#he's carried that picture in his wallet for 15 years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caffeinated-cryptid · 4 years

Text

ashes, ashes.

10.8k | AO3 link | tags/tws: intrulogical, serial killer/deity of death au, lots of death (murder, mentions of a previous suicide attempt, and brief descriptions of animal death), injury, violence, swearing, morally grey characters, crime.

““You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” Logan blurted out with a start, eyes wide and looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“Mamma always told me I was special.” Remus replied with a woozy grin, leaving back against the cool bricks of the alleyway. Seeing things that weren’t there was a new level of fucked-up for his brain, but hopefully that was just a side effect of hitting his head and not something he’d have to take pills for later. Either way, at least this spectre was pretty to look at. Trauma had its benefits.

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” Logan asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.””

(aka: remus chases death like it's his favourite pastime, since it means he gets to see logan again. understandably, logan has some objections to this.)

--------------

Case 1: the man in the alley.

The first time Remus and Logan met, it was more or less a complete accident.

As a part-time warehouse operative slash freelance artist, Remus had a lot of free time between jobs, and one of the things he enjoyed doing most while waiting for his next gig to come around was spray-painting obscene images into the side of alleys.

His latest project was a 7-foot tall purple unicorn with generous proportions. Pretty tasteful by his standards, all things considered.

If nothing else, the piece of work would give passers-by a topic of conversation, and that was always something Remus aimed to inspire with his art. These topics, however, often happened to be the ‘why’ variety. Most commonly, the old classic (and his personal favourite): ‘why are you like this?’.

Regrettably, the evening passed pretty quickly with no curious pedestrians passing by his alley and starting up such a conversation. By the time Remus finished, it was past midnight and by now the only people around were the regular nightlife-- primarily the local college kids who had recently come home and were enjoying their break from classes, and adults like himself who were trying to chase away their loneliness with some other kind of high.

...Woo, and that’s enough depressing thoughts for tonight. Remus declared to himself. After all, he had a new piece to admire! Stepping back, he spent a moment taking in the completed artwork by the light of his phone’s torch before deciding it was as perfect as it could get. He’d come back later and get a picture during the daytime to show off to his friends, so for now he begun preparing to leave by packing his paint cans into his backpack.

It was when he had collected the last can of magenta from the ground that he felt something grab the back of his coat hood. Remus had no time to process the fact that someone had snuck into the alleyway before he was shoved against the same wall he'd painted his mural on, coming face-to-face with a hooded man waving a rather pathetic-looking pocket knife at him.

“Give me your money. Now.” The man demanded.

Remus blinked in delayed surprise. Usually he was the one being the creep in the alleyway. He had never expected to come across an actual creep. Heck, this situation felt like it was pulled straight out of an old PSA with how stereotypical it was.

“What?” He blurted out unthinkingly, because of that exact train of thought.

“You heard me! I want you to get your wallet and hand over everything you’ve got.”

What an unfortunate victim this man has chosen.

“You think I have any money to my name? I’m practically the starving artist every parent warns their kid about becoming.” Remus said with a huff of amusement.

“Don’t try to bullshit me!” The hand clutching the front of his coat tugged him forward before violently slamming him back against the bricks. The back of Remus’ head ricochetted off them roughly with the sudden movement, and the small grin he had been wearing quickly faded with flash of pain and the realization he may actually be in trouble.

“I saw the paint you’ve got in your bag,” The man continued over his dawning concern. “Somebody who’s broke wouldn’t have all that.”

Remus’ thoughts halted for a second. His bag…! He knew the paint can he was holding onto for dear life wouldn’t do much in the way of self-defense given that it was practically empty, but a whole bag of them? Hitting this guy with that much weight would make him think twice about trying to stab him, at least.

“Okay, okay. You got me, I’m rich as hell. Just let me get it, alright? My wallet's in there.”

The man gave him a skeptical look, but stepped back slightly, continuing to hold the weapon in his direction. “I know how to throw knives. Try to run and you’ll have a hole in your back quicker than an onset stroke.”

Yikes, and Remus thought he was bad at metaphors. He didn’t even need Virgil here to tell him that that made no sense. Still, he grinned placatingly. “Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye: I won’t run.”

Finally, bad-metaphor guy let down his guard and allowed Remus to side-step around him. He walked a few paces towards where he dropped his backpack in his initial shock, putting the magenta spray in before he picked it up by the straps. True to his word, he didn't run; instead he swung around on his heel, slamming the full force of his hardback sketchbooks and cans of spray paint into the face of the hooded man.

He instantly dropped his knife, falling backwards and clutching his nose as blood erupted from it. Under the low-lighting of the street lamp, Remus was transfixed for a second, feeling like he was in one of those gritty r-rated movies he watched with his babysitter as a kid. The moment was ruined when he realized that 1) the man was approaching again very quickly, and 2) he couldn’t get the momentum quick enough to swing his bag around and hit him a second time.

Before he knew it, Remus had accidentally let go of the makeshift weapon when he was tackled to the ground, wind completely knocked out of him as the two of them collided against cobblestone moistened with rain.

“You fucking bastard.” The guy hissed furiously. His voice was nasally now that his nose was crooked and broken-looking, and Remus almost wanted to poke fun of him for it until he felt two hands wrap around his throat and start to choke him. “‘Could’ve just made things easy, but now you’re gonna die with all the other trash.”

Why? Remus wanted to ask. Over the 7 dollars and 15 cents he had?

But as he tried to tear away the vice grip on his neck, he couldn’t find the voice to talk back, even though the seriousness of the situation was hitting him like a freight train. Maybe it was his own fault for escalating things instead of playing along. Go figure, he had overestimated his own abilities after years being the off-putting one; the person others thought they had to watch over their shoulder for. Either that, or maybe it was the fact that his wallet carried more sentimental value with it than monetary. It was small and made of orange ducktape, but it carried so many things that Remus wanted to protect; a photo of his family, one of Virgil's guitar picks, the ticket to the last Tenacious D he went to, and of course, the receipt for his first condom purchase.

His mind flashed to his friends and family, and he wondered how they’d feel about this; him dying because of some dumb robber in a dumb alleyway because he was painting his dumb artwork. That was hardly the kind of death one could look back on and regard with pride (Hell if it wasn't funny to imagine how everyone will react to the news, though). But as he focused on the face above him, he realized with some panic that the grip wasn’t loosening, even as he could feel his lungs burn and a near-soothing feeling telling him to just let go.

As a final act of desperation to save himself from becoming a wholly embarrassing funeral eulogy instead of having a rockstar’s death in his 40s like he always imagined for himself, he patted the ground frantically, looking for a loose rock or something to stop this with. That’s when he felt it; the slightly warm plastic handle of the knife the guy had been holding. Remus’ heart pounded as he realized what he needed to do, and he barely even considered the repercussions of the action before he was plunging the knife into the side of the guy’s neck.

Finally, the grip around his throat loosened as the guy gasped, his expression flickering back and forth between anger and shock. Remus ripped the knife away, inhaling air greedily when the sudden action caused the man to loosen his grip and move off of him, trying to cover the stab wound with his hands and failing.

Remus quickly scrambled back and pulled himself up the wall, watching and waiting for the guy to fall still. He did, after what felt like a few minutes, and Remus didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. He’d just killed a man. It was self-defence, but still… even the morbid thoughts he had over the years couldn't have prepared him for what it would have actually felt like to go through with any of it.

In that moment of pause, his injuries caught up with him as both his head and neck begun to ache. He was so disoriented that he barely even noticed the third person standing in the alley until they spoke up.

“Well. I didn’t see that coming.”

Remus snapped his head towards the source of the voice, and immediately regretted it when the hasty motion made him dizzy. The only reason he didn’t immediately jump into fight mode was because of the unusually casual way the voice had spoken. Beyond that, the figure he saw standing a short distance away didn’t really… look like a regular person. Beyond the odd formal clothing that had no discernable modern style to it and the shock of white hair that could only be achieved with hella bleach, his skin was a cool grey like a cadaver and he had a ghostly appearance to him; transparent and misty around the edges.

Definitely not the sort of thing Remus expected to see, but he was always one to accommodate the unexpected.

“...You and me both. My only goal for today was to draw unicorn porn.” Remus replied lightly, once he decided it wouldn't hurt to entertain whatever was currently happening.

The figure turned, startling at the sight of Remus staring directly at him.

“You’re not supposed to be able to see me.” He blurted out with wide eyes, looking at Remus like he had just killed a guy in front of him. Oh wait-

“You think a deity of death is pretty?” The man (deity???) asked wryly, cutting through the stream of subconscious babble he’d accidentally spilled into the frigid night air. “I’d be flattered, if that didn’t sound like such a red flag.”

"I can't believe my own brain is kinkshaming me." Remus whined, slipping down slightly as the worn-down soles of his boots lost their grip on the concrete for a second.

Death frowned, until a metaphorical lightbulb lit over his head. "Ah- you think you're hallucinating. Well, that's not an unfair assumption. Keep believing it, by all means."

"That doesn't sound like something a hallucination would say." Remus pointed out.

"Well then, I'll gladly prove my non-existence by disappearing." Death said as he took a step towards the body.

"Wait!" Remus called before he could figure out why. The ghostly figure stopped, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Remus’ composure slipped as his eyes darted between the body and Death. "I...I need to know that this is real. That I'm not making this up. This feels like something I'd dream, but…"

His hand clenched around the knife, feeling the squelch of blood and the tremor of his hand. Despite the mixed signals he was currently getting on the state of his sanity, it felt solid and real, and Remus wasn’t sure what to make of that.

"Fuck. Please tell me! Am I being as messed up as usual or did I really just kill someone?"

Death’s eyes softened. "You did. This is real."

"Well shit. Okay…" Remus looked back at the body with a deep resignation. He wondered if he should do something about that. Probably not; that would look even more incriminating.

"...If it makes you feel better, he has hurt people in situations like this before, and completely unnecessarily; his only motive was to achieve a rush.”

That did make Remus feel better, actually.

"Good. I’m glad I killed a piece of shit and not someone down on their luck." Remus sighed, eyeing the spectral figure. "Speaking of, if this is real, then I guess that means you are too right?"

Any sympathy on Death's place quickly faded as he was caught out. "Erm-"

"It's cool." Remus leaned his head back again. "Talking to a cute ghost man? Sounds like a typical Thursday night for me."

Actually, this was the furthest thing from a typical Thursday night for Remus, but he didn’t want to admit that to the cute ghost man and risk looking uncool.

"You shouldn't get acquainted with it. Seeing me is hardly a good thing." Death replied, though his cheeks were distinctly a darker grey.

"Aww- don't sell yourself short. I love your work!" Remus waved away vaguely. He always had a strange relationship with death in a way that others didn’t; always the first to laugh at a funeral or smile instead of grieve. That was probably why he felt so comfortable right now. “Besides, we’ll all be food for the dirt and worms eventually, anyway. Why get uncomfortable with it?"

Death met his eyes again, seeming slightly more firm. “Perish those thoughts, it's hardly your time yet."

Remus pouted. "It's still inevitable, though. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy I didn’t die today and got to meet you instead, but what’s so bad about something that’s going to happen either way?”

“I’m starting to think I was right by judging your attitude as a red flag.” Death muttered.

“But I'm right aren't I?” Remus prodded.

“Indeed.” Death begrudgingly conceded. “And do you know just how inevitable it is? Approximately 2 people die per second; 106 per minute. There have been 6435 events of armed conflict in the past year alone, and over 690 million people who are undernourished as we speak. Beyond that, there are even more people losing their lives to case-by-case natural events and incidents. So if you’d be so kind, do not be so eager to create more work for me.”

Remus absorbed that information, tilting his head. “Despite all that, you’re still here?”

“...I am.” Death agreed after a heavy pause, in the same manner most would admit their own defeat. “I’ll admit, I’m not used to… talking so much. It’s an unusual feeling, but it’s been pleasant, I suppose.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus laughed. “That’s gotta be saying something.”

Death rolled his eyes. “My name is Logan, not Death.”

“Huh. I’m Remus.” Remus replied, a little baffled. He didn’t expect a deity to have such a normal name.

“Remus ‘Tsukio’ Kaneshiro, I already know of you. We’ve met before.”

Remus’ bafflement only grew. “We have? I think I’d remember meeting someone like you.”

“You wouldn't; you were unconscious. It was after you overdosed on cold medicine. Thankfully your parents got you to the hospital on time before I could do my job, but I remember it being a close call.” Logan looked at him knowingly.

“...Oh.” Remus laughed nervously. He definitely remembered that. Finding out you could overdose on a lot of common household items was pretty dangerous for him to learn as a teenager, and he’d never forget how furious his entire family was with him for being so reckless. He never knew how to tell them that it wasn’t quite the accident they assumed it to be (needless to say, his adolescent years were pretty shitty to him, being the outsider in this town in more ways than one). Thankfully, the taste of cold medicine had become too repulsive for him to try anything like that again.

“...I am glad you’re alright. It’s always unfortunate when a life ends too soon.”

“Well…thanks. This has been pretty trippy, so I’m glad I met you too, Logan.”

Logan hummed and looked towards the end on the alleyway. “By the way, you should think about leaving soon. There’s a group of people approaching us.”

Shit, Remus had almost forgotten that he had just committed a crime. Given how awful this scene looked, there was a big chance he’d get thrown into jail for this if he got caught. But at the same time, he was almost hesitant to leave behind the spectre that had enchanted his heart within a few minutes, even if his mind was still trying to catch up with the overload of information.

“Why would you help me?” He asked quickly and somewhat suspiciously.

Just as Logan finished his business with the body, he looked at him over his shoulder with an almost sly expression. “You seem interesting, Remus. I’d hate for you to lose your life over someone so unworthy of one.”

And with that, Logan disappeared like a cloud of fog. Remus stood there transfixed, until he remembered Logan’s warnings and snatched up his bag, shoving the knife into his pocket and dashing into the night.

--------------

Case 2: the man who couldn't leave well enough alone.

The next time Remus and Logan met, it was slightly less of an accident, but fuck if the guy didn’t deserve it.

When Remus got home after the night he first saw Logan, he was more grateful than ever that he lived in such a run-down part of town. There were barely any security cameras to look out for, let alone people who were willing to be out during the early hours of the morning.

He was able to slip into his apartment complex unseen, avoiding his early-bird roommate long enough to wash away his crimes in the shower.

After that, he fell into his bed, completely unable to process everything that had just happened. So instead he fell asleep and left the deep thinking to his future self.

As expected, he needed plenty of time to collect his thoughts. First of all, he knew he hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing because after weeks and months of taking it as easy as possible, he hadn’t seen anything else as strange as a personification of death named Logan. Logan...what kind of name even was that? It felt like the name of a teacher, not something that should be as grim and macabre as Remus himself.

But that was the other thing; Remus couldn’t get the thought of Logan out of his head. He was like the angel who had come down to bless him in a moment of weakness, saving him from further misfortune. He knew he had little to no chance of seeing their deity again, but that didn’t stop him from plaguing his mind constantly.

Remus figured the best chance he’d probably get at seeing Logan again was to become involved with death once more. His mind immediately jumped to animals, the easiest targets; he pictured slipping into a farm late at night and slitting the throat of one of the sheep, going to a pet store and buying a hamster for the night before ‘accidentally’ leaving it in a box to suffocate, picking up a stray from the street and snapping its neck quickly. But just as soon as those thoughts came to him, he waved them away with a grimace. He wouldn’t be able to go through with any of that, even for Logan.

People had always talked about him like he was a serial killer in training. They would keep a wary eye when he picked up sharp objects and ask his brother if Remus had ever hurt one of their pets as kids, as if because he had unconventional ideas, he was a complete sadist towards the innocent. (And yes, perhaps he did have thoughts of that nature too, but they’d always fill him with sickness because he fucking loved the pet dogs they had as kids, damn it). In any case, he knew that going through with those ideas would only be proving those people right, that he was a dangerous individual who’d murder an innocent creature just for someone his brain maybe made up.

...Perhaps he was losing his mind after all. What was he doing, plotting out the best way to see Death? If anyone else could hear his thoughts, they’d think him half-mad or suicidal. It seemed like the best thing so do was to try to push this out of his mind, so eventually, that's what he did. He wasn’t so good at that usually; his mouth ran a mile a minute and the people who knew him would often say that his brain-mouth filter was non-existent. But this felt like something he’d like to keep for himself, especially when news of the murder made it onto the local news, presumed to be the outcome of ‘gang activity’ simply because the victim was successful and had a loving family and what else could explain this?

He decided to not think about making plans anymore, and he only thought about Logan when his mind was otherwise unoccupied. It stayed that way until the very next week when he found out about the situation with his roommate’s ex.

Remus didn’t have many people in the world who were willing to put up with him, but the one’s that did, he cherished dearly. So when Nadia, the woman he’d describe as belonging among the Valkyries (if only she could get past her deal of not wanting to hurt a fly), came to him looking uncharacteristically shaken and upset, Remus felt something in him snap.

She told Remus about how her ex-boyfriend was following her to her workplace and making threats on her life. He’d even begun showing up outside their apartment late at night in an attempt at intimidation, and that detail alone pissed him off considering he’d been too in his head to even notice.

“All because I decided I deserved better.” Nadia told him tearily. She was so strong usually, both physically and emotionally, so seeing her so close to crying felt like a punch to the gut. “I just want for him to be gone… But James would probably kill me before I could even file a restraining order.”

“What if he was gone?” Remus blurted out. “Hypothetically.”

Nadia blinked at him, wiping a stray tear. “Honestly? I think the world would be a better place. But that’s never going to happen.”

Remus nodded. “Right. Of course. Do you still have his number, by any chance?”

Remus’ plan was simple: Nadia would call her ex and ask him to come over to ‘reconcile’, and when he did, Remus would confront him. Scare him enough to stay away for good. He was pretty great at being intimidating when he wanted to that the both of them assumed it would work out.

Well, James came as planned. Their apartment complex had one massive security flaw in that anyone could get in without keys or permission, so the only clue Remus got that James was coming was the sound of footsteps bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. Remus stood upright and waited, until he saw the top of James’ head slowly ascending up the stairs, pausing on the second-top step.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” James scoffed disbelievingly as Remus moved in front of him. “Did Nadia seriously send out the guard dog? What? Suddenly too afraid to talk for herself?”

Remus considered barking at him in response, but considering how James was way above the common creep in terms of persistence, he crossed his arms instead and glared steadily.

“Hell yeah she did. You should know why, given how much of a low-life asshole you’ve been acting all week. When are you going to give up the big guy act, huh? Curley called and he wants his complex back.”

James, in all of his 5-foot-no-thoughts glory, only squinted as the insult went over his head.

“...I knew I never fuckin’ liked you. Don’t get involved in our relationship, you little freak.” James tried to pass him, and Remus quickly blocked him, taking out the knife he’d stolen months ago.

“Take another step and this is going in your goddamn eye.” Remus raised his voice, confident that most of their neighbours were already out at work. “You’re not going near Nadia ever again, do you hear me?”

“Or what?! What’ll you do, Kaneshiro? Stab me? Put the toothpick away and step aside, for god’s sake. This is embarrassing, even for you.”

The two of them stood in a standstill, staring each other down as the echo from James’ exclamation faded out.

“...Fine.” Remus said finally. He slipped the knife back into his pocket, and James smirked smugly until Remus grabbed the front of his shirt instead. “It’ll be more fun to do this, anyway.”

With that he shoved James backwards, who quickly lost his footing and fell down the long and narrow flight of stairs. He tumbled for few moments, hitting each step, until he landed on the ground floor with a distant thump.

Remus stared after him, preparing for James to get up and start making a scene like he always did when he didn’t get his way. He didn’t.

Frowning, Remus descended the stairs, and as he drew closer to the slumped-over body, he noticed the puddle of blood around James’ head and the odd way he’d landed.

“Damn.” Remus commented under his breath. “Nadia’s going to kill me.”

He heard a sigh somewhere ahead of him, and fearing someone had walked in on his compromising position, Remus quickly glanced up, excuse at the ready.

“It was an accident-!” He exclaimed, before he realized it was Logan standing there, looking between James and Remus with a pinched expression.

“I know you pushed him, Remus. That’s not exactly what the law would define as an ‘accident’.”

For a second, Remus was starstruck (and opting to ignore the consequences of his actions). “You remember me.”

“Of course I do. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, though.”

That almost sounded like an accusation, so Remus held his hands up defensively. “Hey, in my defence he was just asking to die. The dude's a dick!”

Logan sighed. “Regardless, you shouldn't go around killing people. Sooner or later you’ll get caught.”

“Well, I’m 1 for 1 so far! But if you’d rather me not get in trouble… Have any tips on how to cover this?” Remus joked, winking.

Logan frowned at him before he truly considered it, looking around at the scene thoughtfully. “...Double check to make sure you left no evidence. Move quickly, before anybody stumbles across the scene. And if you have time, plant something which will make this look more like an accident-- for instance, a spill on the stairs.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “I wasn’t expecting actual tips. Holy shit- okay.”

He went over to check the body, feeling his cheeks heat up. He absolutely should not be getting flustered over advice on how to cover up a murder, yet here he was.

“I feel like you shouldn’t be encouraging this.” Remus said jokingly as he smoothed out the creases on the front of James’ shirt. “Didn’t you say something about having more work to do? Who knows, you might be giving me a new hobby.”

