Alastorâs lips looked very soft. The air in the hotel room was very dry. The trousers heâd put on were too tight again.
Vincent laughed, a tiny, nervous laugh that didnât belong to him at all. His producers would be disgusted. His agent would dump him. He tittered like a girl.
âGeez, Al,â he said. âYou usually donât get this worked up unless somebodyâs covered in blood.â
Alastor smirked, his too-long, fang-like eye tooth poking out over his plump lower lip.
âNo need to be crass, Vincent,â Alastor said.
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summary: more than a year after the events of middle of the night, y/n and Bruce are happily engaged and working to lower the amount of crime in Gotham. However, a new killer calling himself the Riddler has other plans for their happinessâŚset during the events of the movie, mostly canonical, some changes made to fit the story
Pairing: Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley x fem!Reader
Warnings/Tags: a little bit of angst, mentions of death, reader is threatened, fluff, pining, drinking alcohol, descriptions of DID according to the comics so itâs inaccurate to real life, some explicit thoughtsÂ
Word Count:Â 10,2K
Chapter Summary:Â Steven has a day off from work because the museum is now an active crime scene. He asks you to meet up with him and that is exactly what you need. The two of you spend the day together and then one thing leads to another; you finally meet Marc Spector.
A/N: Marc Spector has entered the chat and I hope you like it!Â
Chapter 2 - âI Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Freeâ
Thick and heavy clouds weighed like a blanket above the London sky, making the morning dull and grey. Dense mist was hovering above the capital and spreading throughout every street and alley. Something told Steven it would rain any moment now but he didnât mind, this kind of weather was something he was used to. Besides, he wouldnât be outside all day anyway as he was on his way to work.Â
There was a joyous smile on his face as he made his way off the bus, you occupying his thoughts. For the past few days, you and Steven had been texting each other a lot and Steven was happier than ever. He finally had a friend. You were happy, too.
As Steven neared the mighty building, he quickly realized something was wrong. Reporters and curious people had gathered in front of the entrance and... was that law enforcement? He couldnât make sense of what the people were yelling and prying on but it sounded hectic. Reporters yelling over one another and snapping pictures or anything they deemed interesting.Â
âWhat the f-â
Somethingâs not right, Marc commented on the inside, stating the obvious.Â
âYeah, âsuppose you could say that,â Steven agreed with Marc as a sick feeling began to form in his gut. Although Steven had no clue what had happened, he couldnât help but feel anxious. Was this somehow his fault? It wouldnât be the first time the museum suffered because of him. Then again, Steven wasnât Mr Knight anymore. Marc was done with the Moon Knight business. How could this be either of their fault? It mustâve been something else.
Bright yellow barricade tape was the only thing that separated the police from the journalists that were desperate for something, anything at all they could smack on paper and sell. The tape said âdo not crossâ repeatedly yet Steven didnât know what to do. He felt so confused as he took in his surroundings, noticing the crime scene workers walking in and out of the building. In the midst of the chaos, Steven saw his manager Marieta nearby, talking to a detective. She had her arms crossed in front of her torso protectively and a crumpled- up tissue in her hand which she squeezed onto tightly, most likely due to stress.
She mustâve had answers.Â
Steven walked up to them as close as he could, now being right behind the yellow tape. Marieta noticed him and excused herself, leaving the detective alone with his notes as she walked to Steven, her many keys dangling around her neck. although much lighter now as if she had given keys to people. Now up-close Steven saw the scared look on her face, revealing that this was so much worse than just a smashed up bathroom.Â
âAre you alright?â Steven needed to know, genuinely concerned about the kind woman. He had never seen her like that before as he was used to her cheerful self at work and the encouraging words she always told him. Marieta was in all ways a better co-worker and manager than Donna had ever been. Perhaps in the beginning, she had a jump start to gain Stevenâs care because she had replaced Donna, but Steven respected the woman too. She was a good person. Besides, whenever Steven met new people, he treated them how he wished to be treated back. Better start off good, right?
âIâm fine, Steven,â Marieta was quick to let him know, âdidnât you read the group chat this morning?â
The bloody work group chat. Steven had a bad habit of not reading the messages people sent there as most of the time it wasnât work related. His phone gallery was full of otter pictures and memes. Of course, the one time there was something important in the chat, he hadnât seen it.
âNo, sorry. Whatâs going on?â Steven looked past her shoulder, catching the detective looking right at him with a blank expression. The dark sunglasses hid his eyes but Steven could feel the manâs intense gaze on him regardless.
âI donât really know. Seems like a heist but it didnât go too well. There were two bodies in there, Steven. The night guards found them and Iâve been here since. The police are trying to figure out what happened,â Marieta finally let Steven know what all this commotion was all about.
âBodies?â Steven was shocked, having expected something less serious. Now it made sense why the place was surrounded by people and cameras, why the tape surrounded the entire museum to keep people away from the active crime scene.Â
âYeah, itâs a bloody mess,â Marieta exhaled deeply, seeming tired. âAnyway you have a day off. I donât know how long weâll be closed for but Iâll keep you informed, alright?â Marieta didnât want to keep Steven there for much longer than necessary.Â
âOkay,â Steven just nodded, clutching onto the strap of his bag as he tried to wrap his mind around this.
âTake care,â Marieta reached over the barricade tape to pat Stevenâs shoulder in a friendly way.
âYou too,â Steven smiled and then watched as she walked away, returning to the detective who had been staring at Steven for a while now. Steven assumed he was just doing his job and thought nothing more of it. Not when something greater was puzzling his mind.
How did a heist gone wrong end with two dead people? If they were on the same team, who had been there there to kill them? Why did the killing happen inside the museum? Werenât heists supposed to take place over a very brief amount of time? Killing two people and stealing something in just minutes was a lot for most people.Â
âThis is strange, innit? Doesnât make much sense,â Steven thought out loud as he walked away with no true direction.Â
Itâs not our problem either, Marc reminded him. It was blunt but true. Or at least so they thought.Â
âBut why are they dead if it was just a heist?âÂ
Maybe they got greedy. Someone wanted the price all for themselves and got rid of the others, Marc suggested a possibility. He had seen so much greed and betrayal in his life that this scenario wouldnât shock him at all.
