower on the social rungs of society tended to be more sympathetic to the Rebellion’s cause and more willing to fight for it.
However, it was becoming quite apparent that the people of Agmir were completely uninterested in any of the happenings of the galaxy outside of their little world – no one had even remotely shown any desire to stand against the Empire. And Agmir didn’t produce anything that the Rebellion could use; at least, not that they couldn’t get elsewhere for lower costs and easier shipping.
Jyn returned with two glasses of a simple brewed cider, easily the least alcoholic drink the bar offered and one that had become their go-to. They sat side-by-side on stools against the back wall of the bar, no table in front of them, but two small tables on either side, shared by other stools nearby. He took his with a word of thanks and kept his eyes on a group of five hard-looking laborers that had just walked in – already loud and possibly already drunk.
“So, when do we get to leave here again?” Jyn sipped at her cider, looking askance at his questioning expression as she did so. “Don’t give me that look. You know as well as I do that this place doesn’t offer us anything.”
“True,” Cassian replied. “We should stick it out until the end of the rainy season. Not being cooped up for days on end with nothing other than work to occupy the minds of the people could be helpful.”
Jyn rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen it before, Cassian – I used to be like every person here. Nothing will change their behavior until it affects them personally.”
Cassian’s attention was caught on the men who had walked in after them and he could tell Jyn was watching them, too. They seemed to be the rough and tough sort of folks – bodies large and shaped by decades of manual labor. But their voices were growing in volume, and they kept turning to look towards the rest of the bar. Cassian wasn’t sure if it was true, but he thought they looked toward him and Jyn a little more often than was normal. He kept an eye on them all the same.
Jyn’s words finally registered. He looked at her, lowering his drink from where he had raised it. “I don’t believe that.”
“What, that these people don’t care?”
“That you didn’t.”
She scoffed, sipping again at her cider. “Cassian, the only reason I’m even here in the first place was because Melshi and the others broke me out of prison. You can’t seriously think I actually would have come if I had been given the choice? With who I was then? Not a chance.”
Cassian took a drink of his own cider and watched the room for a moment before answering. “I saw you fight –”
His words were cut off by the sound of raucous shouting coming from the men they had been eyeing. One broke off from the rest and stumbled over towards them. Jyn and Cassian both put their drinks down and their hands drifted to their waists.
“You…girl,” the man slurred.
(Cassian amended his original notion – the men had most certainly been drunk when they arrived.)
“You, you should come over here. With us. We could – could show you a good time.” The man’s breath and words were laden with alcohol as he leered openly at Jyn, who stared stonily back.
“I don’t think that would be a good time,” she deadpanned.
The man scoffed and stepped closer. “How-how will you know if you don’t give us a try? We’ve seen you here, with him,” the man glared at Cassian as if he had been personally offended by the rebel captain.
“Me and my friends could wipe the floor with him in a tick,” he turned back to Jyn and smirked, “Then we could show you what a real man’s like.”
Cassian slid off his stool to his feet at the same time Jyn slid off hers.
“I said no,” Jyn repeated before looking to Cassian. “Time to go?”
He nodded once and they stepped forward, intending to walk past the drunken man and leave the bar. The drunkard had one more trick to try, however, and grabbed Jyn’s wrist as they stepped past.
Jyn’s other hand whipped out and caught the drunk on the chin, forcing his head up and back hard enough that the man released his hold on her. Howling in pain, the man stumbled back and held a hand to his face.
“You bitch! Forget a good time – I’m gonna kill you now for that.”
“Try it and you’ll regret every second,” Jyn hissed. Cassian looked around and saw that the commotion had roused the other bar patrons. Most were simply watching the altercation, but the man’s drinking buddies had risen from their seats now and were stalking in their direction.
Cassian slipped next to Jyn and placed a hand at her elbow. “We should go,” he muttered, low enough for her ears only, “We don’t need a scene.”
He felt her stiffen and saw a raised eyebrow. “It wasn’t me that started it,” she responded.
“I know,” Cassian smiled slightly.
Jyn followed his lead and turned to continue their path out of the bar, but they were stopped by the drunk man’s also drunken friends.
One of the bigger and burlier looking ones stepped closer. “You hurt our friend.”
“What of it?” Jyn asked, defiant.
Another spoke. “We want payback.”
“I don’t think you do. We certainly don’t want a fight.” Cassian knew his attempt at pacifying the men would likely fail, but he had to try.
“Oh, but we do,” said the man Jyn hit. The other men closed in.
Cassian saw Jyn reach just under the edge of her rain coat, where he knew her favorite set of truncheons lay.
Oh well, he thought and set himself into a defensive stance just as the men lurched forward.
---
Twenty minutes later found a drenched Jyn and Cassian opening the door to their rented room. As the door closed behind them, they peeled off their soaked outerwear and hung it to dry. Though given the chill in the room, their clothes weren’t likely to dry much.
The bar fight had not been a hard one. The drunks were easy enough to incapacitate; a few bottles had been broken (and maybe a wooden stool or two). Jyn and Cassian had maneuvered the fight out of the bar and away from the other patrons, but what had made it worse was that the moment they had succeeded in luring the men outside, the skies opened up, turning what had been a steady, if heavy, shower into an absolute downpour.
Cassian wasn’t sure if he had ever been this wet, even after Eadu.
He glanced over at Jyn, who looked back, just as soaked to the skin as he was. “You can clean up first. I’ll see about what’s wrong with the heater.”
“Thanks.” Jyn grabbed her pack and walked across the room to the small, attached refresher, closing the door behind her.
Ten minutes later, Jyn emerged, now in clean clothes with a towel across her shoulders to prevent her wet hair from soaking into her dry shirt. “Your turn,” she said, coming to stand beside where he knelt in front of the room’s heater. “Any luck?”
Cassian leaned back on his heels and shook his head. “No. I can reprogram droids without a thought, but this heater? Nothing I’ve tried has worked.”
Jyn reached out a hand and pulled him to his feet. “Go get changed – I’ll give it a shot.”
He flashed her a grateful smile before grabbing his own pack and heading for the ‘fresher.
When he emerged a few moments later, a second towel around his own shoulders, it was to the sound of low cursing coming from the area around the heater.
Jyn was kneeling by it, forcibly replacing the outer cover and cursing quite brilliantly under her breath as she did so.
“No luck?”
Jyn easily rose to her feet. “No,” she sighed, “At least it’s not cold enough to turn this rain to snow.”
Cassian hummed in acknowledgement as he stowed his bag next to hers by the door. The rainy season here wasn’t cold by most sentients’ estimations, but the dampness seemed to seep into the bones and make even a moderately cool ambient temperature feel much colder.
Body heat would likely be their best option for a safe sleep. Given how close he and Jyn had become, it wasn’t unusual for them to share a bed, though all they ever did was sleep. The comfort of knowing someone was near, was next to you – someone you could trust to have your back and protect you, should you need it – had given them a respite on the nights when their past became a little too prominent in their thoughts.
Jyn’s ease around him was obvious when she unerringly stepped forward and pulled down the covers on one side of the bed. “Are you coming?” she asked.
He smiled slightly and followed her lead, laying their towels across a nearby desk chair. As they settled into bed and dimmed the lights, a flash of red on Jyn’s arm caught Cassian’s eye. Her shirt sleeve had gotten pushed up enough to bare her forearm and he saw an angry red slash across it. He immediately sat up from the pillow.
“Jyn – what happened?”
She sat up as well. “What?”
“Your arm.” He reached for the injured limb and it was a testament to their familiarity with each other that she didn’t flinch away from his touch. He held her wrist gently as he turned her arm to see the mark on her outer forearm – a defensive wound, then.
Jyn stared at her arm. “Oh, it’s fine. It had stopped bleeding by the time I got changed.”
Cassian released her hand and slid back out of the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“We need to clean and wrap that. Who knows what was on whatever cut you,” he said, reaching his pack and removing the medkit.
“Cassian, it’s fine – it’s not even bleeding!”
He sat back down on the edge of the bed and held out his hand for her arm. “I’m still going to do this. An infection is the last thing we need right now.”
Jyn let him disinfect and bandage her arm. “Anywhere else?” he asked.
“No,” she responded. “What about you?”
He shrugged. “A few bruises, but they’ll heal.”
Jyn raised an eyebrow. “You made me show you mine. It’s only fair I get to see yours.”
Cassian flushed slightly and hoped the lowered lights would hide it. “Fair is fair,” he agreed, and showed her the two worst bruises – one to his ribs and one to his bicep. Her fingers lightly slid over the one on his arm and he could tell she was worried.
“They’re superficial, I promise,” he assured her, reaching for her hand on his arm and holding it tight. “I’m alright.”
They settled back down and further dimmed the lights, though they didn’t turn them off entirely and left just enough to see by if needed.
Side by side, they lay there and tried to rest. Cassian and Jyn both knew that Agmir was not what they needed, so they had decided on the way back to the rented room to leave the next day, rain or no rain. But to do that, they would need a good rest, if only a few hours’ worth.
Sleep proved elusive, however, as the chill of the room only deepened. The blanket provided to them in the room had previously been enough to keep them comfortable, but the combination of a cool room combined with the soaking they had received during the fight was proving difficult to regain that warmth and rest.
Finally, he had enough and turned to her, intending to offer the most basic way of warming he could think of.
“Jyn –”
She turned at the same time.
“Cassian –”
They both laughed lowly. “Go ahead,” he offered.
“No,” she said, still smiling, “You first.”
Cassian inhaled. “It’s cold in this room and I know you’ve got to be just as cold as I am. Why don’t we lay closer and share the body heat? It’s bound to be warmer than not.”
Jyn looked at him, thoughtful. “Okay,” she simply said, before sliding closer and curling against his side, her head on his shoulder.
Cassian froze. Jyn noticed and he felt her tense as well.
“Is this okay?” she asked, hesitantly.
“Yes, only let me just...” Cassian eased his arm out from under her to rest along her back. “Okay?” he asked, hoping she was comfortable. It had only been a moment for him, and he felt like he could rest there forever.
He felt, rather than heard her nod. Moments passed and Cassian felt himself drifting off when he heard Jyn speak.
“Cassian?”
“Hmm?”
“What did you mean earlier?”
Cassian woke himself fully. “When?”
The tone of Jyn’s voice was uncharacteristically vulnerable. “In the bar; when you said you didn’t think I was like these people. What did you mean?”
Cassian blinked, looking down at the top of her head on his shoulder.
“I mean that...I saw you. I may not know every detail of your life before we met, but I saw you then. I saw you fight for yourself. Fight to protect that little girl on Jedha. I saw you befriend two forgotten warriors so fast that they were willing to leave all they had behind to follow. I saw that when it came down to it, you wanted to do what needed to be done so others could have the chance to survive, to win – and your conviction was enough for others to stand and follow. That’s all this Rebellion really is – people who see what needs to be done and do it.”
Jyn was quiet for long enough that Cassian worried he might have overstepped. Then he felt her shift and lay her free arm across his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I see you, too. I see the man who has given his life time and again to a cause he believes in. A man that befriended the most annoying, most loyal droid in the galaxy. I saw you come back for me. You’re the only one who’s done that in a very long time.”
Cassian’s smile at the mention of Kay faltered a little at the reminder that many of the people in Jyn’s life (and his own if he was being absolutely truthful with himself) tended not to stay long. And they couldn’t promise each other a full life together either. Even if they were to ever leave the Rebellion, civilians were never safe in a war.
Cassian gently pulled Jyn closer to him and tugged the blankets a little more snuggly around them. A moment passed and he felt Jyn relax into the first tendrils of sleep. But maybe, he mused, maybe we should take our own advice and take the chances given to us.
A gentle smile graced his face with the hope of the future as Cassian followed Jyn into sleep.
#therebelcaptainnetwork#rebelcaptainsecretsanta#luciechat#fanfic#gift fic#rebelcaptain#secret santa 2023#cassian andor#jyn erso#star wars#rogue one
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Ive already seen some people getting angry over this so thought I'd give my take <3
Ive already completed lesson 11, so now Im just waiting for lesson 12. But shit really starts to go down in lesson 11. So spoilers for that.
Lesson 10 is when the demon brothers (minus Beel and Satan) find out MC is a human. I blame Diavolo because he practically forced us to reveal ourselves. Lucifer and Belphie are pissed, while Mammon, Asmo, and Levi seem a bit more conflicted. Before things can escalate, Solomon shows up and helps MC escape.
Lesson 11, MC and Solomon have fled to Thirteen's cave. More specifically, the Fountain of Knowledge, a room that belongs to Solomon and not Thirteen despite it being apart of her cave. The only rule being that you cant make promises, with the reason yet to be revealed. But it isnt long until the demon brothers (minus Satan, Beel, and Belphie) show up in search of MC.
MC runs into Levi, Asmo, and Mammon first, who warn them that Lucifer is also searching for them. Shortly after, Thirteen shows up to inform MC that Lucifer is in the Fountain of Knowledge. MC decides to go and try to talk things out with Lucifer. But considering this is Lucifer, it doesnt go accordingly.
Lucifer immediately goes on the offense. Despite MC saying they are not an enemy, Lucifer doesn't believe them. He's suspicious of them, and conflicted. Its implied here that Lucifer tries to kill or at least badly injure MC, using his power to inflict a feeling of being squeezed so hard your body may be crushed. Eventually, Thirteen intervenes, claiming that she "likes MC more than Solomon" because of MC's soul. So she chooses to give MC a grimoire, one that can supposedly control the demon brothers. This may be the same grimoire they keep in the tomb beneath the House of Lamentation in the future. But the rest of what happens isnt important here, just the part about Lucifer being hostile.
Ive already seen posts going on the defensive about how terrible Lucifer is and that they'll never forgive him for this, etc.. Like ok. Is this new? Absolutely not. He tried it twice in the previous game. I honestly don't care if you hate Lucifer. But before you cast such harsh judgement, please try to understand his actions.
Lucifer is not some cold-hearted individual. His motive in Nightbringer is the exact same in the previous game. He viewed MC as a threat to him and his brothers. Probably even more so in Nightbringer due to them having the Ring of Light and being able to draw power from the brothers.
By this point, Lucifer has seen MC knock Satan out and subdue the others and himself with a simple command. He has seen MC draw power from his brothers and himself to knock Beel out. His brothers claim to have seen MC do the same thing to send someone to the Celestial Realm. In his eyes, MC should not be able to do any of this. They shouldnt even have the Ring of Light. Yet they do have it, they can do these things. And that worries Lucifer.
Imagine for a moment- its been approximately a year since the Celestial War. A war in which you were rebelling, primarily to protect your sister from death. Yet she died anyway, making the war ultimately meaningless. And you dragged all your brothers down with you. As a last ditch effort to save her, you promise undying loyalty to the Prince of Demons. And after a year, a random demon shows up and is appointed as attendant for you and your brothers. And they start helping, and things start getting better. Suspiciously better. You dont understand this demon's motives, what could they possibly want? They're the apprentice of Solomon... And seem to hold intensive power.
Suddenly, you witness them wearing the Ring of Light. A ring that once was yours, back in the Celestial Realm. But they shouldnt have that. They use it to draw strength from you and your brothers to use as their own, and you hear this is not the first time they've done this. That at one point, they managed to send someone to the goddamn Celestial Realm. Only for you to now learn that they are a human. Meaning they've been lying to you this entire time. What else could they have lied about?
You cannot fucking tell me that you wouldnt be paranoid. From our perspective, yeah its a bit terrifying being attacked by Lucifer. But from his? Its makes a lot more sense once you think about it.
If you still dislike Lucifer after reading this-- thats fine. Its your opinion, after all. You dont HAVE to like him. But understanding his actions can at least lessen the anger.
#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me nightbringer#obey me!#obey me! shall we date#obey me! one master to rule them all#obey me! nightbringer#obey me lucifer#obey me! lucifer#om lucifer#om! lucifer
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Mushy May Day 4: First Kiss
ive decided to show some love for an old ficlet for day 4, hope thats alright! original post can be found here
Words: 911
Parings: Cumulus/Sunshine
The new summons behaves generally like what she’s named after—a ball of sunshine. Her radiant aura and bubbly character shone through immediately, and so they named her Sunshine. There was talk of ‘Victory’ and ‘Stratus’, too, but nothing stuck like ‘Sunshine’ did.
To see her upset had quickly been deemed a rarity or a total improbability. So, it broke Cumulus’ heart to find her one morning sullen and teary-eyed, curled into the smallest ball possible on the corner of her bed. The first breath of daylight shines through the leaded glass and onto her shaking form, bathing her in somber, cool tones.
Sunshine’s back is to her, and Cumulus isn’t sure she’s heard her in the doorway yet. It feels too intimate, too vulnerable to disturb her in a mood like this, even though every fiber of her being is saying go to her, care for her. Truly, she’s about to step away before a loud sob shakes Sunshine’s entire body, the broken sound of it echoing into the hallway. It cuts Cumulus deeply, a dull sting that she immediately moves to soothe.
“Sunshine?” she asks quietly. The smaller ghoulette’s breath hitches at Cumulus’ voice, but she doesn’t answer.
“Can I come in? I don’t want to intrude, but . . .” She cracks the door open halfway, pausing with her hand on the knob.
“S’okay,” Sunshine breathes, almost imperceptible. Cumulus sighs internally with relief and enters quietly, shutting the door fully behind her.
“It’s Cumulus,” she says gently. “Can I sit on the bed with you?”
Sunshine nods her head silently. She looks up at her with red-rimmed eyes, watching her as she sits on the opposite corner of the mattress.
“Do you want someone to talk to?” Cumulus resists the urge to gather her up into her arms and coddle—she still isn’t sure where Sunshine’s boundaries lie. She likes Sunshine; she doesn’t want to overstep by imposing her mothering onto her.
Sunshine sniffles and considers for a moment, eyes fixed somewhere on the space between them. “Would you, um . . .” Her eyes slowly drag themselves up to Cumulus’ face. “Could you hold me?” she whispers, voice stifled by a choked-down sob. That lump in her throat bobs, lip quivering as she waits for an answer.
“Oh, Sunshine,” Cumulus says sadly, shifting her body so Sunshine has space to crawl into. “Come here.”
The small ghoulette drags herself into Cumulus’ lap and winds her arms around her middle. She tucks her head into her shoulder with a sigh. Cumulus pulls her in, encircling her with her warm arms. Sunshine feels small, both physically and emotionally, and she’s trying and failing to hold back her tears, shaking with the effort.
“You don’t have to hold it in. I’m here.” The words make the dam break, and Sunshine’s chest heaves with sudden sobs, like they’re being wrenched straight from a broken heart. Cumulus rubs her hands up and down her back, swaying the both of them back and forth like cattails in the wind. Sunshine doesn’t speak, and Cumulus doesn’t prompt her—she just lets her cry into her shoulder, releasing whatever hurt she’s burdened with.
Cumulus’ shirt is soaked with tears and mucous by the time Sunshine’s sobs subside, but she doesn’t care one bit. The sun had further risen, tracking a patch of warm light to their corner of the bed. It seems to have soothed Sunshine in part, along with Cumulus’ gentle rocking.
Sunshine sniffles and raises her head from Cumulus’ shoulder. She blinks wearily, taking in Cumulus’ face like she’s seeing her for the first time. She smiles shyly.
“’M sorry,” she says, voice hoarse and thick with the aftermath of tears.
“Darling, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Cumulus’ clear blue eyes flick between Sunshine’s warm hazel ones, searching.
“I’m just . . . having a hard time. I’m not used to this body, this,” she gestures vaguely, “anything. I feel helpless. Worthless.”
Cumulus frowns. “I’m so sorry you feel that way. You’re not worthless. We’re all really grateful you’re here.”
Sunshine makes a small noise, ducking her head away from Cumulus’ gaze.
“Hey.” Cumulus cradles her face in her hands and smooths her thumbs over her cheeks. “I really mean it. You already mean so much to all of us. To me.”
A rosy blush blooms across the freckles on her nose and reddens the tips of her pointed ears. Sunshine’s eyes dart back to her face, down to her mouth.
“D’you really mean that?” It’s whispered like a confession, hidden meaning hanging on her tongue.
Instead of answering, Cumulus inches closer—carefully, like Sunshine might fly away like a frightened bird. But she doesn’t. Her breath hitches as Cumulus closes the gap between them. Sunshine’s eyes flutter shut as that plush mouth meets hers, light and tender. Sunshine’s hands tighten against Cumulus’ waist, clinging to her as she lets herself be drawn closer. It’s as sweet as a drop of nectar, as soft as the fuzz on a bumblebee. It’s all Cumulus can think of in that moment to show the new summons how much she truly cares.
Cumulus pulls away after a lingering moment, still close enough that she can smell that ripe citrus scent that’s uniquely Sunshine. She bumps her nose affectionately before resting their foreheads together.
“I mean it,” Cumulus says with a smile.
Sunshine huffs a laugh, the end of it catching on a sob. “I like you, ‘Lus. A lot.”
“I like you too, Sunny. We all do.”
#ficlet#mushy may 2023#the band ghost#the band ghost fanfic#fanfic#cumulus ghoulette#sunshine ghoulette#cumulus x sunshine#sunshine x cumulus
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𝕺𝖚𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖑𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 - Chapter IV
𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: Ominis Gaunt x Female Reader
Tags: Fluff, the slowest of burns, Angst (but not really because I’m too soft for that). Mutual pining. Also, the plot is plotting, so be patient.
𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Amit and Garreth start working together to pry on professors' chambers inside the castle. They do find intriguing news involving Mirabel Garlick. Naturally, Imelda and you decide to investigate further, and somehow that leads you to Hogsmeade. Meanwhile, Natty and Poppy had and idea when investigating further on the Black Lake's situation. The dots are starting to connect, but more troubles appear when Anne confronts Ominis at the Undercroft, he needs your support quickly!
𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 5,291 words.
✧❈Chapter 3 | Masterlist | Chapter 5 (wip)
Chapter 4. Longing Warmth
September 20th, 1891. Hogwarts
Not a week has passed since Natty convinced me to team up with her band of lunatics and yet we’ve already made important advances. Frankly I’m not sure who’s crazier, them or me, who has put all his efforts on our quests. As a matter of fact, Garreth Weasley has become my partner in crime quite in a literal sense, and I’m truly impressed by his sharp mind and intuition. He has even influenced me into daring more since our tasks involve breaking into professors’ private chambers and stealing information one way or another. Of course, I’d never admit he’s been a positive influence on me, at least not in front of him.
Our labors are focused in searching for more of the anonymous notes. So far, we’ve found Ronen’, Shah’, Howin’, Hecat’ and Garlick’s. Every single one of them is written differently, and we’ve noticed some words are tinted bolder than the rest. I can only assume they’re meant to resemble a word when put together. Thanks to [Your Name] deciphering Madame Kogawa’s note, we’ve inferred those bold letters should indicate the direction to reply to and then, for the contents of our Flying professor’s answer, recipients should had received the details of a location outside the castle where they confidently reunited to discuss the contents of the note. Except, sure, that information could’ve been burned or destroyed after receiving it and there’s no way we could access to it.
Not everything is lost nor our efforts were in vain, though. For Garlick’s response made me believe she already knew the place and the aims of the reunion. If we must take risks to unravel this dilemma, I’d dare to say that Garlick is entirely responsible of all the notes. Although seems unlikely. Judging for what we know of her personality, it doesn’t seem like something she would do. But then again, maybe that’s the reason why she’s the most fitted person to exhort all professors to take action. And maybe Garlick’s not working alone but most certainly she's brave enough to stand against whatever she finds unjust. Owns initiative and she's unconventionally young for a professor which's been proven to imply a certain level of rebelliousness, and if that wasn't enough, she cares for all students deeply.