Remus laughed. Logan didn’t. When he glanced up, the deity was frowning.

“Perhaps not. Forget what I said; I shouldn’t be interfering in matters like this. I shouldn’t even be appearing to you now.”

“Woah, woah, woah. What’s the matter? I thought you liked talking.” Remus hastily stood upright, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I- regardless of my personal feelings, I have a job to do. I can’t allow myself to become so partial over one human.” Logan replied, rubbing at the crease between his eyebrows.

“Why? What’s the worst that could happen?!” Remus argued.

“You could cheat death, for starters.”

“You already know how I feel about that.” Remus whined. “I’ll off myself when the time comes, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Don’t-” Logan exclaimed, before he reigned himself back in. “Just. No. You’re supposed to go naturally. Neither you or I should interfere with that.”

Remus frowned. He wasn’t so sure he liked the thought of such a boring death. If anything, he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory. Otherwise, he’d be just another body no one would remember-- like loverboy over there.

“That means no more meetings like this.” Logan continued on.

“But what if I want to see you again?” Remus muttered. He looked across the room to Logan and found him wearing a similar downtrodden expression, until it grew serious.

“You’ll just have to deal with that, because we were never supposed to meet in the first place. I have a duty to fulfil and you have a life to live. Our paths are as parallel as can be.”

“This is bullshit, Logan.” Remus said, but he didn’t argue any further. Not when Logan walked around him to complete his business. Not when he prepared to leave, either.

“Don’t do this again.” Logan said finally, giving him a stern glare. “I mean it.”

--------------

Case 3: the woman in the streets.

The next time Remus and Logan met, Logan was starting to think Remus was making a habit of this after all.

In Remus’ defence, he totally wasn’t.

Logan’s parting words just wouldn’t leave his head. It was even worse than last time; the knowledge that he could kill anyone and get to see Logan again plagued him, and he found himself pulling away from his family and friends after the questioning from the police was over and done with.

They were all worried for him, but especially Nadia who knew exactly what he did and assumed it was because of the guilt that he was becoming uncharacteristically withdrawn. Although she was shocked at how things had escalated, she tried to apologize multiple times for letting Remus confront James, which he would always blow off. It wasn’t killing James that had gotten to him, not at all; in fact he was glad that prick was out of their hair. Rather, he grappled with the idea of never seeing Logan again, one of the few people who truly saw the worst sides of him and accepted them nonetheless.

He didn’t deal with it well.

The night of their next meeting, Remus was out drinking alone. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he didn’t want to justify why he wanted to get absolutely wasted to his friends, so being sad and lonely for one night it was.

He had stumbled out of the bar late at night, beginning his unsteady trek home since he had accidentally spent too much money and couldn’t afford an uber to drive him back. Stepping onto the street a couple blocks from his apartment, everything was quiet until the person ahead of him crossed the road, just as a car sped around the corner and knocked them over with an awful crunch.

Remus stood in shock. He looked after the swerving car to get the licence plate, but it was already too late and they had hit the gas upon noticing him. Swearing, he stumbled over to the person left in the road.

“Shit- Are you alright? Of course not, you need an ambulance.” He was struggling to unlock his phone when he noticed how still the person-- a frail old woman-- was. It didn’t even look like she was taking breaths, though it was hard to tell through his swimming vision and the thick coat she was wearing.

With unsteady fingers, Remus pressed against the pulsepoint on her neck, and felt the moment her heartbeat stopped.

“Oh…”

And then he turned on his heel and threw up.

Death wasn’t supposed to bother him like this. He had always been proud of his ability to frighten others with his dismissive attitude towards life’s eventualities. But this was different. He had just watched the murder of a complete stranger right before his eyes, and there wasn't even anything he could do. What the fuck?

He didn’t even feel better when the person he’d been longing to see all night appeared right in front of him, arms crossed and ready to give a lecture.

“Again, Remus?! What did I tell you?! No more murder!” Logan threw his hands up at the sight of Remus next to the body, that was until he noticed the cause of death and Remus’ sickly appearance,

“I-I didn’t do anything this time, I swear. Logan I promised myself I wouldn’t.” He picked himself out of the gutter he had been puking into, trying to look at the deity, just so he could feel some sense of reassurance. “I thought I’d never see you again. ‘Thought I was okay with that, but I’m not. I missed you.”

Logan only stared at Remus when he began crying. He was a sappy emotional drunk when he got through the fun tipsy phase, sue him.

“...I apologize for yelling at you.” Logan said, awkwardly hovering his hand over Remus’ shoulder until it shuddered with a sob and accidentally brushed against him. Remus jolted at the cool touch, as did Logan, who quickly retreated his hand, eyes darting around worriedly.

“‘Always thought you’d be like mist.” Remus slurred, awestruck enough to forget his sadness. He reached forward to prod at Logan, who furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully.

“I… Yes, that’s definitely strange.” Logan cleared his throat and straightened up. “In any case, you need to get off the street, report this incident, and go home. Being around so much death isn’t good for your mental health.”

“Maybe.” Remus sighed. “I quite like hanging around you, though.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re drunk. You’re going to feel a lot worse about seeing me in the morning, I promise.”

“I never feel bad about seeing you.” Remus said, picking up his phone from where he’d dropped it. “I only feel bad that it’ll be a long time before I get the chance to see you again.”

“...I don’t get it.” Logan replied softly after a heavy pause. “You shouldn’t want to see me at all. I’m a bad omen. You’d only ever get to meet me in times of tragedy.”

“‘Bad omen’... And I thought Emo was dramatic.” Remus chuckled weakly. “You’re not so bad, Lo. You guide people to the end. You care for them even when you have so many people to watch over. You’re opinionated and you’re easily curious when things don’t go to plan. You don’t mind when I’m weird and you’re fun to talk to. I like you.”

Logan blinked rapidly with surprise, clutching his chest. “I wish we could be having this conversation away from the recently deceased. But... I suppose I feel the same way. I still don’t know how or why you can see me, but our conversations haven’t been unpleasant.”

“Death likes my company.” Remus said, smiling softly to himself. “...You’re right though. I should probably phone this in. I just wish I could remember the licence plate… Something like XQ... ugh.”

“XQR 460.” Logan supplied helpfully.

“That’s it!” Remus cheered, sloppily kissing Logan on the cheek. “Thanks babe!”

Logan floundered for a second as Remus begun calling an ambulance, struggling to regain composure. “I hope we don’t meet like this again soon. Three times over the span of a year is already too much.”

“I don’t know.” Remus looked at Logan slyly. “I’ve always had pretty bad luck.”

--------------

Case 4: the bad doctor.

The next time Remus and Logan meet, it’s completely coincidental and under less stressful circumstances for once.

Well, still stressful. Just for different reasons.

Roman was in the hospital because of some dumb motorcycle crash he got into, which near-gave Remus a heart attack when he heard about because he may often ask for death these days, but not like this. Never like this.

Anyway, he was more or less alive in the end. Just a broken leg and a lot of scrapes and bruises since he always refused to wear the proper protective clothing when he went riding (due to it ‘not fitting his aesthetic', apparently. Remus assumed it was pussy talk for ‘I don’t look badass enough to pull off leather’).

Remus had stopped by to visit, bringing some of the fancy name-brand crackers Roman liked since he kept complaining about how stale and awful the hospital’s ones were, and to say hello to Virgil while xe was on shift. The three of them even managed to sit down while Virgil was on break and catch up, too. Roman and Virgil seemed glad Remus was doing a bit better after his downward spiral a couple of weeks ago, even if they didn’t mention it.

After a few hours spent catching up and teasing one another, he decided to leave Roman to get some rest. His plans for that evening were to take a load off and perhaps call for some takeout with Nadia. Honest to God, he didn’t plan on looking for any trouble.

But still, trouble found him when he noticed Logan walking the halls of the hospital, following a doctor to the elevator.

Remus double-taked. Though he shouldn’t really be surprised to see Logan here in a place with so much death, it was still odd witnessing the cloaked figure walk around normal people, none of them noticing his presence.

Remus quickly jogged over. "Logan!" He hissed under his breath.

The deity startled (startled!) before turning to him, just like the doctor he was following.

"Do you need something?" The doctor said, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhhhh, nope! Just… getting into the elevator." Remus replied, stepping in and standing next to Logan.

"Why must you have such awful timing?" Logan sighed stressfully as the elevator doors slid shut. Remus looked at him, unable to verbally reply with the doctor standing right next to them. Fortunately, his unspoken request to elaborate was picked up on.

"This doctor is going down go the morgue. I was here to see a patient that died under his care, and I noticed how death seemed to latch onto him. I got curious."

Sounds like a bad doctor, if even a deity of death was interested in him. Heh, that probably said a lot about Remus too.

Logan elaborated for Remus’ misinterpreting amused expression. "Remus, he murders patients purposefully. You should not have gotten on this elevator."

...Oh. Remus looked past Logan to the doctor, who had noticed his glances.

"...Hm, aren't you supposed to be in your room? Broken leg, road burn, lacerations?" He questioned, eyes flicking down to where he assumed Remus must be injured.

"Nope! You’re thinking of my twin. I came to visit him today." Remus responded as chipper as he could manage, suddenly a lot more unnerved knowing that this apparently dangerous doctor knew about his brother.

"Ah! I see. I did wonder how you managed to grow a full moustache in a day." The man chuckled. "Twins… quite fascinating."

Uh oh spaghetti-os. "Yeah… people say we're like two unrelated people, we’re so different." Remus laughed dismissively. It didn't seem to bother the doctor.

"Interesting… Say, a partner of mine is conducting a study on the differences in the individual psychologies of monozygotic twins. I'm sure it would please her to get more data, if you'd be interested in participating. There would be monetary compensation for your time, of course."

"This is such an unethical form of recruitment. What kind of professional are you?" Logan argued in frustration. Remus almost burst into laughter on the spot from the bizarreness of the situation, but he somehow managed to turn it into an agreeable grin instead.

"Sounds good, doc." Remus said.

"What-?!" Logan exclaimed. Remus spared him a glance, hoping it would let him know he knew what he was doing. Logan didn't look placated in the slightest.

"Excellent! I'll pass the details onto your brother and we can arrange a meeting sometime this week.”

At that moment, the elevator stopped to let a few other people on. Remus took the opportunity to head out before they could reach the basement floor.

“See you later!” He called to both the Doctor and Logan.

“REMUS!”

--------------

Case 4.5: the dead doctor.

The next time they meet, Remus fully expects it.

Roman asks him over text why he volunteered them for a study, and Remus makes some vague excuse like ‘sexy doctor’. Thankfully, he bought it.

Before the date sent to them by the doctor, Remus decided to do his own research first. To do so, he contacted Virgil and asked for details on the man.

After copious amount of friendly jabs (like 'oooh Remus, I didn’t know tall, straight, and boring was your type'), Virgil told him his name and not much else, given that xe wasn't exactly close with the older staff member. That was fine; Remus used the information to find online profiles, where he found contact details and photos, where he found business accounts, where he found history.

After pulling a few more strings from people that owed him one, he managed to gain access to the vital records from the hospital. It didn’t take long to discover that Logan was right, there had been a spike in deaths since the doctor, a mister 'Stacey’, had begun working there. It was a mystery how no one had noticed the pattern honestly. Weren't doctors supposed to get their licences taken away after a certain number of incidents? As he begun looking through the files more closely however, he realized that the deaths were often chalked up to accidents; small things that could have been due to anything, from mistakes during operations, to the patients overdosing on their prescribed medication, to incidents days after they’ve been discharged.

As Remus closed his laptop, he begun feeling very glad he had impulsively accepted Stacey’s offer.

The meeting ended up being scheduled for Friday evening, and by the time it rolled around, Remus was fully prepared and waiting outside of the agreed location. He dialled Roman’s number, looking out to the empty parking lot and familiarizing himself with the location.

After a few rings, Roman picked up, sounding slightly agitated. “Yes, Captain Dookey?”

Remus snickered at the old nickname-- it was practically a relic from when they played pirates as children. Perhaps Roman was feeling sentimental after his accident.

“Aye aye first mate. You should know that I’m not gonna make it to the study. I already called Dr. Stacy to let him know we’re cancelling for today, so you can stay home.”

“Really Remus? I just got ready.”

“Yeah well, you’re supposed to be resting anyway. Unless you want to drop a visit by yourself that is, but Virgil told me he’s straight, soooo...”

He heard a retching sound on the other end of the line.

“No thanks.” A sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

“Bye, ugly.”

“Later, Rat Bastard.”

“Rats are cute, that’s not an insult. Byeee~.” Remus quickly hung up, his grin quickly fading as he took in the apartment complex.

It didn’t look like the sort of space that would house an office, but Stacey didn’t look like the type to break the Hippocratic oath either, so perhaps the world wasn’t as straight-forward as it seemed.

Slipping his phone away, Remus buzzed the number he’d been given, and it wasn’t long before the good doctor himself came down to answer the door personally.

“Remus.” Stacey almost looked surprised to see him. “Is your brother not coming?”

“Oh, no.” Remus waved a hand. “I just got off the phone with him and he told me he’s running late. He said to get started without him.”

He received a charming smile. “That works just fine. Come on in.”

Stacey led him up the stairs to his apartment, and the whole time Remus felt the weight of the kitchen knife in his pocket. When they got to the ‘office’ (which was really just a living room with minimal furnishing), he offered him a drink.

“No thanks, I’m good.” Remus said, looking around. “...Seems pretty empty in here for an office.”

“Ah… Yes, unfortunately my colleague is having renovations done in her usual space, so we’ll have to collect our data here. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

A fair enough explanation on the surface, and one his brother would probably accept if he was here, but Remus wasn’t nearly as trusting as Roman was. Nor was he as ignorant to the true purpose of this meeting.

“I see… That makes sense. Or at least it would, if I didn’t already know all about your dirty little secrets.”

Stacey glanced up from where he’d been looking for a pen. “...Pardon?”

Remus smiled back; a grin with all teeth. “You have quite a few skeletons in your closet, doc. Even for a fine medical professional like yourself.”

The doctor very carefully didn’t react to that. "My apologies, do you have the right person? To the best of my knowledge we've only spoken once."

"Yeah." Remus agreed. "And once is all it took. I found out about all those little accidents that follow you, doctor. Weird how many times your patients pass away from nicked veins and potassium chloride overdoses, hm?"

The only outward response Stacey gave was the clenching of his fists. Subtle, but Remus noticed it. "Be careful Mr. Kaneshiro, because that sounds an awfully lot like a baseless accusation. People sue for that, you know."

"I don't doubt it. But you already know it's not so baseless, don't you? You know exactly what I’m talking about, which is why you invited us here to a shady apartment late at night, no colleague in sight."

"Remus what the hell do you think you're doing?!" A familiar voice chimed from behind him.

Remus startled out of his focus, whipping his head around. "Logan?"

"Don't look at me, you ignoramus-! You met a serial killer alone after I told you to stay away?!"

"He knows my brother, I couldn't just-!"

Remus looked back at the doctor was closer now, looking down at him pitifully. "I see now. The talking to air, the erratic behaviour, the pushing your delusions onto others… you mustn't be well. It's alright, Mr. Kaneshiro, I could easily refer you to a mental health facility who will take care of you."

"Remus, you have to get out! Now!"

"I know!" He wasn’t a complete idiot, damn it! But he needed to get Stacey to confess or-

"Ah, perfect! If you wait here, I’ll go and make a call."

Remus stepped backwards, hand going to the knife in his pocket. He needed Stacey to confess, but if he didn’t-

Unfortunately, Stacey noticed his movement and quickly grabbed his left wrist, putting way too much pressure in his grip than was necessary.

"Ah-ah. I told you to stay put, didn't I? Come now, don't be difficult. I'm only trying to get you the help you need."

If he didnt-

"Let go of him!" Logan demanded to the man who couldn't hear him.

Stacey froze, feeling the cool touch of Death on his arm as Logan tried to pull him away, and at that moment Remus pulled his knife out and stabbed him in the chest; slipping the blade right between the ribs.

Red pooled around the knife, staining his crisp white shirt vividly. Stacey stared at the knife, and dug his nails into Remus’ wrist.

"Fucker." Remus yelped with pain, pulling the weapon back out.

Finally, Stacey let go and stumbled back, hitting the wall and sliding down to the floor. His expression didn't recover from the shock from when Logan touched him; he didn't even try to apply pressure to the wound as he bled out. He just sat there until the light left his eyes, and the only sound left in the room was Remus’ laboured breathing.

"I… shouldn't have done that." Logan muttered, eyeing the limp body.

"Done what? I'm the one that killed him. That was my backup plan all along." Remus replied numbly, looking at the scene he had caused.

"I gave him the touch of Death, it's- it's an omen. I'm not supposed to use it ever."

"Gee, I'm flattered. I promise murder was always on my brain though." Remus said as he took the tape recorder out of his pocket. No need for this anymore. He wanted to get a clip of Stacey saying something incriminating so that he could defame him and ruin his reputation, but well, him not being able to benefit from a reputation at all was the next best thing.

Logan watched him, taking in the claw marks across his wrist. "...Right. He scratched you, so remember to clean under his nails."

Despite everything, Remus smiled softly at the advice. "Aww, you really care about me, don't you?"

"I- no. Absolutely not. That’s absurd" Remus snickered as Logan flushed an adorable shade of paynes grey, which he hid by going to deal with the corrupt doctor’s soul.

"...Why did you show up, by the way? There isn't anyone dead in this apartment is there?" Remus realized belatedly, looking around the empty space.

"Ah… No. Admittedly, I've been keeping a closer eye on this town than I really should, and after what happened the other day, I figured I needed to be here when I noticed you two meeting… I probably shouldn’t have.” Logan conceded.

"Well, at least you can't say this wasn't a business visit." Remus giggled to himself, wiping the blood from his knife with a tissue. Maybe he was a little giddy from the endorphins of confronting a prolific serial killer, or perhaps it was the confirmation that Logan cared for him, but either way he felt really good right now, like he could take on the world.

Logan looked at him and sighed. "I should've known you'd be trouble. No more killing, Remus. This has to be the last time."

"Of course, pinky promise~."

"...I can see you crossing your fingers behind your back, you brat."

--------------

Case 5: the one who tried to get away.

The next time they met, Remus broke his pinky promise. No surprises there.

It was hardly even a promise to begin with, but for some reason Logan expected him to stick to it. Quite foolish, if you ask Remus, given that he now had a total of three murders under his belt, and stopping there almost felt like giving up.

Of course, he had to lay low after Stacey however. The hospital was holding a memorial for his death and Remus later found out that it was ruled a break in. (Made sense, since Remus took a few of his fancy cleaning products on the way out, as a treat to himself.)

It was a shame Stacey was being remembered so honourably, but he couldn't really do anything about that. At least he wasn't out in the world hurting more people.

But unfortunately for Remus, the ruling of Stacey’s murder didn’t stop the incident from trickling into his normal life, as Virgil and Roman seemed to grow suspicious of him. Virgil didn't bring up the topic to him directly, but xe begun acting sketchy when the two of them hung out (Though that could easily be wariness after having one of xyr co-workers be killed). Oppositely, Roman brought the topic up at the first chance possible.

"Dr. Stacey was murdered the night we were supposed to meet him." Roman commented the next day they were able to have lunch together, arms crossed confrontationally. "Funny that."

"Yeah. Sounds like we had some pretty good luck, if you ask me." Remus grinned.

"Wha- why are you smiling?! A man died!" His twin hissed at him. Under his breath, as to not alert the other tables.

Remus’ grin faded. "Listen Ro-bro, I didn't want to tell you this but our good doctor wasn't as kind as you think he is. I called you off that night to help you. Trust me. It’s better off that neither of us went through with that ‘study’."

Roman leaned back, looking unconvinced. "What were you doing instead, Remus?"

"...Huh?"

"You heard me. Where were you? What's your alibi?"

"You're not accusing your own flesh and blood of murder, are you?" Remus sipped his drink casually; ice coffee with as many pumps of peppermint syrup as the barista would allow.

"Just answer the question." Siiigh, what a tightass. How did they come out the same womb?

"I was meeting an old friend, for your information. Logan." Remus smiled to himself at the inside joke.

"Logan? You've never mentioned a Logan before." Roman raised his eyebrows.

Remus leaned back in his chair with a shrug, opting to look out the window instead. By doing so he missed the flash of complicated emotions that crossed his twin’s face at the dismissive gesture.

"I don't tell you everything about my life, brother dearest."

"Clearly…"

A week or two passed since his conversation with Roman, and during that time Remus didn't get to see Logan again once. That wasn't such a terrible thing, most people would assume, to not run into a deity of death, but Remus was so bored! He wanted to see his favourite death pal again, but no opportunities arose to do that, and nothing was striking his murder-fancy.

That was until the day he saw a familiar licence plate parked outside a shop.

Remus froze in his tracks, remembering the night he last saw that car.

A woman crossing the street, a body too still, a car speeding away with no remorse-

Remus had given the licence number to the police, but clearly they hadn't done anything about it. Or perhaps they'd tried and the asshole bought them off.

He growled at the idea, startling a passer-by who was crossing around him.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long before he found out who his ire belonged to. A familiar face left the shops and begun walking towards the car; Anton, a guy who had been a year above him back in high school. Remus’ memory of the man was vague; primarily made up of snapshots of cruelty and entitlement towards those around him.