That made sense to Steven and he chose to believe Marc mustâve been right. Nonetheless, Steven couldnât ignore the feeling that told him Marc was wrong. It was as if Steven had been here in a dream - or a nightmare - and he felt guilty. Although it didnât make sense to feel that way as Steven knew nothing about this. Perhaps it was just the pain from the past talking?Â
Look at it on the bright side, you have a day off. Maybe you can spend it with your crush? Marc tried to cheer Steven up, hating it when Steven was so anxiety ridden and upset. Besides, Marc wouldâve been lying had he said he didnât want to see you again even if it was through Steven.Â
âOh shut it, will you? Sheâs not my crush. Weâre not twelve, Marc,â Steven got defensive but at least he cracked a small smile. That was much better already.
Whatever you say, buddy.
                The clock was nearing noon. Although it had only been hours since the major fuck-up at the museum, it felt like days had passed. The driver had driven you and Spencer right to the London base of the Crew of the Arcane. You had only been there once or twice before and this time you saw parts of it you didnât even know existed. Everything felt like a horrible joke or a fever dream.
A team of medics met you and dragged Spencer away from you when you had first arrived at the base. You remembered how the driver pushed you forward as you had stood there and stared at the medics who were taking Spencer away. Despite it all, he felt like your safety net, an anchor that you could hold onto when the stormy sea tried to send you to foreign shores. Being at the base without him terrified you. Not knowing what they were going to do to him was absolutely awful. The place was a maze and even if you tried to run, there was no way youâd find the exit.
The driver had forced you into an elevator that went underground where the sun no longer reached you. He had locked you inside a windowless room that had a chair and a table in it. Thatâs where you had spent hours all alone, left with nothing more than your thoughts.Â
Were they going to kill you?Â
Would Spencer be okay?
What the hell was going on? How did it go so wrong so fast?
At some point a stranger had brought you a laptop and told you to review all the footage from last night. So you did as told, staring at the bright screen with tired eyes and witnessing everything all over again. The headphones were pressed against your ears and you could hear everything as well, including yourself.Â
It didnât surprise you that they saved all the recordings and footage of the heists. Of course they did. They never told you about this method but you knew it was far from the only secret they kept. After last night, you questioned everything you knew about COTA. This web of lies and crime ran deeper than you could comprehend, spreading further than even Spencer knew of.
Scanning over every pixel on the screen again and again at least confirmed one thing; at no point did you see a man entering the building. There was no way you couldâve warned them because you never knew he was there to begin with. How this man had gotten inside, you did not know.Â
When you listened in on the moment where everything had turned from bad to worse, you felt tears in your eyes. The panic from last night tried to resurface, anxiety whispering into your ear that you were in so much trouble. Run! Run for your life! The men were yelling and you heard things now that you hadnât last night as you had been so shocked and scared. They were struggling.Â
It wasnât the outsider that had initiated the fight. No, that had been one of your guys who had felt the need to do so for whatever reason. To defend their pride perhaps.Â
When the stranger picked up the mic and spoke directly into it, you held your breath. There wasnât an ounce of fear or hesitation in his voice,
No debiste hacer eso
What was that supposed to mean? What werenât you supposed to do? Was he referring to the entire heist or just stealing the artefact? Or was the man talking about the men who had tried to hurt him first? Was it a warning?
Would he come after you too?
There were so many questions that you werenât sure if you wanted to find out the answers to. At this point you were fed up and exhausted with COTA. You had spent hours locked up in the cold room and you were tired, throat dry and your bones aching because the chair offered little to no comfort. Watching and listening to the heist was tormenting you. All you wanted was to go home and put this all behind you. Forever.
Spencer had told you it wouldnât be that easy.Â
When the door finally unlocked again, you hoped they would let you go. Of course that didnât happen, not with your luck. Nico Williams himself walked into the room, his expensive leather boots pressing into the concrete floor as a handful of his henchmen followed by closely. The man wore a deep brown suit that complimented his complexion and well-maintained beard well. A fortuneâs worth of gold rings were wrapped around his fingers as a matching lapel pin rested on his suit jacket, the pin resembling a snake.Â
It was fitting as Nico was one of the worst and most venomous vipers around, loyal to himself and himself only. Heâd sink his teeth into anyone that got in his way, not sparing an ounce of venom. Nico was tall and his presence was large, making you feel rather small and insignificant under the same light as him - as much as you hated to admit that.Â
The dangerous man leaned against the table with his palms pressed against the smooth surface, looking right at you in a pressuring way. You forced yourself to keep your head held high, never looking away from him. No matter how afraid you felt, you had to stay strong.Â
âWhat the fuck happened last night?!â Nico growled like a beast, demanding answers that would satisfy him. His voice echoed in the near-empty room and it was a miracle you hadnât flinched. This man was was like dynamite and everyone was always wary around him, not wishing to make him explode so they ended up walking on eggshells. You knew now what he was capable of so you had to choose your words carefully.
âSomeone interfered with the mission. They mustâve been there before we arrived because at no point did I see an outsider enter the museum.â
âIf they were already there, what took them so long to attack, huh?â Nico tilted his head, not finding sense in your story. He treated this as if it was your fault. You had been the lookout, the eyes and the ears that was supposed to guide them in and out smoothly. What was so difficult about such a simple job?Â
âI donât know, sir,â You nearly grimaced as you called him that - as you had no true respect for the man at all. He sickened you. Oh if only you were given a chance to call him what you truly believed he was.Â
Nico clenched his jaw and seemed to swallow his next words. Silent like a predator ready to pounce, he rounded the table until he was right by your side. You could only watch as Nico lowered himself closer to you and then put his filthy hand on your face, a hand that had surely taken the lives of more people you could ever count. Was some of the blood in his palms poured there by you?
Prior to this you truly believed you and Spencer only took part in heists in which no one got hurt in. However that perfect illusion shattered last night. Spencer revealed to you just how terrible COTA truly was, confirming things you hadnât even dared to think of before. When he had called you naive, it had been justified. Nico was neck-deep in an ocean of crimson.Â
âYouâre lucky I like you, sweetheart,â Nico revealed, his words making you furious. Had he not been as powerful as he was, with people behind him ready to defend him in a heartbeat, you wouldâve smacked his dirty hand away. That option was out of the question though. No one was dumb enough to act out in front of Nico unless they had a death wish.Â
All of a sudden, Nico grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing you to look up. The sudden action startled you, causing your heart to leap to your throat. His touch was painful but nothing you couldnât handle.Â
There were unspoken words between you. Despite your silence, Nico could tell you werenât too happy with him either. The dissatisfaction in your eyes made him smirk. It amused him. He liked his girls a little bit feisty. Taming them was the most fun.