That’s why I asked Imelda to investigate her further (I'm still amazed that she agreed to work with us in the first place. One thing is certain: Natsai is exceptionally persuasive). Since I have access to Garlick’s schedule, I’m most confident Saturdays are the days she heads off to Hogsmeade to visit shops and The Three Broomsticks. This morning Imelda told me she would take [Your Name] with her. Although her recent popularity amongst students, professors, and journalists after last year events could prove counter-productive in their efforts to remain unnoticed, I didn’t try to stop them though. They make quite the team for a pair of Slytherins so different from each other. Or maybe they have more in common than they realize, just as I did with my now companion Garreth.
- Amit Thakkar
After Amit finished writing this new entrance in his logbook, he then positioned the freshly written pages just close enough to the candle beside him. Suddenly, the words began to disappear. A powerful yet unpopular enchantment; not even Headmaster Black will be able to guess the activities registered on it. Originally Amit used it to write scattered ideas for the history books he wants to publish as soon as he graduates. The enchantment had the purpose of hiding said lines so no one could steal his research from him. However, current events demand other uses for it. Finishing those labors, he realized how much time he spent working last night. Another sleepless night, he thought. The mirror that hanged from his wardrove reached his figure and casted the reflection of insomnia that he’s so familiar with. The bluish dark tones under his eyes seemed out of place from the sky-blue of his nightclothes, it told him it was time to rest; yet his grunting stomach demanded food as the first lights of dawn painted the windows of the Ravenclaw Tower. Breakfast it is, and with a silent salute to his still deeply sleeping roommates, his enchanted candle was extinguished.
As Amit was getting ready to finally leave his room, he watched through a window noticing a couple of figures, which he quickly assumed belonged to Natty and Poppy, even if he watched them just for a moment. They should be wandering around the shore of the Black Lake, investigating the recent fog the appeared out of nowhere that blocked any sight one could have of it from the castle, just as they arranged a few days ago. He couldn’t help but wonder if someday he'll be able to overcome his fears and worries and naturally give into the adventure, just like Garreth, Poppy and Natty do so effortlessly. He might call his new companions barmy fools but deep down he admires their traits such as bravery and loyalty. Not to mention they’re powerful witches and wizards too. Maybe their cause could bring them all together, maybe this is the start of the friendships he so strongly longs for.
Amit was right, those were Natty and Poppy, and yes, they headed moments earlier to the point where Amit watched them wander before the fog hid their figures again. This is what they know until now: The glowing creatures that attacked the squid were nowhere to be found after the incident, rather a mysterious cloud covered the entirety of it no longer after.
Natsai pointed this was the perfect scenario for Phineas Black to hide whatever is happening underwater, and Poppy believed pollution was responsible for it, “I’ve seen it in the muggle world with their so-called Industrial Revolution. Water sources are the very firsts to get compromised when dealing with machines or industrial processes.”, she said. The Hufflepuff girl holds that Black is probably working something along those lines with the Ministry; now that wizarkind recovered the control over gobblin metallurgy once again. Causing, by the way, that numerous organizations and unions both gobblin and wizardkind express their discomfort; for they assure nothing has change to assure equal treatment between magical kinds. Rather find in Ranrock’s death a solid argument about the Ministry's oppressive methods against anyone who’s not wizard-born (as evil as he might have been). Then again, Natty and Poppy only have their guesses about what’s happening under the Lake, merely assumptions with no further evidence; that led them to this moment. In any case, they both find intriguing that said fog emits no smell.
- “We ought to be careful. It’s unsure if this fog might harm the skin as other pollutants do.”
- “And yet, if this was byproduct of some sort of pollution under the lake, there are nor dead fish around the shore nor birds avoid flying over the area, they just adventure inside not sensing any dangers.” – Natty objected Poppy’s warning.
- “Perhaps there’s something more that we’re not seeing.” – Poppy added as she regarded around their backs looking for other curious students or professors. - “Speaking of seeing, do we have the invisibility potion with us?”
Natty stood from where she was extracting small tubes of water and dirt for examining later. – “I do have them with me, although we’re not staying any more time. We've already spent a couple of hours around the area, I don't think we'll be able to find anything else for now. I was actually expecting you to accompany me to Hogsmeade. We’re sort of meeting [Your Name] there, that’ll provide us an alibi too, just in case… Besides, we need to hand her these tubes, so she studies them later just as she did with Kogawa’s note.”
- “Now that you mention it, aren’t you curious how she manages to do all these things without Prefects or Professors noticing? I’d never doubt her abilities. It’s just…”
“Curiosity, of course.” – Natty realizes she’s feeling more comfortable with her new companion now that they stopped small talking and passed on to genuine questions. Sure, they've knew each other from classes from this last six years. It’s just that they’d never happen to coincide. Not really. – “Indeed, she has not mention something as a secret spot for her to study, and the restricted section is out of anyone’s possibilities, so one could dismiss the idea of classrooms or public places. I’ve just decided it was best to not know. If anyone but her knows about it, that would put them in danger of Headmaster’s spying ears; this is her protecting us. However, I appreciate you asking me this. If you’re friend of hers surely you possess certain sense of wonder. She was right that we would get along.”
- “Oh, really. What did she tell you exactly?” – Since Poppy is new making human friends, she blushed at the thought of you pairing her with someone you consider alike and approachable, someone that matched her interests and values. She imagined you had to meditate before making them the suggestion of working together a few days ago. This too, is you protecting your friends.
One thing led to another, and as Natty and Poppy made their way out of there, they shared stories about last year’s adventures beside you. Quickly finding Natty helped rescuing Highwing, Poppy felt a deep connection already, she will be forever in debt for that. “Now, any friend of Highwing is good friend of mine.” They both laugh thinking the credit to the intermediary in their friendship lay between a hippogriff and an ancient magic promised witch. Now, the deal for handing you the testing tubes was leaving them at the same place you found Natty’s wand when you both rescued Isko Rabe, at the small dock behind the Hog’s Head Inn. Once that was done, they leave for treats at Honeydukes. They certainly earn it, for they’re heroines from the Wizarding world, but teenagers too.
- “I think you’re right, by the way.” – Poppy said when trying the chocolate frogs while wandering the shop with stiff manners and low-pitched conversations. – “About what you said of having a spot hidden from vigilance of all sorts. It could mean putting us and [Your Name] at risk. But if she knows about somewhere we could gather all the information we find directly... on an assembly, if you will, this should reduce the rest of equally dangerous communications we’re having at halls or grounds secretly and individually. We could also get rid of burning notes that potentially could fall into the wrong hands. Even if they’re charmed.”
- “Not only to gather after making advances. Lately I’ve been thinking the risk that means to our cause that all of you are still using wands that could be tracked. I was planning on teaching Garreth to cast magic with his bare hands after what happen the first day at Charm’s. But now that you mention it…” – Natty admitted.
- “…We could train together. Of course, we’re not sure if such place exists. But we should ask her. Or search for one ourselves. We could do that on our own, don’t we?”
Natty offered a conspiratorial smile. – “I like the way your mind works.”
September often favors its days with sudden temperature changes that only those able to foresee it -with or without magic- appreciate it fondly. It’s like a treat if you’re well sheltered. As the firsts drops sing their ballad over rooftops Imelda thanked that she took the time earlier this morning to spear a light coat for the evening. You couldn’t say the same and now you’ve found yourself in the predicament of shielding from the rain with the velvet jacket you wear only on weekends. Your favorite one, no less.
– “There they are. These samples should be enough.” – You said with an already damped hair whilst putting the tubes safe on your satchel.
-“Alright, it's done, where are we heading? I already lost a perfect morning to your secretive rendezvous. Now that is raining Merlin knows how long must pass until I’m able to practice again. If rain doesn’t stop soon…"
–“Yes, yes. The quidditch season already started and you need to practice, you made sure I was aware of that. I shan’t take more of your time, Imelda. As a matter of fact, you could simply leave and I could take it from here.” – You stated firmly already impatient from listening to Imelda complain from the previous hours. It surprised you how all it took to make her annoyed was the simplest fly that passed by or the indifferent carts pulled by thestrals (even if she’s not able to see them). Made you wonder why she would agree to work with you at all.
But the moue she made proved she too understood why it was best to not be left alone now of all times. As irritated as she is, Imelda owns a strong sense of fairness and her judgements are reasonable, she’s just unfathomably passionate. – “Just lead the way.” – The plan was simple: search for Garlick with the sole purpose of finding about the places she frequents. Soon enough will come the time to interrogate those people. Except for Sirona, of course, she mustn’t know a thing about this. Hopefully these contacts will provide with clues to follow about clandestine meetings between professors. Truth to be said, your expectations were realistically low for the risks you’re taking by spying on Mirabel Garlick. Yet, her partaking is the only solid evidence you possess for now. Thus, the search started.
For a while, the solitary alleys covered in puddles and the shops emitting warmth from the inside were all you'd meet. Hogsmeade felt like a maze on days like this. Imelda suggested the crowd must have hidden inside the establishments or perhaps went straight home now that is pouring. This is unfortunate for two wandering students since in such circumstances you can't pass unnoticed. You were about to point this to your companion when a tall figure trailed a shadow on the corner you both were about to cross upon. You stopped on your tracks already opening the flask of the invisibility potion you carried (a mandatory item to all the members of your group). Imelda assured you there was no need for that with a hand movement, you both watched the owner of said shadow instead: Ex auror Aesop Sharp.
His gestures implied a certain clandestineness, he too was being cautious, not wanting to be detected. Even though his dark raincoat covered from his head to heels, you were sure it was him by the distinctive limping of his leg. You forbid yourself from following him, rather trying to catch something from the picture in front of you at a safe distance. Watching for any sings of what was he carrying under his damped garment, searching for someone following him, looking for the reason he seemed so uneasy. Whatever it was, it stopped him from noticing the two Slytherin students he’s so familiar with. Now that you think about it, surely Sharp interacts constantly with Imelda being your Head Girl and all that. As for you, well… As Head of the House, he’s been keeping opportunistic journalists away from plaguing you with interviews that they search so eagerly to get just so they publish blatant lies about the Hero of Hogwarts anyways. Such desperate vultures, he thinks. Any type of reaction you could have on that moment flew out of the window when Imelda dragged you from your thoughts yet again, - “I swear you’re away with the fairies, aren’t you? I’ll definitely leave you here if you can’t pay attention. Look!”.
The too familiar auburn-haired witch crowned with a green hat nearly escaped the corner of your eyes. Mirabel Garlick finally made her appearance holding a fair number of gray sheets of paper under her arms. Interesting. Could that be the papyrus from which the subversive notes are written over? You need to come closer to catch the details. – “The potion, now.” – You commanded, ready to stop taking any more chances. You recognized the establishment Garlick just entered although you’ve never been inside. A printing house, popular for innovating the rudimentary methods form the Muggle world. The spells used to fasten the printing process, or the enchanted ink to change color, texture and design once captured onto the sheets are great examples. And forget not their most recent invention: The Howler, for urgent and imperatives messages. You both follow Garlick inside quickly huddling together at the corner with the tools for special commissions, listening the exchange of words between Mirabel and the manager.
- “Well, hello Professor. Right on time, we’ve just arranged the supplies for your order. Those are the sheets you’ve told me about; I presume?”-
- “You're correct as usual. I'm glad the place's empty. Mind if we keep this between us, thought? It would be… unpractical to explain to students. You know how these things are.” – Imelda punched your arm as telling you “It’s exactly what we are searching for.” The only problem: you were not expecting her gesture and your reaction made a few pots of tint spill on the floor calling the attention of your informants. The tension rose as Garlick took a few steps closer to you. What else could you do but to stop breathing? She got so close you can see the weariness in her façade, was this state new to her? You’d certainly failed to notice it before, Garlick has always give the impression of a healthy and energetic woman. Before you could draw conclusions, she decided to drop her interest on the corner of the shop and handed silently the gray sheets to the manager. The whole printing process passed with no more details about this special request. Instead, you learnt she meant to pay Sirona a visit just so she returns to the greenhouse again. A dedicated herbologist, no doubt.
Leaving the workshop was easier than expected and the rest of Garlick’s errands were ordinary at best. Her interactions were short and cordial; not ideal, as if she knew she was being listened to. That didn’t discourage Imelda, so she kept her guard on and followed your professor as close as possible. Not that you knew, since both of you were invisible to each other too, of course. Speaking of which, you guessed the potion could give you a solid half hour of its effects, but you much rather be far away from curious eyes when your figures appear again. Down the main bridge should be fine, you decided. The sign for you to gather there was decided earlier as well: casting a simple spell on the opposite direction from which you wanted to go. Nothing prepared you, however, to the lonely situation you’re in now. Still imperceptible, you called Imelda a dozen times with no results.
On such a moment, your voice echoing around the arches of the bridge felt as the most distressing sound in the world. The river growing from the recent rain hid your calls to anyone that could’ve listened, although you were irreparably alone, no doubt. The level of the canal ran wilder with each passing moment, and you opted to dissolute the spell and just get over with the mission. Oh, you couldn’t wait to take a warm fragrant bath and turn the heather on, get under a blanket, drink warm beverages… The Room of Requirements will spend a few moments arranging those petitions, that's for certain. But that must wait a couple of more hours. For now, Imelda needs your help, a charmed note that she took from the printing shop made sure to notice you.
“Sirona”, was the only word she managed to send, probably registering it with a whisper.
The Three Broomsticks looked fairly different from the last weeks; more people visit it during classes after all. The only protection you had this time was your unkempt hair and a muddied nose. A shy inspection of the establishment with revelio showed you Imelda’s footprints, and they led to the cellar that you now know as the back of your hand. So there you are, first thing you see down there is Sirona holding one of the freshly printed posters Mirabel carried. You hid as best as you could, dissillusionment spell should be enough for now.
- “I’m telling you; this will improve the situation my students are now dragged into. They need it.”
- “Always so thoughtful, but what if your Headmaster disapproves? I’m quite impressed you’ve come so far without him noticing. Or is it because he’s so busy bothering students?”
- “Whatever reason, it has bought us some time. I’ve been planning this the whole summer and the rest of Professors find it imperative, now more than ever. Not to mention the other issue that…”
- “Expelliarmus! Accio!” – Sirona interrupted and Imelda was pulled to your informants with no form to scape. – “I apologize, Mirabel, for disrupting you, it’s just I’m used to detect this type of intruders. Usually, they’re the kind of whom we’re witnessing: students.”
- “I demand you to let me let me go. This is just a misunderstanding. Where’s my wand?”
- “Miss Reyes, spying on your professor on the weekend! You have no idea how lucky you are. Imagine if you’ve listened any other word from our conversation, what if I was someone else?”
- “…That could only mean that we were right to assume that our professors are hiding something from us.” – You pronounced emerging from your hiding place ready to help your partner and with your wand ready. – “There’s something wrong with Phineas’ methods, and that worries you too. What I don’t understand is why won’t you tell us. We surpass him in numbers and power.”
Sirona finally put Imelda down so she could run to her wand while your next motion was quite the opposite, lowering your guard. – “It’s such a sensible matter, I don’t think I’m the right person to tell you.” – Garlick meditated.
- “But you’re the one that started all this, don’t you just say that?” – Imelda was ready to tell her about your quest collecting the notes and answers but chose not to since that would compromise the rest of your team. They don’t have to know that just yet.
- “Oh, this you mean? Ha ha ha ha” – Mirabel and Sirona’s expressions changed from worry to uncontrollable laughter. – “Oh, my dear, come see.” – The poster clearly exposed the words ‘YULE BALL, December 1891: A winter tale’.
- “A ball you say?!” – Oh, Imelda is pissed, disappointed, angry, exasperated. She rather had snitched the rest of the operation. A ball?
- “Well, of course. We’ve been organizing them every three years for generations. This year's was certainly a mystery. I was almost certain it'd be cancelled. Oh, that would have broken my heart.”
- “Professor Garlick, I hope this doesn’t come out as rude but… Nowadays’ circumstances may demand other priorities on our actions.” – You added softly to Imelda’s comment.
- “I understand you could find this a senseless frivolity, but maybe you both should open your minds to the possibilities. Maybe this is the precise moment where you need it the most.” – Sirona offered a warm smile, one of the very same that she gifted you all the restless nights you’ve had these past weeks.
- “Maybe is best if we don’t give you any more information. It’s a surprise after all, and I won’t be the one to spoil it. Also, if you don’t mind, I recommend you great discretion about our Headmaster’s situation. Until is safe to expose it to you students, you must trust that we’ll handle this. Do we have an agreement? Not a word.” – Mirabel was never severe, but she was firm and persuasive. There was no other way but to agree and walk away.
The road to the castle you made it with an awkward silence. Not for each other’s company, which now you find it at an easy affinity to be around, but because you felt ashamed of your whole operation. Mirabel and Sirona’s words were reminders of your age and inexperience. Now you’re doubting yourself. Were you so wrong to play detectives and risk more than your grades? Is it fair to demand to professors a few answers about the measurements they’re taking when the circumstances seem so overwhelming and incomprehensible? Your mind gathered insecurities, but Imelda knew you could do better than that. As if she could read your thoughts, she saw fit to stop.
- “Hey, do listen to me, and really listen, since I won’t be repeating myself. Garlick can be the best teacher of magical gardening in the world…”
- “Herbology.”
- “…But she’s not the bloody Hero of Hogwarts. Don’t you get it? You’re probably more experienced in defense of Dark Arts and combat than most of the aurors in the Ministry.”
- “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. But I must admit that last year was difficult to convince authorities to take satiating actions to investigate Harlow and Rookwood.”
- “There you have it. That didn’t stop you, did it? I can only guess they’re taking things the diplomatic way. We know better than that.”
- “What are you suggesting?”
- “We finish this game finding the writer of the notes and ask them to step aside but first they’ll tells us all they know. Maybe we’re making them a favor, they’re probably worried that all professors will lose their jobs. Well, then we don’t have much to be worried about. We’re just students after all. What can Black do to us? Send us to Azkaban? Imagine: The Headmaster that sent a whole generation of kids to prison because he felt threaten. Whole Wizarding world will laugh at him.”
- “I say you’re actually right, Imelda. Except for one thing.” – She arched her eyebrow distrusting whatever you’re next to say. - “I believe we’re not just students. We’re the very reason places like Hogwarts exists. We ought to defend that.” - This fresh dynamic with your partner sits well with you both. Who would have guessed, being the right opposites from the Slytherin’ spectrum.
- “Well, spokeswoman of the students and Patron Saint of the rebel youth, what is our next move?” – Imelda teased with renewed excitement.
- “Maybe we should go back to the beginning. Do you fancy contemplate some portraits?” – Just like that you’re back on track.
The Undercroft was considered by the Gaunt’s a necessity inside the castle more than an eccentric commodity. Ominis’ parents constantly comment in every family meeting that “The common room of our House can’t provide us anymore of a safe place for the kids. Not to mention the state of the rest of the Castle.”, implying that the ancient House of Slytherin was made exclusively by and for their kind, of course. As if Salazar was a man of family, Ominis laughed at the thought. In any case, the Undercroft isn’t as comfortable as his relatives swear it is. Not that he complains. After all, his cousins and siblings decided he could keep it to himself to hang around to his equally weird friends with the sole condition that they’re not mudbloods, or else… But they forget of his stubborn personality, for he does not give a single care to please any of them. However, Ominis wields no resentment for the youngest members of the Gaunt’s. On the other hand, the older ones were plain disgusting at the very least. Entire lives wasted with null questions about one’s background, system of beliefs, prejudices and sad excuses birthed from hate and ignorance that they dared to call ‘evidence of The Natural Order of the World’. He sometimes wonder if his aunt Noctua and him were mistakenly born in such a family since even the most reasonable ones of their kind give into the peer pressure. No one talks about how lonely the road of the rightfulness is when everything around you is profoundly wrong. He’s certain, nonetheless, this is the only way for him.
That’s why he doesn’t understand the cruelty of the words he’s listening to right now. One of his closest friends -the family he chose for himself- was demanding him to give account of his new accomplice… you. He should had known this would happen, instead he hid behind illusions; for whenever he’d bring Sebastian’s regret, Anne spared not a single trace of empathy, or so she tried to show. When she gathered enough words without her voice cracking, Anne would suggest that Sebastian could’ve never fall onto Dark magic’s tricks if not for the influence of your presence. You were permissive and encouraging with him at best; she says. Alas, if she only knew he already had darkness on his mind, for light and shadow lives inside every person she’s an acquittance with. No, it must be something else, Ominis noticed from the first time he met you that whenever Sebastian is around you he feels stronger, more confident, profoundly daring. But confessing to Anne this truth would break both of their hearts, as if admitting it out loud turns it a reality. He’s hiding again.
- “Your silence proves me right, Ominis. If not for her abilities, Ranrok would’ve never turn his sight to Feldcroft, allying with Rookwood, cursing me thus Sebastian obsessing with Slytherin’s manual of madness.”
- “Unless this curse allows you the art of reading minds, don’t assume my reasons for keeping my lips closed.”- The Undercroft felt colder than ever. - “I can understand how scared you are, Anne. I’m quite aware, perhaps more than anyone, the deep deception that is to witness the closest people to you turn into a sad mimic of the potential and warmth you see in them. But have ever occurred to you that I used to have a sister? Brothers too? To me, for the things they’ve arbitrarily done, they’re worse than dead. I’m as much as an orphan as you.”
- “Do not dare pronounce death as if you could recognize it on your very composition! As if its irremediable claws have ever lingered over your skin, its haunting howls and seas of sorrow. What do you know about death?” – Anne said feeling the same freezing breeze that Ominis experiences on the room thinking that is probably time to pay a visit to the Hospital wing again as dizziness wash over her from her wrath. But then again, if Anne only knew that he thinks of his aunt Noctua from sun to sun as her bones and notes were all he keeps of her. Soon enough both becoming but ashes.
Death, irremediable and redemptive, all he could think of. Solomon’s cruel qualities were trifles under the cloak of eternal slumber, and Anne decided to forgive and forget it all. Judging the dead is the highest frivolity for the living after all. But is it really? On the other hand, Noctua Gaunt has never been as enchanting and honorable as in death. A heavy stone made of guilt posed on Ominis’ shoulders from the moment he knew of her tragic passing until his elder years. But back to now, the trail of his thoughts landed on you yet again.
Are you remotely aware that you’re the relief he runs to when things becomes unbearable? Can you hear the very blood in his veins calling for you on moments like this? You better not, for his heart would break if he knew that -you- being unapologetically knowledgeable, decided to spare him from your aid. Ominis knows, of course, he can’t keep hiding under the excuses you make for him. You wouldn’t call them that, it’s just that the empathy you keep for him is simply peerless, an anomaly for him... You could let him know that the friendship you both share, you made sure to craft and curate it just for him. But are you remotely aware?