He looked exactly the same, with his annoyingly polished appearance and ugly overpriced clothes. So he was right about the police being paid off, then. Typical.

He'd just have to do something about this himself.

“I suppose there’s no point in trying to convince you to stop this, is there?”

“I mean.” Remus begun, looking down at the body he had just finished suffocating and rubbing at his bruised arms. There was more of a struggle than tv had led him to believe. “I kinda had to do this one. What? Was I supposed to connect the dots on a murder and not stalk and kill the guy who got away unpunished?”

“Most people would say yes.” Logan groaned, in the sort of tone that said he already knew he was fighting a losing battle.

“We’re not like most people though, are we?” Remus grinned, fluttering his eyelashes.

“You’re most certainly not. I’m barely a person.” Logan replied with finality.

--------------

Case 6: the one who pushed their luck.

And then shortly after;

“Come on man, don’t do this.” The masked person pleaded, hanging onto the fire-escape for dear life. Literally.

Remus raised an eyebrow, making a show of contemplating the request. “Hmm, I don’t know. You did try to pull a gun on me.”

“It wasn’t loaded, jackass!”

Remus tutted and held his foot over the person’s clammy hands. They shook violently at the unspoken threat. “And now you’re gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood too? No consideration!”

His joking tone must have angered them, because they began struggling to hoist themself back up again, red in the face with strain. “I swear, when I get up there-”

Promptly losing his interest in hearing the rest of that threat, Remus stood on their fingers, causing them to let go of the fire-escape and plummet to the street below with a strangled yell.

“Whoopsie daisy.”

He leaned over the banister, whistling innocently as a familiar presence appeared next to him. Logan joined him in peering down at the body, eyebrow raised.

“At least this one was merely an accident?” He guessed by the cause of death, a twinge of hope in his voice.

“Nah, they’ve tried breaking in at least 3 times this year. It was getting annoying.”

As Logan scolded him for his recklessness, Remus decided not to comment on it when their topic of conversation turned back towards the casual banter they usually shared. The two of them stood on the fire escape until the sun was on the edge of the horizon and Remus had to dash back to his apartment to avoid being seen by the early-commuters.

--------------

Case 8: the innocent.

And then:

Remus curiously nudged the raccoon with the tip of his boot. He’d just stumbled upon it and it still looked fresh; given that he was standing by a busy road, it was no wonder what had happened.

He was making a mental note to come back and collect the bones at a later date, when Logan appeared in-front of him in a blink, looking completely unsurprised this time around.

Remus on the other hand startled before regaining his bearings and shooting the deity a smile. “Our paths are looking less parallel by the day huh, Psychopomp-ous?”

Logan raised his eyebrows appreciatively at the word play. “It appears so. It’s quite the pleasant surprise to find you not getting into trouble for once.”

“There’s always tomorrow.” Remus wiggled his eyebrows back. “That said, I really didn’t expect to see you. I was wondering for a while if you dealt with this kind of thing too, y’know.”

Logan looked down, seeming to really notice the raccoon for the first time. He nodded after a beat. ”She had a life too. My brother brought her into the world, and so I must escort her out.”

”Yeah? Anything of note happen?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity. He’d file away the latter half of Logan’s statement for later prodding.

”...She had a family. They stayed together under the porch of an old couple.”

“Ah, to be a racoon living under a porch.” Remus lamented dreamily. “I’m glad she got to live such a rich and fulfilling life before becoming road kill. I’m truly jealous.”

“In the wild, your lifespan would most likely be around 2–3 years as a raccoon.” Logan pointed out, attempting to contradict his idealistic tone.

“Exactly. The life.”

That earned a pinched expression from Logan that made Remus titter.

“Just messing with you, prim reaper~. Now, do you have any idea how long it’s going to take for her to decompose? I have a new piece of decor to make.”

--------------

Case 11: the matchbox.

Remus watched from afar as the house on Psyche Avenue burned. It was bright and brilliant, so of course the firefighters were already on the scene, trying to calm the fire and save the occupant inside.

They’d be much too late; the trafficker was already unconscious and likely burning to death, along with any evidence Remus might have left behind. It was the perfect crime.

Satisfied with today’s work, he took a drag of a cigarette, delighted when Logan appeared beside him instead of with the dirtbag who deserved to burn forever (and since it was a mystery whether he'd end up with such a fate, it only seemed fitting for Remus to play god and speed up the process.)

“Those kill, you know.” Logan said in greeting.

“That makes two of us.” Remus grinned sharply, even when Logan rolled his eyes and pinched out the end of his cigarette.

For the second time in a month, the two of them overlooked the sky together, illuminated by the amber blazes of the fire. It almost felt like a date.

--------------

Case 13: the one with bad luck.

He was back in the alley that had imprinted itself so clearly in his memory, knife buried in the chest of a would-be assailant. Remus was boredly watching the blood seep between the bricks when Logan finally appeared to deal with the body.

“You’re late!” Remus complained with a whine. “This guy’s practically cold already.”

“Apologies. There was a flash flood across the country, and it took more of my focus to handle than I would've liked."

Remus hummed. He thought he heard something about that on the news. Mother nature could be cruel indeed. Perhaps even worse than Remus himself.

“Anyone nearby?” He checked.

“Not in a half-mile radius, no. However, the police may be on their way.”

“Plenty of time, then.” Remus said as he pulled Logan down to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It had been months since that first drunk sloppy kiss happened, and less time since it had become a regular greeting. Remus would never get tired of the feeling of cold skin against his lips. It was like kissing marble-- if marble had a sassy mouth and a sexy amount of knowledge.

Logan pulled back first, smudging away the trail of blood running from Remus' nostril. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Nah, you should see the other guy.”

That earned a laugh-- a quiet chime that made Remus’ heart flutter. “I see them. Good job, you’re getting rather skilled at that.”

“Why, thank you~.” Remus preened under the praise. “It only took a couple tries, but I think I finally got the technique down pat.”

“Hmm. Speaking of 'Pat', my brother doesn’t seem to like this much. He’s not unappreciative of your choices in target, although he appears to be rather disapproving on the amount of times I've been called to your side."

Logan didn't talk about his brother much: the deity of life. From what little Remus had learned from his prying and Logan’s own complaints, he seemed like a bit of a killjoy. He blew a raspberry in response.

"Tell Patton to stop making so many criminals and maybe I'll consider it."

The corner of Logan's lips quirked up. "I don't think I will, as humorous as I'm sure that would be. It doesn't quite work like that."

Remus shrugged, watching as Logan looked off to the side.

"...It seems I’m needed elsewhere."

”You can’t stay? We barely got to talk.” Remus said with a pout.

“Unfortunately so.” Logan turned to the body; what he should have been there for. It wasn’t long before his focus was back on Remus, though. “That said... It’s a busy night. Perhaps we’ll meet again sooner than expected.”

Remus’ frown tipped back into a smile as he watched Logan vanish. He then turned on his heel and retrieved his knife before walking off into the night. If he was going to make good on Logan’s expectations, he better get to work.

--------------

Case 0: the one who death followed.

It soon became an established pattern; Remus would come across someone shady, and he’d put together a detailed- or straight-forward- plot on how to get rid of them. By now his city must have noticed the string of deaths, but with such a random means and very little evidence, Remus was free to continue as he pleased.

In a sense, he was untouchable with Logan by his side, pointing out anything he left behind and giving warning for any potential witnesses. Especially when he gave up on persuading Remus away from this path. It's not like the moral argument could be made anymore; the city had seen a drastic decrease in crime once Remus had taken out a lot of big players (even if there was an air of fear that lingered in the back of everyone's minds, wondering if they'd be next up on the chopping block).

All in all, it was enough to make Remus cocky; perhaps even enough so to lead to his downfall. But how was he ever going to give up now? All his life he’d been hoping for some sort of excitement to fulfil him, and he finally found it in a surprise meeting with a deity of death. Death had gone from a distant longing to something familiar and welcome; something he could use to right wrongs and feel a sense of purpose with.

And as long as he was able to exchange a life for one more meeting with his beloved partner in crime, he would do his best to stay ahead of the game.

(No matter who was out there, trying to stop the two of them.)

--------------

Writing taglist: @just-perhaps @sashootkahoot @anxious-l0ser @illogical-immunity @overlad-of-the-snakes @varthandi @whisperinginthevoid @and-this-sword @creamiiteaa-xx

Deityfucker au taglist: @arodynamic-enby @its-the-usda-certified-trashman @overlad-of-the-snakes @aromanticwhore @haha-phrog @hetalianhufflepuff @emeryyleaf @winter-wandering @gaylotusthatexists @8bituin

#my writing #sanders sides #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #(others are mentioned)#deityfucker au #death tw #violence tw #crime tw #weapon tw #swearing tw #injury tw #(lots of warnings for this one. take care!)

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woulddieforperrytheplatypus · 4 years

Note

What're some of your favorite moments between Doof and Perry during Phineas and Ferb?

youtube

You have absolutely no idea how fucking long I spent making this video fhdsjahkjaf I’m gonna gush under the cut about why I liked each one so y’all don’t have to deal with me if you don’t want to lol

These are in no particular order. They’re just numbered to line up with the reasoning. I added lil descriptions to each of them but you’ll probably have to either watch the video first or have a pretty good memory of the show to understand them lol

1. “Dr. Wexler, you’re a platypus?” (A Hard Day’s Knight)

Literally just the way he says, “Dr. Wexler, you’re a platypus?”

2. “Is every platypus named Perry?” and then Perry bites him (AT2D)

M O N C H (also Heinz calls him cute) (also also “We do not bite the elderly!”)

3. Perry tries to fly him and Heinz home from the desert but Heinz flips the turbo switch and they lose the jetpack (Road to Danville)

“Like you didn’t know about my switch-flipping compulsion!” They’re literally an old married couple omfg I can’t even (also moment of appreciation for the fact that they’re close enough that Heinz just assumes Perry knows about his switch-flipping compulsion) (another moment of appreciation because Perry probably does)

4. The end of the Perry/Doof subplot of Terrifying Tri-State Trilogy of Terror

First of all, the way Perry decides to run under his giant floating head when going around would take two extra seconds? Beautiful. And, of course, Perry’s fucking smirk because that’s just not his problem lmaooo

5. The pause in the FIGHT FIGHT IT’S A PLATYPUS FIGHT (Doofapus)

I love that they literally just stop mid-fight to have tea. I firmly believe there is no other pair of nemeses that would do that and this is just how Heinz and Perry work. Also, Perry’s smile? He feels so understood? It’s so pure?

6. Vanessa lets Perry in before he can break down the door with his rocket launcher and then Perry accidentally shoots it through the wall (My Sweet Ride)

“This is why I can never have anything nice -_-”

7. Heinz doesn’t trap Perry (Road to Danville)

He’s so confused fjdahfksdhfak he literally goes out of his way to get trapped at that point (even if he pretends he doesn’t) and Heinz flipped the script on him without telling him and his lil shrug is so cute and I just jsfhkjadhsk

8. There’s a Platypus Controlling Me (Brain Drain)

You had to know this one was gonna be there

9. “In your letters, you said your nemesis was a suave, semi-aquatic personification of unstoppable dynamic fury” (Oil on Candace)

The fact that Heinz sent his ex-professor a letter gushing about his nemesis is just *chef’s kiss*

10. Perry and Dennis are fighting in giant puppets in the street and Heinz recognizes Perry piloting the puppet because of his fighting style (The Return of the Rogue Rabbit)

I’m pretty sure this is the only time Heinz ever recognizes Perry without his hat on (correct me if I’m wrong tho) and the fact that it’s literally just because Perry punched the fuckin camera kills me every time

11. Heinz is worried they won’t make his play in time so Perry tells him to flip the turbo switch (Road to Danville)

Perry just trusts him so much??? Flipping the switch was what got them into that mess in the first place??? But Perry cares so much about Heinz making his LOVEMUFFIN play that he’s willing to give it another go??? I love it???

12. DANCE BABY DANCE BABY HANDS IN THE AIR (Candace Disconnected)

I feel like we don’t get to see Perry just kinda hanging out like that a lot. He’s always doing that steely glare, even when they’re having fun. I don’t think Perry really realizes how emotionless he can look sometimes (the beginning and end of Sidetracked are from Perry’s POV especially at the end, the way he acts with the boys shows too much character for a secret agent, so even though he seems to think it’s obvious that he’s all lovey dovey with them, he does much too good a job at hiding his emotions) but it’s nice to see him drop the facade every now and then

13. Heinz calls Monogram because Perry hasn’t shown up (Perry the Actorpus)

I know Perry’s not technically in this one but I love that Heinz a) calls OWCA when Perry doesn’t show up and b) looks so nervous as he calls OWCA because Perry hasn’t shown up

14. Perry brings Heinz a glass of water (Road to Danville)

Half this episode is just them being mad at each other because they blame the other one for sticking them in the desert with way home, and I love that even though Perry’s been fuming pretty much the entire time, the second Heinz actually starts yelling at him, he’s immediately hit with a wave of guilt (also I love that he somehow found a glass of water in the middle of the desert?)

15. “YOU PEED ON MY COUCH!” (AT2D)

Not gonna lie, I mostly picked this one for shits and giggles BUT that doesn’t mean I can’t overanalyze it because that’s what I do best. Perry’s whole role in the show is to tie together the two completely unrelated plots, and that’s only so entertaining because not only does neither side know the other, but neither side knows what version of Perry the other side knows. This is the first time Heinz has really connected mindless pet Perry with Agent P Perry, and I feel like that was the most interesting part of the movie was that Phineas, Ferb, Candace, and Heinz all saw a side of Perry they didn’t know.

16. Heinz invites Perry out for lunch (The Quietest Day Ever)

Heinz doesn’t even know he got hit with the de-handsome-inator. He literally just thinks he lost, and his immediate reaction is to ask if Perry wants to hang out. I just love those lil insights into their relationship when they’re not fighting. Also, perry.exe has stopped working.

17. Honestly just all of Father’s Day

I hate knowing that chronologically, Father’s Day had to happen probably less than halfway through the summer and not towards the end like it does in the episode order. It’s such a sweet turning point in their relationship. Perry’s head all these horrible backstories about Mr. Doofenshmirtz and I can only assume he hates the guy, but he’s still so supportive of Heinz trying to win his approval -- and he’s supportive when that fails and Heinz needs someone to lean on.

18. Perry Lays An Egg

T H W A R T M E P E R R Y T H E P L A T Y P U S

19. Heinz proving he knows how to shut the fuck up by refusing to shut the fuck up (Road to Danville)

Perry’s literally about to fight a bitch and I can’t blame him. I also like the lil look into Heinz’s thoughts with the “it’s not like I have to fill the space” line because it really explains a lot about him.

20. Perry waiting for the New Year’s ball to drop and for Heinz to finish his scheme (Happy New Year!)

Once again, a beautiful look at how their entire relationship is based on their routine and knowing what to expect. It wouldn’t be Heinz and Perry if there was not punching and kicking involved. (Also, Perry’s smug face while he waits) (Also also, Perry’s lil shrug)

21. Heinz invites Perry to hang out in his house in the suburbs (Put That Putter Away)

GIVE PERRY A DAY OFF (but for real I love that Heinz literally just asked if he wanted to hang out, AND that he assured Perry that he’d make sure he didn’t get in trouble with Monogram for it)

22. The end of Sidetracked

THEY? HOLD? HAND???

23. “The thing that’s kept me from succeeding all these years is YOU!” *turns finger around* (Road to Danville)

PERRY IS SO DONE WITH HIS SHlT I CAN’T FDJAFHDJLSFHDSAKJ

24. Roger tries to say hi to sleeping Perry (Just Our Luck)

How often does Perry have to fall asleep around Heinz for the guy to know he gets testy when someone wakes him up?

25. The brief New Year’s dance break (Happy New Year!)

THEIR DANCING IS SO FAST AND SO IN SYNC EITHER THEY REHEARSED THIS OR THEY JUST KNOW EACH OTHER SO WELL THAT IT JUST HAPPENS NATURALLY AND I WOULD DIE FOR THEM OKAY

26. Perry accidentally became famous for advertising tools and then shows up at DEI (Perry the Actorpus)

He’s so happy to see his nemesis again :,)

27. “You think I’m evil, right?” *finger guns* (Oil on Candace)

Perry is at least partially responsible for how horribly that day went, but that’s his job is to make sure evil scientists don’t impress other evil scientists. You don’t want, like, an evil scientist team up or whatever. But I’m decently sure there’s nothing in the job description that says Perry has to stick around and assure his nemesis that he’s good at being evil, so that’s all Perry’s doing.

28. Perry pulled an all nighter and shows up at DEI asleep and Heinz has to try not to wake him up (Just Our Luck)

The amount of respect it takes for Heinz to see his nemesis sleeping on the job and go out of his way not to wake him up (but to make sure he’s still included, of course; he’s not a disrespectful guy, even if he is evil) warms my heart

29. Perry shows Heinz a bunch of their pictures together (This Is Your Backstory)

a) I love that Perry carries those pictures in his wallet

b) I love that those pictures exist at all

c) I love that Heinz has enjoyed his nemesisship with Perry so much that it basically negates every tragic backstory

#phineas and ferb #pnf #perry the platypus #heinz doofenshmirtz #look i have an ask #i have to save these as drafts to add tags on pc #and it's trying to tell me that this post was made in the app so I can't edit the ''post body content'' so let's hope this still works lol #(also no this post was not made in the app wtf?)

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forgottenchii · 2 years

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I was reading the manhua 'The Ranker who Lives Twice' And at the start, I cannot help but re-write it in TKA verse. Fuck! The twins are really similar to YQ and YX though opposite age. YQ would be a perfect Yeonwoo while YX, the betrayed thrown and stabbed in the back, killed Jeonwoo. Ahhhh!Love them 😍

To think that the first thing I hear from you in five years after you left the house once again was you lying in a coma.

Five years since you came back for once and father drove you away from the house, I regretted that I was not even able to see you.

Years passed by and I gave up trying to find you or whatever you are doing in life. At first, we still had communication but with you always hanging up on me, slowly I felt that even though we are twins maybe it was time I let you go. That it was already time for us to have our own life.

So I stopped contacting you.

Because even now I still felt betrayed whenever I remembered that you left me and run away by yourself.

I hated you back then! It was my careful plan that I've been doubting if I will ever do but you just took my bag easily and left like a wind.

Without a hello or anything from you. I only heard that you came to get an ID and you took mine. I hid yours just so we can talk like old days. But I'd never thought that the time we're far from each other you grew even more shameless.

So I go on with my life. I'm sure I was just fine. I studied well and become the obedient child you were supposed to be.

'It was the only thing we found in the thin jacket he was wearing, Mr. Ye.'

A picture of you wearing a bright red jacket holding a trophy together with what seems to be your team. You look so young and happy smirking at the camera while the others were all smiling or even crying.

And a small note. A pocket notepad with a leather cover, I knew so well.

It was the present I gave you when we turned 15 before you took the turn of walking a different path from me.

"Ge why don't you use a cellphone? It was helpful with communicating, taking notes, or even playing games. I always use it so I won't forget things."

"You know that is not my style."

"Says the computer games addict, some will think you'll be good with electronics gadgets."

"A'Qiu, it's just a hassle."

"That's why here!"

"What's this? A wallet? Two autumn leaves crossed in an infinity and a small circle at the center."

"That's us Ge! Me and You! The infinity is the connection we had, carrying your initial X. At the center you can see a small circle, it was Q for my initial. For you to remember that I will always be your little brother."

Ye Qiu holds the small pocket while looking at his twin brother lying in the hospital bed unconscious.

As he opened the pocket, he saw cards in the first layer. The pocket notepad had a wallet cardholders at the first half while the other was a note.

He turned and went to the note to see his brother's writing.

*If you are not Ye Qiu, then don't turn in the page.*

He smiled. Only he was allowed to look. Even after many years, his brother had always kept it. His promise. That they will always be each other's back.