âIf I see something in that footage that you failed to see, or if I find out you were lying to me, I might just have to cut your little tongue off,â Nico threatened you so naturally. He had done and said much worse but he enjoyed the spark of fear that his words ignited on your face. Thatâs what he wanted to see. If he couldnât get your respect, he would stop at nothing to get you under control another way. Fear usually worked best.
âYou know, I was beginning to think that maybe you wanted to walk away from all this. I hope itâs not true because it would be a shame you lost focus and caused all this over something as silly as that, yeah?â Nico finally let go of you and you had to stop yourself from wiping your face, getting rid of the feeling of his fingers on your skin.Â
At that moment, you swore your heart sunk to the very bottom your stomach. How did he know? A whirlwind of emotions spun inside you. This was too much.Â
âI-I donât know what youâre talking about,â That was a lie but you had to say it. Nico was testing you, toying with you but deep down he wished he was wrong because he did not want to let you go.Â
When he saw how much his words frightened you, it felt like a slap in the face. That was all the confirmation that was needed. You lied to him but it was what Nico wanted to hear. For now, he decided to let you tell your pretty little lies because he was convinced you wouldnât dream of running away. The fear he instilled in you was sure to keep you where he wanted.Â
âGood girl,â Nico seemed pleased with that, âyouâre in too deep to leave now, sweet cheeks. I truly hope that last night wasnât your fault. There could be a bright future for you in COTA.â
Or no future at all. This mess could get you killed.
Could he tell you were on the brink of tears? That you felt torn apart on the inside? Was this fun for him?
âTake her away from my sight. Her friend should be all patched up now,â Nico ordered his henchmen, knowing they would do exactly as he wished. Everything else was a complete shitshow but at least he hinted at the fact Spencer was alright. When you were so deep in misery, hearing that brought you much needed relief.
âOh and one last thing,â Nico stood up and watched as you were yanked away from the chair that you had been glued to for the past few hours, âPick up the files for the next mission on your way out, will you? If you're off the hook after this, I want you on this case.â
If this fucking asshole wasnât going to let you leave, you would stop at nothing to take him down from the inside.Â
                 âThere, there,â You helped Spencer on the couch, making sure he didnât put too much pressure on his injured side. The wound was stitched and cleaned yet he seemed to be in misery. A bulletwound would do that. Now he would be spending the next few days on your couch because he couldnât look after himself. You couldâve thrown him out if you wanted to but the thought of doing so seemed too cruel.Â
âThanks,â Spencer mumbled quietly, like he was ashamed to say it but he did it anyway.Â
That was so much better than nothing. Lately, you hadnât expected anything good from him at all so a small thanks was enough.
âJust donât bleed out all over my couch, okay?â You tried desperately to lighten up the mood, pushing away the sense of doom that tried to swallow you whole.It was behind you like a dark, stormy cloud that was just waiting for one moment of weakness, then it would surround you fully. The folder with the papers of the next mission was on the coffee table and you refused to look into it now. That could wait.
There was a heaviness in you, your eyelids feeling like they were made out of stone as you struggled to keep your eyes open. When was the last time you had slept properly?Â
âIâll try not to,â Spencer chuckled which he instantly regretted as the movement sent a lightning of pain throughout his body, forcing him to grunt out in pain.Â
Seeing him like that was horrible but you had no words. Everything was far too overwhelming at that moment.Â
âJust get some sleep,â You sighed and hurried away from the tiny living room. Everything that happened next was a blur as your exhausted body barely managed to carry you forward. Dotty greeted you in the kitchen and you fed her and changed the water bowl and given her cold, fresh water. At some point you brought a tall glass of water to Spencer along with snacks so that he didnât have to get up if he was thirsty. Somehow you managed to rid yourself of your clothes, throwing them on the bedroom floor before you eventually collapsed into bed.
Finally, you could just lie down and try to relax.
Despite having a rather cheap mattress, it had never felt as comfortable as it did now. In the matter of seconds, the comfort of being in bed had lulled you to a deep, dreamless slumber.
You didnât sleep long.
Despite how easily you had fallen asleep, your mind didnât give you much rest. Something wicked and sinister had been formed in the pits of your mind which had startled you back to the waking world. Eyes popped open, you sat up in bed and realized you were out of breath. Nothing was out of place yet it felt like an earthquake had hit you.Â
Everything was fine.Â
Dorothy was sleeping peacefully on the cat tree in the corner. She loved sleeping in the same room as you which was why you had moved it into the bedroom instead of keeping it in the living room like originally planned. Seeing her was enough to make you relax.
It was almost 4PM. You definitely hadnât slept long enough but also realized you wouldnât fall back to sleep either. A shower should energize you a little bit, you presumed.Â
After a warm shower, you felt slightly better. The water had rinsed away the stress and Spencerâs blood that had somehow gotten underneath your shirt. Now feeling lighter, you grabbed your phone and hoped to reach Steven. The sweet man was the only person you wanted to talk to right now. Somehow even after just knowing him for only a few days, you knew you could rely on him to cheer you up. Without even knowing it, Steven made your days brighter.Â
To your surprise, there was a message already awaiting you from Steven.
1:15PM Steven - Hey! How are you, love? I was wondering if youâd like to do something today, if youâre free. Something wicked happened at work so I have today off. Would love to see you again! :)
Something wicked, huh? You knew exactly what he was talking about and it made you feel monstrous. If only he knew your part in it all.
3:57PM You - Hii! Sorry it took me a while to reply. Iâd love to hang out, Steven. When and where? Iâll be there.
                 A âdingâ caught Marcâs attention. It came from his pocket. He reached for the phone and put his hand above the screen to provide shade so he could see it more easily. Being outside when the screen brightness was low rendered it near impossible to see anything at all.Â
Seeing that it was a message from you wasnât surprising at all. Marc felt an odd sense of pride almost. To him, it was clear as daylight you were interested yet Steven insisted it was just friendly.
âShe replied,â Marc told Steven who was in the headspace. After they had left the museum, they had decided to run some errands. Marc fronted and he had spent the past few hours enjoying the day off. It had rained earlier but now the gloomy clouds were finally clearing out, revealing the sun that hadnât quite set yet but it wasnât too bright either. The day was nice despite the rather peculiar start.