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#Hogwarts Legacy#Hogwarts Legacy fanfiction#Ominis Gaunt#Ominis Gaunt x Reader#Ominis Gaunt x MC#ominis x reader#ominis x mc#Hogwarts Legacy MC#Our Silver Lining#Our Silver Lining 4
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hi ren! i was wondering why you don't want your donation post tagged? tagging crowdfunding etc posts helps me find them again on my blog easily to rereblog in case they haven't hit their goal yet but i don't wanna make you uncomfortable
cw: weight talk/health issues
anon hiiii, i’m really glad you asked this and finally have capacity to write out fully why! so thank you 🤗
among the millions of users on this app, some things have gotten super cemented as The Way™ but that means staff knows it too.
while the 4 tags: “s***nal b***t”, c**wdf*nd”, “d**nation”, and “mu**al a*d” may seem helpful for sorting and awareness at face value, we as users have been using and overusing them for years. it’s like a sick joke to chronically poor “ebeggers” as we have been named by old reddit.
bottom line is staff hates poor people; even before they decided to take away tipping soon, they flagged posts and sh**ow ba**ed accounts, deleted users (usual poor and black/indigenous/of color) while letting gen pop think they were doing a good job. my main account has over 3k followers and i cant get any post i make over 3 notes anymore despite being a semi popular radical blog.
my messaging was taken away. i could hit post limit and still have activity of max 20 notes a day. the post itself could be randomly deleted or even hard to search all of a sudden even with a tag. it’s awful to be isolated on the internet when you’re poor. :/ call me paranoid but i barely touch my main account now.
anyway, my fandom blog doesn’t deserve a forced lack of community and i love you guys too much to not be able to see/be seen or talk to my friends. ive already been told by staff that this blog was flagged as spam once and they took away my messages, right after my last sciatic spasm. it took Weeks to get messages back.
it was awful, i was living in the dark and only eating egg cheese sandwiches or sugar rice and water bc i couldnt afford anything else. i’m not going back to that. i’ve gained weight that is making my bones hurt bc of my poverty food choices and forced sedentary lifestyle while healing my back. and i’m only just now getting back going walking and being employed sporadically. it’s super hard to not have help and not have a job bc of disability discrimination AND have deconditioned muscles. poor nutrition is horrible for muscle. it’s even harder to stomach getting 3 thousand notes on something and $17 while i owe Thousands the way it works on my main account.
if i can do anything to advocate for myself, it’s to ask this: dont use old, overused tags. get creative with tags so more people see and wont restrict me. tag comerades/mutuals in the post. tag the post with a random well wish like “good luck” or something. literally anything but the most common 4 tags. the same way people get creative with the name for their queues!
i made a post about other/different tags that can be used but it doesnt have a ton of notes, i tried looking for and i cant find it which shows 1. the tumblr tagging system still sucks 2. it will never get a ton of notes. many of the posts in the tags mention in the beginning of this post barely reach 100 notes. mathematically a post could need like 9,000 notes to be fully funded depending on the amount. there’s a post in there with 22 notes, unless that person makes a new post everyday (i know a person who does that), it’s a wasted effort and some days i barely have spoons to get up and relieve myself tbh :/
anyway, especially with things that took years to happen or months to fix, it’d just be nice if post got notes into 1k-10k territory to be effective.
i hope some or any of this answers your question, let me know if you have more! have a great day!
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I really kinda miss following a lot of book blogs on here bc I'm reading more for the first time in years and I miss talking with people about it and keeping up with new releases.
That said I'm not gonna get involved with book tumblr again because if I see one more YA book I will not be responsible for my actions.
#Its middle grade or adult or bust#I love middle grade fantasy I've never read anything else that catches the whimsy and magic of fantasy better#And I've been reading more Proper Adult Literature(TM) bc I need more intellectual stimulation#But YA is just the worst of both worlds. Not intellectually stimulating bc its written for a younger audience than me#And not fun and charming bc teenagers have realized the world kinda sucks and YA reflects that#Plus there's romance now [audience boos]#Nothing against YA but I barely tolerated it when I was in the age range for it and now that I'm not I just Cannot stomach it#Im sure theres parts of bookblr or however you spell that that talk about adult books#But ive yet to find them and searching seems like effort so#Also the reason I'm reading again is bc its part of my 'kick my depressions ass' plan#Very pleased with the results so far i must say#My posts#Writing wise
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lhs - runnin’
lee heeseung [a. + f. 4700 words] runnin’
to you
you came up on some new
i know i shouldn’t feel blue
‘cause i was runnin’ out of time for you
synopsis: you met heeseung in your freshman year of college and immediately hit it off. you’ve made it to your third year and when everyone including yourselves thought that you were each other’s endgame, the devastation when you two split was immeasurable. you both know there’s still love between you. this break allows you both to realize new things. can you two find your ways back to each other? will this be the final goodbye?
genre + tropes: angst. fluff. comedy. college!au. establishedrelationship!au. exes!au.
warnings: fem reader. swearing. arguing. nosy friends. cold heeseung and cold reader. drifting relationship. interventions. slight suggestive themes but it’s only mentioned like once. they both pine over each other. mentions of alcohol and binge drinking. maybe not a happy ending. if you choose to see it that way. whoops. appearances of the rest of enha plus txt yeonjun and soobin.
i. the break
“so this is how it’s gonna end? i thought we were doing fine.”
heeseung erupts into an even angrier fit, “are you kidding me? we are not fucking fine. in what world is this fine? tell me!”
you scoff from where you stand cross-armed on the other side of the bedroom. “well, can you really blame me? it’s hard to see if there’s something wrong if we never see each other.”
“exactly my point! we don’t see each other.”
the two of you have been at each other’s throats since heeseung showed up at your apartment. you have no idea how long ago that was or when the argument started. all you remember is coming up to him when he arrived, wanting to actually spend some time with him. instead he shrugged you off and ignored you, blaming the fatigue. the rest has been a blur. one of you made an offhand comment and now here you are: frustrated and in another fight.
a quick recap: you two met at a mutual friend’s party. you thought that each other was attractive and he ended up asking you out. from there you kept going out, fell in love, dated, and everyone thought you were perfect together. three years later and it’s getting tiring. life has been draining trying to balance it all.
“and who’s fault is that?”
annoyed, he snaps back, “oh please, you can not put the blame solely on me.”
“bullshit. i sure can when i’m the only one making an effort here. i’ve actually been trying to save us. you, on the other hand…” you pause again, rolling your eyes, “well, we both know just how much you care.”
his jaw drops, defensively he spits back, “are you genuinely implying that i don’t care about you? about us? that’s rich.”
you move to sit on the edge of the bed, staring at a single spot on the floor. you can see the shadow of heeseing pacing back and forth. you sit there, not looking at each other. the only sounds to be heard are his footsteps and the heavy sighs from you. you think back to the last several weeks. you recall each of the times you have been able to see each other. there’s no substance, nothing memorable. the only thing that comes to mind is that you always end up not talking at all or arguing.
just like right now.
“be real, heesung. when was the last time we went on a date? when was the last time you stayed the night without it ending up with you just knocking out? when was the last time we actually sat down and had a conversation? be honest because i will. i can’t remember.”
“and yet you thought we were fine?”
“well it’s better to believe a good lie than face the hurtful truth. i’m trying to save this relationship. i’m trying all the fucking time and you don’t do shit.”
he spits back frustrated, “well maybe that’s because there’s nothing to be saved.”
“are you kidding me right now? am i supposed to be scared? you tell me that there’s nothing to be saved and expect me to just give up?”
“sorry but i’m not running from this anymore.”
“you’re not sorry and we both know it.” you push yourself back up to stand, resting your hands on your hips, “you can’t say you’re sorry and expect me to forgive you. that’s not how this works.”
“this isn’t what i wanted to happen. this isn’t how it was supposed to go.”
“then make it work.”
“i- i can’t,” he holds his hands over his face, running one through his hair, “it’s too much.”
“so what? what do you mean?”
he finally stops. he takes a deep breath and lets it all out, “i just can’t see this working anymore, at least not like this.”
ii. week one
you thought this would be more difficult. that this would be the hardest pill to swallow. the first week apart may actually be the easiest. nothing has really changed. that’s probably because you haven’t told anyone that you two are no longer together. perhaps the time that you didn’t spend with each other before the break up had trained you for this.
life goes on, with or without heeseung. that’s what you keep telling yourself. you choose to get caught up with your life. you have other priorities. it’s not a crime to focus on yourself for the first time in three years.
heeseung feels the same. he doesn’t see any point on dwelling on the breakup. sure, he was the one who made the decision. he’s the one who put it out there. he’s the one who ended it and the one who is taking responsibility.
lucky for both of you, you don’t have any courses together and your schedules don’t really coincide. there’s no chance at any awkward run-ins. there is this weird, tiny feeling though. there’s this small inkling of something missing. you both suppress it. i mean, hell, the breakup just happened.
iii. scheming
meanwhile, your friends have all seemed to notice that the two of you are off. they aren’t sure what it is. they get that you two have had some time apart, but you’re both adults with lives. you have your own classes, jobs, other friends, and such. no one mentions it because they don’t think it’s their business.
but come on… there’s no way they won’t get to the bottom of it. our resident gossips, sunoo and sunghoon, team up and make it their mission to snoop around. of course, they take precautions to not get caught. the scheming duo find out nothing, to no avail.
now the gang of the scheming duo plus jay, jake, and niki have convened in the common room of jungwon’s dorm building. the 02z are all playing billiards in one corner. sunoo battles jungwon in a game of ping pong. the youngest of the group sits by himself on one of the couches, contemplating if he should speak up. they’ve been in a heated discussion as they try to figure out what exactly has been irking them.
riki, against his own conscience, speaks up to the five. he has this gut feeling and innocently wants to voice his opinion. “what if,” the young boy start out while gauging the faces of the others, “now don’t get mad and just hear me out.” he stops again, taking his time to make eye contact with each of the older boys, waiting until they all nod, “what if… they broke up?”
the group of friends all exchange glances with each other before breaking out into laughter. jay composes himself a bit, still chuckling when he says, “seriously? you think they broke up? heeseung and y/n? yeah, no way.”
sunoo leans onto the ping pong table and eggs him on, “they are literally soulmates.”
jungwon sets his racket down and goes to plop himself next to riki on the couch, “there is no way in hell the two of them split.”
iv. breaking news
“yeah, we split.” plain and simple. three words that crushed the poor hearts of jake and jungwon. he broke the news over brunch. he sensed their curiosity when they deliberately never brought you up.
“good joke there, dude. almost had me for a second.” jake says, awkwardly with a forced laugh.
the youngest of the three chiming in and agreeing, “yeah, that’s really funny.” a silence hits the booth. “you are joking… right?”
the oldest then looks back and forth between the two, tilting his head to one side like a confused pup. he doesn’t see why they think he would joke and simply replies, “nope. you guys haven’t asked so i’m guessing you tried to snoop around and pick up on my cues. i’m also guessing sunoo’s behind this whole operation.”
“ok wait,” jake interjects, “what do you mean you broke up? you can’t just break up.”
jungwon agrees, “he’s right. you two are just playing a prank on us.”
“guys, i’m serious. y/n and i are no longer together.” the two just freeze, jaws dropped, eyes wide. “besides, it’s better this way.”
v. bad timing
meanwhile the remaining four members of their friend group have met up in the campus library in an attempted study session. so far, they’ve just gone back to gossiping and slacking off. the boys all find themselves teetering on the verge of sleep. that is until sunghoon catches you walking in. immediately going to softly pat the others back awake, they all look up confused. trying to stay subtle, hoon jerks his head to the side in your direction.
you make your way to one of the shelves, searching high and low for a book you need for your literature class. sneaking up behind you comes choi yeonjun, the library aid and a friend of yours.
“need any help?”
“no thanks, i’m good jun.” you give him a polite smile.
unbeknownst to both of you, the failure of a study group has creeped to a closer table. they knew that you two were friends but they still can’t help but eavesdrop. “will you two please shut up so we can hear them?” the annoyed face evident on sunghoon’s face at the bickering of sunoo and niki. he turns to see jay, snacking and not paying attention. he rolls his eyes at the group, his gaze then catching yeonjun leading you out of the shelves. quickly shushing the three and nodding his head in your direction again, they finally get the hint.
yeonjun steps in front of you, “so you know my friend soobin, right?”
“soobin… as in choi soobin?”
yeonjun flashes his bright smile, “that’s the one.”
“yeah i know him. we had a stats class together a while back. he definitely taught me a few tricks around a calculator.” you laugh with him, “he’s super sweet, and needless to say cute too.”
“well, am i glad to hear that! long story short, he’s kinda been crushing on you lately and wants to know if you’re free. he mentioned your shared class before but he said he never got your number.”
“since you have mine already, go ahead and give it to him. tell him i’m free whenever he is.”
yeonjun raises his eyebrows at your boldness, “will do. i just wanted to ask you first before i gave it to him because… y’know…”
“no worries, i completely understand.”
he gives a quick goodbye before going back to his desk. storming quickly, four faces appear in front of you, all a combination of confusion, shock, and anger.
sunoo starts, “um… y/n. why are you telling yeonjun to give your number to another guy?”
“yeah, are you cheating on heeseung?” his partner in crime, sunghoon, joins in.
you pause and scan their faces. your face dawns an equally as confused expression. “how can i cheat on someone who isn’t my boyfriend?”
four jaws simultaneously drop. riki’s being the first to close and answer a bit hushed, “i knew it.”
jay turns to him in disbelief, “not the time, niki!”
“did heeseung not tell you guys?” you ask them slowly. “i assumed he would be the one to let you all know.”
“that you two broke up?!” sunoo asks angrily, being shushed by yeonjun from the counter. giving an apologetic smile then tuning back into your conversation, “what do you mean you two broke up?”
“we just… broke up. that’s it. end of story. now if you’ll excuse me, i have to actually study.”
they watch you check out the book you came in for originally and walk out the doors, unsure of what to do next.
vi. the intervention
arranging your monthly movie night was not exactly the easiest task given the tensions surrounding two people in your group. so the only logical solution that they all could think of was to simply not to tell one of you that the other was coming over. a fool-proof plan.
in the dorm of the 02z, you did not expect to see heeseung when you walked in.
he gets up from his spot on the couch, “what the hell is going on here?”
“yeah, an explanation would be nice.” you cross your arms as you glare at the younger boys.
niki, trying to act as mediator gestures for both of you two sit on the loveseat—the same loveseat that was always reserved for the two of you before. “this is an intervention.”
after the confession of their intentions, everyone goes quiet. not a single word is spoken for several minutes, no one knowing how to start. after much internal contemplation, jungwon finally attempts to start. “we brought you two here today because- you know what, i can’t do this.” he stops and cuts himself off, burying his face in his hands.
sunoo sits next to him with his arms crossed. “how dare you two? our parents gets divorced and we don’t even get a notice.” it was common for them to refer to you and heeseung as the parents of the group, being the oldest. although something about sunoo still calling you by that nickname stings, him shaking his head to display his disappointment making you feel guilty.
you see heeseung out of the corner of your eye avoiding looking up to your friends. “look, i don’t see the big deal. we broke up. that happens when relationships don’t work out.”
sunghoon quickly intervenes, “how can you say it isn’t a big deal? you’re letting three years go to waste and that’s all you can say? that’s what happens.” he scoffs at how shameless you come off.
“well, would you rather us stay together even when we were unhappy?” their reactions were a mix of shouts, the words yes, of course not, and duh all blending into each other.
that’s what brought your ex boyfriend out of his daze. “y/n has a point. we broke up and it’s over. we were no longer happy and i don’t see the point in bringing it up again either. it’s in the past. let it go.” he says rather coldly and sternly. him actually saying it and acknowledging it caused that weird feeling to come back. his body language is off, too. your years together has taught you enough about heeseung to know when he’s upset, especially with himself.
jake takes his turn, looking down at his fidgeting hands and muttering sadly, “but you promised each other forever.”
that prompts you and heeseung to glance at each other quickly, making eye contact and it lingering for a couple of seconds. you look away first, not noticing that his stare doesn’t leave you.”some promises just can’t be kept.” your response then making him turn away.
“bullshit.” it’s the first word uttered by jay this entire time. “neither of you are the type to break promises.”
“some things can’t be helped,” heeseung defends.
jay, getting angrier, asks his friend, “did you know that she’s already going on a date? yeah, that guy, soobin. i’m pretty sure you know who he is. your ex,” he makes sure to stress the last word with a certain degree of annoyance, “thinks he’s cute.”
emotionless, heeseung answers back, “good for her, then.”
you were sure that you were over him, that’s why you said yes to the date. but something about him not caring leaves you feeling odd.
jungwon stops your train of thought, “no, you’re supposed to be upset. you’re supposed to get jealous and confess you still want to be with her. you’re supposed to fight for her and be together.”
another quick glance between the two of you, lasting longer than the previous one. no words are said on his end, but you know exactly what he’s trying to say. “he doesn’t have to fight when i’m the one who ended it.” you knew him. you knew he couldn’t admit to the others his decision. after all, he wants to be a good role model even in his darkest times. he couldn’t crush their idea of love and you did what you had to do. you lied for his sake—and maybe even yours.
vii. him
two months have passed since the breakup. there’s tension amongst the friend group, the six not wanting to pick sides between you and heeseung. they’re constantly going back and forth, like they’re walking on eggshells as to not bring up something that only happened with the other.
to get your mind off everything, you’ve found comfort in soobin. well, more accurately you’ve found comfort in between his sheets, or wherever you two decide for it to go down. that’s not to say the dates aren’t great. you’re not official and you both know that. your latest date, however, couldn’t help but feel weird.
the date was going pretty well. don’t get me wrong—soobin is a great guy. he’s sweet, caring, funny, and handsome. you have a lot in common like your taste in drinks and movies. maybe if you had met him first, you would’ve dated him… but you didn’t meet him first. you met heeseung first, and soobin isn’t heeseung.
you found yourself drifting from the conversation now and then, thinking about how heeseung would’ve been at that moment. you think back to his habits, particularly the way he raises his eyebrows whenever he’s excited or talking about something he’s passionate about. you always found it endearing. over the course of dinner, you are able to notice that soobin has some cute habits too, like him covering his face when he gets shy or puffing out his cheeks. but it still isn’t the same.
“you two deserve each other.”
soobin catches your attention again with that comment. “what?”
“you and heeseung. i know that look. don’t try to lie to me.”
“look, heeseung is my past, and i want it to stay that way.”
“do you really want it to stay that way, or are you just afraid of what could happen if you let him back into your present?”
you give him a teasing glare, “don’t get all philosophical with me. i just don’t think he and i can go back to how we were before.”
“what’s so bad about you two changing? obviously if it didn’t work out, you shouldn’t try to be what you were before.”
“can’t i just try with you?”
“as much as i would love for you to give me that chance, i can’t do that to you or to myself. it’s not fair.”
you hesitantly ask him, “but is it worth it?”
“that’s not my decision to make.”
viii. her
now that you’re virtually not in his life, he seems to be looking for you everywhere. actually… rather than going out of his way to look for you, everything just reminds him of you. the jingles of the commercials you always sang along to, your favorite songs on the radio, the reruns of 90’s shows you always binged. hell, even when he was making ramen, he was reminded of how you would make his favorite for him every time he was stressed over an exam. he was sitting in the back of the lecture hall, trying so hard to stay awake for his 3 hour long class with the most boring professor on campus. he fought the urge to text you since it felt like second nature to rely on you to help cheer him up.
there was a particular night when it really hit him. reality smacked him in the face late one evening. heeseung was bored out of his mind, laying alone in bed, aimlessly browsing netflix to find something to watch. he thinks to himself y/n would’ve slammed this laptop closed and talked all night about random and obscure topics. he laughs to himself, reliving the memories. right then, it’s obvious. he misses her.
ix. promises
the rain hitting your bedroom window had no help on your already gloomy mood. what did help was the bottle of soju- well more realistically, four bottles of soju. it was all the liquid courage you needed to call heeseung at three in the morning.
you sat drowsily on the rug of your living room, your phone on speaker and placed in front of you as you stared out the dewy glass. you heard the phone ring seven times, ready to hang up until you heard his groggy voice come out from the other end. “hello? y/n, why are you up?”
you laugh softly and ask him, sounding loopy, “why are you up?”
“because you’re calling me. would you like to give me a reason why, and are you drunk?”
“maybe. anyways, you know… i was thinking. we broke a lot of promises and it hurts. i have to know that we’re not bad people. i have to keep at least one, right?”
heeseung groans but lets you ramble, knowing that you won’t stop until you’ve said it all, “go on…”
“we made a promise that if something was going on, if we were in a dark place, that we would talk to someone. well, if you couldn’t tell by now, i’m not in the best place. the first person i thought to talk to was you.”
“why me?”
“shhh… don’t ask questions. i know you’re tired so just stay on the phone and let me talk. ok?”
he goes quiet for a bit, sighing, “ok.”
“i miss you. i do. i don’t expect you to miss me but i just want to say it,” pausing to hiccup, “soobin helped me realize some things, saying some crap like we deserve each other.” you chuckle as you recall his words, “maybe he said it because bad people deserve bad people. maybe he said it because in our own fucked up lives, we’re the only ones who can understand each other. i did a lot of thinking and i’ve come to the conclusion that we don’t. because if we stay together, we can’t move on. we can’t grow. we can’t become good people, no matter how much we want it. that’s life. sometimes, no matter how much we want something, no matter how much we wish on stars or pray, some things just aren’t meant to be.”
“y/n, get some rest…”
“wait, i’m not done. you already can tell i’ve been drinking and to be honest i have been, for a while. i do it,” starting to choke up and sniffle, “because it helps me forget. even if it’s just for a minute that i can forget what happened, i’ll drink as much as it takes. i’ll grow out of it, eventually. i know i will, but for now… i have to do what i have to do. i’m sure you can relate.” you laugh again, getting more drowsy. you bring your legs up, hugging your knees. faintly, the sounds of heeseung’s snores play from your phone. you smile to yourself, “i wish you were here, singing me a lullaby. i don’t know when you fell asleep but goodnight. take care of yourself.”
cuddled up in his bed, heeseung hears you hang up. he lets you believe he didn’t hear what you said. he knows the reality of it all and the weight that you both are carrying. knowing that you won’t check your phone for the rest of the night, he sends you a quick text: bookstore, saturday, noon. goodnight.
as he turns off his phone to try to fall back asleep, he sees his reflection in the black screen. he sees his puffy, red eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. the end of it all is coming and finally, you two are ready for it.
x. love song
seeing him in person is a good idea. clearing the air, letting it all out, getting closure. all good ideas, you hope. walking into the bookstore was a weird feeling. when you spot him sitting by the window, you quietly make your way over. he looks up at your new presence, his feet shuffling out of nervousness. you notice the glass of pear juice on the small coffee table in front of him, already half empty.
“hi,” he says like a whisper.
“hi,” you awkwardly respond. it’s unlike the two of you to not know how to start a conversation. you make your way onto the cushioned seat, letting yourself get comfortable to help ease the tension. you each avoid the other’s gaze, not knowing how to begin. you sigh and finally ask, “how have you been?”
“busy,” he says as he nods, “finally took up actual music lessons. thought it would be better to have someone who’s played piano and guitar professionally instead of trying to teach myself.”
you softly giggle, “that’s good. you’ve always loved music.”
“yeah… how about you?”
“same, busy. i got the t.a position i applied for like forever ago.”
“congrats! you still looking to become a teacher?”
“well, generally yeah. i was having my doubts before but i just fell back into it. finally being able to be there, present, and guiding others… that’s what i want.” you sit there across from him, watching him and taking it all in. the man in front of you is heeseung, but not the heeseung you knew. no, this is the better version of him. the version of him where he can focus on himself. the version of heeseung that’s glowing and happy and ready to take on the world. “so, look. there’s no easy or delicate way to put it but i think there are things we both need to get off our chests.”
“agreed. since it all happened—the fights, the breakups, the ambush interventions—we haven’t actually talked.”
“those interventions… they were silly but the guys did help me realize some things. we’re growing up. sure, i thought we had this plan of us graduating, getting married, having a family, settling down, growing old. we both wanted that type of life. sadly, it’s not what happened and we have to live with it.”
he lets out a chuckle, “heeseung and y/n: meant for each other and meant to be.”
“but not meant to last. what a bittersweet and poetic ending."
“it’s like people always say: right person, wrong time.”