*I'm sorry. You had a hard time because of me, didn't you?*

*I just wanted to show you that you shouldn't be leaving me alone! Got your lesson clear? Ha!*

*I was sure I would go back really soon but*

*I met my Goddess. I found my dream. I wanted to pursue it. *

*And I ended up drifting away from you.*

October 9, 2013

*I reached City H and met a man in an Internet Cafe! And guess what? I beat him to death. Haha.*

*He took me in even though he was orphaned raising his younger sister. He was kind and funny. Su Muqiu, his name.*

October 12, 2013

*I started helping him in his job, mainly just power leveling, player killing, dungeoning. It was fun. Although we barely had enough and it was really different from our home.*

*I get to earn money by playing! HA! See that, little brother?*

November 20, 2013

*Su Muqiu had been hyping about the new game coming, GLORY. Well, it's just another game but he looks too excited so I cannot say anything else. We even line up to buy these cards that will be used to play the game.*

December 5, 2013

*Well, it will be starting. I don't know what will happen next but I hope it will be fun. All other games mostly lost their brilliance after I play them for a while.*

June 2, 2014

*We started playing together and it's been months. GLORY is different, I believed in what Muqiu said, it will reach the peak and be the best E-sports game there is.*

November 23, 2015

*Su Muqiu did it. He did it, an unspecialized weapon. That was so insane. Though I can always beat him in the arena, it's different. He is a great talent. I cannot wait to see for everyone to see the future of this E-sports with him.*

March 16, 2016

*Pro! Pro Alliance A'Qiu! GLORY will become an E-Sports. Brother Tao asked us if we want to form a team and he will sponsor it from the start.*

June 10, 2016

*Tomorrow! We're finally signing a contract.*

June 11, 2016

*A'Qiu.. He.. he died. I-I don't know what to do. I hope you are here. A'Qiu, it hurts.*

March 30, 2017

*I won. I hope Muqiu will see this.*

July 10, 2020

*Even after I won three championships, Dad will never appreciate me. I get it. But I wished, I could have seen you.*

January 13, 2022

*The season is changing.*

August 30, 2022

*But I won't move on.*

April 7, 2023

*Brother Tao is not the same.*

January 5, 2024

*GLORY is being eaten by the commercialization. Why can't they know? I entered a sports industry, not an entertainment. If I wanted to parade my face I could have debuted with Mother's agency.*

*But what I wanted to achieve is GLORY. GLORY and nothing else. Winning the trophy. Getting to the top and the peak.*

May 19, 2024

*I lost again. I'm tired.*

December 9, 2024

*They won't listen to me.*

February 17, 2025

*Is it my fault for having a different view?*

April 18, 2025

*Is it really, you died a hero or you live long to be a villain?*

May 12, 2025

*Season 6. We're losing again. I cannot bring an entire team on my shoulders no matter how hard I tried.*

...

*Mucheng, I haven't shown her a Championship..*

...

*Season 7. It's only the start but it's too much.*

...

*Everyone of them, whether it was a petty bump or even my room. I didn't mind but sabotaging the game so blatantly?*

...

*It was supposed to be a 6 vs 6 team match. But then it turns out to be 2 vs 10. The rest of them kept on dragging the game. Excellent Era of the past is gone.*

...

*And no matter what I do I cannot save it anymore. It will be a matter of time before they kicked me out too. I think they were eyeing a certain rookie to replace me.*

...

*I'm mad. Is everything I gave not enough? Is it my fault? But of course, I won't show it. Mucheng needs me. I'm her only shoulder.*

...

*Looks like it's time. I'm leaving Excellent Era today, gonna play with One Autumn Leaf for the last time.*

...

*I will miss him. Ye Yi Zhi Qiu. Just like how I always miss a certain Ye Qiu.*

Ye Qiu's tears kept on flowing. But anger also starts building up inside him. This goddamn game took everything from his brother. This goddamn team used his brother and threw him away.

Just you wait Excellent Era! I will make sure you all will get what you deserve. GLORY? What GLORY. Because of this game! I will fucking destroy it!

#qzgs #ff #prompt #YQ #YX #the ranker who lives twice #chi is selfishly starting another shit.#which surely would be left somewhere #the king's avatar

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kennyomegasweave · 1 year

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As an OG scallison warrior. I have so many thoughts from this movie. But all I can manage is just. We really did it. Scott really never stopped loving her. He carried her picture in his wallet for 15 years. He wanted kids but he couldn't find the right woman, because he did find her, she just died at 17. And now he has her back. And she died in the arms of the person she'd always love, but now she's back with that person. They've been given a second chance. And I don't think I will ever stop crying. This is just honestly the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

#teen wolf #scallison #we did it kids #they really got their soft epilogue #I will never stop happy crying #Scott's memories of Allison saved him in s5 #and allison's memories of her whole life since meeting Scott saved her and Scott's life #just wow #regular clyde #all time favorite

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gubes-sweaters · 4 years

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Never Be the Same

Authors Note: Before you read this please don't kill me it's left off on a cliffhanger on purpose and I will write a second part soon. Also I write about what happened in Mexico (spoiler alert if you haven't seen season 15) I know that Lindsay didn't actually do anything (Cat mentions it in the episode date night) but at the time Spencer didn't know so I wrote it as such.

Content warning: arguing, light smut, brief mention of physical and sexual assault, spoilers for season 12+.

Word count: 1.6k

It's been officially three months since Spencer has been home from prison. I know things will never be the same and I don't expect him to be the person he once was, but he's been incredibly distant. Between being manhandled by fellow inmates in prison and feeling violated after what Lindsey Vaughn did in Mexico I can understand why he's been so distant. Most people don't see Spencer as a cuddly person, but that's only because they aren't in a relationship with him. Most people think Spencer is completely averse to human touch, but once he gets close to you he has no problem with it. In fact, when I met Spencer he was so attention and touch starved that he practically followed me around like a puppy for the first couple of months we started dating.

Normally we would wake up together in the morning when he was home and I would cook breakfast while he would stand behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist swaying back-and-forth to music. He would also often plant kissed up and down my neck, side of my face, and the crown of my head. If he was still home by the time lunch came around we would still be right next to each other either being on the couch watching Doctor Who or snuggling up and reading books together. Spencer was always a bit of a homebody only because he spent so much time away from home on cases. When he was finally home he didn't wanna leave until he had to.

Now most mornings when I wake up Spencer is facing away from me. I wake up only to make breakfast separate from him, sometimes we eat together sometimes we don't. Now we kind of just live separate lives. Sometimes I even make excuses to leave the apartment because I don't feel welcomed in there. I want this to change, I need this to change.

It's not for my own selfish reasons well not completely, but I know if I let this continue Spencer and I aren't going to last much longer. He will push himself away further and further until he's in a rut that he can't come out of. I miss him and I miss us. I decided this morning to try and convince him to go out to dinner with me tonight. Today he doesn't have any classes to teach and he's still on his sabbatical, so he has no excuse as to why he couldn't when it comes to being busy. That leads me to where we are right now, a typical Sunday morning and I am making breakfast while he’s in the living room planning for his next lecture.

"So how do you feel about maybe going out to eat tonight?" I asked while setting a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes right in front of him. I take a seat next to him on the couch waiting for his response.

"Oh... uh... yeah, sure I don't see why not." He says still engrossed in his papers. He flips through them so fast that he doesn't even fully pay attention to what he agreed to do tonight.

I put my hand on the file that he's reading before closing it and pulling it away. I then push his plate in front of him and ask him once again if he wants to go out tonight. All he can do is look at me like he's staring at a brick wall. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times like a fish out of water before just avoiding the question and starts to eat his breakfast.

"It’s just that we haven't done anything since you've been back home. If you don't wanna go out that's fine, we can have a movie night or anything I just want to spend time with you. I don't want you to push yourself away from me like I know you're doing right now. Your lecture can wait and you have a bit of time until you can be reinstated to the BAU. Take a little time for me and you please." I beg of him knowing he probably won't be able to resist the puppy dog eyes I'm giving him.

"Ok, yeah you're right I need a break from work for a minute. I don't really feel like leaving the house I think I'm too anxious to leave right now, but a movie night with takeout does sound really good."

I'll take it, I mean he agreed to at least have a movie night with me. I also don't want to have an argument over what were doing. I also don't want to push him too far. It's a step forward, but little does he know I have a little bit more planned than that.

-time skip-

For some reason, we decided to watch Rocky Horror Picture Show first, and Spencer decided to get pizza for dinner. Like I said right now I'm gonna take whatever I can get from this. As we're about halfway through the movie and completely through the pizza I realize we're sitting on opposite ends of the couch. We look a little less like a couple that's been together for four years and more like two awkward teenagers having to watch a movie with either one of our parents. I slowly start to scoot closer and closer to him before I'm glued to his side. After a while, he relaxes into my touch and wraps his arms around my shoulder. I start to plant kisses on his neck and jawline. Once I find that spot on his neck I'm so familiar with it doesn't take him but a couple of seconds to become putty in my hands.

He suddenly grabs my jaw and kisses me furiously. He kisses me with so much vigor and passion, that same passion I've missed too much. Before I even fully comprehend what's going on he's already carried me to our bedroom. He plops my body on the bed with such force that my body bounces in place a couple of times.

Spencer crawls over me and begins sucking on every inch of my neck and collar bones that he can easily get to. After becoming frustrated by the lack of canvas for him, he tugs at the bottom of my shirt a bit before looking at me silently asking for permission. I nod a lift my torso up ever so slightly and lift my arms over my head so he can take my shirt off. He continues marking me until he retracts his head back to see what he did. When I was expecting him to share the same enthusiasm as I had his face dropped. I squinted at him trying to ask if everything's alright without outright saying it. For a couple of moments that were filled with tension, he continues to just stare at me. He's not even looking at my eyes he's just looking at the marks he left. When his eyes started to the water I became nervous and I wanted to know what's going on. I reached out to touch him and he completely retracted before backing up off the bed. He still didn't say anything while he quickly, but very calmly gathered his keys, wallet, and shoes before walking out.

The entire time I was calling out to him wondering what's going on once I got my shirt back on.

"Spence... hey Spence what's going on?" I say while following him out the door. This time I make sure to grab him and when I did I was met with nothing but unbridled rage. With tears in his eyes and a disgusted look on his face, he ripped his forearm from out of my grasp.

"I don't want to talk to you right now! Isn't that fucking obvious why do you think I'm walking away? Don't even think about following me! I don't want you to talk to me, I don't want your sympathy or help, and most importantly right now I don't want you!" He shouts at me before stomping down the hall.

Two concerned neighbors peeked their heads at the door as he went down the hall. All I could do is stand there in horror and confusion. I mean Spencer and I have argued, but all couples do. That wasn't even an argument I don't even know what to call it. Most importantly he has never even raised his voice at me. Normally when Spencer is mad he's calm, and he talks to you with a disappointed almost sad tone rather than an angry one. I don't know who that was because that wasn't my boyfriend.

I slump myself against the door and curl my knees into my chest before letting out heavy sobs. My shoulders rack as my brain tries to adjust to the whiplash of emotions. I cry until I can't anymore and at this point I'm just letting out hiccups while trying to control my breathing. After a while, I don't even have the energy to cry. After sitting numbly on the floor staring at a random corner of the room I pick myself up and just go through the motions to get ready for bed. I can't even call Spencer because he left his phone, so I don't even try and bother worrying about him. After I shower I lay in our bed with still-damp hair. I don't know where he is or when he's coming home but my body is basically shutting down while I'm worrying about where he's at. My eyes are closing against my own will. I'm just hoping I'll wake up next to my boyfriend's curly hair tickling me like most mornings.

Taglist: @rexorangecouny @haylaansmi

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #criminal minds #spencer reid smut

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hopinglimelight · 3 years

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Loss (D.S)

A/N: What is up? Tis I, the magical Hope. Did I schedule this to post really early so I didn’t have to get nervous at the reactions? Yes! But then I was a sucker and wanted to surprise you all with it tonight instead! I’ll have to do format editing tomorrow, but the text will stay the same! I hope everyone has tissues to wipe away their tears of frustration or a pillow to squeeze out their emotions with. Enjoy 😈 -Hope

A year has passed since I revealed to Daniel that I was pregnant. At the time I was 12 weeks along. It had its ups and downs, but our relationship would eventually end. We both would make promises, mistakes, and other things that would eventually lead to our tragic ending. Let me catch you up.

After I told Daniel that I was pregnant, I noticed that his drinking was beginning to slow down a little. The binge drinking, however, has almost completely vanished. He also seems to be taking our relationship more seriously. When I had to deal with morning sickness, he was always there with me. He’s been to every appointment so far. He also carries a picture of our chicken nugget, due to my most frequent craving, with him in his wallet.

“Hey, Jonah! Want to see the little lemon?”

By the time he made his way over to Corbyn, I was getting a bit embarrassed. But Daniel wasn't; he would run like a mad man for the baby. Maybe that's what caused him to break.

His little fruit names kept going for a while. Each new week, little nuggie and I awakened with their new nickname.

“Good morning my little apple.” I giggled as he pressed a kiss to my stomach. I didn't have a bump yet, but it was starting to get obvious that I was pregnant.

“Are you going to change the fruit to match me every week?”

“You bet baby.” Now kissing me on the lips.

Daniels' pride when we found out that we were having a little boy would always make me smile for years and years to come.

“Okay, so you guys are just in luck! Baby is in the perfect position to find out the gender, that is if you want to know today.”

I looked over to Dani and he nodded. “Yes, please.”

“One moment.” I held my breath as the doctor finished looking. She quickly wiped off the gel so I could sit up. “Congratulations on your baby boy!”

I jumped off of the table straight into Dani’s arms. He picked me up gently as I squealed.

“A boy. We’re having a boy.” He whispered.

“Are those tears in your eye Dani?”

“No.” He giggled and quickly wiped his eyes.

So by the time I was seven months, what used to be an old guest bedroom was transformed into a nursery. A neutral grey was painted on the walls. Daniel built a crib, put a few shelves, and I went shopping for little onesies and baby blankets. Two weeks before I turned nine months, the boys showed up with little gifts. Zach got him an elephant, Corbyn had a little astronaut, Jonah was with a cup of coffee, and Jack got him a little guitar. Everything was perfect…. Until my water broke. With the boys still in the house.

After over 7 hours in labor and an extra 15 minutes pushing all 8 pounds and 7 ounces of our baby. Two days later, Daniel and I got to go home with little Alexander Thomas Seavey. And then, after a few months, Daniel went back to his old ways.

After leaving for the evening with an “I’ll be home later.” Daniel did indeed come home later. Daniel dragged his ass home absolutely wasted at 3 am. He was lucky he had tried to sneak in and didn’t wake Alex.

“Where the fuck were you Daniel,” I asked as calmly as I could.

“I told you.” He shrugged. “Out.”

“Whatever. I left a blanket, pillow, and trash can by the couch for you. Good night. Or should I say good morning?” I huffed and went up the stairs. I quickly stopped into the nursery to make sure the baby was sleeping. I would have to get up at six to feed him again and deal with Daniel.

By the next month of this, and one too many “I thought we were past this!” our relationship was tense. We were at Corbyn’s house and letting Alexander hang out with his other favorite uncles.

“I’ll get it! It’s Kora and Alexander!”

“Wow, I’m here too,” Daniel mumbled.

I didn’t get to respond to him because Corbyn opened the door, very quietly.

“Hi Kora, Daniel. Ah, Alex! It’s me. Chev your favorite uncle.”

“Corbyn, don’t tell my son that that’s your name. Please and thank you.”

I smiled at everyone else as we walked through the door.

“Besides.” Zach grinned. “Everyone knows that I’m the favorite uncle!”

“Really, Z? You look like Kora gave birth to you yesterday.”

“Nice one, Jack.” I gave him a fist bump of approval as Zach groaned in the corner.

Within an hour, Corbyn was offering around drinks. I didn’t even bother telling Daniel off. I guess I was just so used to it by now that it didn’t even phase me anymore. Daniel was completely wasted, while almost everyone else had a similar buzz to them. Yes, Zach is underaged but he knows I’ll cut him off if I think he’s had too much to drink. I noticed how Jonah didn’t have a single drink. Yes! Now I have someone to leave my baby with because it’s absolutely not going to be his father in the state he’s in.

“Jonah, can you take the baby? I gotta go to the bathroom.”

“Yeah, all good Kora!”

It was all good until I was on my way back from the bathroom. I heard Daniel’s loud voice which wasn’t a surprise since he was drunk. It was the words he was saying.

“I love her so much.” He smiled. “But I don’t want to be in a relationship… let alone married. I probably would have left but she had my baby four months ago!” He laughed, and I took a step back. No one knew I was around the corner.

“Daniel… that’s pretty messed up.” Jonah frowned and Daniel just laughed some more.

“No. What’s really messed up was I fucked some girl in Maui.”

“Daniel!” Corbyn yelled. “That was like 24 hours after you got married!”

“I was drunk.”

“It’s always that same excuse.” I practically leaped from the corner, the other four boys flinched. Not Daniel. He sat there with a smile as he acknowledged my presence.

“Hey, baby! How long have you-”

“Don’t ‘hey baby’ me, Daniel James! I heard you. A girl? In Maui! Fuck you. I’m taking Alex and we’re going home. You can stay here tonight.”

“Jonah, give me my baby.” He handed over my child with a very apologetic smile on his face.

Daniel didn’t come home the next day, he came home after two. I know Corbyn told him what he said. When Daniel came home, it wasn’t to me. It was to an empty home, mine and Alexander's stuff cleared out. I left two things for Daniel, I left the divorce papers I found in the bottom of his dresser on the dining room table. My name is already signed. Besides the tear-stained papers, was an envelope. Daniel tore it open to find a letter

“Dear Daniel,

I found these in your dresser. So it was true? I’ll text you a time and place to meet up to take your name off of Alex’s birth certificate. I wouldn’t want to burden you.

P.S I hope you enjoy your present.

-Kora”

Left inside of the envelope, was Kora’s engagement and wedding ring.

Daniel hated himself. How could he have been so stupid? He just let the two greatest things slip away from him. And it was all Daniel's fault. Well, him and the alcohol. If only he had listened to Kora. His friends would begin to distance themselves from Daniel. They thought he was stupid as well. And oh would he pay.

Daniel would never get over it. Every woman he would see would remind him of the foolish mistakes, his poor choices that would lead him to his greatest loss.

TAGLIST: @chilling-seavey @hiya-its-amber @jocelyntheduckie @randomlimelightxxx @stuffofseaveyy @the-girl-who-cried-wolf

#daniel seavey fanfic #why don’t we fanfic #daniel seavey #corbyn besson #jonah marais #jack Avery #Zach Herron #wdw Daniel #wdw jack #wdw Zach #wdw Jonah #wdw Corbyn

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harrysgloves · 4 years

Text

Let Your Hair Down (chapter xi)

Get caught up with the Let Your Hair Down Masterlist!

word count: 6,521

story summary: Harry gets more than he bargains for when he falls not only for you but your little girl as well.

chapter summary: Date night!

warnings: Language.. and SMUT! YAY! male&female receiving oral/use of the word puppy/fingering/squirting.. oh and some nice fluffy things at the end.

a/n: okay buckle up for a long one folks! I didn’t want to split the date night chapter up so... it’s a bit long but I’m pretty sure 75% of it is them screwing.. so you know.. Uh also editing not possible with this shit internet I’m forced to use tonight so.. keep that in mind. Enjoy! xx

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"Where are we going?" You asked for what had to be the millionth time and he responded with the same smile and shake of his head that he'd been answering you with all night. You huffed and leaned back into your seat, arms crossing over your chest. You'd been in the car for over 15 minutes and you still had zero idea where you could be going.

You could see the enjoyment he was getting out of you getting so frustrated over this. You hated surprises and it's not like he didn't know that about you. The last surprise birthday party you had when everyone jumped out and said happy birthday, you screamed. Then cried until your anxiety passed. Sarah had never given you a surprise party after that.

"You know I hate surprises." You mumbled under your breath. Your eyes glued to the window watching all the buildings pass by you. You just needed a hint. Really anything to ease your mind. What if he decided to take you skydiving? Nope. You needed answers.

"I know." Was all he said back. That dumb smirk still plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face. You rolled your eyes and let out another huff.

"Cheer up. You'll love it once we get there." His hand reached over and rested on your leg.

"Oh no, you're not touching me until you tell me where we're going." You pushed his hand off your thigh and crossed your legs. This bitch really thought he could just say you'd love it and you'd trust him. He obviously didn't know you very well.

Your eyes were still glued to the window when you heard him laugh. His hand resting back on your thigh. Making you whip your head around towards him. You weren't sure what part of you're not touching me he didn't get but you were about to show him how serious you were being when the car came to a stop.

"We're here. So, can I touch you again?" His cheeky smile across his face as his thumb rubbed small circles on your thigh. You ignored him and looked around to see where you were.

Your eyes widened once you realized where you were. A bright smile across your face as you turned to Harry who was already looking at you. He looked worried about your reaction, his hands running nervously through his hair. You couldn't not throw yourself across the car and kiss him. He was the sweetest.

"What's that for?" He smiled against your lips, his hands running through your hair.

"I can't believe you remembered I've never been here. I told you that like a year ago." You laughed. Your forehead resting against his as you took in a deep breath, too much more of his thoughtful shit and you'd be a pile of mush on the ground.

"Always listen to yeh." He whispered softly before pulling you back in for a kiss and it was official, you were completely fucked over him.

It took you a bit to finally get out of his car. You weren't above sleeping with him right there to show him how happy he'd made you but he kept pushing your hands away, laughing.

"Come on, I can't keep sayin' no to ya much longer and I want us to actually go on a date."

A big pout was on your lips as he kissed your nose and reached for the door handle. Really, you didn't have to go. You were just happy he listens to you. It was a complete 180 from what you were used to before with your ex and you wanted to show him you appreciate his efforts. You eventually decided you'd show him later as he pulled you out of the car. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist as you walked side by side.

"Still can't believe you've never been to Coney Island Boardwalk." He pulled you in closer to him as you walked up a few steps and were finally on your first Boardwalk, ever.

"Never been to any boardwalk." You pulled back from him and took his hand in yours as you took in all the things around you. Sure, you'd seen boardwalks on movies and stuff but nothing compared to it in real life. It was so noisy and a lot more bright than you expected.

"How come?" Harry asked as he pulled you by your hand closer into his side. It was definitely more crowded than you were expecting it to be and you started to get a bit anxious at the thought of people stopping you two a million times to ask Harry for a picture. Maybe he hadn't really thought this through too well.