What did she say? Steven wanted to know, sounding like an excited child.Â
âLook for yourself,â Marc opened the message and then felt his control slipping. Luckily, the shift was more comfortable now unlike what it had been just a few months back. Dying and working out his problems with Steven in the Duat had really helped. Who wouldâve thought?
Steven grinned as he read the text, knowing that soon he would see you again. He could hardly wait.
4:00 PM Steven - Have you eaten yet? Iâm close to this bakery Iâve heard good things about. They should have the best sandwiches in London. We could meet here once youâre ready and figure something out from there. Does that sound good?
Reading Stevenâs message made you realize you hadnât eaten anything all day. Right now, the thought of eating something with him sounded like paradise and you were willing to do anything to make it real.Â
4:02 PM You - That sounds great. If you send me the address Iâll be on my way in five. See you soon, Steven đ
Was that intentional? Steven knew people sent each other heart emojis all the time. Gods, he knew he told Marc they werenât twelve anymore but there he was, staring at the little heart emoji and wondering if it had any deeper meaning. Hoping that perhaps it did.Â
Maybe Steven cared a little bit more already than he was willing to admit? Or was the desire to be loved doing all the talking?
                  The nerves didnât really hit you until you were getting out of the taxi, the little bakery being on the other side of the street now. On the way there, you had just been excited to see Steven again. Now you were worried heâd be upset over what had happened at his place of employment and that you wouldnât be able to conceal the guilt. Oh, you didnât even want to know how heâd react if he knew what you were a part of.
All of that was quickly wiped away when you saw him standing there with the most adorable smile on his face. Steven waved at you from the other side of the street and you were quick to cross the road, making sure you werenât walking directly in front of any cars either. Today, he was wearing a burgundy button-up shirt with a fun, striped brown and white tie. It seemed like he had dressed for work and decided to stay in that outfit for the rest of the day.
âHey!â You greeted him happily, opening your arms to invite him into a friendly hug. Nothing too much.
Steven was surprised by that but he didnât hesitate to hug you back, adoring how comfortable he felt around you already. When his arms wrapped around your body - the scent of your shampoo made its way to his lungs - he swore his heart skipped a beat. The sweetness of lavender and honey gave him the sweetest thoughts.
âHi, love. How are you?â Steven asked as he pulled away from the hug, perhaps too soon as he hadnât wished to make things awkward right off the bat.Â
Little did he know how much that small hug meant to you, especially on a day like this. Being held by him so gently was a nice reminder of the fact that there were still soft and loving people in the world. Steven was certainly one of those people.
âIâm fine, definitely much better now,â You answered him casually as the two of you entered the bakery, the scent of fresh bread surrounding you and intensifying the longing to bite into something delicious. They also had a selection of fresh berries and fruits, smoothies and other treats you couldnât wait to get your hands on.
Steven was overjoyed to hear that. It was good to know someone wanted to spend time with him and that it actually meant something to them. There was nothing that forced you to be there, nothing you wanted out of this. This was just two people hanging out and nothing more yet for Steven, that was priceless.
âHow are you?â You turned to face him, curious to hear about his day. Would he speak of what happened at the museum?
âGood,â Steven quickly reassured you, âIâve been thinking about these pastries all day. Canât wait to try them!â
Did he know just how adorable he was?
âAnd Iâm happy to see you. Glad we have more time on us now. Iâd like to get to know you better,â Steven added as you two got in line, standing behind a younger couple. They were holding hands as they tried to figure out what drinks they wanted to order with their baked goods. They seemed to be infatuated with one another, which mustâve been lovely.Â
âIâd like to get to know you better too,â You admitted honestly, failing to stop smiling around him. It was unfair how easily Steven flustered you, as he had been doing over text for days now. âStarting with this, what berries and fruits would you like? Everything looks too good, I canât decide...â
As you went on about the food, Steven got a little bit lost in you. The way you gestured toward the menu and the range of options they offered, how you carried yourself. The way you looked at him with such carefree joy and genuinely wished to know more about him. Steven couldnât believe he had met you, that you had been the one to start a conversation with him in the first place.Â
Steven felt lucky.Â
          Perhaps you felt even luckier when you found yourself sitting on a park bench with Steven, a paper bag full of baked goods and fresh treats between you as you were eating sandwiches that Steven had heard such good things about. The praise hadnât been without reason as both of you were convinced some mystical sandwich god had made these themselves.Â
âIâm so glad we tried these!â You revealed to Steven after washing down a bite with a sip of the smoothie you had ordered. The setting sun painted the park in a shade of gold, deep oranges settling wherever the sun could reach. As you turned to look at Steven when the golden sun illuminated his features, you nearly choked on the drink.
He was truly a gorgeous man.Â
His side profile made him look like a statue carved by the most skilled and talented artists time itself had to offer. Long eyelashes around his stunning brown eyes that looked warm and inviting in the sunlight. The soft stubble on his jaw made you wonder what it would feel like against your skin.Â
Was it wrong to think of him that way when you barely knew him? If so, why did it feel like you could trust him more than you trusted Spencer, the man you had known for years?
âI know! Me too. And something about eating outside just makes everything taste better, donât you think?â Steven looked at you and then took a sip of his drink, awaiting an answer.
âYeah,â You agreed and hoped your expression didnât reveal that you were absolutely mesmerized by him. âGreat company makes it taste even better too.â
Now it was Stevenâs time to feel a little bit flustered. He felt heat spreading on his cheeks at the compliment, as subtle as it had been. Not that many people had ever said anything like that to him before. Not even to Marc. Kindness was truly rare in their lives.Â
Steven felt bad for not having told you about Marc yet. He was going to for sure, but he was afraid you would be judgmental. He didnât want to scare you away. Not now when he finally had something good and wonderful in his life, something he wanted to hold onto.Â
Was that a hint of red on his face that you saw?Â
Although it was fun to watch his reaction, you didnât want to be cruel either. To take the focus off of what you had said, you reached into the paper bag and pulled out a small box of grapes, opening it and offering him some of the juicy, green treats.
âWant some?âÂ
âOh thatâd be lovely,â Steven was glad you changed the topic because he was certain you could tell he was blushing. He grabbed a small handful of them, âThank you.â
You put the box down on your leg and grabbed a few of them too, popping them into your mouth. They were incredibly sweet and flavorful, which mustâve been good luck since sometimes you swore grapes tasted like nothing.