“you know… you used to tell me that our love song was the soundtrack to the best life you could live.” you reach out and take his hand in yours, “i just,” pausing to take a deep breath and compose yourself, “i just want you to know… that if anything happens-”
he cuts you off with a quiet gasp, whispering your name with a shaky voice, “don’t.”
you shake your head and gently squeeze his hand, “if anything happens… if in the end, we don’t find our way back and it isn’t us, don’t think we ended on a bad note.” you drop your head as you chuckle lightly before continuing, “cause you were always on key.” you give him a small grin, trying your hardest to not make things worse by crying. “we were just playing different tunes.”
he pulls you in closer to him, placing his hands softly on your cheeks. “i always hated seeing you cry,” he says as he wipes away the tears on your face, not bothering about his own. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close for the last time.
you stay there in his warmth, hearing him sniffle as he tries to hold back the falling tears. when you pull away, you tell him “i will always love you. maybe not in the way i thought i would but it’s still there.”
“maybe in our next life, it’ll be the right time.” with that, he leaves a kiss on your forehead, leaves the bookstore, and leaves your life. your duet that worked in perfect harmony now playing a beautiful cadence—two wandering artists, free to fill your own wretched worlds with new melodies, the bliss and tranquility of it all. the hope that maybe one day, you’ll be in each other’s lives again is enough.
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the love languages part i: gifts (f.w.)
pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
summary: fred doesn't like to admit that he gets jealous when it comes to his girlfriend, after a overhearing a conversation where the love of his life is the topic he goes shopping.
warnings: jealously, slight possessiveness, greasy comments from greasy guys, kissing, fred playfully slaps y/n's butt once.
word count: 1.8k
a/n: this is the first instalment of my love language series, i'm hoping to update it over the next four mondays!! i'm starting a taglist for this series and for my future writings in general which you'll find here, i'm so excited to keep writing for this series and i'd love to hear what y'all think of it - my ask is always open and i can't wait to hear your opinions!!
*all photos are from pinterest*
series masterlist // part ii // part iii // part iv
Fred laid back on his bed, his hands clasped behind his head as he watched his girlfriend adjust her uniform in the mirror. Fred had known Y/N for years but she had become a Weasley family staple after she rescued a very stressed Ron in the library who was pouring over a potions essay that Hermoine had refused to help with. It wasn’t until they had convinced Y/N to spend the summer at the Burrow with them this past year that Fred had finally worked up the nerve to express his feelings for her, and now here she was flashing him that sunshine smile in his dorm room, his mirror, making her way over to kiss his lips.
“You’re staring Freddie.” She giggled, as she plopped down in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Can’t help it angel.” He replied, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. “You’re just too good to be all mine.”
“Well-” she started “I can assure you that I am, my love.” He chuckled as he placed another kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling of his lips on hers for a little longer than she probably should have. In all honesty, Y/N had been crushing on Fred for years, long before he had even known who she was. She had simply intended on observing him from afar, sneaking in quiet chuckles at the jokes he and George cracked in class, stealing quick glances at him across the Great Hall as he teased his siblings. But when she developed quite the unlikely friendship with his younger brother and they had invited her to their family home, Fred started to see her in a different light. Y/N had been at the Burrow for over a month when Fred finally realized that maybe the reason he always wanted to be close to her and that he laughed the hardest at her jokes wasn’t just because he wanted to be her friend, he wanted to be her boyfriend, he was in love with her.
She was everything he had ever wanted, the perfect girl for him, but her being perfect made her quite the center of attention. Fred would never admit that he was jealous but the stares she attracted as the pair walked down the hallways always got to him. However, she never noticed the way other people looked at her, probably because she was too busy staring at him, too focused on the feeling of his hand in hers.
“Freddie.” She whined, wriggling in his grasp. “I’ve got to get to the library and you’ve got practice.” She giggled as he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.
“The library isn’t going anywhere and they won’t mind if I’m late.” He mumbled which earned a playful scoff from her.
“I have a feeling that your lateness will not be excused.” She replied as he groaned into her skin.
“Fine.” He spoke before placing a playful smack to her butt, signalling for her to move off of him so he could reluctantly get ready for quidditch practice.
“Don’t worry Freddie, I'll find you once you're done.” She cooed, placing a kiss to his lips before making her way out of his room and down the hall, leaving him breathless, once again.
Fred quickly got dressed and started the trek towards the pitch, his head flooded with the thoughts of Y/N, a smile seemed permanently etched on his face. Until he overheard voices from around the corner; there stood two Ravenclaw boys leaning against the wall, and the topic of discussion happened to be his girlfriend. Fred gritted his teeth at the sound of her name coming from such mouths, his jaw becoming tight as he felt his hands ball themselves into fists.
“No, I’m telling you, she knows how to fill a uniform.” One of them groaned as the other laughed in agreement. The thought of someone staring at her, making such comments about his girlfriend made him angry, but the fact that they were looking at her like that, like she was nothing more than a body, infuriated him. She was so much more than that, sure she was gorgeous but she also helped his younger siblings with their homework when they couldn’t figure something out, she baked bread with his mother on Sunday mornings and always reassured him when he felt like the entire world was against him.
“You’re right.” The other remarked. “Don’t know what she sees in Weasley. Merlin, she could do so much better.” He added, running a hand through his hair. Fred couldn’t listen any longer, couldn’t handle the garbage he was hearing.
“And I assume you think you’re better eh?” Fred spoke as he sulked his way out of the shadows, causing the two boys to jump at the sound of his voice. “Quiet now, are we?” He chuckled.
“It’s only the truth Weasley, she’ll leave you at the sight of someone better.” The braver of the two spoke. “You’ll be tossed out soon enough.” Fred could feel the anger bubbling inside of him, but he knew that Y/N would despise the thought of him fighting, especially over her.
“We’ll see about that.” He breathed, feigning a lack of bother, the two boys stared at him, shocked at his response as he simply walked past them.
The week had melted itself into the weekend and the thought of his conversation in the hallway still plagued him, he knew Y/N wasn’t like that, she wouldn’t simply drop him if someone better came along. He knew that she loved him, knew that she barely even noticed those who were interested in her no matter how persistent their efforts in pursuing her were. But he needed something, something to prove that she was his, something that could show that she was proud to be his. After seething over this for the past week, thinking about constantly pulling his jumper over her head or maybe just never letting go of her hand in an attempt to keep greasy eyes off of her, it finally hit him and after a sneaky visit to a jewelry store he had a solution.
“Hey princess.” He spoke, excitement evident in his tone as he took his spot next to Y/N in front of the tree she was leaning against.
“Hi, my love.” She replied, abandoning the book she was reading to lay her head in his lap. He sighed with content, running his fingers through her hair as she gazed up at him, nothing but pure love gracing her features.
“I got you something.” Fred said softly as he ran a thumb across her cheek, she looked up at him, taking the hand that wasn’t occupied on her face into her own, interlacing their fingers.
“Freddie-” She started, but he stopped her, pressing a finger to her lips.
“No, no, no.” He protested. “I know you always say you don’t need gifts but this one means a lot to me.” She stared at him curiously as he continued to speak.
“I overheard these guys talking about you and I tried to not let it get to me but I- I couldn’t.” He spoke, her face softening. “I know you love me and I love you more than anything, I just wanted to get you something that could show everyone that, that could show you that.” He ran his fingers through his crimson hair and let out a shaky breath as she brought his hand to her mouth, gently kissing each knuckle. He was so nervous, he had planned exactly how to go about this in his head, but here in this situation, with her staring up at him with those eyes, all previous thoughts of smooth words and flirting were abandoned. He wanted nothing more than to spill his guts to her, tell her every single reason why he loved her, kiss every inch of her body.
“I always say I don’t get jealous when it comes to you, but I do, I hate it when other people look at you the same way I do.” Her lips quirked into a smile. “You’re the love of my life Y/N, there is absolutely no one out there better for me than you, I’m all in.”
“I couldn't agree more Freddie, all my bets are on you.” Y/N said, rising from her spot in his lap to straddle him. She placed her palms against either side of his face, resting her forehead against his closing her eyes and feeling the heat of his cheeks against her hands. Fred reached into his jacket pocket to reveal a small velvet box, Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the sight. He chuckled, sensing her surprise.
“It’s not an engagement ring angel.” He started, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “At least not yet.” He opened the box, where a simple silver necklace sat, four letters sat in the middle, his name in plain script. Y/N gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as Fred pulled the necklace out of the box and loosened the clasp.
“May I?” He asked, a grin etching itself on his face.
“Of course.” She whispered as he placed the chain around her neck.
“There.” He spoke, leaning back to admire her, she looked so pretty with his name lying against her skin. “What do you think?” He asked, his voice quiet as he searched her face for some sort of indication into how she felt about the gift. She stayed quiet for a moment, simply staring down at the necklace, she ran a finger across the letters as Fred bit his lip, nervous at her sudden silence.
“I love it Freddie.” She whispered, pulling his face to hers capturing his lips with her own before kissing his forehead, both his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his lips again and again. He broke into a full fledged laugh until he noticed the tears in Y/N’s eyes.
“Oh no princess, don’t cry.” He chuckled, wiping away stray tears.
“They’re happy tears Freddie.” She giggled. “Just love you so much.”
“I bet I love you more though.” He retorted, resting his hands on her waist as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I’ll have to buy you more gifts if you keep kissing me like that.”
Y/N sighed in response, her fingers twirled in the hair at the nape of his neck. They both knew that Fred could never buy her another gift for as long as they both lived and she would still love him as much as she did in this very moment. There was so much uncertainty in the future but right now, with his name around her neck and his arms wrapped so tightly around her waist she knew that no matter what happened in the next month, the next year and for the rest of her life, her love would be completely and utterly Fred Weasleys.
taglist (join here!!)
@onlyfreds
#fred#fred weasley#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley fic#fred weasley one shot#fred weasley series#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley x you#fred weasley fluff#hp fic#hp
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fic rec masterlist
canon divergent/finale fix its
Anamnesis
THIS! FIC! this fic lives in my head rent FREE it is so good and it makes so much sense in the narrative that the shitty finale concocted, as to why they wouldn't mention cas or anyone else and its just. so good and they write chuck in the most villainous way that i love!!!
"Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be. Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19."
Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven by @adhdeancas
GOD FUCKING CHRIST this is so good and sweet and im such a sucker for team ups and reunions!!! its 3:30 am rn and i just finished it and i love it SO much it made me laugh a lot and the last few chapters i had the stupidest grin just plastered to my face
The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by @rocksalts
repressed bastard dean submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known and receives the rewards of being loved but only after some miscommunication i LOVE this i read it last night and it’s a fast favorite. my interests have overlapped and i am INTO it
“When Dean sits down to watch some bullcrap Discovery Channel episode with Cas, he doesn’t expect to actually learn anything. Except, with Cas explaining, he makes an effort to connect the dots.”
Don't We All Deserve To Be Happy?
VERY sweet and a VERY good pick me up. all around feel good fic!!!
"Post-canon fix-it, divergent from 15x19 where Jack stays and Dean doesn't die and Cas comes back and everyone is happy. Take a shot every time I'm salty about the finale."
Keep Your Love Alive
okay. okay okay okay this may be my favorite finale fix it just because of how well reasoned it is. like this feels what should have happened i love it SO much
"Dean gets to spend eternity sharing beers with Bobby on the Roadhouse porch and riding around in his Baby with Sam. He’s at peace… or he feels like he should be. But a few things nag at him: Where is Cas, and everybody else Dean had been hoping to see in Heaven? Why does he feel like he’s stuck in a loop, reliving the same memories over and over again? And who are the strangers wearing Sam’s and Bobby’s faces?"
The GoldenRod Revisions by @aethylas
this is one of the most well written things ive ever read. the script format DID make it feel more real and honestly? this is better writing than this show deserves. the finale that could have been ♥️
“A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.“
Ascend by @wanderingcas
THEE finale fix it fic!!! written by the AMAZINGLY skilled and talented @wanderingcas !!! it’s 50k of angst and hurt/comfort and pure bliss
“Something in the world is wrong.
Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.
But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.
Or can it?”
Things Happen (They Do, And They Do, And They Do) by THEE @sobsicles
i KNOW everyone has already recommended this and likely you’ve all already read it. but it has to go here bc REPRESSIOOOOOOOOON i LOVE this so much it is one of the most perfect things i’ve read. are you bisexual? did you have a kind of weird relationship with your best friend and not realize that how you felt about them wasn’t necessarily how other people felt about them and you were maybe a little bit in love with them but were too repressed to realize it? you’ll feel seen. maybe a little too seen
Closer (isn't close enough)
are you a sweet and sappy yet horny bastard? do you like cas exploding light bulbs? you will like this.
“the one where they finally talk about what cas said before the empty took him”
You and Your Husband
it is exTRMELY sweet!!! repression dean strikes again <3
"Five times Dean corrects someone about his relationship with Cas, and one time he realizes he doesn't need to."
Tall Grass
miscommunication and a slowburn! despite being written in 2017 and finished in 2018, it feels like a fix it. ft. plant obsessed cas <3
Invictus
a LOVELY and short (relatively) finale fix it
“They saved the world. They're free. It's done.
Except it's not, and carrying on is the last thing any of them are thinking about.
They still have someone they need to save.”
Unchained Link
post finale- it’s a great case fic and i am compelled i want more!!!
"It's after the end of things. Life continues on while Dean is "livin it up" in heaven. But it's never that simple, is it? A freak occurrence sends Dean into another time stranded back on Earth. And he thought his hunting days were over. But, no worries. His knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Hijinks, therefore, ensue."
fun and time unspecified
Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Love Potion No. 5
very funny and sweet! miscommunication at its finest ♥️
"Cas gets drenched with a mystery potion from the ‘love spell’ shelf and... Dean has a sneaking suspicion, angel or no— the spell may have taken effect. And Cas might be in love with Sam."
The Way We Were
Y'all. It is so good its a great mix of funny and serious- extremely fun to see dean as like a base bisexual
"Dean and Castiel pose as a couple to gain access to a gated community known as 'The Glen', a pleasant if secretive location that the boys believe might be linked to several dead bodies showing up over the years bearing signs of ritualistic sacrifice. All seems well until Dean's memory is affected from an incident during a solo exploration, leaving Dean convinced that their cover story is true. Castiel is left trying to resolve their case without taking advantage of an increasingly enthusiastic Dean"
While You Were Sleeping
this is basically just the movie but replacing sandra bullock with cas. this is my comfort movie and imo, one of the most perfect rom coms. the fic isn’t finished but i still have the tab open on my phone and i will straight up go back and re read it when i need a pick me up.
aus/rewrites
The Harvelle Gospels: Offscript
i know everyone ever ( @jewishcharliebradbury ) has recommended this fic. and for good reason go fucking read it
“The Apocalypse is averted, the angels are in Heaven, and Jo is free from the threat of possession. Somehow it couldn't be farther from a happy ending.“
absolute riots
An Ineffably Profound Bond
i honestly would have put this in the finale fix it section! look. i know. i know you've been burned by crossover fics before. but this is Thee good omens/spn fic you want. its funny as hell and immensely satisfying. im weak for everyone working together tropes and that is this
"After Chuck sets 'The End' in motion, the remaining members of TFW make a miraculous escape. Not willing to waste any time, Castiel comes up with a plan to travel to one of the other worlds to try and get help from the angels there, but after a fight with Dean, it's the hunter who gets sent into an alternate universe,with seemingly no hope of return.
When a mysterious human with a heavenly weapon shows up in Aziraphale's shop, he and Crowley learn that their world is not the only one. Now it is up to them to decide whether or not they want to join forces with the human and help him save his world or simply find a way to send him home."
Somebody Up There Likes Me by @lafilleredige
cas is hit with a spell that turns his vessel into a woman, hijinks and sexuality crises ensue etc etc sam is a supportive and bitchy little brother and its all SO fucking funny and also. horny as hell i love it i love it i LOVE it
“’Dean doesn’t want to talk about your breasts, it’s making him uncomfortable because he hasn’t acknowledged the complex fluidity of human sexuality.’“
Stray Cat Strut
a long crack fic that IS one of the funniest things i’ve ever read and i can’t explain why. it’s so ooc but its so funny that i don’t care. if you need a laugh you gotta read this
"Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.
Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!"
canon compliant or slight canon divergence
Give
by @doublestuffedimpala post season 7 episode 7, kind of ambiguous ending but truly a cas is happy to bleed for the winchesters fic
Punch Like Bones
short, post 5x04 homoerotic moment that i wish we’d gotten
#lmao please interact with this i spent so much time on it#i had to go onto desktop for this#ill keep adding on to it#my fic recs#fic rec#spn fic rec#deancas fic recs#charlie.txt
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thank you @chiptrillino for tagging me in a wip game!
not quite sure what the rules are but based off of your AMAZING POST OF ART WIPS (check it out here yall chip is so talented) ive decided to just share some parts of my writing wips that i rlly like because i cannot draw whatsoever lmao
enjoy some lil snippets hehe
from heart don't stand a chance:
"Zuko couldn’t get over her eyes. She was looking past the camera towards the man who took it. Zuko could see clear as day the love she held for Sokka in her gaze.
It was a perfect moment that Sokka had captured. No wonder held it with him at all times. If someone had looked at Zuko like that, he’d never want to see anything again.
As he took in the photograph, Sokka sat next to him in silence. His hand was clutching the ring around his neck again in his fist, pressing it close to his mouth as he peered over Zuko’s shoulder to look. Zuko turned to him to compliment the picture and saw a sad fondness lingering in his eyes."
this is a scene i wrote a while ago thats gonna appear in a much later chapter. but yeah. more yue angst for you guys im so sorry.
from i love you (and that's all i really know):
"Mister Sokka," a little voice wishpered in his ear as he felt tiny pokes on his cheek, "Wake up Mister Sokka."
"Good morning to you too Izumi," Sokka responded wearily as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked towards the little girl who was standing on her tippy toes to see over the edge of the bed and poke his face until he rose.
She smiled at him once she realized he was awake.
"Can we have pancakes?" She asked shyly, hiding her mouth just below the edge of the bed as she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.
That look was going to be dangerous for him later on, he could aready tell.
"Sure thing, Izumi, just let me sleep for five more minutes, mkay?" He asked as he shut his eyes again. He was exhausted from last nights events, and the sun had barely risen. How did Zuko do this?"
this is a scene from the next chapter of this fic. so much sokka and izumi bonding you guys are gonna explode hehehe.
from cherry (the mailee fic i wont shut up about that is now a whopping 19 pages):
"Mai never had to guess with Ty Lee. She always knew when Ty Lee was happy about something because she would use an obnoxious amount of exclamation points. She would send gifs of people or cartoons making outlandish expressions whenever she wanted to react to Mai’s text with a specific facial expression. Sometimes Ty Lee would even send voice memos whenever her thoughts became too long, or she got too excited about a story that her fingers couldn’t type as fast as she could speak."
hehe i love mailee.
from yours (the mailee sorority fic that i promise i did not forget about):
"Mai lifted her head off the pillow again and met Zuko’s eyes. She studied his impassive expression, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. He did seem like he missed Mai and Azula, so maybe he did really just want to catch up with them.
But Mai wasn’t going to give up a golden opportunity like this.
“Tell us everything about the boy toy as well and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Mai said.
Zuko rolled his eyes and sighed, “Ugh, fine. And his name is Sokka by the way.”
“Nuance. You also have to wake up Azula.”
“No chance in hell,” Zuko scoffed, “You’re the roommate and her fellow ‘pong princess,’ wake-up duty is all yours.”
“If she murders me, it’s your fault. She’s a bitch when she’s hungover.”
“Whatever you say, Mai,” Zuko grinned before returning back to his phone."
i have decided that zuko is a little shit for this fic and no one can stop me.
from Where'd All the Time Go? (the yuekka fic that i have severe writers block with that i also promis i have not forgotten about):
"“Sokka I really think you need to take a moment and-”
“I am fine Aang, I don’t have time for a feelings talk right now. Right now I need to find the fucking chief of this damn place.” His words came out harsher than he meant, but he didn’t have the time to dwell on that.
Before Sokka could run off again to continue his search, a hand grabbed his arm. One of Arnook’s advisors, Malina, had started dragging him towards the podium.
“Do you not realize how late you are for this Sokka? The ceremony was supposed to begin with your speech nearly an hour ago-” she hissed at him as she pulled him along through the crowd.
“Malina I’m sorry but I really need to speak with Arnook it is urgent-”
“This damn speech of yours is what’s urgent right now Sokka, you can speak with Arnook later but the guests are getting antsy so you need to give your speech right. Now.”
“But-”
“Now.”
Maline shoved Sokka towards the podium and suddenly all eyes were on him. Every guest in attendance had their focus solely on Sokka."
homeboy is stressed in this scene. things are slowly going to shit in this chapter. i promise i will update this before the end of the year. i swear. im so sorry.
from a currently untitled jetko/sukka boiling rock fic:
"“Oh good, you survived after all,” She said in a mocking tone.
Jet didn’t answer. He knew anything he said would be used against him. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what was happening. But he would be damned if he showed that weakness in front of the fire nation.
“I was told you were more talkative than this,” the girl mused. There was something familiar about her, “my informants were very detailed when discussing your little teashop romance.”
I knew it. Jet snarled in his mind, That bastard betrayed me."
i want this fic to be a little darker but idk how good i am at writing darker fics because i love fluff and humor too much. this could be good angst practice for me.
from a toph and sokka fic that i wrote a while back to help me cope w some shit that i dont know if ill ever post:
"“Sokka? Are you still there?” Toph asked, the slightest hint of concern began to slip into their voice
“Tell me a story,” he was trembling. Despite all of his efforts to sound calm, he knew his voice came out trembling and scratchy and pathetic-
“Is everything okay? You don’t sound too hot,” Toph said through the phone.
Breathe, Sokka, breathe. You don’t want them to be worried, you just need to calm down.
“Please, Toph, I just,” he said through shaky breaths that weren’t nearly deep enough for him to be getting enough oxygen, “I just need a distraction. I just need to hear your voice okay?”"
nonbinary toph anyone?
from a 10 things i hate about you kataang and zukka au:
"“What? Something on my face?” the guy asked deadpanned. He rubbed at his scar as if he were wiping off a smudge of mustard, and Aang’s face went pale.
“Stop scaring the sophomores Zuko, this one’s new. He won’t get your… humor… just yet,” Ms. Wu said as she waved Aang off again.
“I’m hurt that you’d imply I’m not funny, Wu. I’m hilarious,” the senior, Zuko, said as he walked past Aang.
Aang let out a sigh of relief knowing that this Zuko guy didn’t seem all that offended by his awkwardness, and darted out of the room."
zuko is a little shit part 2. the amount of sarcasm i have dripping off of heath ledger zuko is glorious. let zuko be a little shit. i havent added to this in months but when i finish some of my other wips i cant wait to get back to this.
i have more wips and drafts saved but none of them have anything juicy or funny or interesting yet because all of them are like less than three pages so far
but yeah, heres a good chunk of sneaky peakys from my wips!
I hope you liked them!
anyone who wants to do this can totally go for it. imma tag @ambykinns @lumities and @flowers-inthepieshop (only if you all want too!!) because this was fun :)
#liv talks about writing#liv talks ab fanfic#liv wips#liv fics#i love sharing my writing#especially when i have a bit of a block going on with well.... every fic#maybe this will give me inspiration!!!#i love sharing my writing im proud of these little snippets and i hope you all likes them as well :)#atla#avatar: the last airbender
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Those Who Are Kind
1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (you are here) | next
Summary: Siblings are the last thing on Marinette’s mind as she begins her frantic search for Tikki. Really, she can’t even consider them siblings, not yet. But they’re along for the ride, whether she wants them to be or not.