"My mom hates the beach so we never went when I was a kid." You laughed softly at the thought of her ever being around a beach. She really had an issue with sand.

"Then when I got older I just got busy. I never really had time to take vacation then Thea came along and all free time went out the window." You shrugged, never really caring that you'd missed out on something.

"Can't believe you've come here though. How do people not stop you all the time?" You looked up to him. Hoping he could put your worries at ease but the look on his face did the exact opposite. He looked so uncomfortable it made your skin crawl.

"Jus' part of life now." He tightened his grip on your hand when he started to chew the inside of his cheek. You realized life with him would never be normal. Or at least the type of normal you wanted.

"Oh." Was oh you could mumble out. You knew he caught the sight of your face falling slightly but he chose to ignore it. Which was probably for the best. You didn't want to ruin the night with your over thinking before it even started.

The awkward tension between you two quickly went away when you both got the area with all the games. You knew those games were nothing but a rip off. You'd end up spending double what any of the stuffed animals were actually worth but when you saw the large pink teddy bear you stopped in your tracks, making Harry stumble a bit, your hand still clutched in his.

"Oh my God," you pointed to the prize waiting to be won. "Thea would love that. We should try to get it."

"She would love it." Harry smiled up at the teddy bear, your eyes moving over to take him all in. Sometimes you had a hard time believing he could be so invested in not only you but your daughter as well.

You eagerly pulled him up to the stand, basically dragging him. You'd only tried a handful of times at this particular game at local fairs in your hometown. You had to throw a dart and pop so many balloons to get the prize. You were thanking your lucky stars you were a pro at darts from all the times you spent in a dingy bar back in your college days.

"How many?" The probably underpaid teenager asked when you both finally made it to the front.

"Uhm, just five." Harry let go of your hand to take out his wallet and laid down a 5 dollar bill.

"Hit one and you get a small prize. Three for any of the top shelf." The guy stepped to the side, letting Harry attempt to throw a dart. Which was the most tragic thing you'd ever witnessed. He missed all five times.

"How are you so bad at this?" You asked, trying to contain your giggles. Even the game attendant looked a little amused.

"Aye, I didn't have time to run around and play with darts." He huffed reaching back for his wallet but you stopped him. You slammed down your own five dollar bill and asked for five of your own darts.

"Gonna have to teach you some things." You smiled bright at him as you turned back around and threw a dart and hit on the first try. You could hear his unimpressed grumble from behind you but as your 5th dart in a row hit a balloon he looked at you in shock.

"How'd you do that?" He asked, his brows furrowed as he looked at the board with balloons pinned on it like it had personally betrayed him.

"Beer darts in the college bars." You shrugged but a proud smile was on your face as you were handed the oversized pink teddy bear. You quickly reached up and put it on Harry's shoulders for him to carry around for you. He gripped tightly onto the bears legs as you two moved on back into the crowd.

"Ohhhhh," you drew out as the sweet smell of fried foods filled your senses. "They have funnel cake!"

"Should have guessed we'd be heading right for the sweets." Harry smiled down towards you as you pushed his shoulder.

"I run on nothing but sugar and sleep deprivation." You pushed him towards the stand with the huge sign that said funnel cakes.

You both moved over to the side where no one was walking as you started to shove your mouth full of the powder sugar covered deep fried batter. Harry chuckled from beside you making you look up from your plate.

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes at him as you went back to happily eating your food.

"Y'got some on yer face, love." His smile didn't leave his face as his hand came up to wipe away some of the powder sugar from the corner of your mouth.

"Got some here too." He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours quickly before his warm tongue swiped across your bottom lip. He pulled back before you had the chance to further the kiss, you pouted up to him, upset he didn't let you kiss him back properly.

"Wanted a good kiss." You sighed, looking up at him with those big doe eyes he couldn't say no to.

"All my kisses are good." His hand came up to his chest, acting all offended. You rolled your eyes. He knew exactly what you meant but he leaned down and gave you a kiss on your forehead. You smiled as you felt his lips linger for a second. This was definitely better than the funnel cake but you'd never tell him that.

It was late by the time you and Harry started to make it back towards his car. You definitely shouldn't have worn the high heeled boots you had on but they went so well with the outfit that you thought it would be fine but after over 3 hours of walking around you hated them with a passion.

"My feet are killing me." You whined, shaking Harry's hand a bit as you threw your mini tantrum, but he just smiled at you stopping in front of you and crouched down a bit.

"Hop on." His back facing towards you and your eyes widened at what he wanted you to do.

"No way! You'll drop me." You tried to walk past him but he stopped you by grabbing your hand.

"Already carried you to bed, darling." His cheeky smile on his face shining bright as you grumbled your way back around and jumped on his back.

"Don't wanna hear you complaining in five minutes when you're tired." You laid your head on his shoulder as his hands went to support your legs. You held the ridiculous sized bear you'd won earlier in the night in your hand as he took off walking.

"Never complain about having ya on me." He said, causing you to laugh but swat at his chest.

"Shut up. People will hear you one of these times." You buried your head in the crook of his neck, hiding your embarrassment.

"Don't want anyone to know what dirty things you do to me in bed, love?" You could hear the gloating in his voice as you pushed away from him. Fuck this, he wasn't going to tease you and try to be sweet at the same time. You tried to get off him but he only gripped your legs tighter and laughed at your struggling.

"'M just messin'." You decided to let it go as you two finally made it back to the car and he let you down.

You sighed as you finally settled into the car. It had been a long night and you were so excited to get these torture devices off your feet. You had no idea how Harry managed to wear those boots all night long without feeling like he was walking on glass. You jumped slightly at the sound of his door slamming, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Yer coming to mine right?" He asked but still somehow looked anxious about it. One of these days you were hoping he'd be able to be completely comfortable around you.

"I don't put out on the first date." You shot back, causing his deep laugh that was slowly becoming your favorite sound in the world erupt from him.

"Hate to break it to y'love but y'put out before the first date." That big toothy grin on his face made you want to slap him.

"Watch it Styles or you'll definitely never sleep with me again." You huffed sitting back into your seat, arms crossing over your chest. He hummed in amusement as he started his car. Obviously not buying your fake threat.

It didn't take long before you were standing in the middle of Harry's ungodly sized penthouse. Really you shouldn't have been surprised but as you looked around you couldn't do anything else but gape with your mouth wide open.

"Better close yer mouth before I fuck it." Harry said as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You snapped your mouth closed as his lips touched the sensitive spot on your neck that he was becoming overly familiar with over the last few weeks. A shiver went through you and you knew he could tell he was getting to you by the smile forming on his perfect mouth. Sometimes you really hated him.

"Gonna bite it off if you keep it up." You said irritated he had finally started teasing you back more. You had messed up by constantly being a smartass to him. Now you were paying for it.

"I bite back." He gave you a small nip on your neck. You let out a squeak, turning around and pushing him back, causing him to laugh. He took your hands you had on his chest and held them tightly pulling you back into his chest.

"'M sorry. Couldn't help myself." He said through laughter but you pulled away from him. Quickly walking down the hallway without him following you.

"I'm going to call Sarah to let her know that you're an ass." You shook your head as you made your way into what you assumed was his bedroom.

You plopped down on your stomach on his bed that felt like a cloud. Your head resting on your hand as you shot Sarah a text that said you weren't going to be home til tomorrow morning. Which resulted in you getting a text with a string of very suggestive emojis as a reply. You rolled your eyes as you closed your message app and set your alarm for the next morning. The last thing you wanted to do was have Thea worrying about you not being home when she woke up in the morning.

"Could get used to this." Harry said from the doorway to the room. His arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame. He looked so content and happy in this moment that it almost took your breath away.

"Which part?" You asked as, sat up on your knees at the end of the bed, tucking your hair behind your ear, nervous about what he might say. He had a way of making you so comfortable at times and so on edge at others.

His brows furrowed as he thought over your question. Your hands fiddled together in your lap as you nervously chewed on your bottom lip. He went from carefree to guarded so quickly you weren't sure what he was about to say, not sure if you wanted to hear it.

It wasn't a second later and he was walking across the beautiful hardwood floors so gracefully you didn't understand how he could be a real person. His fingers laced through your hair as he pulled your face closer to his. His eyes locked onto your briefly then slowly scanning your face like he was studying you before silk soft lips connecting with yours. You could feel your anxiety dissipate as you held onto his forearms to keep yourself balanced.

Your heart already beating like crazy as you leaned taller on your knees, putting all your emotions you couldn't say yet into the kiss but he pulled away before you could deepen the it yet again and you would have been bitching about it if the words that came out of his mouth didn't almost stop your heart.

"All of it." He whispered softly. Your grip on his arms tightened. Your mind taking you back to the last time you were in a bedroom with him, confessing your feelings. The moment felt so breakable just like the last time. You could hear both of your shallow breathing as he took his time to explain what he meant. His fingers lacing tighter in your hair, gripping like he'd never let you go.

"You. Thea. Being with you two." He sucked in a deep breath. His forehead still resting against yours but his eyes were closed. You could feel his nervousness radiating off him. His whole body seemed to tense up the more honest he was with his feelings. His brows pulled close together like he was debating over his next words so carefully.

"You guys make me happy." He sighed as your hands rubbed his forearms reassuringly. His body instantly relaxing from your soft touch. The quiet wrapped around both of you as took him all in. Your forehead still pressed up against his and you wished he could hear all the thoughts you had running through your mind, too nervous about getting hurt again to say any of it out loud.

His soft brown curls brushed against your forehead as he took in deep calming breaths. His eyes still closed as your hand came up to rest on his cheek. Your thumb grazing against the rough stubble that was growing there. You wanted him to not worry about opening up to you but your heart and brain were fighting a war. You wanted him but you wanted to protect yourself from getting hurt ever again.

The turmoil inside your own mind quieted when he opened his usually bright green eyes. You could see a million emotions floating in them. You could look into those endless beautiful eyes for the rest of your life and be content.

"You make us happy too." You let a soft sigh escape your lips when you pushed them back against his. You relaxed into him. Your mind finally stopping the madness of fighting off your emotions when his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to him.

Large hands pressed against your back, holding you so close you felt like you were seconds away from being absorbed completely by him. He everywhere around enveloped you. His tongue invading your mouth, his smell flooding your senses, hands rubbing and grabbing every part of you he could get a hold of.

Your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers running through his hair, holding onto the last bit of sanity you had.

"Need you." He breathed out, arms tightening around you. All you could do was nod, your ability to speak leaving you as your desire to be his took over.

He didn't need you words, his hands slowly running under your shirt and pulling it over you and off your body. Your lips only disconnecting for seconds before they were back together, there was no fighting for power this time. Your mind blanking as you ran on pure adrenaline and your growing need for him.

His knees came up on to the edge of the bed forcing you to move backwards. Trying your best to not fall over as his demanding hands were snapping your bra off you. You shrugged the beautiful red lace bra off your shoulders trying your best to throw it off the bed while still kissing him.

"Off." You demanded greedily pulling at the bottom of the shirts you loved see him in that were now in your way.

"Always so demanding." He smiled, taking off his cute sweater vest. His fingers unbuttoning each button on his shirt at an ungodly slow pace. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they took their time. His eyes never leaving the sight of you watching him so carefully. His chest rising from his slow deep breaths when his shirt finally hit the bed.

Your eyes moving over his tattoos on his stomach up to his chest and eventually back to his eyes. They were so blown with lust you almost couldn't see the green in them anymore. Gone was the softness in them, replaced with his need to have you.

You quickly made your way off the bed. Harry's brows furrowing from your sudden change in pace, turning to watch as you slipped your jeans down your legs. His eyes following them all the way down to the floor.

"Gonna sit there and look at me or you gonna lay down?" Your cocky smile across your face from his obvious staring.

He rolled his eyes but didn't say anything as he laid down, curious to see what you were going to do next. His back against the bed, resting on his elbows as he watched you crawl back onto the bed. Sitting yourself so perfectly over him. A leg on either side of his hips.

Your hands resting on his chest as you leaned down to kiss him. Your lips moving in perfect rhythm with each others like you'd been doing this for years not a few weeks. His hands on your back pulling your chest into his, the feel of his bare skin against your fueled the fire already burning in you.

You gave yourself time to enjoy kissing him the way you've been wanting to all night. Your tongue eagerly followed his every move, letting him lead the kiss the way he wanted to. Your legs tightening around his waist when he started shallow thrust of his hips, desperately trying to get any relief he could. You could feel his rock hard bulge against your now drenched underwear and a part of you was proud of yourself for holding out this long. Your mind running with all the things you wanted to do with him.

Your lips parted from his, making your way down his jaw, his neck, his chest, hitting every one of his sweet spots you'd found over the last few weeks along the way. His hands gripped tightly onto the yellow comforter the lower you went. Your hot breath fanning out, soft lips dragging over his skin every time you moved slightly to the next spot you wanted to leave a small kiss. Your thin fingers pulling down his zipper made him let out a breath, hands running through his hair. The corner of your mouth tugging up in a triumphant smile, the effect you had on him filling you with confidence.

You lifted your head up, looking him in his lust filled eyes as you took his pants and boxers down his legs, just enough to free his throbbing erection from it's tight confinement. A smirk on your lips as you caught sight of his chest heaving in deep breaths. Hands in his hair trying desperately to keep a grip on himself as your tongue ran along his hard member from his base all the way to his tip. Giving small kitten licks around his red pulsing tip. His erection twitching in your hand after every slight flick of your tongue. His eyes burning into yours when you finally took him fully into your mouth, slow, deliberate… teasing.

You only made it half way down him when he thrusted up into your mouth. You gagged around him causing a deep moan to come from him.

"Shit, sorry puppy." His hands wrapping in your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail. His hands trying their best to not guide your movement, not that you would have minded if they did.

Your eyes didn't leave his as your hand took the part of him that wouldn't fit fully in your mouth. Harry's head laid back against the pillows, hands tightening to the point you started to get concerned when you hollowed your cheeks, your hand twisting slightly as you ran it up and down him, picking up your speed.

He was hot and heavy in your mouth. A distinct taste that was fully him filled you as you continued to push yourself to your limit. Deciding to remove your hand and try your best to take him all the way in now that you were a little more prepared for it.

His head instantly lifted off the pillow when you pulled your hand off him, giving the hand resting in your hair a slight push, trying to let him know you wanted him to take over. He must have gotten the hint cause a deep guttural groan vibrated through him.

His hand instantly shoved you fully down on him, hips bucking up into your mouth. You gagged only slightly greatly misjudging how much he was about to ruin your throat.

Your watering eyes never left him as he continued to move you how he wanted. His head thrown back as he fucked your throat relentlessly. Your beautiful red lace underwear drenched with your arousal, legs clenched tight together, hoping to get some sort of relief from the aching between your legs.

"Fuck." He pulled you off him so suddenly you were almost scared you had used too much teeth but as your chest heaved in deep breaths of much needed air you saw that same predatory look in his eyes that you saw the last time you were alone with him.

Your legs pressed together, a whimper coming from you. You needed him so badly you weren't even aware of him pulling you in for a kiss until his lips touched yours again. It was all tongues and clashing teeth. Gone was your perfect in sync movements, replaced with a fiery need for each other.

"Harry." You moaned out, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. The ever growing ache between your legs was unbearable. You needed him to do something about it. Your pleading eyes, meeting his again as he laid you down.

"I know baby." He said through the kisses he trailed down your neck. He didn't spend long teasing your weak spots before he settled in between your legs. His eyes wide as he took you all in, your underwear complete soaked through. In any other moment you might have been slightly embarrassed but you needed him so bad you didn't care. Your hands quickly going down and taking your own underwear off. Throwing them against a wall.

"Eager little thing." Harry mused as you put your legs back on the bed. One on either side of his face, bent slightly. Your whole body feeling like it was on fire from the desire burning through your veins. You didn't think seeing him get so lost in you would do this to you but now you needed him.

"Please." You begged, voice hoarse and ragged from the earlier abuse. You tried your best to hold onto the shred of decency you had left but your hips moved closer to his face almost against your will.

You could have cried when his fingers finally ran up your slit. A loud uncontainable moan ripped from your lungs, throat burning from the volume, head thrown back already choking for air.

"So pretty." Harry mumbled more to himself than you. You pulled yourself up to rest on your elbows, fingers desperately digging into the bedding. Your whole body tense from anticipation as he slightly pulled your lower lips apart, his hot breath hitting your sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to whimper in need.

"Gonna keep yer eyes on me puppy?" He asked, mouth so close to where you wanted him you're pretty sure he could have gotten you to agree to just about anything. Your head nodding so fast it made a small smirk come to his lips. He didn't seem to mind your lack of talking tonight, his warm tongue finally, finally, pushing out past his lips. Laying flat against your slit as he licked you in a way you'd never felt before.

You started to regret saying you'd keep your eyes on him as his tongue drew skilled patterns directly on your bundle of nerves. Your eyes momentarily shutting with your moan when he sucked lightly on your engorged clit. Your head getting lost in that fuzzy wonderful headspace but you were ripped out of it by the harsh slap on the inside of your leg. Making you yelp eyes narrowing down to Harry, wondering what you did.

"Eyes. On. Me." He said each word with such a finalized tone of voice you couldn't argue with him if you wanted to. You loved when he got into this mode. His usually sweet demeanor replaced with one with such authority it made your legs try to clench together, but Harry stopped them hands firmly pressed to the insides of both your legs.

"Be a good girl pup and I'll take good care of ya, yeh?" All you could do was nod in agreement. A soft laugh coming from him at your blatant craving from him. You wanted to tell him to go fuck himself if he was going to be like that but all desire to tell him off left your mind the second his mouth was back on you.

You didn't have to hold back on your moans this time. Which you were thankful for since his tongue was driving you crazy. Your arms shaking from how much you were struggling to stay propped up on them, fighting against every fiber of yourself that wanted to close your eyes in pleasure.

A sharp squeak ripped from you when he pushed both your legs to your chest, holding both of them in place with his large hands around the back of your thighs. Fingers digging so harshly into your silk skin you knew there was no way you wouldn't have bruises there tomorrow.

Your eyes widened as he moved to sit up on his knees, mouth still attached to your core. Everytime you ended up underneath him he never ceased to blow your mind with how well he could tell what you needed. His forearm rested across the back of both your thighs as his now free hand went to your drenched folds. His two fingers pushing into you.

He hummed against your clit as you were suddenly so close to your release. His marksman worthy digits hitting your sweet spot almost instantly. You were sure you wouldn't be able to keep your eyes open in a few moments. Your eyelids growing heavy with pleasure as he continued to thrust his fingers hitting exactly where you needed them every time.

A whine coming from you when he pulled away from you. So close to your much needed high that you saw it all crashing down around you.

"Harry." you panted out through shallow breaths. You couldn't believe he left you hanging like that, you needed him so bad you swore you were a second away from actually going crazy.

"Please, I'll be good." You whined out. So damn desperate you even surprised yourself. The smile that came across his face at your words was infuriating.

"Been so good pup but I need to be inside you before I explode on my bed like some teenager." You wanted to laugh but your current situation dripping onto his bed was stopping you from joking around. You needed him to shut up and fuck you.

"Ass up." He demanded letting your legs go so you scurry into the position he wanted you in. Your heart rate picked up the second his hand came to the back of your head and pushed up down into the pillows. His stomach laying across your back as he leaned down to your ear.

"Need ya like this, baby." He whispered into your ear, your body tensing up just at the sheer thought of what he was about to do. A shiver ran down your spine as his hands smoothed over the soft skin of your ass, taking his time. Soaking in the sight of you completely dripping and ready for him.

"Been wantin' ya like this since I saw ya prancing 'round in that fuckin' dress at Mitch's." A sharp slap on your ass made you jolt forward, moaning at the feeling of your tingling skin being soothed by warm hand.

Your core clenched around nothing as you felt him guide the tip of his erection against your bundle of nerves. You weren't sure how much more teasing you could put up with. You whined shifted backwards into him, needing him so badly it was all you could think about. Your mind blank on anything else but your desire for him.

He pushed into your warm slick channel, your walls instantly clamping down on him, pulling him in. Your face pushed deeper into the pillow at the feeling of finally getting what you need. Your moans hung in the air around you two as he slowly pulled out only to slam back into you.

"Fuck." You heard him from behind you a groan coming from deep in his chest as his hands smoothed over each of your ass cheeks slowly spreading you apart to get a better view of himself thrusting deep into you.

Another stinging slap on your ass followed by his hips snapping against yours again harshly had your face almost completely buried by the pillow. Hands wrapped tightly around it, holding on for life as you felt your mind grow fuzzy again. Your eyes closed soaking in the absolute pleasure of being so full of him. You couldn't hold back the moans pouring out of you even if you tried, the pillow muffling half of them.

"Need to hear you, pup." His arm wrapping around your shoulders bringing your back up to his chest. His lips at the crock of your neck while your hands cling to his forearm. Your nails digging into his flesh as he relentlessly pounded into you. You swore you were loosing feeling in your face and your voice was almost gone at this point. Your legs felt like they were going jello, about to collapse any second as your walls clenched around him again. You were so close you could feel the tears starting to well in your eyes.

"Close baby?" He whispered so softly it was a complete contradiction to what he was doing to you. His speed never slowly down. You felt like he was trying to fuck your soul out of your body.