âYou know, the ancient Egyptians loved grapes,â Steven mentioned but quickly silenced himself, seemingly unsure of himself, âSorry. Iâm not at work. Donât want to bore you with this stuff.â
âSteven,â You cut him off before he could allow himself to feel bad. âI donât mind you talking about that at all.â
âYou donât?â
âWhy would I? Please, tell me more. Itâs fascinating to listen to someone who actually knows what theyâre talking about,â You promised that it didnât bother you. In fact, the way his eyes lit up made you feel excited. Steven was so smart and the last thing you wanted was to step on his knowledge. Listening to his cute accent and hearing his pretty voice getting all enthusiastic about the topic was something you were certain youâd never grow tired of.
You definitely visited the museum a few extra times in preparation of the heist for other reasons than precaution.Â
âAlright then, but consider yourself warned. Sometimes when I talk about these things itâs like I could ramble on for ages,â Steven admitted as he reached to grab another grape, not realizing the box was on your thigh until he had grabbed some. Seeing his hand so close to you instantly sent your mind elsewhere, thinking about what if would feel like if he simply rested his hand on your thighs or perhaps touched you somewhere else entirely. Â
He definitely noticed it now but he didnât say anything, just looking away rather innocently as if nothing had happened at all. That had he somehow missed the box of grapes he wouldâve touched your thighs. That was a bit too fast forward, right? Steven tried not to think about it. Marc definitely thought about it.
âI promise I wonât be mad if you tell me to zip it,â Steven let you know.Â
There was no way in hell youâd even dream of doing that.Â
âBring it on, Grant,â Instead you only encouraged him to tell you about the fun facts and intricate knowledge he possessed, more than willingly hearing him out.
                   By the time you were finished eating and talking in the park, the sun had fully set but the passage of time had felt like a few minutes at most. Spending time with Steven made it flow differently and you were having the time of your life. When was the last time you felt so free?
You had thrown your trash into the bin and started walking without any plans. It was just nice to walk and talk, trying to figure out what to do as you were already on the go.Â
Eventually, you spotted a rather small yet charming bar that wasnât too packed. Good music was playing from the speakers that you could hear from the pavement as colourful lights shone from inside the place.Â
âOh we should go in there!â You pointed at the bar and only then saw what it was called, the Sunny tavern.Â
Steven followed the direction of your finger and saw the bar. The thought of going inside there with you was thrilling. As normal as it was for most people, it seemed like so much fun for both of you. Not necessarily to get wasted, but to have a good time. What could possibly go wrong?
âAlright, yeah. Lead the way!â Steven agreed, already wondering what heâd order. He had to admit that he wasnât too familiar with bars but surely Marc could help if needed. What was it Marc had bought once? Was it a bottle of whisky or rum? Steven truly couldnât recall. It had been far too bitter for his taste anyway.
Before you realized what you were doing, you grabbed Stevenâs hand as if to guide him across the road with you. By the time you realized your fingers intertwined with his and Steven stood there, frozen on the spot, it was too late to pretend it hadnât already happened. Fuck. In the span of two or three seconds you already convinced yourself you had crossed a boundary and heâd run away, never to look back at you ever again.
âOh Iâm so sorry-â
âDonât be,â Steven got over the initial shock and he squeezed your hand a little bit, trying to convince you it was alright. Sure, your action was bold but it boosted Stevenâs confidence. He was happy and he didnât want you to worry about holding his hand. Not when it made him feel over the moon.Â
This was nice.
âOkay. Iâm not sorry then.â
As if he had magical abilities, Steven had pushed your worries and fears away and replaced them with joy and butterflies fluttering in your belly. His hand was soft, just like you remembered yet calloused fingertips pressed into your skin. Knowing that he wanted to hold your hand too was nearly enough to bring you to tears.
The last time someone had touched you let alone held your hand felt like a lifetime ago. None of the past pain mattered now. You were about to go have a wonderful night at the Sunny tavern and Steven Grant was holding your hand.Â
Together, you crossed the street with shit-eating grins on your face, like teenagers who were walking through the school hallways holding hands for the first time and not caring about the others that were looking.Â
As you entered the bar, the music grew louder. Right now, a queen song was playing, Somebody to Love to be precise which instantly boosted the already great mood. People seemed to be enjoying themselves. The furniture was outdated and dark but it somehow worked, creating an old-timey feel that you both enjoyed. Perhaps the red carpeted floor in the entry was gross, but other than that the bar seemed nice.Â
âShould we order something?â You wondered as you scanned the bar, looking for empty tables or booths. There were a few which was good because you didnât wish to be pressed against drunk strangers either. There was a small dance floor in the far right corner with a scene with karaoke equipment. No one was currently singing but the TV-screen on the wall revealed that another round of karaoke would begin in 18 minutes. Someone with the nickname âModern Elvisâ was up next with the song âjailhouse rockâ.Â
âSure. What would you like?â Steven wondered as you sat by the bar, searching for something interesting on the menu.Â
âA piĂąa colada would be nice,â You craved something sweet yet strong enough so you could order just one drink and get tipsy. You didnât want to spend the night at the bar ordering drink after drink either. Getting drunk or spending way too much money wasnât the plan.Â
You never let go of each other as you sat down, neither knowing if you should or shouldnât. Itâs not like you wanted to let go either so you let it stretch out for a bit longer than intended.Â
âWhat were you thinking about getting?âÂ
âIâm not sure yet...â Steven admitted as he tried to make up his mind. That was hard when he was so focused on the fact your hand was in his and it felt so right.
Steven looked past the bartender who was serving another person and into the mirror behind the bar, his reflection not matching himself. Marc was looking back at him with a smirk that nearly made Steven feel embarrassed.Â
Not a crush, hm? Marc repeated what Steven had said earlier that day. It wasnât fair that he could speak when Steven wasnât able to reply, not with you right by his side.Â
The bartender handed the receipt to the drunk man who immediately threw it away, only caring about his beer, then he made his way to you.Â
âGood evening. How can I help you?â The ginger man asked routinely, surely for the zillionth time that night. He seemed friendly though.Â
Before you could order your own drink and pay, Steven spoke, âa piĂąa colada for the lady and Iâll have a...â his dark eyes scanned the menu one more time and in a rush, Steven decided what he wanted, â...a tequila sunrise, please.â
âI can do that,â The cheerful bartender answered, already grabbing two clean glasses from under the bar.Â
âTequila sunrise?â You were surprised, âdo you have work tomorrow?â Instantly, you regretted your choice of words. Bad timing. Luckily, Steven didnât even seem to realize that.Â
The bartender then added the drinks to the total and then handed the card-reader to Steven. As he waited for someone to pay, he began preparing the drinks.Â
âSteven I can pay,â You felt bad when you saw him pulling out his wallet.