Duke doesn’t know what to make of the current situation.
He’s always known that the Waynes are crazy, insane, even, but he loves them all the same, in the begrudging, cautious way he cannot shake. (This approach has served him well over the years, allowing him to avoid multiple schemes that Tim or Jason typically start up to rile up Damian. From there, everything is guaranteed to snowball. The only time things get really bad is when Cass gets involved.) To him, it’s always been a bit uncanny how similar all the brothers looked, despite the fact that none of them shared blood. All of them had the same sharp jaw, piercing blue eyes, chiselled cheekbones and defined bodies. Only Tim and Damian differed slightly, with Tim having a dancer’s figure instead of that of a body builder or demolitions expert, and Damian having green eyes instead of blue. It’s also disconcerting that everybody the Waynes are more intimately involved with have some sort of alter ego. He often joked with other members of the Justice League that heroism ran in Bruce’s blood.
With the new addition of Marinette to their family, he has to say that he’s been proven right.
A girl who had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes in any capacity other than the fact that she and Bruce share blood becoming a hero. The leader of a team. Fighting supervillains at the age of thirteen.
He’s very, very glad that he was not adopted by or shared blood with Bruce. He doesn’t think he could have handled being a superhero at age thirteen. He can barely handle being Signal now some days, and he’s an adult. The amount of responsibility on Marinette’s shoulders is difficult to understand. To be the sole wielder of magic that can revert an entire city back to its original state. To bring people back from the dead.
Dick is strangely quiet. A car is driving them from a pit stop near a zeta tube to Marinette’s hospital.
Hands down, Dick is the most sane male of the Wayne family, not including Alfred. But there are times when Duke sees the weight that he carries. All the times that he refuses to talk about the burdens that he bears. Moving forward with a smile when he’s in pain. When he gets in a mood like this, he’s hard to read. But given the circumstances, it’s fairly clear exactly what’s bothering him.
“He’s known about her this entire time,” Dick says, tinted windows allowing Duke a glance at his expression, carefully devoid of any telling emotions. “Nineteen years. He kept her a secret.”
“It’s Bruce.” The man is known for keeping secrets.
“Yeah, but Marinette is family. She should have been, at least. And now…”
Now she’s all alone when she should be surrounded by people that love her, praising her for her victory, for how she shouldered so much responsibility at such a young age. But by bringing her to a hospital in America, she’s been cut off from her team, and any support system she should have had is gone.
“You and her,” Duke says, looking for a way to comfort him. “You’ll get along. You’re similar, after all.” After they brought Gabriel and Lila to the a top security prison and sent Emilie to a hospital that couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, they got two files from Tim. One detailing Ladybug and all of her exploits. The second, detailing Marinette’s life.
Duke has watched the videos. Has watched how Ladybug leads by example, comes up with the plan and begins the execution. How she shoulders more battles than she should.
He’s seen Marinette pull people together with a smile on her face, even while she’s running on empty after a strenuous akuma attack.
Dick and Marinette are alike.
“We’re too much alike,” Dick says. “I suspected for a long time that Bruce had another kid that he wasn’t telling us about, but I thought that if he was keeping her away from us, then maybe she’d have a shot at leading a good life. A normal life. Not the one she got. Sabine’s— Bruce’s biological daughter shouldn’t be somebody like me. She deserves better.”
Duke is acutely aware that Dick’s parents were also murdered, but whatever relation he had with Sabine is something he’s never been willing to talk about. There are pictures in his apartment of a petite Asian woman with a soft smile standing next to him, but whenever asked about her, Dick never gives a straight answer.
“Nobody has the ability to change the past.” Duke claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He sags imperceptibly under the weight.
Well— actually, it’s not out of the realm of possibilities, given the fact that magic, aliens, and metahumans all coexisted, supplemented by the fact that multiple members of Marinette’s team do have the ability to travel back in time, but that’s another matter entirely. There’s not a lot of information on the Miraculous, and all of their knowledge is coming from Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Zatara, and even the three of them don’t know everything.
“But you have the chance to do good by her. Be a good older brother, like I know you are.”
A thin smile appears on Dick’s face. “She’s going to need more than just one good influence on her life. And Damian is better, but you saw how he looked at her when Bruce brought her through the Zeta tubes. Tim’s not going to react well either, and Jason is a wild card. She’s not going to get the support she needs if she stays with us.”
Duke crosses his arms, knees brushing up against the back of the car seat. “The only person whose actions you’re responsible for are your own. Don’t worry about them. If they don’t like her, they’ll just avoid her.”
That’s certainly not true— all of the members of the Wayne family are notorious for going hard after all of the things they don’t like. But... it’s comforting to hear. Sometimes temporary and known lies are much nicer than harsh realities.
#
She’s gone.
All of her belongings are missing, the IV needle is hanging from the stand, the window open, and Marinette is missing from her bed.
At least she left a note?
Be back soon — Marinette
“Great,” Duke mutters under his breath. “Another incredibly vague, cryptic Wayne.”
Dick’s face turns to ash. “Her legs. Her head. She can’t go out so soon. Hold on, maybe Barbara can pull up some footage.”
“On the bright side, there’s no blood,” Duke says.
“That’s not a bright side.”
“It is,” Duke argues. “She fell in the worst places possible, right on top of that broken glass casket. If she’s not bleeding that clearly means she didn’t pull her stitches on her mad escape out.”
When Ladybug fell, they’re not exactly sure what happened, because the screen showed Ladybug collapsing almost gracefully. When they arrived on the scene, she flickered between Ladybug and Marinette as her earrings beeped. Her legs were slashed from falling on the glass with a seemingly unnatural force— simply falling would not have garnered cuts that large— and her head was twisted at an odd angle, debris bloodied beneath her.
Somehow, the Miraculous Cure seemed to be working backwards. Not from the epicenter out, but rather from the edge of the damage, in. It worked slowly, every mile taking minutes instead of mere seconds. It hadn’t happened before in any of the battles.
It was useful in apprehending Hawkmoth and Pavona, who were still knocked out. But Marinette, even after the Miraculous Cure washed over her, didn’t get healed. Her injuries didn’t revert. There was still a gash on her stomach from Hawkmoth’s cane, still muscles exposed on the back of her legs and blood on her neck. When she was first brought in, the doctors feared that she may be permanently incapacitated.
Good at keeping to her word at least. She came swinging through the window with worry on her face and grief in her eyes.
“I need to go back to Paris,” she says.
Dick will undoubtedly say no. He’s a very protective person, and Marinette is the center of his current efforts.
But she doesn’t look injured. He eyes her stance. She’s standing with no effort, walks with no limp. No hospital dress, no blood on her neck, no bruises in all of the places he was expecting them to be. Marinette does not look like she just faced a world ending threat less than twenty four hours ago. She certainly doesn’t look like she’s permanently lost the use of her legs. There’s the familiar Wayne Brand Stubbornness in her eyes— no way she’s not Bruce’s kid— that tells him that she’s going to get to Paris one way or another, and that they’re either lucky they were even notified in the first place or that she wants to use a resource that they have that she does not have access to. It’s fairly obvious what that resource is, considering that Paris is nine hours away by any normal plane and it sounds like she wants to get there in minutes, and not hours. Duke also knows that if they don’t take what she’s offering now, she’ll use an alternative method that definitely won’t be as nice or clear cut.
He jumps in before Dick can say anything. “We’ll take you as long as we go with you every step of the way.”
Oh, he’s going to get in so much trouble for doing this. Dick is looking at him with his Disapproving Dad glare, and he can imagine Bruce going into brooding silence when he hears that Duke allowed this to happen.
Marinette’s lips pinch together, but she nods. “Where’s the nearest zeta tube?”
#
Barbara gets Dick’s text and sighs in frustration.
She’s already got her hands full with watching Tim, who’s spiralling trying to find information about the Miraculous, muttering under his breath in the way he does when he gets a particularly hard case to crack. He’s gone through six cups of coffee in the last hour, and he kicked off his research with a combination of 5 Hour Energy, Monster, three packets of sugar, and 10 caffeine shots. Soon, she’ll have to start limiting his caffeine intake, but right now it’s clear that any attempt to get him to stop his research now will fail spectacularly. At least she’s not in charge of Damian and Jason. Wherever they are, they’re definitely on the move and not happy.
She never thought she'd be able to say she’s happy about being paralyzed from the waist down, but she certainly doesn’t want to be chasing after one of the two hellions. Cass definitely has her hands full and whoever’s watching Jason— wait, is anybody even watching Jason? Typically Roy gets stuck with Jason-sitting duty, but he’s been out for a while.
Barbara groans. Jason is probably on his own, wreaking havoc.
Great.
She’ll deal with that later, even though she has no doubt she’ll regret that decision, but if Marinette is gone from her room, Dick needs the footage, and somebody needs to find where she is. The nurse put in her latest report that her legs were almost healed and that she didn’t show any signs of a concussion, but Marinette was in bad shape when she got admitted to the hospital. Even though Barbara doubts that there was any misdiagnosis, given that Bruce sprung for a VIP room in one of the pricier hospitals, in a world where magic and aliens are present, who knows what’s true or not.
“Tibet!” Tim jumps up from his hunched over position for the first time in hours. “I’m going to Tibet, the closest zeta tubes are three hours by car away, but I can get somebody to loan Wayne Industries a helicopter while I’m over there.”
“Sit down, Tim.” Barbara takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose. Why can’t Bruce rein in his children? Why is she the one stuck babysitting? “Marinette left her hospital room.”
That certainly gets Tim to put the brakes on his movements towards the zeta tube in the bat cave.
“What?”
“I said, she left her hospital room. Just sit down while I send the information over. It’s not going to do you any good to rush into things anyways.”
A quick review of the surrounding CCTV shows that Marinette didn’t travel far, just around the hospital. She’s looking for something, calling out for it, too. Barbara grabs that file and slows it down so she can read her lips. “Dickie? Do she and Dick know each other already?”
A quick text back to Dick reveals that Marinette has already returned to the room and—
Oh, hell.
“Well,” Barbara pushes her laptop away from her, letting Tim watch the files she’s pulled up. “It looks like we’re taking a family trip to Paris.”
#
Somehow, Marinette almost manages to lose all four of them within the first four minutes of roaming around Paris.
Luckily, their family has an almost absurd amount of luck between all of them (not all of it good) and the person Barbara was half sure she could only find in prison, beating up Hawkmoth and Pavona, runs into Marinette on the streets and herds her back to them.
“Lose something?” Jason asks, arm slung around Marinette’s shoulder, the smaller, younger girl looking rather upset at having her plans thrown off.
“I told them that they could follow me,” Marinette argues without much real bite. It’s not my fault if they can’t keep up, is the clear meaning of her statement.
Again, Barbara is very impressed that the barely nineteen year old somehow managed to shake off vigilantes with decades of experience with ease. But it is, at least, partially due to her disability. Every time she goes out in her wheelchair, her heart aches a little, especially as the civilians she passes eye her with pity. Barbara doesn’t want pity. Doesn’t need pity. She shouldn’t feel anything when people look at her like she can’t keep up, because she can keep up.
Most of the time, anyways.
It doesn’t matter how she uses her tech skills to modify her wheelchair and deck it out with all the equipment she could ever need, or that she can easily get up to speeds rivalling sports cars for short periods of time before the power runs out. When she’s stuck in her wheelchair, she loses the maneuverability she had when she wasn’t paralyzed.
She couldn’t follow Marinette through the alleyways because she was stuck. Barbara was the one who noticed her escape first. If only she were more capable, she could have—
But it’s okay now. Jason ran into her. Marinette is back with them.
“I need to search for something, and none of you can help.” She’s not intentionally being rude when she says it, and if anything, sounds apologetic. Barbara sees the similarities between Marinette and Bruce. It makes a lot of sense that the two of them are father and daughter, when the two of them are so insistent on keeping major issues to themselves. Marinette twists herself out from underneath Jason’s arm, clutching her purse. Her head doesn’t move, but her eyes are wild.
“We can help,” soothes Duke, ever the voice of reason. “You know who we are.”
“And I’m guessing you’ve all either deduced who I am or have been told my identity,” counters Marinette. “Which means you should know why I can’t have you helping me.”
Barbara and Duke exchange pointed glances.
“That’s not really clear to us, actually,” says Barbara. Marinette isn’t moving, but the way her shoulders tense makes her believe that the younger girl is ready to run at the drop of a hat.
A small group of people from the parade on the streets tumbles into the alleyway they’re resting in. They smell like cheap booze and sweat.
“What are all of you doing in this alley?” one says, after he finished vomiting up his last (very colorful) meal. “You should be out there partying with the rest of us! Celebrating Ladybug and her team.”
“Fuck Hawkmoth and Pavona,” says another solemnly, with neon face paint and pigtails with glitter string intertwined. “Their defeat should be celebrated by even the darkest souls.”
Jason, easily amused by their antics, looks very willing to join them. “Yeah Marinette, we should be celebrating Ladybug not—”
As one, everybody looks at the place where Marinette was, just moments ago. The alley is decidedly empty of a small asian girl with blue eyes and pigtails.
“Fuck,” Jason curses.
“Fuck is right,” Duke agrees, placing a hand over his temple.
#
Marinette manages to disappear for three hours.
Three full hours.
“She’s good,” Tim says, typing into the holographic computer embedded into his sleeve.
Paris’ CCTVs are painfully easy to hack into, though he suspects that the lack of attention to them may have to do with the fact that everybody in the city is celebrating. Policemen, politicians, artists, students, scientists— people from all walks of life are in the streets today, screaming and shouting and being free for the first time in years.
He spies more than just a few dozen people bawling their eyes out within a few minutes. But that’s not surprising, considering how long Parisians have had to suppress their emotions for.
Dick and Barbara are still in the midst of profiling Marinette, trying to determine the most likely places where she’d stop by, either as Ladybug or herself. All of Ladybug’s usual haunts are decidedly devoid of the young heroine, though Tim does manage to catch a good amount of footage of the other young heroes like Carapace and Rena Rouge, who are most definitely in a relationship based on their makeout session on top of the eiffel tower (one of the first places Tim checked), Viperion, who seems to be the only one from Ladybug’s team to be seeking out the crowd which seems rather atypical considering that the hero never frequented interviews or was spotted on news coverage all that frequently, and Chat Noir and Queen Bee who Jason insisted were in a relationship as well, though the rest of them believed they were only embracing each other out of comfort— Chat Noir looks like he’s been crying for hours, and Queen Bee looks like she’s barely holding it together.
Ryuko has not shown up on camera once today. Neither has Ladybug.
The second place Tim checks is the bakery. She is not there either, though another girl is. It doesn’t seem like the girl has any ill intent, but Duke is more than happy to pull up past files to see if she’s been there before, if she has any reason to be there, and who exactly she is.
Just as Barbara and Dick are debating the chances that Marinette would be at Le Grande Paris, she walks past one of the cameras focused on Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie. Tim has the system rigged up so that any facial matches for Marinette automatically alerts the room. He hadn’t been able to replicate that with Ladybug’s face for some bizarre reason which is why he, Barbara, Dick, and Jason are manually combing through the areas where Dick and Barbar think she may be (magic is why, but Tim has always believed that technology can be used against and with most forms of magic) so it’s lucky that she enters as Marinette.
“Kagami Tsurugi,” Duke says triumphantly. “She visited often when Tom and Sabine were still alive. Potential candidate to represent France or Japan for Sabre in the next Olympics. Definitely friends with Marinette.”
“Thank God,” sighs Dick. “Now let’s get over there.”
It’s truly, truly unfortunate that they set up shop quite a distance away from the bakery.
They take too long to arrive.
#
Perhaps it was a mistake, telling Kagami first.
No, not just perhaps. It was a mistake. A bad one.
But Kagami was pushing so hard, and Marinette was so tired and so alone without Tikki at her side, without the knowledge that her parents would be waiting for her. Kagami pushed and pushed and pushed about why the house felt so empty, why there was dust on the floor, why the bakery was closed for so long, and where were Tom and Sabine? Why weren’t they there for the team yesterday, when the battle was won, when they knew how important it was to be there for Adrien who had just lost all three of his parental figures?
The moment the words fall from Marinette's lips, she knows she shouldn’t have revealed it at that moment, because Kagami draws in on herself, lips turning downwards, hands curling into fists.
Kagami has come a long way from the girl she was in lycèe. The thrill of victory is still something she enjoys, but not something she needs to feel secure in her place in the world. She has trouble expressing her emotions, but when it comes down to it, she communicates everything necessary to understand why.
With the news of Tom and Sabine’s death, she withdraws into herself, shifts back into that thirteen year old Marinette first met. Logic and rationale thrown to the wind in favor of cold anger.
It’s no secret that Ryuko, Ladybug, and Viperion are the main strategists of their team. Viperion, out of his duty of using Second Chance and his ability to keep a level head in the face of constant death. Ladybug out of necessity as her position as team leader and the power of Lucky Charm. Theoretically, the two of them should have been enough. But over the years, Kagami became Marinette's favored confidante; though Ladybug trusts all of her team to keep a tight hold on any information she gives them, Kagami is one of the few who is able to pick apart a given situation and transform the monsters they face into manageable pieces.
Today, it is Kagami who has broken to pieces. Very angry, razor sharp shards that seek to hurt.
“You lie to the media, tell them a pretty tale of how they died due to a break in. Why do you avoid pinning their deaths on Lila as you should? To absolve a quality woman from guilt?”
Marinette can’t look Kagami in the eyes.
Her parents deserved a peaceful death. To pass on in old age, hand in hand. Not looking on as a family member died, in fear of what would happen next for their daughter.
“The police know. The judges know,” Marinette protests weakly, but without much eight behind her words.
Kagami just scoffs. “Tom and Sabine were kind people. To not tell the media what truly happened— that’s preventing Lila from getting the full force of what’s coming to her. What happens if she gets out of prison one day? Without any real deaths to her name, she could just flee to another country to escape it all. And when another person loses their life because of her…”
She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. If somebody else gets injured in any way, shape or form at the hands of Lila Rossi, it’s Marinette’s fault. Marinette gets what Kagami is trying to say. She thinks the same thing, after all.
“My parents would not want their death publicized in that manner.” It’s the truth, but it’s said so weakly that the words come off as little more than a weak defense, and Kagami takes the words and twists their truth.
“You know little of your parents, considering that you’re their daughter.” Kagami stands stock still, not a single extra muscle moving. “Perhaps if you spent more time with them as Marinette instead of unsuccessfully gallivanting around as Ladybug, you’d have realized that Tom and Sabine admire truth above all else, even if it is painful.”
Kagami does not ask a single question about where Marinette was last night, or how Marinette felt over the loss of her parents or when she saw all those she held dear lying still on the ground after Hawkmoth and Pavona’s final attacks. She just purses her lips and sweeps out the door.
And then she’s gone, and Marinette is alone once more.
#
The bakery is bone-achingly quiet.
Every step Marinette takes creates such a disturbance in the peace that moving hurts.
But she can’t stay here. She can’t stay here. She does not deserve to stay here. Kagami is right. Marinette was a bad daughter. She could have prevented their death, could have given them justice sooner, could have—
And Marinette can’t breathe. She tries to, she tries so hard to, but she chokes.
She kneels down on the floor— Kagami is right again, the place is dusty, because Marinette couldn’t bring herself to use the living room and kitchen without her parents, could barely bring herself to sleep in her bedroom because she knew that her parents were not sleeping soundly in the bed below hers— and scrabbles at her throat, vision coming in and out.
Her legs burn. She knows that during the final battle, her legs were cut towards the end of it, and they should be healed, she should be okay now, she’s better than this, she’s—
Somebody gathers her in their arms. They smell slightly of Lotus flowers, just like Maman, and cradle her ever so gently.
Marinette’s eyes open— black hair, greyish eyes filled with understanding and love and—
She can breathe again.
She falls asleep.
#
“Cass?” Dick’s eyes widen at her unexpected appearance at Marinette’s home.
“I thought you were on Damian guard duty,” Barbara says, fixating on the red around Marinette’s eyes and the barely dried tear tracks on her face.
“Where’s that Kagami girl?” Jason scuffs his shoes on the hardware floor, silently marking the footprints on the floor and getting a general idea of what occurred before they were able to get here based on Marinette’s current state and the other girl’s absence. “I want to have some words with her.”
Cass inclines her head sharply, eye sparking with anger. Jason’s fists rise unconsciously— Cass rarely gets angry, and whenever she gets angry at a specific person, that means they’ve done something very, very wrong— ready to hunt down Kagami. Marinette sniffles and shifts in Cass’ one armed embrace, to which Cass places a finger over her lip and shakes her head, a universal sign to be quiet.
Jason scowls but settles down.
They’re quiet as they wait for Marinette to wake.
@biodad-bruce-month
Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety
Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip @theunquiet-dead @sleep-deprived-aroace @enternalempires @lilkymilky @woe-is-me0 @officiallydarkgeek @miyla-lokidottir @queencommonsense @demonicbusiness @iamablinkmarvelarmy
@emark7 (i will have the edited version of these on ao3 eventually but i think the link to ch 1 on this one works)
where i ended this doesn’t feel very good but ehhhhhhhhhh my writing process is summary then word vomit that barely correlates which means nothing makes sense unless i edit but looking back at my work makes me cringe so at a crossroads yayyy
also can you guys tell which prompts ive written these for because i’m curious
#bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020#bio!dad bruce#maribat#marinette dupain cheng#bruce wayne#duke thomas#jason todd#dick grayson#damian wayne#barbara gordon#tim drake#cassandra cain#batfam
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between us - chapter iv
The one where Aaron hurts you, but he knows just how to heal you.
When Hotch comes home one day and takes out his frustrations on you, you’re sent spiraling into a depressive state that you were all too familiarized with. But as your boss and closest friend, he’s the only one who knows how to take care of you during a relapse. His efforts to fix the situation end up awakening a different side of him, a side that might just be precisely what you’ve been missing in a time like that.
for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. PLEASE CHECK THEM.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
In the days that passed, I started to become more and more like myself again. I laughed more frequently, I felt more energetic, and it wasn’t long before Aaron decided I could go back to work.
Seeing Spencer again was nice, but it was undoubtedly weird to try to pretend nothing different was going on between Hotch and I. I mean, I felt like the team had a solid idea of what was happening between us, especially from how firm he was about taking me to his house when I broke down on the jet, but nothing was confirmed yet and I didn’t want it to. It was nice to have something special blossoming and it felt like it was still so intimate and pure, I didn’t want to learn other people’s views about it.
And yet, as I felt myself climb higher and higher from the well I was buried before, I knew it was only a matter of time until I faltered and fell down a few steps. Recovery was something I was used to by now, so relapse was a fact and I was prepared for it. It just didn’t mean that I wasn’t scared or devastated when the itch to hurt myself resurfaced again.
It happened while we were away on my first case since returning to the BAU. I was being aloof and I knew it, but I insisted that I was okay enough to go out on the field. I wanted to prove to myself and everyone else that I could do this.
Boy, was I wrong.
Despite the fact that my distracted manner ended up putting Spencer’s life in danger, everything turned out okay and the unsub was caught. However, as we got stuck in our hotel for the night, since the jet wouldn’t be able to fly us back until the morning, all I could think about was how badly I had screwed up.
And the worst part was that no one shouted or even appeared to be angry at me. They were making sure to keep their true feelings hidden behind a barrier of fake understanding, so I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be, but the absence of an outlet only made it worse.
I could feel the voices rising again. Mocking me. Reminding me of how I couldn’t do anything right. How everyone probably hated me right now. I was spiraling, and quickly. The itch to scratch myself had already appeared and it was only a matter of time until my nails were bloodied.