All you could do was nod, head thrown back on his shoulder with a whine, hands still gripped onto his arm that was around you.

Your whole body tensing with the force of the orgasm building in you. You couldn't hold out any longer even if you tried. Your chest heaving in deep breaths you desperately needed. Feeling like you could actually pass out from pleasure when his fingers went to work circles around your clit.

"Harry!" You moaned out as your high hit you. Toes curling, nails dragging down his arm as you felt the strongest orgasm you'd ever had in your life. Your slick running down the both your legs only seemed to fuel his desire for you. His hips rolling against yours in short motions.

Your body slacked in his arms as your high dissipated. Your body would have fallen to the bed if it wasn't for his arm around your shoulders keeping you upright with him. Your face felt as numb as your mind when you slumped in his arms.

Harry moaned out your name as he finally stilled inside of you. The warmth of his release filling you.

He held you close for a few seconds breathing in deep calming breaths before laying you down on the bed, being sure to brush your hair out of your face before he pulled out of you. He rolled over on the bed directly beside, the bed bouncing slightly as he landed on it.

"Holy shit." He sighed out, his arm resting on his forehead, looking as fucked out as you felt. The throbbing between your legs replaced with a delicious soreness. Your whole body felt light still, your mind still buzzing from your release.

"Y'ruined my sheets." He laughed at you hiding your face in embarrassment, whining at the fact he had brought that up. You could feel your face burning, ears turning red. You'd never done that before and as good as it felt you weren't used to it.

"Shut up." You groaned, face nuzzling deeper into the pillow. Your arms clinging onto it when he pulled your body into his. Cuddling up to your back. Both your chest rising and falling in sync together as his hand ran up and down your side, shiver going down your spine at the feeling.

You both were too exhausted to do anything other than lay there. Taking in the feeling of being wrapped up together. You felt your eyes start to drift shut, growing heavy from your exhaustion.

"Y'should be mine." He heard is soft voice speak from behind you, his nose nuzzled in your hair. Your brain still foggy with exhaustion, body still limp.

"Hmm?" You asked, not moving from your spot, too tired to do much of anything.

"Y'should be mine." He said again his lips pressing lightly to your shoulder. Lingering there as a smile broke across your face.

"Already am." You sighed using the rest of your strength to turn around to look at him. His eyes burning into yours as you smiled at him. Your hand resting on his chest, thumb tracing lightly over the tattoos there.

You honestly thought you were so transparent to him. Your heart was already his, he just had to say it. Admit that he wanted this too. You were already there, ready to give up fighting your feelings for him.

"Then 'm yours."

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Fanfic #fanfiction #writing #mine #LYHD

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mihaeripham · 4 years

Text

Sophie Langster’s profile

(ver 1.0)

Big thanks to @hogwartsmysterystory for the template.

Name: Sophie Josephine Langster/ Sophie Langster

Gender: Female

Age: 15 ( year five)

Birth Date: 30/06/1973

Species: Human

Blood Status: Half-Blood

Sexuality: Straight

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Nationality: English

Myer Briggs Personality Type: ISFJ

THE MAGE

1st Wand (above): Oak wood with unicorn hair core, 25 cm long, super flexibility

2nd Wand (below): Ash wood with Wampus cat hair, 30 cm long, 1/2 super flexibility

Animagus: Tuxedo cat ( cat with black and white fur)

Misc Magical Abilities: Animagus

Boggart Form: A big wave of cold water, flying newspaper saying bad things about Jacob, her family and herself

Riddikulus Form: Balloons with funny shapes and pattern

Amortentia: (What do they smell like?): Cocoa, flour, fresh grass, burned wood under fireplace

Patronus: Cheetah

Patronus Memory: The first time she successfully baked her first cookie batch

Mirror of Erised: Can swim freely in any water surface

Specialized/Favourite Spells:

- Wingardium Leviosa ( specialized and favourite)

- Combo Engorgio + Reducio

- Depulso

- Protego

Game Appearance: ( I’m currently replaying so the year in the picture is year 3)

Height: 156 cm

Weight: 46 kg

Physique:

-Short, average body

-Short hair with bang tied behind

-Round face with big, round cat-like eyes and small short nose

Eye Colour: Emerald green

Hair Colour: Chestnut brown

Skin Tone: Tan brown

Inventory: (what do they carry on them?): Wand, a bag of homemade cookie, wallet, hair ties, napkins

Fashion: Pattern clothes with bags, mainly bright color ( red, yellow, orange); long socks; high neck boots or canvas shoes

ALLEGIANCES

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Affiliations/Organizations: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Professions:

- School: Curse - Breaker

- After graduated: Creator, owner and manager of “Sweet and Savoury” cookie franchies

HOGWARTS INFORMATION

Class Proficiencies:

Charms: O

DADA: E

Flying: O

Herbology: E

History of Magic:A

Potions: O

Transfiguration: E

Quidditch: Chaser ( for 4 years)

Extra Curricular: Member of Higgpogiff, Sphinx and Dragon Club

Favourite Professors: Sprout

RELATIONSHIPS

Brother: Jacob Edmund Langster/ Jacob Langster : 5 years older than Sophie, a talented child in spells and flying skills, famous in his hometown and had many friends/admirers, was considered as the family’s pride and Sophie’s idol

Father: Edmund Junior Langster/ Edmund Langster : A bussinessmen in both the wizard and muggle world, half-blood

Mother: Josephne Lucy Callhound/ Josephine Langster : Owner of a bakery, muggleborn, originally from America

Love Interest: Talbott Winger

Best Friends: Rowan Khanna

Rival: Merula Snyde

Enemy: Patricia Rakepick

Dormmates: (Who’s in your MC’s dorm with them?): (currently none so I welcome anyone who wants to be my dormmates)

Pets: A cat name Mr.Ginger, a puppy crup name Olly

Closest Canon Friends: Rowan Khanna , Ben Copper, Bill Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, Barnaby Lee, Tulip Karasu, Talbott Winger

Closest MC Friends: Can anyone be Sophie’s friend pls TvT

BACKGROUND/HISTORY

- Born in a town in Ipswich

- 2 years old: Her magic appeared while she was having a very bad fever (lasted for a week), resulted her height grow shorter than normal.

- 7 years old: While playing with Jacob, she accidentally fell into a frozen lake and almost drowning. Developed a fear for water and cold weather .

- 10 years old:

Jacob’s dissapperance.

After the incident,rumors spread throughout the town, affected not only Josephine’s work but also the family’s life. This was the time Sophie got mocked and bullied a lot, even got kick out by her friends (mainly because she’s Jacob’s sister and they either only played with her because of Jacob’s fame or afraid of getting involved to the scandal)

The Langster had to move to London to find Jacob + be able to live and work normally again.

Because of the massive change in such a short time ( Jacob, pressure from the rumors, new enviroment, new people, ......) Sophie started to have anxiety, therefore caused her shyness and stress. Noticed this, Edmund and Jopsephine suggested her trying on small hobbies, which led Sophie discovered her passion for cooking, especially about cookies.

- 11 years old: Received a letter from Hogwarts; became a trio with Rowan and Ben; discovered about the vault

-12 years old: Joined the Quidditch Club ; broke the first Vault; overcame her fear of cold

- 13 years old: Became an Animagus; joined the Spinx and Dragon Club; broke the second Vault, meet Talbot and developed feeling for him by the end of the year

- 14 years old: Became assistant for Rakepick; join the Higgpogiff Club; secretly dating Talbot in the late half of the year

- 15 years old: (to be continue.......)

PERSONALITY

- Friendly : She thinks that people deserve to have at least one friends since she used to experience loliness in London; tried to make many friends as possible, or just simply got along with others

- Cheerful: “ A smile a day keeps bad things away” is her motto

- Generous : Always put others benefefits before her own and helped them as much as she can, sometimes can be a bit too much for their need

- Diligent : Always did her best at everythings, whether if it’s in school or not so that people can’t bad - mouth her or compare her to Jacob

- Loyal : Getting abandoned by her “friends” in the past makes her really treasured her current friends. Sophie promised to her self that she will not let anythings harm her friends

- Patience: She got in during her time praticing her baking skill

- Shy : Mostly when she around stranger who looks older than her or in places she doesn’t know

- Naive : Her kindness often got her tricked / used by others, but luckily she’s getting more careful as time goes by

- Sensitive :During the time in new home, she learned how to read people’s emotion/action. While it helps her understand her friends better, it also makes her easily to having stress, and she has a really hard time to deal with it.

MISC

- Cookies is Sophie’s stress dealing, and in the worst situation she could just eat a bunch of cookies instead for normal meal

- Mr.Ginger is her 9th birthday gift from her dad; Olly is Jacob’s gift in his first year so that Sophie wouldn’t feel lonely without him

- Sophie sweats a lot when worries

- Sophie can cook other things, but cookies is her specialized. Her favorite ones is chocolate

- Sophie likes reading fiction muggle stories and sometimes share it with Rowan and Talbott

- In weekend, she either has study group with Ben, Rowan ( and Penny, if she can) or went shopping in Hogsmade with Tulip and Tonks

- Bill is her brother figure. He teaches her new spells and acknowlegded her as his sister after Sophie told him about her childhood

#sophie langster #jacob sibling #hphm #mc profile #may add more after I finish year 5

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plaidbooks · 4 years

Text

Everyone Deserves Love chapter 4

A/N: He’s here! Now done with the prologue, Barba has finally made it to the story haha. This is a long chapter, but it’s also a lot of exposition since it takes place 3 years after chapter 3. That’s right, this chapter takes place in season 15, right after Cragen retires. Gonna say now that I tried to keep the timeline of the show as close as I could, but I have taken some liberties (for example, Cragen leaving to Lewis dying is apparently 4 months, which is insanely short). Also, yes, Amaro should be on desk duty at this time, but with a threat on Olivia’s life, she’s not gonna be left alone.

Also, now that this story is in the “present” tense, and with both Devon and Barba, the narrative will switch between the two’s pov. It’s mostly Devon’s, but you do get Barba’s insight, as well

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: mentions of rape, mentions of trafficking, alcohol/drinking, knives, guns

Words: 12k+

Courthouse

Wednesday, January 26th. 4:36pm

“We find the defendant guilty,” the juror said before taking their seat. The judge thanked the jury for their services and dismissed the court. On the outside, Rafael Barba showed no emotions aside from a small smirk—ever the smug counselor—and simply gathered his papers, put them in his case, and latched it. On the inside, however, he was many things; relieved, happy, and yes, maybe a little smug. Yet a nagging part of his mind was nervous, if not a little afraid; something he wasn’t quite used to feeling, especially after securing a guilty verdict. Sure, he got the conviction on a top-ranking gang member—one Jorge Ramirez--who was just sent to jail for the rest of his mortal life for trafficking, rape, and murder. But Barba knew that this may put a target on his back in retaliation from Ramirez’s gang…not that he hadn’t dealt with some sort of threats in the past. But this time, his instinct was telling him something was off. He pushed the feeling down, grabbed his case while receiving a very nasty glare from Ramirez as he was pulled away, then turned to see Sergeant Benson and all of the other SVU detectives giving him broad grins or congratulations.

“Guilty on all counts. Nice, Rafael,” Liv said with a pat on his shoulder.

“Let’s hope we can round up the rest of his posse,” Barba replied. “Drinks?”

Flanagan’s Bar

Wednesday, January 26th. 5:06pm

They all agreed that a celebration drink was in order—this had been a rough case all around--and made their way from the courthouse to the cop bar down the street. None of the party were particularly heavy drinkers, but Barba knew that he wanted to leave his mind for a little bit tonight; this wasn’t his first hard case that he had dealt with recently. That being said, Fin only stayed for one drink, saying he had other things to do tonight. Rollins had a couple drinks, then bowed out herself. Amaro mentioned something about facetiming his daughter before she went to bed and headed out shortly after, leaving Liv and Barba alone. They moved from the big, party table to the stools at the bar, chatting idly about the case, then about life; the norm when they were alone together. Barba never admitted it aloud, but he loved their friendship; Liv was smart, strong, and, most importantly, put up with his shit. What they had wasn’t romantic by any standard; it was fully platonic, and they both knew it, regardless of what rumors flew about. But they both cared for each other in a way that was…different from anyone else. These types of relationships seemed to flock to Liv, seeing as she had a team that she worked with daily and trusted with her life. But Barba? Well, he had a couple childhood friends that he’d see around town, though after the business with Muñoz, those friends were fewer and farther in between. Then there was his secretary, Carmen, and a few acquaintances at work—none of these people were actual friends he saw outside of work, besides at the occasional suit and tie benefit dinners his office forced him to attend. Sure, he was friendly…sometimes…with them, and with the SVU detectives, but nothing that was substantial outside of Liv.

“You need a ride home tonight, Rafa?” Olivia asked after she finished her glass of wine. Barba took a look at his scotch; it wasn’t low enough to shoot it back quite yet. And he didn’t want to make Liv wait for him.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. I can catch a cab tonight,” he replied with a half-smile. Olivia gave him a look like she knew exactly what he was thinking, feeling. But she decided not to comment on it. She knew he could take care of himself.

“Good night, then. Good win today,” she smiled at him as she stood, putting her jacket on.

“Sleep well,” he replied, returning her smile, before taking a sip of his drink.

Liv grinned. “Oh, I will, knowing that we finally put Ramirez behind bars.” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, gave him a light squeeze, then headed out into the cold evening. Barba sighed and checked his watch, 9:07pm, later than he thought. He was usually in bed pretty early after a big win, since he normally had to stay up late the previous week preparing. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he couldn’t stop the picture of his quiet loft from flashing across his mind, nor the sudden feeling of loneliness—something that he hasn’t felt in a while. Sure, he has been alone for a long time now, but that never bothered him…much. The truth is, he was usually too busy to really dwell on the fact that his bed, his home, his life, has been empty outside of himself. Plus, the scandal with Alex, Eddy, and Yelina happened only a few, short months ago. And Barba still couldn’t understand how Alex could be doing things like…that…when he got to come home to Yelina at night. YELINA. She was smart, attractive, strong…. Oh, the alcohol was definitely affecting his mood. He’d finish this drink, then head home, end this self-pity spree.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” a soft voice asked to his left.

Barba jumped; sucked into his thoughts, he didn’t hear anyone approaching him. “N-no, uh, help yourself,” he replied, turning his head slightly, but not really looking at the person. He heard the stool pull out and the person—a woman, he realized—sat down next to him.

“Whiskey and coke, please,” she ordered. The bartender nodded and went off to make her drink. There was silence, but Barba could feel her gaze on him. His heart was still racing from her surprise appearance, but now he felt his face heating slightly from her stare. “My name’s Devon, by the way.”

“Rafael.” This time, he turned and gave her a somewhat forced smile. He felt his face turn fully red as he looked her up and down, too dumbstruck to even try and hide it. Devon was, well, beautiful. She had long, brown hair cascading down her back in waves, a plain, black v-neck that hugged her curves, navy jeans, and a heavy black trench coat that she had opened once inside the heat of the bar. The simplicity of her outfit did nothing to diminish her natural beauty, and Barba didn’t really care that he was caught staring. She smiled back at him playfully, knowing full well that she had him on the ropes. Now, Barba knew that the alcohol was definitely guiding his thoughts. Maybe his bed wouldn’t be so lonely with her in it. He squashed down the thought as quickly as it appeared; he was not that type of guy. He did not just pick up random women in a bar. No more scotch for a while.

“You alright there, Rafael?” she asked slowly, letting his name dance across her tongue. His attention snapped back to the bar; at some point, the bartender had given her her drink, and he realized that he had been staring at her, mouth slightly open.

“Yeah, sorry. Just had a long day at work,” he replied, taking a sip from his drink. It was low enough now that he could easily pound it and leave if things got any more awkward. He was heavily debating it, debating just getting the hell out of there before either of them made a move.

She nodded, taking a long pull off of her drink, killing half of it in one sip. She swallowed hard, then said, “I know all about long days.” She sat for a second, eyes unfocused, staring at something only she could see. She shook herself, smiling a bit at whatever thought she had before focusing her brown eyes back on his green ones. “Did you want to talk about it?”

Barba thought for what seemed like a long time, at least to him. On one hand, it would be nice to unload some stress onto a stranger. But on the other hand, he was a pretty private man; he didn’t like discussing cases or work with others, especially such a nasty one. Ramirez was one of the worst he’d seen and…wait a minute. It hit him then and he gave the woman a sideways glance; who was this woman? Why did she suddenly appear when he was alone, drinking, and asking him personal questions? Did…did she possibly work for Ramirez? Was she here to threaten him, hurt him…kill him?

Barba pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the blank screen. “Actually,” he started, slamming his drink, “I just got a call I have to take. It was nice meeting you.” He reached into his wallet, grabbed more than enough for his drinks, and dropped the money onto the counter. He didn’t carry any weapons, and he wasn’t much of a fighter. So, he kept his phone in his hand as he gathered his things. He had Liv’s number pulled up so that he could call her if anything happened; it was the only plan he could think of. He gave Devon—if that was her real name—a tight smile before turning and rushing to the door. Just find a cab, just find a cab, he thought. He figured that if there wasn’t one right outside the bar, then he only had to make it the two blocks to the courthouse to find one. There were always taxis on the main roads, and he was hoping that he could outrun the woman, even in his expensive court suit and dress shoes.

He made it outside and took a deep breath. The cold air stung his lungs, but he was used to New York’s frigid nights; it brought his mind back, sobering him up. There were no taxis in sight, so he quickly started to make his way to the main road. He thought he heard footsteps behind him, but he waved it off as being paranoid; no one was after him, surely. This was all an illusion, brought on by stress and adrenaline. But as he passed a dimly lit alley, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was spun around, then felt a hard hit to his cheek. It all happened so fast, he didn’t even catch a glimpse of who hit him, let alone know what hit him. He stumbled backwards towards the alley, dropping his case and his phone. Pure fear rushed through him, and he threw up his arms in a defensive position.

Flanagan’s Bar

Wednesday, January 26th. 9:45pm

Devon waited to make sure that she was right. She watched the man—Rafael—make his hasty exit, then looked over at the two men who were sitting a little way away from her. Just as she thought, they got up, and started to follow Rafael out. She let out a sigh.

As soon as she had come into the bar, she noticed the tension in the room. Those two men, both Hispanic and wearing similar outfits, had been watching Rafael with such disdain that she knew they were there for him. By the look of the two, they were probably apart of the same gang. And by the look of the suit and the scotch that the man at the bar was drinking, he probably worked for the government. Seeing as this was a notorious cop bar, and that two gang members decided to actually stake someone out in it, Devon put her money on police commissioner, or lawyer. Of course, this happens the first night out after a three-year stint in undercover. And of course, there were no cops in sight. In a fucking cop bar. She just wanted to decompress, have a drink and just relax; she may have been back for a week, but she was just finally feeling up for hitting the town again. Though, she did enjoy the short conversation she had with the flustered, yet handsome, man at the bar. If the circumstances were just a little different, a little simpler, maybe they could have helped each other relax. Oh well. Still a chance for that, Devon thought, ignoring the fact that he seemed to freak out, citing a fake phone call to leave abruptly.

She waited for the two men to stand and head towards the door before she, too, stood, pulling out some crumpled bills and paid for her half-drunk drink. By the time she left the bar, the two men were hot on Rafael’s heels, though he didn’t seem to notice—there was a thin layer of snow on the ground that muffled their footsteps slightly. She realized that there was no time to warn him, so she took off after them instead, careful to not slip on the icy ground, silently thankful that she wore her snow boots. She opened her mouth to yell a warning anyways but was too late; the taller of the men grabbed Rafael by the shoulder, turned him, and punched him in the face. Rafael stumbled to the side, into a dark alley, dropping his attaché and phone as he struggled to stay on his feet.

What is this, a tv show? Devon thought. The two men had followed him into the alley by the time Devon caught up with them. Rafael had his arms up in a mock defense position—in reality, he wouldn’t stop a toddler from punching him--and the two men were descending upon him quickly.

“Hey, mind if I join in?” Devon called in a loud voice. Look at me, she practically screamed. The two men whipped around; the one who had not hit Rafael had a pocketknife gripped in his hand. Seeing as he had a weapon, and was closest to Devon, she set her attention on him. He lunged sloppily towards her with the knife—has this guy even held a knife before?—which she easily blocked. She grabbed his wrist and slammed it against one of the brick alley walls, forcing him to drop the knife. She then brought her knee up into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Using his forward momentum, she punched him in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. He fell onto his back, gasping for air. The other man looked to his prone buddy at his feet, then back to Devon, but it was too late; he had left himself open by hesitating. She kicked him in his ribs, sending him into a wall. Then she grabbed his head and slammed it into the wall, not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough that he wasn’t getting back up.

Rafael stood in disbelief, mouth hanging open, dropping his arms to his sides, and looked at the bodies around him, then at Devon. “You alright?” she asked, pulling her coat tightly around her in the cold.

“Y-yeah,” he replied. “Just…just a long day.”

Devon chuckled, then led him out of the alleyway and over to his fallen attaché and phone. She picked them up and handed them to him. “I’m serious, though. Do you need me to take you to the hospital? Or call someone for you?” She grabbed his chin, examining his cheek in the light of the streetlamp.