âThis oneâs on me, love. Please, allow me,â Steven wanted to be a gentleman. After you made such a bold move by grabbing his hand, he wanted to do something nice too. Even if it was something as small as paying for your cocktail.Â
Deciding it wasnât worth arguing over, you let him do as he pleased. Part of you liked it too, being treated that way. Steven was truly special.Â
After he paid and the bartender finished making your fancy drinks, you moved from the bar to a booth in the corner with a direct view of the dance floor and karaoke stage. The TV-screen said 13 minutes now. You wondered which one of these people was Modern Elvis.Â
You sat next to Steven and took a sip of your drink, loving the sweet taste of pineapple and coconut on your tongue. After such an interesting day, for the lack of a better word, this tasted heavenly.Â
Steven looked at the glass in front of him, wondering how the bartender could make a drink look gradient; starting off as bright red at the bottom and being yellow at the top. That was impressive however he wondered why you had said something about him going to work when he ordered it. Was it supposed to get him drunk? Just one puny glass of it? He supposed he was just about to find out.
âHey, cheers for us. Iâm glad we met each other,â You raised your glass a little bit and turned to sit in a way you faced Steven completely.Â
Steven didnât say it out loud but he thought you were cute. Especially when you looked at him with that spark in your eyes. He raised his glass too, âcheers, love.â
After clinking your glasses, you both took sips of the drinks. Steven was surprised by how delicious his drink was. He was careful not to drop the orange slice wedged onto the edge of the glass, right next to a tiny, blue umbrella as he put the glass down with a thud.
âWoah, thatâs really good!â Steven had to let you know, genuinely impressed by the cocktail.Â
âYouâve never had it before?â You were curious, not judgmental at all.Â
âNo, not that one,â Steven revealed. There were many things he hadnât gotten a chance to do. After all, he had spent a large chunk of his life in the headspace, hidden somewhere that he didnât even acknowledge. There was so much darkness.
âJust remember to drink your water and youâll be fine,â You reminded him sweetly. Steven could only watch as your fingers grabbed the bright, pink cherry on top of your drink. You put it between your lips and took a bite of it.
Bloody hell, Steven swore that was one of the hottest things he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Those lips wrapped around the cherry made him think about them wrapped around something else... no, Steven had to stop thinking like that. He refused to let his mind wander that far.
âSo uh, I donât think I asked. How was your morning? What have you been up to?â Steven needed to take his mind off of your pretty lips and the way they looked like the most delicious forbidden fruit he couldnât wait to taste. It wasnât right.Â
You shrugged as you sucked the drink out of the black straw, trying to come up with an answer. âNot too bad. I was just dealing with this project and that was stressful but I think itâs all good now.â
âOh right, the project,â Steven remembered. The day you met you hadnât mentioned much more about it other than the fact you were working on it and it had something to do with history. When you had gone out for coffee, you had been far too distracted by one another for Steven to be able to actually help you with it furthermore. âHowâs it coming along? Your research, I mean.â
Steven was being so sweet and thoughtful. He had no way of knowing what the project was really about which somehow made you feel amoral. Was it wrong of you let get close to him when you were putting him at risk by just existing? If Nico Williams knew of your desire to leave COTA, surely they had eyes on your private life.Â
A sudden yet intense fear spiked in your gut. Would they come after Steven?
âGreat!â You lied with as much confidence as you could, âitâs coming along great. Might be ready for another project soon.â You had to swallow the filthy feeling in your mouth with the drink, hating your lies and half-truths. Steven deserved better.
âThatâs exciting!â Steven was happy for you, truly. In his mind, this was a good thing.Â
However, deep in the headspace was someone who instantly noticed the change in your demeanour. Steven had noticed it too but Marc recognized it. He questioned it in a more calculated way. Something was definitely off. This was more than normal stress over just work. Marc didnât know exactly what it was but he had a bad feeling. Whether you were in danger or trouble, he didnât like either option. For now, Marc decided to keep this to himself.Â
                    One drink turned to two as the atmosphere in the bar encouraged you to let go a little, to relax and have a good time. Eventually, you excused yourself to the bathroom, leaving Steven alone for a moment as he listened to Modern Elvis jamming out to another Elvis song. Steven loved it. Some people were even on the dance floor, too drunk to care about how they looked as they swayed to the music. An elderly couple in particular seemed to be having the time of their lives.Â
During his time alone, Marc finally spoke up again.
Somethingâs weird, Steven, Marc started ominously.
âWhat do you mean, mate?â Steven furrowed his brows, definitely feeling the effects of two drinks as he wasnât much of a drinker. This was fun. He felt high on joy right now and he didnât want Marc to squash that feeling. Like a bug.
Didnât you see the way she acted when you asked about the project?Â
âMust be stress, you know? She said itâs confidential, must be important stuff,â Steven assumed, not wanting to believe there was more to it.Â
Marc realized Steven could be right yet he couldnât shake the lingering, serious feeling away. It felt like a dagger that sunk into his brain and forced him to think about it. That sharp edge wasnât pleasant.Â
You pushed the heavy bathroom door open, excited to return to Stevenâs side. As you walked out of the crowded room, a woman who was just about to enter bumped into you. For whatever reason, she had brought her drink with her and the moment your heads butted, the liquid spilled all over you, soaking the front of your shirt completely.
It was ice cold and when it hit your warm skin, you gasped and jumped back. Goosebumps rose all over your skin instantly, shivers being sent down your spine. The contact of the icy drink was chilling.
âIâm so sorry!â The brunette seemed genuinely apologetic, covering her mouth in shock as she realized what had happened.Â
âItâs fine,â You told her, knowing it was simply an accident.
âI...I can dry it off. Iâll grab paper towels. Iâm so sorry-â
âHey,â You cut her off gently, ignoring the sticky drink that stained your shirt, âitâs alright. It was an accident. Iâll be okay.â
Seeing how upset she was over it made your heart tighten in your chest. Other people noticed what had happened and some had expected a fight. Luckily, that was avoided.Â
As much as it sucked, you refused to let that ruin your night. You did your best at cleaning yourself up, wiping the shirt repeatedly with paper towels. In the end, you had a huge stain on your shirt and your skin felt sticky but at least the drink wasnât dripping everywhere as you walked out of the bathroom, back to Steven.