But then, a knock resonated through the empty bedroom.
“Are you ok?” The sight of Aaron with those impenetrable eyes was enough to start to calm the waves of self-loathing, but I was still on edge. In all truth, I could barely speak, the embarrassment I felt for my own actions today still coursing through me.
“I’m still waiting for you to start screaming at me,” I admitted in a tiny voice, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. A good part of me was hoping for it, so I was prepared for any demonstration of anger that he could throw my way. “I feel like I should be in trouble.”
“That’s never going to happen.” He stepped into the room, hugging me to him as he closed the door behind us. We stayed like that for a while, him tightly holding me to his body as we slowly swayed in the same place. At least it forced my own hands to stay far away from my body.
“I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” It escaped before I could realise I was even thinking about it. Aaron froze in his spot before carefully pulling away from me, his hands holding my head to look deep into my eyes. I felt myself melting despite my current state. He really did have beautiful eyes.
“What do you mean?” Sighing, I pushed him away gently before sitting down on the mattress, running a hand through my face. My mind was all over the place, making it difficult to focus on finding the right words to describe what I was going through at that moment.
“I’m sorry, Aaron.” The tears started rolling then. It all became too much. My failure at work, the fact that I was letting him down, I didn’t know what to do anymore. I felt lost, and soon enough, that asphyxiating weight settled over my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe.
“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Through the gaps between my fingers, I could see that he had knelt in front of me even before he reached for my hands, holding them so I couldn’t use them to hide anymore.
“I hate myself for what I did today, Aaron. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to be in the BAU. God, what if something had happened to Spencer today? I… I have to cut myself, please let me get it out.” I tried to pull my hands from him, my need to scratch myself resurfacing even stronger again, but he held them tightly in his grip, stopping me from doing so.
Aaron’s P.O.V.
As I held onto her hands, I pulled her so she’d look at me again. “Sweetheart, please… Is there anything I could do?” It was so difficult to see the woman I loved like this, reduced to a crying mess, and not being able to help her. My heart physically ached as I held her against my chest, caressing her head in a feeble attempt to calm her down.
“Punish me, Aaron. Yell at me, say you hate me and that I don’t deserve you. Tell me you’re going to kick me out of the team.” Her broken sobs were taking away pieces of my heart little by little.
“I can’t do that, darling. I’m sorry, it wouldn’t be the truth. You don’t deserve to be punished, sweetheart, you made an honest mistake and everyone is entitled to that. I *love you. I could never hate you for something so silly and if anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. And our team needs you, Y/N. We weren’t complete until you arrived.”
Somehow, those didn’t seem like the right words to say. She literally started to tremble in my arms, a scream of agony leaving her lips. “Darling, tell me what I can do to help you, please. I want to help you.” She tried to free her arms to scratch her skin again, but I managed to hold her hands just in time. Suddenly, an idea struck me. An out-of-place reminder of a conversation held in different times, over a bottle of wine. “Alright, you want to be punished, get up.”
My voice hit the same tone it usually did when we were in the bullpen and I needed the team’s attention, so I quickly got hers. She immediately obeyed me, standing up to stare down at me as I remained seated at the edge of her bed. “I want you over my lap, right now.”
If there was any hesitation on my part about what I was doing, it went out of the window the second she threw herself over my legs. I stopped for a second, pondering over what I was about to do. I had never been one for physical punishment on Jack, since I had personal experience on how scarring that experience could be, but I could recognize this was of an entirely different nature. And despite my inexperience with this sort of sexual relationship before, the tightness in my pants warned me that at least a part of me was satisfied with it.
I ran my fingers through Y/N’s hair, appreciating her tiny shiver, a show of desire instead of pain, until I decided it was time to get on with it. Raising my hand in the air, I allowed it to fall over her backside, only strong enough so she could feel it. Y/N’s hands flew to my thigh, holding herself there so she’d be able to take it and I did it again, with more or less the same impact.
“Harder,” came her plea, and I hesitated only for a bit before obeying her request. Her voice hadn’t trembled for the first time in the evening and hearing it resemble her everyday assertiveness didn’t allow me any space to second guess our activities.
My next spank was undoubtedly harder than the last one, and I expected any sort of reaction from my girlfriend, except the broken moan she released after my hand fell over the right cheek of her ass.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
I didn’t have it in me to even feel embarrassed about my instinctive reactions, especially since Aaron was giving me exactly what I needed. I didn’t know how he knew, I couldn’t think in the state I was in, but it had been too long since I had found myself in this type of relationship and I had forgotten how it provided me with exactly what I needed.
“Y-yes!” I couldn’t stop the shout that escaped my throat as he continued to slowly give me harder slaps. Although it was precisely what I had asked for, it still didn’t manage to give me the same effect I would have gotten from feeling it against my skin. That’s what made me suddenly scramble up to look him in the eye again.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” He looked so concerned, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared up at me. I felt myself smiling despite the mess in my mind, just suddenly overcome with gratitude for having such an amazing creature worrying about me.
“Not at all. This is exactly what I need, I don’t know how you knew it.” I held his face between my hands, softly running my thumbs over his cheekbones. “Would you… Would you do something else for me?”
His eyes searched mine quickly before nodding. “Anything.” I had to smile at his devoted tone, so I leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead before straightening up again and pulling my dress off my body.
His eyes devoured me whole, but he didn’t open his mouth to protest at seeing me only in my underwear again. I think he knew I respected his desire to wait until I was in better condition to have sex, so he must have had a pretty good idea of what I wanted.
With that in mind, I assumed my position over his lap again, enjoying the feeling of his pants against my practically naked body before calling out to him, “More, please.” He hesitated for a bit. I was about to get up and ask him to forget about this, the last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable, when suddenly, his hand collided with my backside.
“Is this what you wanted?” His voice sounded dark, and I felt a shiver run through my body as I nodded to his words. “Not good enough, little girl.” His hands pulled on my hair and I whimpered from the surprise and the pleasurable pain. “I’m going to need to hear you say it.”
A wave of hotness flushed down my body and I could feel my panties getting wet from his words. Never, in a million years, did I expect to be in this position, over my boss’s lap, with Aaron practically talking dirty with such an erotic voice.
“I-I need this,” I finally whimpered, before shifting over his body to adjust my weight, in the hopes of getting some friction between my legs. I hoped I had been discreet, but when I felt my boyfriend’s fingers lightly grazing over my panties on the precise spot I knew would be soaked in a few seconds, I knew I had been caught.
“I can see that.” It was almost funny to hear the smugness in Aaron’s tone, but I couldn’t laugh at that moment. Not when he was pressing the lace of my panties against the emptiness that was throbbing with need, effectively ruining the tissue as it became attached to my pussy lips. “You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I wholeheartedly admitted, trying to force myself not to thrust back into his fingers.
“Hmm…” I could practically *hear his desire, and I thought back on how he had stopped himself from going further with me because he didn’t want to take advantage of me in this state. But it couldn’t really be considered taking advantage if it would help the person in need, right?
“Do you know what would help me even better?” I managed to ask, knowing I had picked up his interest by the way he softly caressed my backside.
“What would that be, little girl?” The nickname ignited every single nerve end on my body, and I had to bite back a moan as he unexpectedly slapped my ass again.
“Y-you, daddy.” I *felt his cock jump up at my own nickname for him and that awarded me another slap, harder than the last one.
“And how do you want your daddy, sweetheart?” My attention had completely abandoned his words as I felt his fingers brush up against me again, slowly pushing the fabric of my underwear aside and caressing my wetness in direct contact for the first time. But then another slap echoed around the room and I gasped, bucking into the fingers that were only barely penetrating me. “Answer me, Y/N.”
“Inside of me, daddy.” A sharp intake of breath was all the warning I got before my panties were being forcibly pushed down to my ankles.
“What won’t daddy do for you, little girl?” He asked just before pushing a single long finger inside of me. I almost cried from how amazing it felt after not being touched for so long, but then a thumb was playing with my tiny pearl and a full-on sob escaped me.
“Please, don’t stop, please!” I begged, pulling on the arm that wasn’t otherwise occupied with me, worried that he’d think he had hurt me. However, the response I got was a soft caress on my head in an attempt to calm me down when he managed to release his arm from my grasp.
“I won’t stop, sweet girl. Relax against your daddy and let him take care of you.” The words were like a balm to the mental cuts I had performed on myself, and my body instantly fell slack against his lap.
“There you go. *Such a good, little girl.” Each word from his last sentence was punctuated with a sharp thrust of his finger that led me to start moaning - rather loudly, I supposed - like the trembling mess that I was. Suddenly, my underwear was being taken away from me and pressed against my lips. “Open up, princess.” I eagerly obeyed, desperate to continue receiving his touches, which he immediately resumed with a particular tug on my hair.
Aaron’s P.O.V.
“There you go. Can’t have anyone interrupting us now, can we, sweetheart?” It should feel weird how her broken sobs and moans made me grin from ear to ear, but I was too intoxicated by the power I felt to analyze the situation right now. I had wished for a way to help her. Now I had it. It was clear that this was what she needed, and I was more than happy to give it to her.
“You know, I’ve never done this before…” I started, carefully massaging her head with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied with her pussy. “I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying this.” I pulled on Y/N’s hair again, just in time to watch as her eyes rolled back, her orgasm finally catching up to her after I quickened the motions from my fingers.
“So beautiful,” I absentmindedly whispered as I waited for her to come back to me, not stopping any of my movements, but simply slowing them down. At last, with one final shiver, her body fell limp on my lap and I took my fingers from her with a chuckle at the displeased whine she let out at the emptiness.
I pulled her up so she would be seated on my lap now, her face carefully enveloped by my hands as I searched her eyes after pulling out her panties from her mouth. “How are you feeling, my love?” It was impossible not to be affected by the way she simply melted against me.
“Better. I’m so much better, Aaron, thank you so much.” She hid her face on the crook of my neck and I felt warm and intoxicated at the same time. I wanted to cuddle her and protect her for the rest of her life, but I also wanted to be tightly snuggled inside of her like nothing else on the planet. The dichotomy of this woman was simply too much.
“You’re welcome, my love.” I continued caressing her hair while hugging her close to me, paying no attention to the fact that she was most likely ruining my pants. After a while, she pushed away from my chest to look me in the eyes again.
“What about you, honey?” I knew what she meant. But despite how aroused I felt, I knew it still wasn’t the right moment, so that’s why I leaned down to give her a sweet kiss, before picking her up and softly laying her on the bed.
“I’m already okay, darling. Don’t you worry about me.” Despite knowing she understood where I was coming from, she couldn’t help but pout at me, which made me chuckle. “Soon, alright?” I lightly traced her bottom lip with my thumb as she nodded solemnly at me. “Thank you, sweetheart. Do you want me to stay here with you?”
The way her eyes lit up made me feel like the most special man in the world. “Would you do that?” It hurt me that she’d even doubt, for a second, what I would do for her, especially since it was something that I would also benefit from.
“Of course, darling. I’ll stay with you. I won’t be here when you wake up, because we don’t want the team to notice anything, but I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” She watched me with sleepy eyes as I carefully took off my clothes, putting them over the chair so they wouldn’t wrinkle, and then climbed up on the bed next to her, pulling her to me so she’d fall asleep listening to my heartbeat dance for her.
She’d be alright. I’d make sure of it.
#aaron hotchner smut#smut#aaron hotchner#my series#aaron hotchner reader#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner ff#aaron hotchner reader insert#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds reader
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mixtape - track eleven
| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |
I was hiding from myself too. I was hiding from the part of my brain that was like ‘what are you gonna do now?’. Like, there’s a part of your brain that does thrive off of feeling like shit.
The voice shifted, just for a moment.
Yea-
It was a tiny sound in the back, from behind the camera. It didn’t even form a full word before Ethan continued talking, but Indy flinched anyway. It was always worse when she was unprepared for it.
In her distraction, she’d streaked her concealer too far past her eye and sighed, using her finger to pat it in, ignoring the way it splotched. It probably wasn’t the right shade, and it was definitely expired, but it was enough for her to look like maybe she had slept in the last two weeks.
She hadn’t. Not really. Every time she closed her eyes, even to blink, he was there. Sometimes, she welcomed it. But in that moment, standing in her mirror in her scrubs, she didn’t want to see his face. She didn’t want to hear his voice. Because she had to keep it together for 16 hours. 12 hours at the hospital on the peds floor, and another 4 at her shift at Jet’s afterward. So she kept her eyes open, took a deep breath, and walked out of her bathroom.
On the other side of the country, Grayson’s eyes were closed.
He wasn’t sleeping. It was 4 in the afternoon, which was the earliest time he could consider himself done with work for the day and escape to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. It only got down to the high forties in LA, even in January, but he climbed under his comforter anyways, pulled his baby blanket up by his face.
Time seemed to crawl by while he lay there alone. He rolled to his side, pulling his pillow down to wrap his arms around it, and when he opened his eyes, he wished he hadn’t. On his nightstand, turned towards him, was the frame that Indy had gotten him for Christmas. He wished she hadn’t curled up so much when he’d taken it. He wished he could see her face more in the glossy material, wished she had given him a picture of just her instead. When he squeezed his eyes shut again he could see her face better, every feature committed to memory. So he looked. He focused on the different shades of blue in her eyes and pretended like she was in class, and that he was on her couch waiting for her to come home.
A knock sounded on his door, and his heart tightened.
Ethan stepped in the room with a bag of Monty’s and a hopeful smile.
Grayson didn’t move.
“I brought you dinner.”
Nothing.
Ethan sighed, dropping the act. He was giving up on it earlier and earlier these days.
“Bro, you’ve gotta eat. You didn’t eat lunch.”
“Not hungry.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m not.”
“Well, tough shit then, cause I’m not leaving you alone until you eat at least some of this.”
Grayson knew his brother, better than he knew himself sometimes, and he could tell by his tone that he was serious. He didn’t have the energy for a fight, and despite himself, his stomach growled at the smell of the fries in the bag, salty and warm. So he sat up begrudgingly and let Ethan pass him the bag, pretending not to see how his shoulders slumped in relief.
He didn’t have to ask why Ethan stayed. It was to make sure he didn’t sit the bag down as soon as he closed the door behind him. So he waited, and he watched his brother eat his burger slower than usual, fighting to chew it and force it down.
“Where’s yours?” He asked eventually - he knew better than to think that Ethan hadn’t gotten himself a burger.
“I uh… I ate with Eden.”
Grayson stopped chewing. His question was blatant in his eyes, and he waited for the answer.
“No, I didn’t fucking tell her,” Ethan grumbled, running his hand over his face. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I feel like I’m fucking lying to her.”
“Did she ask about… her?” He caught himself. He hadn’t said her name since they left New York.
“Not yet. She knows something is up with you though, and if she starts asking questions I’m telling her.”
“No.” It wasn’t a plea. It was a demand.
“Grayson. She’s gonna find out eventually, I gotta tell her.”
“No. Twin code.”
“Don’t pull that shit man, c’mon, we aren’t six anymore. That’s my wife, and she’s gonna be pissed as fuck at me. If you don’t tell her, I’m gonna have to.”
Grayson stayed quiet and put the rest of his burger back in the bag, his small appetite fading to nausea at the thought of having to admit to anyone else what he had done. He hadn’t had to explain it yet - Ethan knew enough to put the pieces together, and he had enough heart to stay quiet on the plane, just passing over his napkin from his drink as an extra tissue while Grayson looked out the window and cried quietly. But he wasn’t going to tell Eden - he wasn’t ready for that.
Ethan sighed. “I’m just saying Gray, she’s gonna start asking me questions, and I’m not gonna lie to her, that’s not me. That’s not either of us.” He paused, hoping for a response he knew he wasn’t going to get. “Whatever. We have a meeting at 10 tomorrow.”
Ethan left the room in silence, and Grayson closed his eyes.
Indy’s struggled to keep hers open. It was almost 4 am the worst hours of her shift. She poured another cup of coffee from the nurses’ lounge, ignoring the fact that it was burnt as she sipped it down and willed herself to wake up. Part of her wished it was iced - warm drinks made her sleepy, and worse, reminded her of cold New Jersey mornings that she couldn’t afford to think of. Just the idea of reminiscing made her chest tighten enough for her to suck in a breath and start to search for a distraction. She read the schedule instead, checking to see what tech would replace her come 7 am. She still had two vital checks to do on each patient, opting to do them on the even hours. Her head tipped back as she drained the rest of her cup and tossed it in the trash, needing to keep her mind busy.
It wasn’t her job - only nurses could distribute meds, but she could prep the trays for the kids to make their lives easier. So she moved to the med cart and started to look through.
“Adams, Adrian, Bellon, Campbell, Cortez, Jenkins, Kimp, Lopez, Mullins, Norton.” Her fingers stopped for a moment as she traced down the last names on the cart, mumbling them out. No Newcomb. She double-checked. Nothing.
Bekah didn’t have a tray.
Indy’s heart sped up a bit, and she waited until she saw Ayria, one of the night shift nurses, coming out of a room.
“Hey, do you need me to get Newcomb a tray? Hers isn’t on here.” It felt weird to refer to Bekah by her last name, but she didn’t want to seem unprofessional.
Ayria frowned, coming to log into the computer on the med cart and check the charts.
“Oh yeah, everything she’s getting is IV right now, no pills.”
Indy took a breath and steadied herself, glad to see that the clock had turned and she was able to make her rounds. She’d become an expert at taking vitals without waking the kids up - even some of the more seasoned nurses were impressed.
But she could never get past Beks.
The first day, during Indy’s orientation, Bekah could tell something was wrong. It was only three days after Grayson had left after all. Indiana knew that the floor needed a tech, and she knew they’d take her as soon as she asked. She also knew that if she let herself stay at home that she’d never leave it again. So she went and bought the cheapest scrubs she could find and mustered up enough energy to show up.
She didn’t really need Ayria to show her around that day. She knew the unit inside and out from her time as a volunteer; she just needed the codes for the supply rooms and a list of her tasks for her 12-hour shift. But she was glad that they were together when they went into Bekah’s room because Bekah was kind enough not to say anything with someone else there. Now, she didn’t hold back.
“You look like shit,” she said as soon as Indy walked in.
“It’s 4 am, you should be asleep,” Indy countered with a smirk. The incident on Christmas was forgiven without a second thought, and she was relieved to be back to their normal banter as she put her blood pressure cuff on.
“You should be asleep. This is your last shift of the week though.”
“Says who?”
“You’ve been here three days already, that’s the max you can work without overtime.”
Indy kept quiet and wrote down her blood pressure in the chart.
“Are you okay?” Bekah asked quietly, and Indy sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop the tears flooding her eyes.
“I’m fine Beks. Promise.”
Bekah contemplated if she should say it.
“Is it Grayson?”
Indy’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands shook as she held up the thermometer, and she had to blink hard to be able to read the numbers and scribble them down.
Bekah took her silence as an answer.
“Sorry. I know it must be hard, having him so far away,” she murmured. Indy couldn’t find her voice to tell her that it was okay. She fiddled with her blankets, tucking her in nicely and dimming her lights down to give her time to clear the knot in her throat.
“Get some sleep Beks.”
She held it together until she got outside her room, and then the tears escaped. As quickly as she could, she ducked her head and beelined for the nurses’ desk, using her oldest trick of drinking water to keep herself from fully breaking down.
Valentina sat at her desk and watched with a frown, but she didn’t say anything.
Indy gave herself one minute, and then she took a deep breath and got back to work.
Time crawled, and she cursed herself for not leaving enough things to keep her busy for the rest of her shift. By 6 am, she’d resorted to cleaning the tables in the break room and reorganizing supplies in the supply closet to keep herself occupied. She knew the day shift nurses would appreciate the extra effort - they always sung her praises, thrilled to work a shift after her considering how well she set it up for them.
Valentina came into the supply closet at 6:30.
“You might just work our daytime tech out of a job,” she said, making Indy jump and drop the bandages she was restocking.
“You scared me,” she said, catching her breath. “Just restocking.”
“You work too hard,” Valentina shook her head, crossing her arms. “You’re gonna burn yourself out sweetheart, and we need you around here.”
“I’ll be alright.”
“You act like I don’t know you’re going to your other job right after this.”
“They give me good coffee there, what can I say,” Indy teased, but when she looked Valentina’s eyes were sad. “I like to keep busy.”
“Too busy,” she tsked. “You leave at 6:50 today.”
“Valentina-”
“Keep talking and I’ll make it 6:40,” she threatened. “And you get some sleep later, you hear me?”
“Yes ma’am,” Indy conceded, knowing it wasn’t an argument she could win. Nurses weren’t the type to lose an argument, and she’d never met a more nurse-y nurse than Valentina. She finished stocking quickly, gathering her bags and double-checking she’d finished everything before she headed out, waving goodbye to the nurses she saw.
She was distracted on her way out, and she didn’t think when she hit the button to get into the next hallway.
For two weeks, she prepped. Mentally paused and thought of all the things that could hit her out of the blue, make her come unraveled. She was ready, for the couples in the street holding hands, for the husbands coming to walk their wives home from work, the high schoolers on hot chocolate dates in the big city. But it was always the small things that got her.
She hadn’t prepared herself, and her eyes automatically went to the walls when she cleared the doors. The ocean mural. The jellyfish, the sea turtle on the wall that Grayson had said looked like Ethan once. It hit her like a ton of bricks, her chest so tight that she reached up to press on it as she heard his voice in her head. It made her feel pathetic, the way she had to stop and grab onto the rail in the hall and steady herself for a moment. She counted her breaths, trying her hardest to shut her mind off, staring at the blue of the walls as she willed herself to be okay, just for another day.
Grayson was staring at the water. Or at least, he was trying to. The moon wasn’t very bright, but it reflected enough off the ocean for him to get a sense of which way the sun would come up. The whole surface was washed black by the night sky, and it was peaceful. He wanted to swim in it. He wanted to sink beneath it and find that blissful quiet you could only find underwater.
He’d fallen asleep soon after Ethan had left him alone, which meant he found himself wide awake at 4 am, body tired of being asleep. Sitting in bed would only make things worse, so he sent Ethan a quick text and headed off in the Porsche towards the secret beach. There was no one else there so early in the morning, and he was grateful. It gave him the peace of mind to curl in on himself, let the tears flow freely as the waves lapped at the shore, returning over and over.
Time ran away from him in the dark. His tears ceased eventually, dried themselves out as he sat in his misery. He didn’t fight it. Instead, he let it wash over him, sink into every pore and weigh him down, wishing he could somehow disappear into the sand as the sun started to rise and wash the world in light orange. His phone buzzed, no doubt a text from his brother. He elected to ignore it, keeping his eyes on the water, counting the waves as they came in. It was admirable, the dedication they showed; returning every time they got sucked back out.
At some point, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he sighed, pulling his hood up over his head in a feeble attempt to hide himself from whoever was watching him. He stood up and brushed the sand off himself, ducking his head down and jogging straight back to his car, hoping whoever it was wasn’t trying to come up to him.
As soon as he ducked into his car and pulled the door shut, he sunk down, resting his forehead against his steering wheel.
“Fuck!” He yelled, smacking his dashboard. His radio turned on with a jolt, connected to his phone and automatically starting his playlist. Cudi blared through the speakers and he groaned, hitting all the wrong buttons in an attempt to get it to turn off.
“Stop, fucking stop!” In a last attempt he chucked his phone across the car, watched it ricochet off the dash and down into the floorboard. He threw his car into reverse with blurry eyes, desperate to get away from anyone who might have a camera. He was paranoid the whole drive home that someone was watching, eyes darting to the windows of any car he ended up next to at a stoplight. It wasn’t until he got the gate closed behind him and he was in the house that he felt like he could breathe again. With Ethan still asleep down the hall, he choked back his sobs as he sat down at the counter, face in his hands.