“No, no, I’m fine.” He pulled out of her grip, cheeks red not entirely from the cold, and looked back to the alley. He ignored the jolt of electricity he felt from the soft touch of her skin. “Should we call an ambulance for them, though? You went a little hard on them.”

“Hard on them? They attacked you, screw them,” she replied, then saw the alarm in his eyes. Right, most people would call for help, even if they attacked him first. “Oh, they’ll be fine. If anything, I should call the cops and have them arrested.” When Rafael didn’t respond, she asked, “why were those guys after you, anyways?”

Devon could see him thinking through his answer carefully. “I think it may be work related,” he finally said.

She didn’t push it; she doubted he’d elaborate anyways. “At least let me walk you to somewhere safer than here.” Rafael didn’t want to voice his objections from the bar, especially after the display in the alley, and so they made their way to the main street, Devon walking a little too close to him. To protect him, she told herself, ignoring the side of her that remarked how attractive this man was. Her heart was still beating fast, though from the fight or from examining his face in the light, she wasn’t sure. She thought about giving him her card with her number on it…for protection…but realized she hadn’t restocked her pockets with them since coming back to New York. Oh well…. Once on the main street, Rafael hailed a cab, and Devon didn’t leave until he had gotten in, thanked her awkwardly, and then disappeared down the street. God, I missed this city, Devon thought. Wish I got in that cab with him, though. Now alone, she headed back to that alley to see if she couldn’t get some answers from the two hitmen. Though, by the time she made it back to the alley, the men were gone, the only sign of them was their footprints all over each other in their scramble to run.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Wednesday, January 26th. 10:37pm

“I’m telling you, they were working for Ramirez. Probably some low-level Aces,” Barba said into his phone. He made it into his loft, had locked the door, and instantly called Olivia. Even though he couldn’t see her, he knew the expression Liv had; worry, concern, and yet hard determination, her Sergeant side taking over.

“I’ll put an unmarked on your block tonight. We may be stretched a little thin here, but I can give you Amaro or Rollins tomorrow morning, then have them switch shifts at lunch,” Liv replied.

“I’ll take the car tonight, though I doubt they will strike again so soon. And I should be safe at the office and courthouse; too many witnesses.” Barba moved to his freezer, taking an ice pack out. His cheek was killing him, and he winced when he put the cold plastic on it. He slowly made his way to the hallway bathroom to examine himself. I can’t believe I got sucker punched….

“I can have a detective escort you to and from work, keep the uni’s there at night.”

Liv always had an answer for everything. But Barba was never a man to live in fear; he figured that he could simply carry pepper spray or a stun gun and be fine. Now that he knew the Aces were after him, he wouldn’t get jumped again. Plus, Olivia was going to have every precinct after this gang; they’d be rounded up in no time. “I’ll be fine, Liv.”

He could hear her winding up for an argument, one he was determined not to lose. Perhaps sensing this, Liv blew out a long breath. “I’ll have Amaro there, first thing in the morning. Please, for my sake, take the ride.”

Barba sighed. “Fine, but I don’t need a babysitter while at work.” She reluctantly agreed—he had a point about too many witnesses--then said her goodbyes before hanging up. Barba looked into the mirror in his bathroom, gently fingering the bruised skin under his right eye. There was no covering it—he didn’t know how anyways—so that would be some awkward conversations tomorrow. Hopefully he could glare hard enough that no one would ask. He put the icepack back on the spot, wincing again at the pain. He had no idea how he was going to sleep tonight. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, especially after recounting the event to Liv. He also wished that he had thanked Devon more—she may not have realized it, but she most likely just saved his life. But one question kept coming back, swimming through the thoughts racing through his mind: who was that woman?

Apartment of Devon Motely

Thursday, January 27th. 7:08am

Devon woke up after a much-needed deep sleep, one she hadn’t had for years. There was nothing quite like sleeping in your own bed to make you feel refreshed. She had been out-of-state for three years, in the life of a made-up woman, in a house that was not hers, talking to people she didn’t know. And while the FBI had people come in a day before she was home, to clean all the dust off the furniture and wash the sheets, it was still weird to be somewhere “new.” There was a peacefulness she gained from being in her home—not just an apartment, but home—but it was still a little jarring coming back to reality. Not to mention the three-hour time difference between here in New York, and where she had been in California. Her sleep schedule in California wasn’t normal, but it made NYC seem a little better; waking up at 7am meant she was a go-getter…just ignore the fact that a week ago, that was 4am. She has spent the whole week home attempting to stay awake later, but it wasn’t happening; she slept when it was dark out, and with the city’s tall buildings, nighttime was earlier than that of the sunny West Coast.

Devon had already spent a couple months with the Fed’s shrink, both in the California branch and her home doctor, and was cleared to work. But her boss knew better, giving her three more months to decompress and return to normal. Not that she was complaining; she had never been undercover for that long before, and it took a bigger toll on her than she thought it would. The hardest part about getting back to normal was picking up her gym routine again; the first day was hell. She wasn’t out-of-shape, but she was definitely out of gym shape. And at first, she was happy when the first day was over, the burn a reminder of where she could grow. That happiness disappeared on the second day of gym. After this week, though, Devon was glad to find her body getting back into the motion of things.

After a long shower, she made her way to her closet. Even after a week of being back, she was still excited to put on some of her own clothes again; her last alias had a decent sense of style but was definitely not her. The college student’s style was oversized hoodies, too-tight shirts, and skinny jeans, while the Madam’s style was skimpy dresses and heavy makeup. Devon’s style, however, was practical; you never know when you may have to kick some ass—as evident with the events from the night before--or deal with a hostage situation. She almost always wore loose-fitting jeans, strong but mobile, and plain, scoop-neck shirts that fit perfectly; low enough to show a hint of cleavage--if only she had a dollar for every perp that hesitated from such a small distraction as a hint of skin--but comfortable enough to run, jump, climb, or whatever else her job required of her. She knew that she fit society’s standards of beauty, but as long as that was true, then it was a weapon she could use to her advantage.

While happy for her own home and clothes, nothing made her more excited than having her personal phone back. She couldn’t risk taking it with her last case—she was given a cell phone for her cover--so she had left it behind. But when she had come back from her trip, she found that couldn’t turn it back on. After a day of fidgeting with it, she had no other choice than to ask for help. Because it had sensitive information on it, she could only ask the FBI techs to fix it for her, something that was not high on the list of priorities for them. She only picked it up last night, after the bar fight—alley fight?—and was too tired to bother with it. Now, she held the power button, smiling as the screen turned on. It wasn’t like she was expecting much in terms of texts or calls; she only had a couple friends, friends who had known she was going undercover, but she wanted to meet up with them immediately to catch up, maybe even warn them about the man who was jumped last night. Even though her boss, Assistant Director Thomas Jenkins, gave her time off, she knew that 1) her boredom would quickly take over and 2) she’d get dragged into something anyways. She always did, especially with her friends being SVU detectives.

Her phone finally loaded, and she noticed that she had two unread texts. Curious, she clicked on them. They were both from the same person; Detective Olivia Benson. She opened them, read them, then sat for a moment, trying to figure out her emotions.

Happy Birthday! sent January 1, 2011 12:00am

I know you’re undercover and won’t see this until much later, but I wish you were here right now. I really need to talk to you. Elliot is gone. sent August 26, 2011 3:08am

The first text pulled on Devon’s heartstrings; she had forgotten how a simple birthday message could make her feel cared about—it was a rare enough occurrence. But that second message made her feel such a heavy amount of confusion, guilt, and sadness. She wasn’t here for her best friend when she needed her most, whether undercover or not. If she had known, she would have called instantly. And what did she mean Elliot is gone? Did he retire? Did he finally transfer out of SVU? Or was it worse; was he killed on the job? Devon clicked the dial button, determined to talk to Liv.

The phone only rang once. “Dev? Is that really you?” was Olivia’s greeting, her voice surprised and hopeful.

“Hey Olivia. Yeah, it’s me. I’m back in town. Can we meet up?” Devon thought it better to talk in person about this, seeing as the text was from over two years ago, barely a year into her UC case.

“Of course. Why don’t you come down to the precinct?”

“I’ll be there in 10,” Devon replied. She hung up and looked around her room. She had a grip that she tended to keep stocked with clothes and essentials, just in case. After waffling about it, she decided to take it with her—if Stabler really was killed, she’d make sure the bastard paid, if Liv hadn’t beaten her to it. She had packed it the day after arriving home, so it was ready to go except for one thing. She grabbed her work laptop and charger, and threw them in the grip before zipping it closed. Last but not least, she grabbed her badge, gun, and her throwing knife that she strapped to the outside of her left thigh—ol’ reliable, as she liked to call it.

SVU Department

Thursday, January 27th. 9:30am

As predicted, it took Devon 9 minutes to get to the 16th precinct, and another minute to make it to SVU. The officers gave her alarmed looks when they saw her with her bulging grip thrown over her shoulder. She flashed her badge but was still shocked when no one attempted to apprehend her; she didn’t recognize any of the officers, but maybe Olivia gave them a head’s up. She took a breath once in the SVU precinct, her shoulders relaxing—a second home when she was in New York. She looked to Liv’s desk, but noticed a man with dark hair sitting there. Noticing her stare, he looked up.

“May I help you?” he asked. Instead of answering, Devon looked at the desk that should’ve been Stabler’s, but saw that it was empty, leaving a heaviness in the pit of her stomach. Now feeling unsettled, she looked to Munch’s desk but saw a blonde woman giving Devon an equally confused look. She vaguely noticed the man reaching for his gun.

“Holy shit, Devon?” a familiar voice said. Devon turned to see Fin coming from the coffeemaker, cup in hand.

Devon felt the tension melt away. “Wow, Fin. I leave for three years and you guys change the whole force?”

He pulled her in for an awkward, half-hug, shocking the other detectives, and said, “it is good to see you, Dev. I thought we may have lost another one.”

By this time, the not-Stabler and not-Munch came over. “Uh, I’m Detective Nick Amaro, and this is Detective Amanda Rollins,” the man said, extending his hand.

Devon shook both of their hands. “I’m Senior Special Agent Devon Motely,”—she saw Fin’s eyebrows raise at the new title—"and as fun as it is to catch up and meet new people, I’m actually here to see Detective Benson.”

“You mean Sergeant Benson,” Fin corrected.

“Sergeant? Now this I gotta see,” Devon said, smiling broadly.

As if on cue, Olivia Benson came out of the captain’s office. “Devon Motely. It is so good to see you.”

Devon pulled away from the other detectives and made her way to Olivia. She gave her a big hug, saying “it’s good to see you, too. Can we talk in private?” Devon could still feel the other detective’s gazes on her back, hear their murmuring.

“Of course,” Liv said. But instead of going to one of the interrogation rooms, as per usual, she led Devon into the office. Devon saw that the décor had changed since the last time she was there, but the biggest change was that the plaque on the desk didn’t say Captain Cragen, but instead read Sgt. Olivia Benson.

“Cragen is gone, too? This is your office?” Devon blurted out. Olivia closed the door behind her, then went to sit behind the desk, motioning Devon to sit across from her.

“Cragen is gone,” she confirmed. “And Munch, and Elliot, too.” She then spent the next hour detailing everything that had happened to the three officers. Devon was relieved to hear that all were still alive, just retired. Again, she felt a pang of guilt and wished that she was there to help them through all the craziness that Olivia outlined. Though she was an FBI agent, Devon had a soft spot for the SVU team; she helped them whenever she could with things that were too…much for the four detectives and captain. Then, Liv started on what she had been going through, recounting her troubles with William Lewis, her relationship with detective Cassidy, their bad luck with ADA’s—“though, we have a good one, now. Hopefully he stays on”—and ended on a short, but informative, description of both of the new detectives.

Devon listened intently, and once she was done talking, she sat in silence for a moment, taking everything in. Her guilt was mounting new heights; while she was fucking around in California, her best friend was going through some of the worst experiences of her life. Then, she asked in a low voice, “do you want me to deal with Lewis?”

Olivia caught her meaning, shaking her head. “No, no, it’s fine. He’s not an issue anymore; he’ll be in jail for life.”

Devon nodded. “That just makes it easier to get rid of him. If you ever want me to, I want to be your first call.”

Ignoring what Devon just implied, Liv changed the subject. “So, tell me about your adventures in San Francisco.” Devon’s demeanor changed from plotting murder to one of exhaustion. She let out a sigh, then recounted her three-year UC case in California. She had been posing as a college student by day, and a Madam at night. She worked her way through parties meeting girls, then pimps, then finally, the pimp’s bosses. She felt terrible about the things she had to do; selling girls, drugs, and much worse. She was happy to be back here, where she didn’t have to fake having an interest in those types of things, where she could just arrest the bastards instead of joining them.

“So, when I turned on my phone today, I saw your text. I know that it was from a while ago, and that you are probably over it by now, but I thought I’d still check in on you,” Devon concluded. In her retelling of the last three years, she had completely forgotten about the attractive man in a suit at the bar the night before.

A wave of emotions flashed through Olivia’s eyes, though she kept her face mostly neutral. “You know, I felt terrible about sending that text to you. I knew you didn’t have your phone, and in a moment of—of emotional weakness, I sent it. And it’s not fair to you that I did that. But at the time, I thought that maybe, just maybe, you were able to see it and talk to me, to help me through that time. To let me vent and talk, even if you couldn’t reply, but just to have someone listen.” Olivia had tears in her eyes, which she quickly blinked away. “I also meant to text you again, but any time I opened our conversation, I would see that last message I sent. And I’d feel the guilt all over again.”

Feeling emotional herself, Devon replied, “I’m not mad or upset; I get it Liv, I really do.” Devon put her hands on the desk, palms up. Olivia placed her hands gently into Devon’s, and the agent started rubbing comforting circles into the back of Liv’s hands with her thumbs. “And I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me most. It must have been so, so hard for you to lose Stabler after so long. Do you keep in touch with him at all?”

Liv shook her head. “No, no. In the beginning, I thought about it. At night, when I couldn’t sleep, or when a nightmare would rip me awake before dawn. But I knew that it was for the best, for both of us, to just…cut all ties to him.”

Devon let the silence drag on for a little, continuing to rub little circles in the Sergeant’s skin, letting the conversation rest. “Well, I’m back for the foreseeable future. And I got promoted. And my boss even gave me three months off, if you can believe that!” she let out a laugh, trying to break the tension. They released each other’s hands, the moment over. “Plus, look at you! A Sergeant, and in the big boss’s office, no less.”

Liv smiled and opened her mouth to answer, when her phone lit up, vibrating on her desk. “Benson,” she answered, holding up a finger to Devon. Devon waited patiently while whoever was on the other line talked her ear off. “What? When?” Liv waited a second, “okay, I’ll be right there. I think I have someone that you should meet,” her eyes locked with Devon’s, “just stay there.” With that, she hung up, rubbed her temples for a moment, then got up and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair.

Devon stood up quickly. “What happened? Everything okay?”

“Uh, about that time off that your boss gave you—”

Devon cut her off, “what do you need me for?” Devon was nothing if not loyal.

Olivia smirked. “How about a 24/7 protection detail, overseeing a sarcastic, pain-in-the-ass that we lovingly call our ADA?”

Devon had a rush of thoughts in the matter of seconds—spending 24/7 with someone she didn’t know, on alert at all waking hours, her exhaustion since just getting home, plus Olivia’s description of the victim—but she still said, “whatever you need.” She was glad to help Liv, especially to make up for the past three years, whether Liv thought Devon needed to make up for lost time or not. And with the sudden rush of adrenaline, she could feel her exhaustion ebbing away. Plus, what else were friends for?

“Thank you so much. Come on, I’ll explain everything on the way.”

Courthouse

Thursday, January 27th. 11:16am

As Olivia, Devon, and Detective Amaro, who was grabbed on the way out, pulled up to the courthouse, Devon summarized the conversation of the car ride. “So, let me get this straight; you and Rollins took down a gang leader, with this ADA Barba, pushing him into jail for life, and now the gang has a target on all of your backs? No offense, but why not just let me take down the gang instead of posting me up with an attorney?” She grabbed her grip out of the trunk and followed Liv and Amaro to the stairs.

Liv scoffed. “Because Barba was attacked in a crowded courthouse, with unis posted at every door, and yet someone was able to sneak in, armed with a pistol, and take aim at our ADA.” Liv saw that Devon was gearing up to argue more, but she cut her off, “look, we’re all covered at SVU; we already have leads on some of the big hitters in the Aces. And it would really help if I had someone that I could trust watching Barba so that I, or any of the other detectives, don’t have to.” She had a point, so Devon kept her mouth shut. Olivia wasn’t one to suggest things of importance without a reason.

They made their way up the stairs, past the cops that were mulling around, talking about whatever they were talking about, and into the courthouse. The crime scene wasn’t hard to find; it was roped off with caution tape and there were cops everywhere. Devon looked at the wall next to where they were congregating and saw two bullet holes in the concrete. She noticed a couple things at once; no blood, no EMTs, no CSU, which all adds up to no victim. Good, the perp missed his target—no doubt this ADA Barba that Liv was having Devon watch. Devon knew that he was alive—Olivia wouldn’t have brought her to watch him if he wasn’t here—but no one else was injured, either.

“What happened here?” Amaro asked an officer. He gave him a rundown of the facts; a young, white man walked towards Barba while he was on his way to court. He reached into his pocket; unis saw him as he raised the gun. One cop yelled a warning, tackling Barba out of the way, while the other cop on the door took down the man. He got two shots off but missed his mark, striking the wall. The cops arrested him and escorted Barba to his office down the street to await Liv’s arrival after he was cleared from EMTs; no injuries besides a bruised ego.

Gaining all the information they needed, Devon followed the sergeant and detective out, then down the street to 1 Hogan Place. Once inside the DA’s building, they made their way to the elevator. As the doors closed, Devon asked Liv, “hey, are you and Rollins safe? Are you sure there’s not a hit out on you, too?”

“Neither of us have been alone since Barba was attacked earlier. We’re not taking any chances on this one. This is why I need someone I can trust watching Barba; I can’t spare any manpower on it, and god knows we don’t need the Feds tied up in this.” Well, that explained Amaro hovering over Liv’s shoulder, like a bodyguard.

Devon sighed, “yeah, I hear you. But I want to be kept in the loop; names, faces, tattoos, anything and everything. I want to be able to pick out one of these jerks before they have a shot at Barba.”

“Of course,” Liv replied. The elevator doors opened, and they briskly walked to Barba’s office. There were four cops posted outside the door, which was shut. Liv nodded first to the frazzled-looking paralegal seated at her desk, then to the officers, and they moved to allow the three of them in.

“Barba, are you alright?” Liv asked when she saw him, pacing in front of his desk restlessly.

“I’m fine. But I want that bastard arraigned today, and then I have a case that I’m late for already, but these idiots aren’t letting me leave. I need to—” Barba’s outburst was cut short when he saw Devon, who also froze.

Following his line of sight, Liv said, “right, ADA Rafael Barba, this is Senior Special Agent Devon Motely. Devon, this is Barba.”

Barba swallowed past the lump in his throat, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, we’ve met before,” he said, eyes never leaving Devon’s.

It was Amaro’s turn to speak. He grinned in disbelief, “what? When?”

“Last night. In a dingy bar and then again in a dark alley,” Devon answered, making Amaro’s eyebrows raise. If she wasn’t still in such shock, she would’ve shot him a glare.

Liv’s eyes widened. “You’re the one that stopped those men from assaulting Barba? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“One, I didn’t know that was the ‘earlier attack’ you mentioned until just now. And two, he introduced himself as Rafael. I didn’t know his last name or his profession,” Devon explained, before muttering, “glad to see I was already doing this job before I knew it.”

Barba took this time to mentally collect himself, finally ripping his eyes away from the agent and furrowing his brow at Olivia. “Job, what job?”

Liv looked back to him. “Look Barba, I know that last night, you denied having protection. But after this, you need to have someone watching your back.”

“No, I don’t need a babysitter watching me, especially FBI. Why are the Feds even getting involved—”

“Barba look around! You were almost shot outside of a courtroom. You got lucky that he missed. You are going to have protection until this is over,” Olivia ordered.

Barba scoffed. “Over? Do you think that this is just going to go away in a day or two? That if you arrest one or two of these bastards that they’ll back off? I’m not living in fear, Olivia.”

“I know, I know,” Liv adopted her calm, quiet voice that she used with victims, “but I’m not letting you get killed over this. Devon is good; she’s willing to stay for the long haul.”

“Can you not talk about me like I’m not here, please?” Devon piped in. Barba rolled his eyes and plopped down behind his desk, running his hands through his hair roughly, while Liv huffed out a heavy sigh and Amaro stood to the side awkwardly, watching this all play out. “Look, I may just be the ‘babysitter,’ but I’m not working as FBI for this. This is a favor for Liv. Besides, I’ve done this before. Barba, you have nothing to worry about; I’ll be a shadow. You don’t need to talk to me, you don’t need to look at me, you don’t even need to acknowledge that I’m there. I’ll just be your bodyguard.”

“I. Don’t. Need. A bodyguard,” he said through gritted teeth. He slammed his hands down on his desk in frustration, exhaling through flared nostrils.

Liv and Devon exchanged a look. Liv nodded. Perfect, play hardball, Devon’s favorite.