Steven noticed the stain on your shirt and his eyes widened, âwhat happened?âÂ
âBumped into someone,â You explained briefly, looking down at the obvious stain and hating that it was right over your chest. Now that you were no longer in the safety of the bathroom, you felt self-conscious about the placement. That definitely made people stare.
Steven realized that too. He got up in a heartbeat and took off his jacket, wrapping it over your shoulders to offer a little bit of coverage. The jacket smelled like him and it was warm.
âLetâs go, shall we? I live just a couple of blocks away. If youâre not in a rush I can wash that for you. Itâll only take a moment,â Steven offered as he walked you out of the bar. It was about time to leave anyway. âOr I could call a taxi. If youâd prefer that.â
Was he real? Was he genuinely such a sweet man? Steven didnât have to be so nice yet there he was, blowing your mind by just being himself.
âYou donât need to do that. Letâs go. I want to see your goldfish,â You trusted Steven enough to go to his place. That was much better than standing in a bar with a soaked shirt.Â
Steven was surprised you remembered the goldfish. âOh youâll love them. Letâs go then.â
âThank you,â You werenât sure if it was the stress of the past few days - or months really - or the alcohol, but his kindness moved you. It nearly brought you to tears which luckily he didnât seem to notice now that you were outside, walking down the dark street. Night had fallen quicker than you had realized.Â
Steven wrapped his arm around you gently and caressed the side of your arm, âdonât worry about it. Thatâs the least I can do, love.â
                     Had someone told you that youâd find yourself in Stevenâs flat that night, you wouldnât have believed them. The walk had been short and before you knew it, your shirt was in the washer as you wore one of his t-shirts in the meantime. The place was so him, full of books and interesting trinkets. You even met the two goldfish.Â
âDo you play the guitar?â You asked Steven when you saw the acoustic guitar that was leaning against the bookshelf behind the TV.Â
âOh that...thatâs... itâs a funny story actually,â Steven rambled as he was nervous now because he was preparing to do something big, âNo, I donât.â
âOh,â You werenât sure why he had the guitar. Perhaps he wanted to learn how to play it?Â
âY/N, thereâs something I want to tell you,â Steven finally gathered his courage. It helped that Marc was onboard with him. They were doing this together.Â
He was sitting on an emerald green armchair as you were sat comfortably on his comfortable love seat. There was a blue blanket over your legs for comfort. Stevenâs flat was full of things that felt cosy and warm. You absolutely adored it.
However, you couldnât focus on the decor as Steven faced you with a serious expression. It was so unlike him, at least the him you had gotten to know so far. Had you done something wrong? Was he about to tell you he never wanted to see you again?
Did he know about COTA?
âYou can tell me anything,â You hoped he couldnât tell how jittery you were. This was ridiculous! You told yourself you had no reason to be nervous. This was something personal to Steven and you wanted to be supportive. Had he been closer, you wouldâve grabbed his hand to reassure him that you were listening.Â
You can do this, buddy, Marc encouraged Steven to get started. Truth be told, Marc felt nervous too. Despite how sweet you had been so far, there was no way of truly knowing how youâd take this. People had a tendency to seem one way but when the moment was critical, they revealed their true selves. Often that was unpredictable. The last thing Marc wanted was for you to be afraid and break Stevenâs heart.Â
We can do this.
âI havenât really told anyone before...not like this,â Steven chuckled anxiously, scratching the back of his head.Â
âTake your time,â You werenât in a rush. For him, you would sit there all night and wait until he found the right words.
Steven needed to hear that. It reminded him of how understanding you seemed to be. Right now, he needed someone like you. After this, everything would change; youâd either leave and never contact him again or youâd get to know Marc too. Whatever the future held if you decided to stay, Steven couldnât even imagine. He hoped it was good.
One deep breath. Inhaled. Exhaled. Steven made up his mind.Â
He trusted you.
âI have DID,â Steven blurted the words out, not controlling the volume or speed he spoke at because of how his nerves. They just spilled from his lips and now they were out in the open.Â
âIâm me, obviously, but thereâs another guy. His name is Marc,â Steven continued carefully, avoiding your gaze as spoke. He could feel you looking at him but he couldnât bring himself to look back. Why did this have to be so difficult?
âWe uh, well we share a body. Sometimes he fronts, sometimes itâs me. Weâve gotten better at this, you know sharing a body and having our own lives,â He explained to you before silence could settle in the flat. Rambling was better than terrifying silence, or so he thought.Â
Steven played with his own fingers nervously, resisting the urge to pick at the dry cuticles around his fingernails. Being so vulnerable was a huge step for him and your reaction would mean so much to him, whatever it may be.Â
âYeah, thatâs it. The catâs out the bag,â Steven decided to let you speak now before he would go on any further. Despite how hard it was, he raised his gaze to meet yours.Â
You were smiling.
It was a sweet smile, not a pitiful one. You didnât seem to view him as any lesser of a man than what he was before revealing this to you.Â
âThank you for telling me,â You were honoured he trusted you with that knowledge in the first place. Of course, it was surprising to hear as Steven hadnât shown any symptoms or signs of DID. Not that you had noticed anyway. Knowing he had an alter, or that he was an alter, didnât bother you at all. That was something you had to get used to, just like everything else when meeting new people. It wasnât a bad thing.
âYouâre not scared, are you?â His voice revealed what he feared, that youâd judge him and leave. It pained you to know he was afraid of that. Had someone else in his past been afraid? Reacted poorly? Just the thought of someone upsetting him was heartbreaking.Â
âNo, not at all, Steven,â You quickly reassured him, wishing you could hug him. Your heart was beating a little bit faster as you sat there, not because you were frightened. You were just so overwhelmed by emotions, mostly positive ones. Being let in on this part of him meant so much to you. There was no way youâd dare to make him feel bad about it.Â
âGood,â Steven didnât want to cry but keeping the happy tears at bay seemed impossible. His eyes were teary and the smile on his face made it easier to see. He hadnât felt relief like that in a long time. Â
âThatâs great. Ohh, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that!â Steven added to that, âWould you like to meet Marc?â
This was not what you had expected to happen but you didnât mind it at all. Steven was lovely, charming and kind. Knowing that he had DID didnât change anything.