Indy was taking deep breaths behind the counter as the line started to pile up at Jet’s. She looked to her right, frowning at the stress on her new coworker, Mariposa’s, face as the cups continued to line up next to her.
“Hey Posie,” she called over between customers. “Do you wanna switch?”
“God yes,” she exclaimed, rushing to take Indy’s place at the register so she could move over to the bar.
Indiana preferred it that way. She didn’t have to smile for a latte, she just had to pour it and try not to burn her fingers and move on to the next. It had come back like second nature to her, and she liked the fast pace. It gave less time for her to think, and she welcomed the numbing repetition. She kept an ear piqued towards the register, listening to the orders coming in so she could get ahead. The next one came from a taller man, his face hidden behind a coat.
“Just give me the biggest cup of the strongest stuff you’ve got.”
Indy dropped her cup, a half poured latte splattering all over her hands first, down her apron, then the bottom of her jeans and onto her shoes. It only took one look over at the man to realize it wasn’t Grayson, and she deflated.
“Shit,” she hissed, flicking her hands in an attempt to chill the burn that was already searing on her skin. She side-stepped to the sink, flipping the cold water on and letting it flow over her hands. It stung even more, and she sighed at the bright red of her skin. She’d had enough burns from her time as a barista to know that it would blister.
“Indiana, you okay?” Patrick called from the ovens, moving a line of pastries in and out.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”
He frowned, but kept quiet, letting her get back into the groove of making drinks. Indy could feel him watching her, the familiar weight of a protective eye over her shoulder. At least he was kind enough to wait until her shift was over before he tried to talk to her again.
“Hey, how’s your hand?”
Indy looked down and sighed at the sight of her red skin, resisting the urge to rub it. Instead, she moved to the first aid kit and grabbed a wrap bandage.
“It’s been better, but I’ll survive.”
“Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow,” Patrick suggested as casually as he could. “You know, to rest your hand.”
Indy scoffed.
“It’s not gonna fall off Patrick, I’m fine.”
He sighed. “Fine, if you’re gonna make me say it then I will. You’re a hard worker, one of the best we have, but you’re exhausted. We can all see it, and you don’t need to burn yourself out like this for a minimum wage job. So, you’re off tomorrow. No exceptions.”
“But-”
“No. Exceptions.”
Her anger bubbled up in her like the blister forming on her thumb, but she knew it wasn’t Patrick’s fault. He was right - she was just upset at the idea of having an entire day with nothing to distract her. An empty apartment had never seemed so daunting, and it was all she could think about as she clocked out, got her things together, and walked home.
It was quieter than she’d imagined when she got through the door, the click of the latch echoing through the still space. She thought of turning on music, but that only made her think of Grayson, singing off-key next to her in the truck. She could put on a movie, but it would make her think of cuddling with him on the couch. Her bed was where he had been so many nights. He’d cooked in her kitchen, he’d helped her move furniture in the guest room.
She couldn’t escape him, no matter where she went. And so, as pathetic as she felt doing it, she sunk down right there on the floor, and she let the misery have her. It came in broken sobs that caught on her throat on the way out, too loud even for her own ears as she tried to imagine a day where she didn’t feel like the world was crumbling around her.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there. But eventually, the things no one ever talked about started to happen. Her butt went numb, and her head started to hurt, and her lips got dry from the saltwater that ran over them. None of that mattered though. What finally got her up from the cold floor was the fact that she was sticky - remnants of the vanilla syrup in the latte that she’d dropped finally congealing and making her feel more disgusting than the tears. She peeled herself up off the floor and headed to her bathroom.
Grayson was in the shower, with his head down, water splashing over his back and bouncing off his shoulders - a statue in the rain. It was the best place to avoid getting on his phone, considering he couldn’t, and that was the only way he could trust himself to not get on twitter and see the aftermath of the morning.
He wondered for a moment what he looked like from outside the glass shower door, standing there with his razor up by his chest. The blades clogged with the long hairs he shaved from his chest, leaving him bare and smoother than he’d been in months. He sat the razor down and moved to pick up a clear bottle from the shelf. Polis was scribbled on it in sharpie in Ethan’s handwriting, remnants of a Wakeheart meeting. Grayson could remember how excited he was to pitch the idea, even if it was over zoom.
“I finally came up with the third body wash scent. Vanilla, with a hint of coffee and then a little bit of sandalwood to keep it professional and put together.”
He’d had to whisper it - Indy was asleep in her room, the product of a good post study-session back rub that had lulled her into a much-needed nap. The team loved it, thought it complimented the other two scents they’d been testing well. Ethan was hesitant, but he kept his mouth shut and brainstormed a backup if needed.
Grayson was thankful for the gesture, even when he’d told him that he’d started planning it as early as he had. But he wasn’t willing to give it up, and he made it very clear in their first meeting back that Polis was a permanent scent. It felt like a tiny piece of her that he could hold onto. Still, as he stood there and held the bottle up to his nose, it wasn’t the same. As pitiful as it made him feel, he tried closing his eyes, tried to imagine she was there with him, standing in front of him, giggling like she always did when they showered together.
He couldn’t do it justice. Couldn’t feel the warmth of her skin against his, couldn’t smell her shampoo or watch her try to bend over and shave her legs in her small apartment shower without bumping into him. He’d held her hips to help her keep her balance, listened to her laugh and talk about casual intimacy, heard the way it echoed off the tiles and became his favorite sound in the entire world.
His tears mixed with the water, his pain palpable as he started to quiver just barely, the memory enough to break down the paper thin wall he’d managed to drag back up to protect himself. When his knees shook he gave up and sunk to the ground, green tiles of the bench seat icy against his back as he buried his face in his hands. He’d never felt weaker in his life, and he wished he was ten again, so his dad could wrap his strong arm around his shoulder and tell him that everything would be alright.
He went for the next best thing once he managed to get enough energy to get up and turn the water off. A few swipes of his towel over his body and hair, then he pulled his boxers on and put on his robe, walking straight out of his room and down the hall.
Ethan’s door was open, but he wasn’t in his bed like Gray expected. He was at his desk instead, a look of stress on his face that Grayson was all too familiar with. A pang of guilt resonated in him when he realized what his brother was doing - picking up all the slack that he was leaving in his misery.
He hadn’t said a word about it though, and that made it worse.
It took Ethan a moment to realize his brother was there, but as soon as he did he turned his desk chair, giving him his full attention.
“Hey.”
Grayson didn’t answer.
“You okay?” Ethan tried again. Grayson’s throat burned, and he shook his head, sitting on the end of the bed. He’d never been able to hide from Ethan, and luckily, he never really had to. Because Ethan was the type of brother to act tough when he needed to, but soften up at the smallest things. Which was why Grayson wasn’t surprised to see his brother rise up out of his chair, coming to sit next to him. The bed sunk down a bit with his weight, and Grayson let himself press up against his brother. The air felt heavy while he waited.
“You’re good. Just let it out.” Ethan’s voice was quiet, and he leaned his cheek against his brother’s head and felt him go to pieces. It was the hardest Grayson had cried since the airport, and every sniffle made his head pound but he couldn’t pull himself together. Those were the kind of moments where he wondered how people survived without twin brothers. He felt safe there with Ethan - if everything else fell apart, at least he’d have him. There were a million things he could say, but he already knew what the answers would be. Ethan would tell him that he’d find someone else some day, and that Indy would heal and that he shouldn’t feel guilty for doing what he did. He also knew that Ethan would say all of it even if he didn’t believe it, because their pain was shared.
Grayson cried himself out again after an hour or so, his sinuses pounding behind his eyes as the headache settled in.
Ethan stayed still - he knew better than to leave him. It wasn’t until Grayson finally wiped at his eyes that his brother relaxed a bit, watched him stand up and run his hands over his face. It felt colder without Ethan right next to him, but he knew he needed to sleep.
“Try to get some sleep,” Ethan echoed his thoughts. “We need to record the pod tonight if you can.”
“Okay. I can help with the emails, I know we probably have a shit ton.”
Ethan was already shaking his head before he finished.
“Just get some sleep, okay?”
Grayson nodded and gave him the best smile he could manage before he went back into his room, climbing back into the safety of his covers with his phone in his hand, just in case she called.
Indy’s pillow was wet. It was mainly from her hair soaking into the pillowcase - she didn’t have the energy to dry it after her shower. But she’d also made a terrible mistake. One scroll through the app store and a quick log in and she was back onto instagram, ignoring the now thousands of follow requests she had in her notifications. It only took one click to her explore page and her tears were adding to the moisture below her cheek.
He had on his Cudi hoodie, the yellow one. She wished she’d been there to tell him not to wear it. It was too bright, a target for the cameras that seemed to find him. The first ones she saw stung. They were only of his back, taken from far enough away that she could pretend it was someone else. But she knew the way he sat, with his arms over his knees.
The next ones hurt, because she could see his face. He was walking, and she knew him well enough to know he’d realized what was happening and tried to leave, just from his posture, the way he slumped while walking. His eyes were red, those dark circles that she’d ran her fingers over so many times worse than she’d ever seen them. Ever since he’d left, she’d wanted to know how he felt. If he missed her at all, if he was as miserable as she seemed to be every minute of every day.
It hurt worse to get her answer than it did to wonder. She’d hoped he was upset, but suddenly all she wanted to do was hold him, tell him it was okay, that she was okay even though she wasn’t. It was impossible not to scroll, looking for anything new, any hints as to what he had been up to since he’d gotten off that plane.
She had never asked for a front row seat to his life, but she’d take it if it was the only glimpse of him that she could get. It made her feel pathetic, but she didn’t care enough to fight it.
Eventually, she found herself scrolling his page. She couldn’t tell how she got there, but she couldn’t seem to leave it either. So she just scrolled, averting her eyes from any comments, and pretending, just for a moment, that everything was back to the way it was. That he was just busy recording a podcast, or that he’d be sprawled out on her couch when she went out to the living room.
She held onto it until she walked out of her room, knowing she needed to eat even though she didn’t want to. She kept her eyes off the couch, moving to her cabinets that were barren apart from a few avocados that were rotten. With a sigh she threw them in the trash that was close to overflowing, opting instead for the last box of mac and cheese she had left.
Indy was thankful for muscle memory, her mind wandering off to better days where her kitchen wasn’t so quiet as she cooked the pasta she really didn’t want and took it back to her room, curling up under her covers as she ate.
Grayson had two empty boxes of vegan mac and cheese in front of him, one of which obviously had an ‘E’ scribbled on it that he’d ignored when he made them. He shoveled the noodles into his mouth, ignoring the way they burnt his tongue just barely. Ethan walked in and saw the boxes, opened his mouth and shut it again.
“S’pod setup?” Grayson said around a mouthful.
“Yeah, I set up the pod, we’re good whenever you’re ready.”
“Gimminute.”
Ethan just chuckled and shook his head, happy to at least see his brother eating even if he was shoveling it down like he hadn’t seen food before. He waited, seeing that Gray was done within the next two minutes, sitting his bowl in the sink and stretching his arms out. He looked tired, but Ethan hoped the pod camera was far enough away from them to make the dark circles subtle enough.
“Do you want some of my old concealer stuff? For under your eyes?”
Grayson hesitated for a moment, picking at his nails. “You still have it?”
“Yeah, hang on.” Ethan ran to his bathroom, snagged the compact from his bottom drawer and brought it to the kitchen. “Come over here, you’re supposed to do it in natural light.”
He held it out for Grayson, who just looked up at him.
“I don’t know how the fuck to do it, you do it.”
“Do I look like a makeup artist to you?” Ethan asked, and when Grayson stayed quiet, he sighed and flipped the compact open, swiping his finger through the semi-creamy substance and moving to pat it on his brother, frowning when it was more difficult than he thought it would be. “Look up you fuck, I gotta blend it.”
Grayson just rolled his eyes but did as he was told, sitting still until E said he was finished and led the way to the studio. They got settled in their chairs, double checking the camera angles. Ethan cleared his throat, waiting until his brother looked at him.
“Are we… do you want to mention anything about…”
Grayson waited. He wondered if his brother was really going to be dumb enough to ask.
“Are we talking about the pictures, yes or no.”
“What the fuck do you think the answer to that is,” Gray grumbled.
“I’m just saying, if you mention it you can say what you want about it, get your own voice out there. Whatever you say, I’ll go along with it.”
“Great.”
Grayson took a deep breath, gave Ethan a look that read as an apology, and clicked the button to start recording. He stayed fairly quiet the first few minutes of the recording, waiting to jump into a conversation that didn’t make his throat tight. The podcast was his favorite place, because he could let himself actually speak, say what he wanted to say without worrying.
It came back to bite him in the ass 45 minutes into the episode, when his guard was down and he had finally lost himself the way he did when he worked. They were talking about birds, and how they had a bad, unjustified rep.
“I mean, Gizmo can be an asshole sometimes, but she’s only an asshole when people are like, scared of her,” Ethan mused.
“Right! She gets all shy when I come home after a while, but when Dee came in the house the first time she was freaking out, just from hearing her and I swear, every time after that Giz just like, screamed every single time she was even in the house.”
“Gray-”
“No seriously! You remember how loud she got? Fuck, remember that time she went down to help mom with dessert and Giz was out and she cried?”
“Grayson.”
“What? Did I peak the mic?”
Ethan’s eyes were sad. “You… you said her name.”
“Huh?”
“Indiana. You said Dee, when you were telling that story.”
He swallowed hard. “Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He could see him spiraling, and he tried to reel him back in. “You’re okay. We can just cut it, and start again with a story about Gizmo.”
“Yeah uh… just give me a second.”
“Sure. Whatever you need.”
“Just, uh, say what you said again before,” Grayson murmured, shaking his head to try and clear it. But it was too late - he was so consumed by what his mind had brought back to the surface that he could barely hear Ethan repeat his words.
“Yeah-” Grayson came in a moment late. “Giz is a special one.”
Ethan waited for him to continue, but jumped in when he didn’t. “She gets shy when you haven’t been home in a while and you show up. That’s the thing about animals dude, like people think about cats and dogs and they can recognize their emotions, but with stuff like birds and cows and shit, people just don’t think about them that way, and it fucking sucks. They have feelings too! Gizmo’s fucking sassy bro, she will let you know how she’s feeling, especially if she’s pissed. Bro, we should have Giz on the pod, do you think she’d talk? She can whistle, we could show off her tricks.”
“You can’t put a bird on a plane,” Grayson mumbled. His eyes were fixed down on the blue center of the table, and he was fidgeting with his sleeves.
“Yeah, but we can put the mics in our suitcases and just record at home.”
Ethan realized it a moment too late. He wanted to snatch his words out of the air, scratch them from the tape when he saw the way Grayson’s eyes met his, saw the gloss near his waterline.
“Yeah - uh - um,” Grayson tried to save it, and then he covered his mouth, silencing the squeak that turned into a sob. He pretended it was a cough, bringing his hand up and running his fingers over his forehead, shielding his eyes from the camera.
“I uh, I miss home a lot more this time than I usually do,” he said, his voice froggy with the tightness of his throat. Ethan couldn’t say anything. There was nothing to say as he watched his brother fight and lose in his battle to keep his composure, covering his mouth as he cried, knuckles brushing up against the mic.
“Fuck, sorry, I’m sorry E.”
“It’s okay, hey, it’s okay.” Ethan was up so fast he forgot to take off his headphones. They fell back into the chair when they pulled off his ears as he moved to his brother, pulling him up into a hug. “We can finish it later, we’ll just cut to an ad or something. It’s okay.”
“Sorry.”
“Shh. It’s fine bro, it’s fine. C’mon, let’s go get some air.”
Air wasn’t what they found.
Instead, they found Eden, standing against the counter with her arms crossed in a way that had Ethan’s blood running cold. He thought the sight of Grayson practically curled in on himself might have softened her up, but she stood her ground until both of the twins were looking at her.
Grayson knew that she knew, and she only confirmed it when she spoke.
“What. The fuck. Is wrong with you.”
Back in New York, Indy’s phone was ringing. Or at least, she thought it was. But when she unlocked it and was blinded by the light, it was just her lockscreen, Grayson smiling at her with 3:04 written across the top. Judging by the darkness, she knew she hadn’t slept the afternoon away, but the buzzing continued until she finally climbed out of bed and realized it was the intercom system - the front desk calling her through the small phone on her wall that hardly ever rang. She pulled it off the receiver and held it up to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi Ms. Cross, there’s a gentleman here to see you.”
Her heart skipped, and she clutched the phone with both her hands.
“Who?”
There was a beat of silence, and Indy could vaguely hear her ask him for a name.
“His name is Devin.”
She sucked in a breath, letting her head and her hopes fall.
“Send him up.”
It took her a moment to process her grief before the panic set in. If Devin was showing up unannounced, something bad must have happened. She swung her door open, chewing on her nails as she stood in the doorway, waiting for him to appear. He came out of the elevator with a small duffle slung over his shoulder and a cautious smile that had her ready to cry.
“Dev, what the hell are you doing here? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“Charlie?”
“Also fine. We’re fine.”
She caught her breath, and then she was frowning. “If everything is fine, why the fuck are you here at 3am?”
“Because you haven’t answered your sister’s calls in a week, and she’s worried sick about you.”
Guilt panged in her stomach - she hadn’t meant to ignore her. In all honesty, she’d ignored everyone without realizing it.
“I- sorry, I didn’t mean to. Just slipped my mind. Is she here too?”
“She’s got a wedding to shoot this weekend, and we only had one ticket anyways. Flight got delayed, tried to find a hotel for the night so I could wait until later this morning but I couldn’t find one so you’re stuck with me. Sorry,” he teased, reaching out to hold onto her shoulder. There was no malice in his voice, and Indy was grateful. “Let’s go inside.”
He didn’t ask for it, but she made him a coffee anyways alongside her own. She was tired, her eyes burning, but it wasn’t anything new from the last few weeks. She fought it, pulling one of the few sweatshirts Grayson had left at her place over her head before she sat on the couch, waiting.
Devin was quiet, tapping his fingers against his mug, out of his element.
“Dev.”
“Hmm?”
“You didn’t fly to New York to drink coffee with me. Talk.”
He sighed, sitting his mug down on the coffee table and turning towards her.
“Inds, we’re worried about you.”
Indy scoffed, a short, automatic sound.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you aren’t. You really, really aren’t. You’re running yourself into the ground for no good reason.”
“I’m trying to pay rent,” she countered, but even she knew it wasn’t true.
“Your hospital job pays more than rent. Jet’s is just because you’re scared to let your mind rest.”
Indy didn’t have an answer, so she sipped her coffee instead, cursing herself for telling Charlie everything in a moment of weakness. The silence was loud, and Devin sighed to break it after far too long.
“Have you talked to him? Since?”
Her throat was tight. “No.”
Devin wrung his hands together. “You do know it was fucked up what he did, right?”
“Dev-”
“I’m just making sure you know that. You can still make your own decision on however you wanna navigate it in the future, but you have to acknowledge that what he did was a new level of shitty. And he’s a good guy, I really do think he is, but he fucked you over, and you’re my family. And I protect my family. So I just need you to know that you didn’t deserve what he did to you, and he fucked up. Big time.”
“Right.”
“Okay, good.”
She let him believe it, though she’d only said it to appease him. She wondered if he would feel differently, if he had seen. If he had felt, the way that Grayson had shook in her arms, the way his sobs seemed to be ripping him apart every moment that he was hurting her. She wanted to pull up her phone, show him the pictures from the beach, show him that he was hurting too, that he didn’t want to hurt her. She wanted to prove it to him.
“When does your semester start?” He asked, pulling her mind off of it. She swallowed hard, then took another drink of coffee.
Indiana had spent three days in self pity when she got back from the airport. She let the misery have her fully - didn’t change her clothes, barely ate, hardly left her bedroom. And then, after that, she picked herself up and got to work. She applied for her tech job and called Patrick to see if she could get the schedules to align, and more importantly, she’d started to run numbers.
Medical school. Just the application fees alone were going to hit her budget hard, so much so that she reduced it down to two. JCU, and UCLA.
Her applications had gotten accepted three days prior, along with an email about a scholarship she was eligible for at UCLA that made it comparable to JCU’s tuition. But the money wasn’t the issue, and when it was time to accept, she knew that UCLA wouldn’t hold her spot forever.
She’d taken a deep breath, and emailed the registrar.
“I deferred.”
She was embarrassed to say it outloud, and for some reason it was the brick of the dam that fell, and her tears began to flow. She felt Devin’s hand on her shoulder before he spoke.
“Good.”
She hadn’t expected him to be mean - in fact, the meanest thing she’d ever heard him say was what he’d just said about Grayson. But it still shocked her enough to have her frowning.
“Good?”
“Indy. Do you realize how long you’ve been a student? Do you know who you are outside of being one?”
“I-”
“You’re the smartest person I know, and I love you, but I think you need to take a step back and really look at what you’re doing. Take a semester, fuck, take a year. Live. Breathe. You’re already ahead, and you’ll still be ahead.”
“I’m not worried about being ahead, Dev,” she whispered, running her hands over her face.
“Then what are you worried about?” There was a sincerness in his voice, and a gentleness in the way he held her hand that made her cry even harder.
“I just don’t know what the fuck to do anymore,” she blubbered, grateful when he pulled her over to his chest in a hug. He let her cry it out for a while, waiting until she was calm enough to hear him.
“I don’t have the answer to that, but I say, ask yourself what you really want the rest of your life to look like, and then do whatever you have to to get there. If it’s being a doctor, great. If it’s not, great. Just as long as it’s what you want.”
She took a shaky breath in, and blew it out through her lips, simply giving him a nod.
The problem was, she knew exactly what she wanted - and he was off in Los Angeles, cowering behind his brother.
“Baby, woah, hey, take it easy,” Ethan cautioned, side stepping into the war path she’d outlined, headed straight for Grayson. Her eyes were fire when she looked at her boyfriend and raised an eyebrow.
“He’s having a rough night, just take it easy,” he added.
He stoked the flames.
“You know who else is probably having a rough fucking night? Indiana. And we are gonna talk later-” she poked a finger into Ethan’s chest - “but right now, I’m not talking to you so I suggest you get out of my way.”
There was a bite in her tone that had Ethan rocking back on his heels, questioning just how far his duties as protective brother would go. He breathed out a sigh when he felt Grayson’s hand on his shoulder.
“It’s fine E.”
He’d never admit it, but Grayson had been waiting. Ever since he pulled away on New Year’s, he had waited for the punishment. The anger, the disbelief, the spite that he thought would arise in Indiana at the realization of what he’d done.
It wasn’t until he got off the plane and into his room that he realized his true punishment would be the guilt, and the grief, and the realization that he’d pushed away the only future he’d ever truly known he wanted.
The anger was a welcomed change.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck, Grayson.”
“I know.”
“I don’t say a lot of shit about a lot of shit, but whoever you decide to be with could possibly end up as part of my family, forever, so fuck me if I’m invested, and I think I deserve an explanation on why I just got a call from Charlie to see if I’d talked to Indy, cause she’s ‘really going through it’.”
“I didn’t want to hurt her.” His eyes turned glossy, and Ethan stood up straighter.
“The fuck you didn’t,” she scoffed, running her hand through her hair to push her curls out of her face. “You realize how badly you fucked up, right? Right?”
“Yes.”
“And that you broke her heart right? Probably absolutely fucking destroyed her.”
“Eden-” Ethan spoke up.