“Fine, I’ll say this in terms you will understand, counselor. As Sergeant Benson said, I am good; you saw that last night. So, whether you like it or not, you will be under my protection until Sergeant Benson says otherwise. You may try, but you will not be able to lose me. I’m going to stay on you, make sure you are protected from all attacks, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” Barba opened his mouth, but Devon pressed on, “now, you can make this easier on yourself. Allow me to do my job, allow me to help you, and I will be as I said before, a shadow. Or fight me on this, and I’ll be the biggest thorn in your side. It’s up to you, Mr. Barba.”

Barba gave an impressive glare, aimed at Liv before turning those bright green eyes onto Devon. He seemed to be working through his thoughts, debating on if this fight was worth it. Apparently, it wasn’t, because he huffed angrily and spat out, “fine. But as soon as this is over, I better never see you again.”

“Deal,” Devon said, smirking.

Liv grinned, looking slightly amused, glancing at the both of them. “Well, I’m glad that’s taken care of. Keep me updated.” Still sporting matching smirks, Amaro and Olivia turned to leave, the latter shooting Devon an apologetic smile. Thanks, Liv, she thought ruefully, wondering if she bit off more than she could chew this time.

Once alone, Devon looked at Barba, who had his head in his hands. “Would you like me to sit across from you, or against the wall behind you?”

Barba didn’t even look up from his desk that he was currently staring a hole through. “I thought I didn’t have to talk to you?”

“And I thought you had a court appointment?” She shot back, shrugging out of her jacket easily, tossing it to the couch, making herself at home.

Barba looked up then. He looked at Devon, really looked, as if he hadn’t seen her yet. She was just as beautiful as she was last night; she was tall, fit, well dressed. In the light of day, he could see the corded muscle in her arms and neck. But her image was tainted in his mind now; he didn’t want someone having to watch his back, even if it was a logical move, something he wouldn’t admit. He knew that Liv had his best interests in mind, and he did feel slightly safer having an FBI agent assigned to him, not that he would admit it out loud. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman had somehow betrayed him. Even if she had saved him the night before, these attacks didn’t happen until she showed up into his life. Which wasn’t fair to her—it was because of the Aces and Ramirez, Barba knew—but he couldn’t separate the events in his mind.

“I got a text from the judge during your…speech. It got pushed to tomorrow, 9am.”

Devon thought for a moment before asking, “do you have any more court appearances today? Or any meetings?”

“No. I plan on being here in my office the rest of the day, prepping the four cases I now have tomorrow.” With that, Barba pulled out some paperwork and a couple of law books. Taking the hint that the conversation was over, Devon pulled one of the chairs from in front of his desk and pushed it to the side of his desk, enough space between it and the desk that she’d be directly in Barba’s blind spot. Before sitting, however, she walked over to the windows and pulled down the blinds, making the office a bit darker, but making it so no one could look in—even though they weren’t on the ground level, Devon didn’t want any unwanted attention from surrounding buildings. She looked at the closed door, seeing that the unis from earlier were still posted outside; four of them, two on each side. She wondered how long they’d stay before they made excuses to leave. Satisfied, she walked back to the chair she had moved and took a seat.

Devon looked sideways at Barba, trying to figure him out; he seemed like just a normal dude last night, albeit a little awkward, flustered even. A normal dude in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, though, she wasn’t so sure. He had an explosive anger—though that was a pretty normal reaction that people had when they had a bodyguard forced onto them, let alone a couple attempts on their life—but going by the fight, or lack thereof, he was all bark and no bite. But she couldn’t be sure of that, either. She had met previous ADAs that worked with SVU. And while Devon wouldn’t exactly call them fighters in the physical sense, they did know their way around a courtroom. And if Olivia liked him, then she was sure that Barba probably wasn’t that bad of a guy…and he also probably knew how to win convictions as well.

Devon then wondered how she had gotten here. Two weeks ago, she was in California; she was working as a madam, working her way through the ranks up a huge sex trafficking ring. Two weeks ago, she was pinning down a high-ranking trafficker, one in charge of bringing in all the girls for eight different brothels. Two weeks ago, the madam was arrested, as was almost everyone involved in the trafficking and brothels, and Devon was snuck out of the state.

Last week, she was in therapy, spilling everything that had happened, and her feelings on the matter, to a therapist, who actually deemed her as “mentally sound” after only four days. And then, she was back in New York. She had done her normal prep after getting home; she had a debrief with her boss, a check in with the shrink here, she unpacked and repacked her two-week grip, she dismantled, cleaned, and reassembled her guns—her normal glock and her drop gun--and she sharpened her knives. She went to get a drink, something that was denied to her for over three years, and something that she needed so that she could simply relax for the first time since she left. Then that man, sitting right in front of her, was at the bar. He was trouble; she knew from the moment she walked in and saw those two men—Aces—targeting him. But just how much trouble, she had no idea. She got into a fight, if you can call it that, and then heard how her best friend’s entire life had basically completely changed. And now, she was ripped out of her life before it even got a chance to be normal again.

“If you have a question, just ask, instead of staring at me the whole time you’re here,” Barba said dryly.

Devon started; she didn’t even notice she was staring. She cleared her throat. “I do have a question, actually.” Barba stopped scribbling, putting his pen down and looked at her, mildly annoyed. “Has your home been compromised?”

He sighed, picking his pen back up and looking at the notepad once more, clearly not taking her seriously. “Not as far as I’m aware.”

“Okay, that’s good. Even so, we should think about it as if it has been. There’re three options; one, we stay at your place with some extra precautions. Two, I set up a third-party place, like a hotel; don’t worry about cost, I’ll cover it. Or three, we stay at my place.” Barba raised an eyebrow. “Keep your mind out of the gutter; I have a guest room and two bathrooms. I also have extra security on my doors and windows that I had installed.”

“I’d rather stay in my own home, thank you,” he replied, not catching the fact that she had said ‘we.’ He continued writing, clearly done with the conversation. Smiling to herself, Devon pulled her laptop out of her grip and opened it. This ADA was headstrong, like most ADAs assigned to SVU, but she already liked him for some reason. She wasn’t sure why quite yet, but she learned to trust the instinct. Once connected to the internet, she got started on her own work.

Office of Rafael Barba

1 Hogan Place

Thursday, January 27th. 9:15pm

By the time Barba had finished for the night, well, as much as he was going to do, it was dark outside. He looked at the clock, sighing at the late time; he always tried to be out of the office by 7 at the latest, but time had gotten away from him, especially since his mind was rattled. It was harder to focus on the cases after everything that had happened the past two days, plus the extra day he was granted for the case that was pushed just made him more stressed. He sighed again, feeling the pressure that tomorrow would be. Then, he cleared his desk, pushing papers into his briefcase in an order that only he understood. He stood and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. He heard the sound of a laptop closing and jumped, startled.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Devon said, placing her laptop in her bag and zipping it up. How did he forget that she was there?

“Sorry, I forgot you were checking Facebook all day,” he replied, rolling his eyes, trying to slow his racing heart. It was only a laptop closing. Get a grip on yourself, he thought, chiding himself. Devon slung her grip over her shoulder but said nothing, a small smile on her lips. Barba put on his jacket and walked to the door. Devon was there instantly; she gently put her hand on his stomach and nudged him away from the door. Barba rolled his eyes again, annoyed at the theatrics, as she opened the door, checking every direction for anything out of the ordinary. The unis that were posted had long since left, as had Carmen; the building was empty, silent. Devon had her gun drawn and motioned for Barba to follow her.

“Is this all necessary?” he asked sardonically. Even with his tone, however, he stuck close to her.

“Honestly? Probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful,” she replied. They made their way quickly through the DA’s building, Devon checking every corner and hallway, Barba thinking it ridiculous, over-the-top. “Did you drive here, by the way? Or should I order a rideshare?”

“I was dropped off by Detective Amaro this morning,” Barba said. “Seems Olivia doesn’t want me to be alone since last night.”

“I’d ask why Amaro didn’t stay with you, but if your outburst from earlier is any indication, I think I know the answer.”

Barba bristled, but said nothing. They both made it in and out of the elevator, then to the double doors leading outside. Devon stopped him, opened the door a smidge, and examined outside. After a moment, she opened the door wider, slipping out, but still motioning for Barba to stay put. Huffing, he opened the other door and walked out into the brisk night air, making his way to the street.

“Fucking really?” Devon asked, hurrying to catch up to him. There were no immediate dangers around, just a few stragglers walking down the darken streets, so Devon pointed her gun to the ground, more discreet this way.

“Come on Motely, you’ve seen how unorganized the Aces’ have been in their attempts on my life. I highly doubt there would be one waiting outside the DA’s building, especially this late. Probably got too bored waiting for me to come out.”

Devon made it to the curb, hailing a cab, thinking it safer and faster than waiting for a rideshare. As one pulled over to admit them, she said, “they’ve failed twice now, attacking you while you were at a bar and while you were in the courthouse. Honestly, they may be getting angrier or worse, desperate. So yes, I will expect them outside your place of work, along with at your home, the grocery store you shop at, and any other place you may frequent, no matter what time it is.” They both got in, Devon forcing Barba to sit behind the taxi driver—harder for the driver to attack directly behind himself—while she took the other backseat. “Besides, I’d rather be safe than sorry. And I think Liv may actually kill me if you were to get hurt on my watch.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with,” he smirked. Barba knew he was being difficult, and he wasn’t entirely sure why; there had been two attempts on his life in two days, one that left an angry red mark on his face that everyone was too smart, or scared, to ask about, and another that still makes his heart beat faster when he thinks of it, the sound of the gunshots still echoing in his mind. Now that he had time to sit and think about it, he thought that his anger was a mix of stress from his job—he was doing four cases at once, two of which were tough cases to begin with—and a fear that someone actually took a hit out on him. He’d been an ADA for over a decade; he’s gotten multiple threats, everything from violence to him and/or his family to death threats. But this was the first time someone had actually tried to follow through with it. He sighed, deciding to not take his emotional outrage out on Motely; it wasn’t her fault that she got lumped into this. He had to check his rage, especially now when any mistake could be the difference between living his life and being six feet under.

“Can you give me a quick layout of your place?” Devon asked, jolting Barba out of his thoughts. He agreed, spending the rest of the drive filling in the broad details of his loft; it was smaller than he would like, to be honest, but it was cheaper and close to the courthouse. He had a full floor to himself; a living room, kitchen, two bathrooms—though one was a master bathroom connected to the master bedroom—and two bedrooms. There were only windows in the living room and the master bedroom, the fire escape outside the bedroom window.

The cab pulled to the curb; Devon paid the driver, then followed Barba up the couple steps to the glass door of the building. He opened it, and she followed him in, to the elevator, then down the short hallway to the front door of his loft. She allowed him to unlock the door and walk into the living room before stopping him. She took off her grip and placed it on a couch—there was only a loveseat and an armchair around a coffee table--locked the front door, then unholstered her gun once more.

“Anything out of place?” she asked, not looking at him but rather looking down the hallway to the master bedroom, watching the dark doors lining the walls. There wasn’t much to check in the living room; besides the couch, chair, and table, Barba had a simple TV stand with a TV on it, two bookshelves side-by-side, filled mostly with law books and other scholarly literature he kept from college, and a few, minimalistic wall art hangings. He wasn’t a home designer, and he was hardly home as it was, so he never felt the need to decorate. Once he declined, Devon said, “okay good. Now, place your whole hand on my back, and do not remove it until I say so.” Barba opened his mouth to ask, decided against it, and did as she asked.

Once Devon felt his strong hand lay hesitantly between her shoulder blades, the warmth of his skin sinking through the fabric of her shirt, she started to move through the loft. Barba missed a step, not expecting her to move. He then followed, hand staying on her muscular back. She checked every room, gun aimed at chest height, looking in the closets and under the bed, before ending in the master bedroom, announcing that the home was cleared and reholstering her gun.

“You can have your hand back,” she said while checking the locks on the windows.

“May I ask why I did that?” he asked, dropping his hand to his side. He could still feel the pull of her muscles moving under her shirt, even though he was no longer touching her. He stripped his suit jacket and tie, placed them on a hanger, and hung them on his closet door. Normally, he took it off by the front door and threw it over a chair, but something about having a guest over, especially one he didn’t know, made him want to not look like a total disaster. Though, he noticed with a hint of embarrassment, Devon did go through the guest bedroom, if you could call it that, during her sweep. That room had become a second office to Barba; it was a mess of files, papers, books, and other miscellaneous things that made no sense to anyone except Barba, though he wasn’t even sure what some of it was. There was no bed, no dressers, nothing that actually made it a bedroom. Only a small desk and a lonely desk lamp.

Devon gave him a look that said, just do what you’re told, before explaining. “Because I’ve found that it’s the easiest way to protect someone while also scanning a home. If you go in front of me, you have a chance of being assaulted if there is someone here. Likewise, if I abandoned you by the door, someone could blitz you while I’m back in the master room. It just makes sense to have you touching me, so I know you’re safe while I’m also a human shield.”

Barba didn’t want to know how many times she had failed to protect someone to have found out this method of protection. Seemingly approving of the locks on the bedroom windows, Devon moved to other rooms in the house, checking for ways to break in. Thankfully, his loft was on the 5th floor, so besides the fire escape, there wasn’t a real way to break in—unless he had some very, very determined hitman after him. After checking all the windows, she went to the front door. Unlocking it, she checked the hallway quickly before looking at the locking mechanism in the door; it had a normal deadbolt and a chain near eyelevel. There was also a peephole; otherwise, it was a normal door. She huffed when she noticed the screws holding the hinges on.

“Did you honestly move in here without changing at least the screws in the door?” she admonished.

Barba never thought about it before. “Uh, yes?” Devon shook her head.

“You should install some thicker, longer screws; makes it harder to kick your door down.” Devon then rummaged through her grip, pulling out a doorstop.

“A doorstop? Really? That will protect us if someone kicks the door down?”

Devon rolled her eyes. “Of course not. This is a screaming doorstop; once armed, if this door moves at all, that alarm will wake up the whole damn building.”

Barba looked impressed. “Why the hell do you even know about a device like that?”’

Devon laughed, “I may be an FBI agent, but I’m still a woman. Damsel in Defense is a god-send for living as a woman in the city.”

Grabbing the doorstop, she flipped a switch on it, then wedged it under the door. She then glanced at the clock on her phone, noticing it was getting close to 10pm. “Hey, it’s getting kinda late; what time do you normally go to bed?” she asked, realizing that neither of them had had dinner.

Barba looked at his watch, seemingly also unaware of the passage of time. He had to be in court at 9, which meant he had to be in his office at 7 tomorrow morning and now he was faced with the decision that he had almost every night; stay awake and work on his upcoming cases or get a decent night of sleep. He almost always chose the former, he’d just get a strong coffee or three before court tomorrow. But another part of him was desperate to be alone with his thoughts, to really absorbed the events happening in his life right now. Maybe he’d work for a little bit, then figure out a polite way to kick Motely out for the night, something he very much knew he’d fail at.

“It varies, but it’ll probably be around midnight for me tonight…hopefully,” he debated for a moment before saying, “I’m not planning on leaving at all tonight if you wanted to go sleep for a little. I’m leaving here at six tomorrow morning.”

Completely missing the hint, Devon replied, “ah, no worries. I normally go to sleep around that time, too. You won’t be bothering me at all.” To prove her point, she pulled out her laptop, plugged it in to the wall, and sat down in the armchair with it. Feeling like that was a failure to dislodge her, but unwilling to try again at this moment, Barba sighed. He pulled out the paperwork he was doing in his office, and spread it over the coffee table, taking a seat on the couch.

They worked silently for a couple hours before Barba spoke without looking up. “What are you even doing on that laptop?” As focused as he had been on his casework, the constant clicking of keys as Devon typed crept into his brain.

Devon gave him a wicked grin before she replied, “Facebook, remember?” When Barba shot back a glare, she huffed out a laugh. “I’m looking through the FBI’s database on the Aces. I want to know everything I can about them, seeing as I may have to deal with a couple of them in the coming months.”

“What have you found?” he asked, his paperwork completely forgotten. He got up, came over to the armchair, and sat on an arm, leaning in so that he could see the screen. Devon had the leader—Jorge Ramirez—on the screen, with a quick summation of his profile. She also had the two men from the alley and the man that took a shot at Barba today, whose name was Jake Peterson. He couldn’t help but notice that the two men from the alley, Jose and Rogelio Olivera, both had AT LARGE written in their profiles.

“Well, it’s a relatively small gang based in Manhattan; only 65 members, at least on file. Most are Hispanic, drug dealers, and traffickers...seems like their leader, Ramirez, was the bad one. Probably why he was the leader. Though, they do have a couple of white men hired on as frontmen; they’re the ones that sell drugs to the wealthy businessmen because, and I quote, ‘white men are more trustworthy to the rich bastards.’” They looked at each other, “hey, don’t look at me, I didn’t write it. But it makes sense; most capitalist pigs are deeply racist.”

“65 members, though? You’re right, that is small, but it will still take the cops time to catch them all,” the unsaid words hung in the air, tangible, but not claimed, it’s going to take a while for life to go back to normal.

“So far, only two are incarcerated, Jorge Ramirez and Jake Peterson. Looking through the profiles that I can pull up, it seems like only a few of them have actually murdered before, but not as an active profession. Not to get too cocky, but I think that’s a good sign for you; I should be able to take on anyone who threatens you. Unless, of course, you decide that you want to go wherever you want instead of listening to me.”

Barba flinched inwardly at the slight venom in her voice. He had to work on controlling that spite of his. “You’re right,” he said begrudgingly. “From now on, I’ll follow your lead.” He looked down at her, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

She looked up at him, returning the smile. “That’s all I can ask of you. I know it’s not an ideal situation, but I am here to help.” They sat there for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. Maybe protecting the ADA wouldn’t be too bad, maybe this wouldn’t drive a wedge between her’s and Liv’s friendship. And maybe, just maybe, they’d both get out alive at the end of this.

Barba looked into her eyes, lit by her laptop’s screen. He could listen to her, follow orders, like the good lapdog people wished he would be. He knew, deep down, that she was there to protect him; even if it was a ‘favor’ from Olivia, he could tell that Devon’s job meant a lot to her, that she was taking this seriously. He’d have to remember to thank Liv later, if he survived this. He suddenly realized that he didn’t want Devon to leave tonight; he felt safe here, in her presences.

They both seemed to notice at the same time how they were sitting; Barba had been leaning down closer to her face, and she was leaning closer to his leg, cheek almost brushing against his pantleg. He stood up, hiding the blush that spread across his cheeks as he noticed how close to his crotch she had been, how inappropriate it was. She sat up a little straighter and seemed to find her screen very interesting all of a sudden.

“Well, I think it’s about time I went to bed,” Barba said, stretching. He packed up all the papers into appropriate folders and placed them in his briefcase, so that he wouldn’t forget them in the morning.

“That’s probably a good idea. What time do you get up? Do you eat breakfast, have coffee? Anything I can help with?”

Barba was surprised by the questions. “Uh, around 5:00, no, no, and no.” Once he collected his thoughts a little, he explained, “I get up, I shower, I dress. Then I leave.”

“Simple, I like it. See you in the morning,” Devon trilled.

Confused, Barba didn’t move as Devon closed her laptop and put it on the table. She then stretched herself out on the loveseat, as much as she could since it was shorter than she was, putting her head on one of the pillows he kept on it.

“I—I take it you’re staying here tonight?” Barba asked, incredulous at her brazenness.

“Uh, yeah? You heard Sergeant Benson, I’m sure; ‘24/7 protection.’ That includes overnights, Barba.”

He felt the weight of those words; he was seriously going to be with this stranger all day, every day, for who knew how long. “I just…I didn’t expect—”

“It always catches people off guard the first night. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to me. And besides, our deal is that after the Aces are gone, you never have to see me again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to change out of these clothes.”

Barba’s face went bright red as he hurried to his room. He could swear he heard Devon chuckling as he went. After a couple moments, he heard the guest bathroom door close. Suddenly remembering his hospitality, he went to his closet, grabbing one of his extra blankets, and made his way back out to the living room. He moved quickly, suddenly embarrassed about seeing Devon in pajamas, huffing out a goodnight as he passed by the bathroom as he retreated back to his room before she had a chance to emerge. Again, he could’ve sworn he heard her laughing as he hurried by. Why was he so embarrassed?

He faintly remembered the night before, how lonely he had felt in the bar. Now that he had a roommate thrust upon him, he wasn’t sure if he liked it. Not like there was much he could do about it now. And with that thought from the night before, the other memories came back, how pretty he thought she was, how he had entertained the idea of bringing her back here, even if only for a moment—

No, he wouldn’t, couldn’t think about that, especially with her right on the other side of his bedroom door, stretched out on his couch, sleeping under his blanket. God, what was happening to him? He still didn’t even really know this woman! He had to be more careful, reign in his emotions; she was an FBI agent, assigned to him to make sure he lived through this threat on his life. Nothing more, nothing less. Though, he had to admit that she was probably going to be around for a while. Might as well get to know her, he thought ruefully. He tried not to get too excited about the thought.

#everyone deserves love #edl #everyone deserves love chapter 4 #edl ch 4 #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #barba x oc #rafael barba x oc #fanfic #my writing #this is not a sponsored ad for damsel in defense #but it is a good source of cool stuff

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