In fact, you were excited to meet Marc despite not quite knowing how this worked yet. Youâd learn.
âIâd love to.â
Witnessing what happened next was astonishing. It was as if Steven changed completely by letting out a breath he had been holding. The way he was sitting changed and you noticed the tiny details on his face shifting too because of the different tension in the tiny muscles. Next time you met those brown eyes, they just seemed different. You couldnât name the change but you saw it.
That mustâve been Marc.Â
âIâm the one that plays the guitar, by the way,â Marc concealed his own nerves by saying something that would hopefully lighten up the mood. He hadnât forgotten about the shift in your demeanour and unbeknownst to Steven, Marc wanted to use this opportunity to get to know you. If someone was hurting you, he would find out about it.
If there was something else to it, Marc wouldnât let you hurt Steven.Â
The accent caught you off guard. You hadnât expected such a big difference for some reason. How much did he know about you? Marc had clearly heard you asking about the guitar earlier.
âYouâll have to show me one day,â You stated, hoping they were okay with you sticking around for a while. This was a friendship you hoped could last for longer than just a couple of weeks. Hopefully, you and Marc could get along too.Â
âSure,â Marc shrugged, not minding the sound of that at all, âitâs good to meet you. Iâm Marc Spector,â He introduced himself properly and stuck out his hand to shake yours.Â
You grabbed his hand and shook it back, feeling a difference in the grip compared to how Steven had held it. Marcâs handshake was much firmer, the nervous demeanour compared with something rather charming and confident. Whether it was a facade or not, you did not know. Marc seemed like he could be smooth with his words and actions if he wanted to.
âItâs nice to meet you too, Marc,â You shook his hand one more time before letting go. Truly, it was a wonderful moment. This amount of trust mustâve meant that you could build a relationship that could last. Well, as long as you could free yourself from the chains of COTA. Of course, you could be wrong but you had a feeling they would impact your life in ways you couldnât even imagine yet.
Steven and Marc had trusted you with such a vulnerable side of them. Suddenly, you felt even worse for your involvement with the dangerous criminal organization. How long could you go on like this? Keeping secrets from them and possibly putting them in danger?Â
                      Somewhere on the other side of London, a drop off was taking place. An ancient artefact was wrapped in thick, red fabrics as it was handed from one person to another. If objects could talk, that one had an interesting story to tell just about the last 24 hours alone.Â
Armed people stood behind a man that stood out from the rest, dressed in a white robe that reached his ankles. The armed men guarded his every step.
Finally, the valuable possession ended up in the robed manâs hands, the thick fabric being unwrapped carefully, revealing the golden object. Even in the darkness of the night, light provided by the moon only, it looked beyond beautiful and fascinating, ancient symbols providing it with a powerful aura. The man knew how powerful it was, how important its powers were about the be.Â
They could change the whole world.
âFinally,â The man smiled as he cradled the grail like an infant, âitâs all mine.â
[NEXT CHAPTER - coming soon!] Â
A/N: The story is finally really beginning! I hope you guys like it! Iâm so excited to write this. Itâs been so long since I last sat down and wrote this much without losing interest. I would absolutely love to hear your feedback <3
follow my side blog @loki-hargreeves-masterlistâ for notifications when I post updates and other fics, if you want to.
Taglist (let me know if you want to be tagged/removed from the list):
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/8
Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Relationships: Delilah Briarwood/Sylas Briarwood/Vax'ildan, Delilah Briarwood/Sylas Briarwood, Vax'ildan & Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Cassandra de Rolo & Vax'ildan, Taryon Darrington & Vex'ahlia, Vex'ahlia/Adella (Critical Role)
Characters: Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Sylas Briarwood, Delilah Briarwood, Cassandra de Rolo, Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, de Rolo Family, Anna Ripley, the New Nobles (Critical Role), Taryon Darrington, Spireling Gideor, Adella (Critical Role)
Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, nothing is shown explicitely, but its a big part of the story, so consider yourselves warned, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, This is the worse, Hurt No Comfort, For the most part, Hurt Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Vax'ildan Needs a Hug (Critical Role), Vex'ahlia needs a hug, Dark, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, the Briarwoods are the worst, author has not read kith and kin, Fake Character Death, Whump, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Geas Spell (Dungeons & Dragons), The Briarwoods are the worlds worst power couple, I mess quite a bit with the timeline, Internalized Victim Blaming, Vax is straight up having a bad time, Trans Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Series: Part 1 of To What do We All Commit?
Summary:
Vex and Vax decide to stay in Westruun instead of moving on to Stilben, and a job for the Clasp puts Vax in the hands of the Briarwoods months before their attack on Whitestone, with no earring, and no one in range to call 'Jenga' to even if he had one. They decide to keep him. Vex wants to know what the fuck happened to her brother.
(Brought to you by that scene in Crimson Diplomacy, you know the one.)
SITN in West Kelowna @finalroundkelowna Jason has joined the #sitnmovement by sporting a SITN- Capital Crew sweater from @sitn.ca a @staycationinthenation #finalroundkelowna #staycationinthenation #sitn #supportlocal #sitnmovement #staycation #capitalcrew #supportlocal #canadađ¨đŚ (at Kelowna, British Columbia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CVJltSnpx46/?utm_medium=tumblr
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Ahh, ships in the night is difficult to explain... Itâs my most recent WIP and Iâm still bouncing ideas around and seeing what sticks, but basically itâs inspired by this Spanish TV show called El ministerio del tiempo (The Ministry of Time), which is about a government agency that uses time travel to ensure that history stays on course and that no one tries to tamper with it (by murdering an important historical figure, for example).
Iâm intrigued by the idea of the Ministry of Magic having something similar, specifically in the Department of Mysteries, and of Scorpius working there as an agent and Unspeakable. Iâm a bit torn regarding what Albusâ role should be: Scorpiusâ coworker and partner? Or someone trying to interfere with the Ministryâs work? Thereâs a lot to think about here and a lot to explore (and... a lot to research) đ¤
Upside Down shit, he has a pretty good handle on it by now, but Russian spies?
Scientists? Conspiracies? He might be a bit out of his depth here. Especially because his unexpected hostage doesn't speak English.
It wouldn't have mattered if they hadn't been chased out of the safe house by the fucking Russian Terminator, but they had. So, they'd needed answers pronto, but try as they might, communicating with the man was impossible.
It had left Jim with one choice and one choice only.