“Yes,” Grayson answered, his chest tight. He wrapped his arms around himself, willed them to hold him together. It felt different, to have someone say it to him so directly, to confirm what he had done.
“Then why? Just… why?”
“Long distance wouldn’t have worked, and I didn’t want -”
“Oh bullshit. No one would have tried harder than Indiana to make that work, you fucking know that.”
“She shouldn’t have to deal with that, with me being so far away -”
“God you fucking self-sacrificial fuck!” She yelled. “She loved you, you moron, and when you love someone, you give! You hit a crossroads, you sit down and have a fucking conversation, and you fucking give! That’s what a fucking real relationship looks like, not you deciding that you don’t deserve to be loved and running in the other fucking direction!” Her face was red when she stopped to catch her breath. Ethan looked just as shocked at the outburst as his brother. Her mind seemed to catch up to her ears, and she backtracked.
“Sorry, fuck, that was -”
“No, you're right. You’re right. Everything you said was fucking right,” Grayson didn’t even try to hide his tears. He blubbered into his hands, ugly choking sobs that he wasn’t sure how he even produced. Ethan was at his side immediately, arm wrapped around his shoulders.
“What do I do?” He asked, voice muffled by his hands until he finally raised his head and looked at Eden with pleading eyes, waiting for an answer she was reluctant to give.
“You let her live. Don’t text her, don’t call her. If she calls, you don’t answer. When you go home, you don’t see her. You let her let go, and move on.”
All he could do was nod, and lean into his brother.
Indy leaned against the wall. It was cold and unrelenting against her shoulder, but it held her up better than her own legs would. She’d dropped Devin off at the airport that afternoon, and found herself back on the ped’s floor, waiting.
Valentina spotted her first from the nurses station, and the way she held her clipboard made it look like a weapon.
“My eyes better be deceiving me, cause’ I know that is not Indiana Cross standing in my hallway on her day off.”
Indy found it in her to laugh dryly. “Relax Val, I’m here to see Beks. Haven’t gotten to visit her off the clock for a while.”
Valentina still gave her signature disapproving stare, but she gave it up with a sigh. “Well, her family is visiting too. Mom and Dad, if you wanna say hi.”
It had been a long time since she’d seen Mr. and Mrs. Newcomb. They were lovely people, and they truly did come see her as often as they could. But they also worked two jobs a piece to try to foot the medical bills, which meant often was scarce.
Indy had never seen them in the same room before, and her stomach tightened. She was hesitant to go to Bekah’s room, scared to interrupt, but when she peaked her head around her doorway, she saw the couple sitting on the couch in the room quietly.
Mrs. Newcomb spotted her, eyes brightening as she waved her inside.
“Come in, come in!”
Indy was still hesitant as she walked inside, eyes darting over to a sleeping Bekah. She was curled up under her halloween blanket, brows furrowed down and skin pale.
“Hi Indiana, how are you sweet girl?” Mrs. Newcomb asked.
“I’m good, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just thought I might stop by and check on her but I don’t want to intrude.”
“No, no you’re fine! She was actually asking about you just before she went to sleep, you and Earring, whoever that is. Hang on.”
Indy watched as she moved over to the edge of her daughter’s bed, running her thumb along her cheek until she started to stir.
“Sweetheart, Indiana is here to see you. Can you open your eyes for me?”
Bekah whined, but pulled her eyes open, smiling slightly when Indiana moved into her view.
“Hey punk,” Indy said, crouching down so she could get to her level.
“Hey,” she whispered, voice hoarse. On instinct, Indy reached out to fix her head wrap, making Bekah’s mother smile. “What time is it?”
“6:55,” Indy answered.
“Mmm. Meds coming soon,” she mumbled. “Where’s Earrings? He doesn’t like needles, don’t let him see the needles.”
“No needles baby,” Mrs. Newcomb said. “Just some to make you feel better. You rest now.”
“Earrings,” she said again, and Indy could tell she was asking.
“He’ll be here to see you soon,” Indy lied, rubbing over her wrap like she would her hair if it was still there.
It didn’t click for Indiana until 7 rolled around, and Jennifer came in with a cup of pills instead of an IV pole.
Radiation and chemo don’t come in pills, Indy knew that much.
Mrs. Newcomb watched the realization come across her face, and she gave her a sympathetic smile.
“She’s… she didn’t get her meds.”
“Indiana baby, it’s what she wants. The new round didn’t work, the stem cells failed. It’s time to let her rest. We’ll keep her comfortable, the doctor says it’ll probably be a few weeks, maybe a month.”
Indy’s throat burned, and her breathing quickened, chest rising much too fast. She couldn’t say goodbye to anyone - it took all her focus to make it out of the building, running down the stairs and across the lobby before she was dry heaving in the bushes, the sight of Bekah’s frail body in her bed appearing every time she closed her eyes.
It wasn’t a conscious decision. More of an instinct, really, that drove her to pull her phone out of her pocket and pull him up and call.
In LA, Grayson’s phone buzzed against his nightstand. A new picture of Indiana popped up - her contact photo that he’d taken one day in Jersey. With a knot in his throat and Eden’s voice in his ears, he reached over and turned it off before rolling away and letting his tears soak into the pillowcase.
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On Love
So as you know I made this uquiz with an open-ended question at the end, tell me something about love, and I’ve gotten the most wonderful responses! They range from descriptions of wonderful partners:
Lauren: oh, how long I went without being myself until I met him and he showed me who I truly was and that my worth was higher than I ever thought was possible
Levi: I love who we are with each other. I love who I am with you. In your company I am me. In your company I am the best of me. The best with the best, I've told you. I wouldn't give you up for anything
Daniel: i fell in love for the first time when i was 17... at the time, i didn’t realize it was the first time, i thought i’d been in love before, a couple times actually, but falling in love at 17 was such a fulfilling experience, it felt so forceful yet so right. it’s when i first truly understood what love was. never before had i felt so understood and so cared for as i did when i was in love with her, and she was in love with me. it’s been nearly 4 years since then, and nearly 3 years since we broke up and stopped talking, and still, i think about her almost every day. i’ve never known anyone like her; to me, she was love itself.
El: oh i’m in love with everyone that i know op!!! especially my girlfriend, of course ,but also my friends and my family and random people on the street and uh
Grace: i’ve met my soulmate and we plan on getting an apartment and marrying after college
A: I’m going to ask the woman I love to marry me and I just wanted to tell someone because I am so excited
Jeremy: you ever have that feeling where basically after years of denying that someone couldnt understand you in a way or love you and then the next thing you know you happen to find that person and its just great from then on out? idk how to explain it anyways I love my boyfriend so much he means the world to me
Lucy: i am so happy i have found the one i love
to descriptions of best friends and favorite people:
Nightbyrd: Love is a hug from an alzheimer's patient who hasn't the foggiest idea who you are, but they know you're worth hugging.
H: I have been doing so much yoga with my roommate recently!! It's a great way to center my mind for an hour
Riv: [platonic] i’ve literally never met anyone who understands me in the way that my best friends do. they’re literally the best people in the whole world and i genuinely don’t know what i’d do without them. i love them with my whole heart
Cillian: when i talk about how much i love my best friend i get so teary eyed because i cant believe that such a genuinely wonderful person wants to speak to me every day - i care for her more than anyone else on this planet
O: my two besties are my sources of happiness and they’re so pretty i would die for them :D
to beautiful quotes:
Kai: "you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on." DARCYYYY PLS MY HEART CANT HANDLW THIS PAIN
Dorian: When the plane went down in San Francisco, I thought of my friend M. He’s obsessed with plane crashes. He memorizes the wrecked metal details, ____the clear cool skies cut by black scars of smoke. Once, while driving, he told me about all the crashes: The one in blue Kentucky, in yellow Iowa. How people go on, and how people don’t. It was almost a year before I learned that his brother was a pilot. I can’t help it, I love the way men love. (accident report in the tall, tall weeds- ada limon, bright dead things)
Adam: every day I think about lemony snicket I will love you if I never see you again I will love you if I see you every Tuesday or however it goes. and it KILLS ME. love only fits in small things
Hero: “Your heart beats in my ribs and mine in yours, and both in God’s… The divine magnet is in you, and my magnet responds.” - Herman Melville to Nathaniel Hawthorne
Mary: "Love is watching someone die."
Alex: "meet me at blue diner, i'll take coffee and talk about nothing baby"
Sparrow: "How dare you love me like you've never known fear?" and "For you, the world," and "Darling, I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades," and "Will you start where I end?"
V: " You want to die for love. You always have. " and "someone will remember us, I say, even in another time" are living rent free in my mind 24/7 and I'm shaking. When will I finally be not the only one falling ?
Sahar K: To love another person is to see the face of god!!!
Miriam: all the love in the world is useless when there is total lack of understanding- kafka
Juls: Don’t you think they are maybe the same? Love and attention
to practices of love:
Leo; i love feeling happy bc somebody that i love is happy and comfortable....like its not about me i just love seeing you smile. we are safe together...idk i just feel it bro
A: I like to think love is leaning on each other during the light or dark days. Its a personal mission of mine to find out who I am and what I want. Yet I never seem to find my place in this world and as I look and look , I realise the only place I can be myself even with or without the efforts to find myself was done on that day or not, I am always tired so shall I lean on you? And you can lean on me as well. I shall be your fig tree and you shall be my favourite willow tree.
L: It's too late at night to be soul searching, but it's a journey we all seem to find ourselves on these days.
Anthi: feeling safe and at home, I guess (also I love frogs)
Julia: ive found that loving someone is like becoming your own thesaurus. you have to find or come up with infinite ways to say, you’re beautiful, or, i love you. it’s a gift
Galexies: ive been writing letters to the person i'd love one day since i was 14. i write them in a little journal usually, but i've been digitizing them into emails and sending them to one account that i'll give to them someday. i'd like to put pictures, but i haven't been outside much recently so theres that. i wonder if they'd like the sunsets i have on file, or if they'd find my cat cute in a bowtie.
Caeles: Love is sharing fruit slices and making someone tea at random
Dundy: Love is sending your friends cursed shit and watching them react in horror
to crushes and potential loves:
Jess: I have a crush on my roommate. It sucks, but it's also wonderful. I get to be around him all the time when we're at school. we share a life together; it's rather domestic. I think a lot about marrying him and being domestic with him forever. It won't happen, and I'll move on eventually, but I'll be happy with him for as long as I can. I hope you feel loved tonight, because you are. Sleep well.
Aki: I so desperately want to believe that love is fake because I’ve seen what happens when loved ones leave but whenever I start to convince myself that I’ll never love anyone my best friend messages me telling me she loves me. She’s the only person I’ve ever pictured having a future with but love scares me and I don’t really know what to do but I think as long as she’s with me in some way, I’ll be fine
Hi: her her i keep thinking abt her.... gonna see her in 8 days or so i really miss her. its ok if shes never gonna love me like i want her to really being her friend spending time with her makes me the happiest girl on earth.... outsold antidepressants
Kit: this guy i have a crush on has hypnotically dark brown eyes and he's wonderful and shows me kindness like no one else
Juno: my crush has all the stars in his eyes
Mads: When I have the courage to meet my eyes with hers, the world stands still
Be Nice To Me: Look bro I never do these but I am yearning to hold them SO badly right now and someone needs to know it besides me
to the trials of love:
Pppppp: I just wanna love like from the movies and what I read about.. but everyone tells me that that’s fictional and rare to find in the real world and it sucks bc it seems like all the guys I’ve met are terrible and the norms of society are all about not respecting women and uthdjdjdk
Manny: I have been in love before and I will be again but I’m not now and I miss it
Ok: I don't think I've ever been in love, though I love many people. I am waiting for the day I look at someone and can say, YES. IT'S YOU.
Chloe: idk rn i'm like okay with my love and i'm happy so we'll see i'm just a little cautious rn bc my last partner told me i didn't know how to love
L: love is so fucking complicated I don't even know where to start
Corrin: He’s not real and it worried me that I will never allow myself to live or be loved because I will always be waiting for him
Sean: Good luck it dont exist
Serena: i want 2 b in love :(( </3
13: I don’t know anymore
M: I just really don’t like dealing with it lol
to beloved characters:
Janaya: I’m madly in love with my comfort and kin character and I hope maybe in the afterlife I can relive a life with him in some sort of dimension
Jhgjdf: when i was a kid i had a crush on ash ketchum from pokemon and id always daydream about being a female pkmn trainer and meeting him and we fall in love
to advice and prose:
Mikolai: Love is earth, gentle and soft at first flight but upon being broken, drowns you in the dry choking wastes of its consequences...
Thex: Your hands will not go cold without someone to hold them. I am here. I will be here.
Kat: it is the nearest proof to god that i find myself surrounded by people who love in a way that complements so wonderfully the way i love
H: believe in love out of spite believe in love to prove everyone wrong believe in love because you were told not to and we will not do what we’re told anymore believe in love because it’s the strongest act of teenage rebellion we have left believe in love because it’s easier not to and when is easy worth doing? believe in love because everything says otherwise but you are untouchable, you are your own, you are not made by their design believe in love because, perhaps, you are love
Ali: I used to want a kind of love that feels like coming home and now I want nothing more than to be away from home on many different adventures
Em: you dont need to love yourself to accept it from others
to the small, the simple, and the sweet:
Ireal: Poems
O: Flowers
Fay: ah im sorry that i’m feeling unmotivated but you are very kind.
Ad: we love LOVE
A: <3
Isak: small things
H: intense
Hey: Listening to a clock ticking away
S: her
E: <3
Hania: Amorous, I adore that word ^^
Catboy: wholesome
J: i love love so much it hurts
Emmy: hi i love the song darkest of discos!! try and give it a listen!! <3
Nora: Love is painful, but most of the time love is great
Ariel: i like the comfort it can bring
M: i love love
to food!
Cool Whip: Matzoh ball soup!!
Woop: I love sausages.... I hope that's ok with you?
and animals too <3
Nee: hmm i have pet geckos and i love them very much!
96: raccoons ????
DJ Big Penis: cats
:3: I Love frogs,,, love is stored in the frog,,,
I hope that this serves as a sweet compilation of what love means! Love to all of you, it warms my heart so much to hear about your people and your geckos and your characters and soup and all the songs and quotes you love. <3 Strength to all of you who are figuring out to do about your feelings for your crush, and congratulations to you who are proposing or moving in with your person! Your words are a source of light to me, truly.
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Scarlet Carnations ~ Part III
BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU
Rating: T
Word Count: 2k
WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm
Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.
Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist
The investigation was still underway a week or so later, still without even a semblance of a lead to go on, or at least not a favourable one. Auntie Purah still had yet to take the Slate into the lab as she’d promised, which was understandable. She was still in deep mourning, after all. I, however, still got up at six o’clock each and every day to make my way to the site, as if the murderer would one day just walk out into the open if I waited long enough.
Truth be told, despite my conscious efforts to suppress it, a part of me deep down was growing weary of one fruitless search after another. Most of the cases I’d led up to this one had been closed within a maximum three days. Admittedly I’d even begun to consider ways to dispose of the fatal evidence I’d been carrying with me since the start of all this. No one but Paya and I knew of its existence, and no one but us would ever have to. Besides, if these egregious felonies truly were the designs of the organization—which they had to be—there was no way I’d ever find any clues leading toward the perpetrator’s true identity, let alone that of their ever elusive boss.
And yet, every morning when I returned to the scene of the crime, with officers bustling about and those who remained of my family sitting quietly in another room, I was reminded of my ultimate purpose. It wasn’t a matter of being able or unable to catch my godmother’s killer. It was one of necessity. Letting them roam the streets as they pleased was not even a part of the equation. I hadn’t spent the better part of the last decade toiling away to reach my current level of authority as a detective investigator simply to throw it all away as soon as my will was tested. That wasn’t what Auntie Impa, nor what Mother, would’ve wanted. I had to uncover the truth, no matter the cost.
What happened next, however, would make my distress up until then seem almost laughable.
I was made aware of it via wire on one muggy afternoon at my office, when I’d decided to work on typewriting up some reports. I picked up the phone only to hear the wails of one distraught Auntie Purah on the other end.
“Zelda, it’s terrible!” she cried. “The Slate—Impa’s Slate—I’ve looked everywhere, and so have Paya and Symin and all the men here on duty, but I—it’s...we can’t—we haven’t...” The poor, old woman was hyperventilating, creating awful static noises through the speaker’s papery membrane.
“Auntie, it’s okay. Calm down,” I urged gently. “Take a few deep breaths.”
“Alright...” A few moments of silence went by before I heard her voice again. “Thank you, dear.”
“Not at all. Now, what were you saying about the Slate?”
“It’s been stolen.”
I froze, breath stagnant and eyes glued to the edge of my desk. “It’s—what?”
“Stolen,” she repeated, only deepening the pit forming in my stomach, from where my heart was now pounding. “Right out from under our noses. We’ve searched high and low for it, but there’s been no sign of it, or the thief.”
I had to reign in my voice before I’d start shouting at her. “H-How can you be sure it was stolen?” The vigilant Link’s eyes now bore into me with intensity from his place by the file cabinets.
“The lock on the safe,” blubbered my auntie, “the one in the study that it’s always kept in. You know the one?”
“Yes?”
“It was broken, and the safe was empty.”
“But...that’s impossible.”
“Precisely!” she cried, giving me a start. “I still haven’t the foggiest how they did it.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
With that, I hung up and prepared for immediate departure, my assistant just a few paces behind me. I had to see this for myself.
Surely enough, when we arrived, the safe’s lock was destroyed beyond repair, and there was nothing but dust to be found inside. Unsurprisingly, the thief had been careful to leave no fingerprints behind, just as the killer had been. For now, though, it was too soon to say for certain that the same individual was behind both crimes.
Upon closer inspection, it seemed the lock mechanism had been melted. My eyes widened. “That’s not something you see every day.” Constable Fyori crouched down beside me, then gave a similar reaction when he noticed the cause of my astonishment.
The thief had to have been someone with access to a welding torch or something along those lines. There certainly weren’t many who fit that description, save for the police. In fact, the whole reason they were issued out to a select few officers was for this very purpose, but situations requiring said officers to break locks such as this one using such extreme methods were few and far between. Nevertheless, the possibility stood.
It was for this reason that I finally gave in and decided to take up the case with the chief detective once we’d finished here. As always, Constable Fyori accompanied me thereto.
Chief Bosphoramus’ office was neither too grand nor too modest, not unlike my own, though it still clearly belonged to someone of high rank. It resided on the third floor of the three-storey building where my dear colleague and I made our livelihoods, boasting a broad view of the deceivingly peaceful streets below.
“It seems UC3680G662LL was the only officer on the scene who was equipped with a cutting torch,” relayed the old man, hunched over the records lain across his desk. “Unfortunately, however, he resigned just yesterday.”
I waited a number of seconds for him to follow up with something useful, but to no avail. “So...what? You’re saying we can’t go question him now? Because he ran away?”
He clasped his fingers together in front of him, looking at me like an elementary school principal. “That is what I am saying, yes.”
I wanted to growl like a bear as imitated by a child, but I held it in. “You do realize what this means, don’t you?” I scoffed. “No doubt he was a member of the organization sent to steal the Slate after killing its owner.”
“Now you listen here, Inspector.” The chief’s tone turned serious. I closed my mouth. “You of all people should know that not a single square inch of this town is safe. Not even this precinct.”
“Yes, but Sir, surely you agree that this entire case has ‘Yiga’ written all over—”
“Are you mad?!”
His thundering voice made Link and I jump. The room fell silent, the chief’s eyes flickering between the door and the open window behind him.
Then he rose from his seat to close the shutters. “Have you some sort of death wish?” he continued at an infinitesimal volume in comparison.
I bit my tongue, restraining the urge to retort with, “Whose fault is that?” for I knew I would only be spinning my wheels. There’d once been a saying in this city: “When one sheep leads the way, all the rest follow.” And Chief Detective Bosphoramus was a perfect reflection of this. Every last member of the force was the same. Weak-willed curs. Shirking from their sworn duties and hiding away behind their shields of specious ignorance.
But despite the virus of cowardice festering throughout the bureau, my partner’s lasting air of calm resignation reminded me that no one could truly blame those affected by it.
The power that the Yiga organization possessed over the town was beyond compare. Those on City Council were nothing more than their puppets, and likewise were the police. Fear and massacre were the whips they raised to drive us all into submission and to punish any and all who had the will remaining to fight. But the one group who’d dared to challenge their might, who’d stood tall ever in the face of their tyranny, had been my godmother’s company. Thanks to her intelligent mind and righteous heart, the people had been given access to technology that would keep them safe, to a degree, from crime, and little by little, the company had developed into a beacon of hope for the town and its inhabitants. Until now.
Now, that hope had been snuffed out, like it had never been anything more than a week and vulnerable candle flame, flickering faint against the darkness of obscurity, in the first place.
Later that evening, when my gaze happened upon the knife block sitting on my kitchen counter at home, my steps halted. The scars on my arms left over from my last couple of years in secondary school—the period in my life following the yet unexplained events that had taken away the one I’d cherished most—had only just begun to fade. Even so...
I shook my head, turning my back to the kitchen. But then, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder once more. I recalled the rush of adrenaline that took hold each time my skin was breached by icy steel. It was true that letting my emotions control me would get me nowhere, but maybe...maybe just this once, I could at least do something to assuage them.
Then the image of the gaping, dark red hole running straight through Auntie Impa’s neck flashed before my eyes. I covered my mouth, quickly swallowing the bile rising up from the bottom of my throat. The idea slipped my mind that very instant.
It wasn’t until the following day’s investigation that a substantial piece of the puzzle finally revealed itself to me.
For it to have taken a whole two days to find wasn’t all that unbelievable. Even I had to admit, although my stepsister was a spineless, tattling suck-up who’d always received far more credit and affection than she was worth, no one could have imagined her ever turning criminal.
Even so, I was certain that what I discovered there in her bedroom went against the expectations of all. Upon my entering, a faint glow of teal and tangerine peaking through the floorboards caught my eye. I went to lift the plank doing such poor work of hiding the thing from sight. There it was, unscratched and in perfect working condition, its screen lighting up and displaying that dastardly riddle I’d been confronted with several days prior and still didn’t know the answer to.
Although the mystery of where it had disappeared to had been solved, its reason for being here of all places was still unclear. Why would Paya have gone to such lengths just to get her hands on the Slate? It was difficult to imagine there being any information contained therein that she would want so direly to be kept secret from the world. She and her grandmother had been close since before I’d become a part of their family as a six-year-old.
Then something hard and marble-sized went flying across the floor when struck by the pointed toe of my shoe. I gave chase, soon realizing what it was when it slowed to a halt just before the south-facing wall of the room:
A bullet.
I didn’t even need to perform a striation comparison; anyone could clearly see that it matched the one I’d pried out of my mother’s memorial shrine. Whatever blood might’ve been here at one point must have simply been wiped up, and she must have stolen Link’s revolver with whatever methods she’d used to steal the Slate. Without a doubt, this room was the true crime scene I’d sought after since day one of the investigation.
But even in the face of this victory, I could hear the voices of those who would oppose me ringing in my ears. “Paya’s the mastermind?” they jeered. “Isn’t that a bit far-fetched?” But at this point, this case had already pushed me far beyond the boundaries of my patience. I didn’t have a single damn left to give about how flawed my logic might or might not have been. All that mattered now was that I had a suspect, and so help me, if I was correct in my line of thinking as suggested by the evidence, this criminal would receive no mercy.
#my writing#fanfic#botw#zelink#botw zelink#zelink botw#link x zelda#zelda x link#botw link x zelda#botw zelda x link#zelink fanfic#zelink fic#zelink ff#zelda pov#detective au
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