#*opens program* *slams hands down on keyboard* *closes program*

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧  

[keqism]

꒰ა 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒, 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐒! ໒꒱

∴ multi-character x gn!reader: diluc, xiao, scaramouche, gorou, zhongli 

∴ genre: fluff, hints of modern!au

∴ warnings: alcohol consumption, pet names, xiao isn't really drunk but the theme fits, not proofread

∴ summary: genshin men + alcohol = ?

𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ∴ feat. diluc

diluc was an enigma of carefully hidden truths and igniting flames. even as his lover, you knew very little about him. 

you knew that he enjoyed the occasional game of chess and that he hated wine with a passion. his favorite flowers were small lamp grass and he absolutely despised waking up early in the mornings.

but you didn't know why diluc disappeared at night, only to come back to you with bloodstained clothes and an apologetic smile. you knew better than to question him, choosing to silently bandage his wounds and gently work through the tangles in his hair. you ignored the letters scattered throughout the mansion and the carefully polished seashell sitting on his bedside table.

your boyfriend was stoic; a mystery that chose to hide behind an unfeeling mask. so it came as a surprise when diluc let himself go and indulged in one too many drinks one day.

"did i ever tell you," diluc slurred, emphasizing the last word by poking your arm, "that i love you a lot?"

you let out a laugh at the odd display of affection, turning onto your side to face him. "you tell me every morning when we wake up and before we go to bed," you smiled. "is that not enough for you, my dear?"

"'s not enough," he mumbled, shaking his head. he bashfully gazed at you, and your heart stuttered at how much love he held in those scarlet eyes. diluc inched closer to you, bedsheets rustling, before grabbing your face in his hands.

"i love you," he vowed before peppering kisses all over your face. "i love you i love you i love—"

"okay i love you too!" you yelped, a wide smile splitting your face. that seemed to satisfy diluc, who laid back down and snuggled into the blankets.

a moment passed, the cries of the barn owls and the chirping crickets outside filling the silence in the room. you closed your eyes, drowsy from having wrestled your boyfriend into bed earlier. 

a warm breath on your neck startled you awake, your eyes snapping open to see diluc peering at you.

"did i ever tell you that i love—"

you slapped a hand over his mouth, glowering at him. "diluc, ask me again and i'll tell kaeya about this!" 

diluc quickly stopped talking.

𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌.𝐎𝐔𝐓.𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓("𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔") ∴ feat. xiao

you adored your affectionate, alcoholic roommate, but venti's weekly parties always left you trapped in your room with a migraine.

your nails clacked against your keyboard as you furiously typed your one hundred and fifty-seventh line of code for a programming assignment. soft lofi played through your speakers, contrasting the pounding music downstairs, as you compiled your program and prayed it would work.

you slammed your head onto your desk as "SYNTAX ERROR" flashed in bright red letters on your screen. "fucking hell," you swore, cursing yourself for choosing a complicated major and cursing venti for hosting yet another stupid party.

your grumbling was interrupted by the creaking of your door opening and a quiet "oh shit" uttered behind you. you swiveled around in your chair to see a dark figure peering into your room.

a muffled apology came from the doorway but you waved them in. "it's alright, come on in."

the shadow moved towards you. a bare arm emerged, decorated with green markings; a pair of alluring golden eyes followed. 

xiao. he was one of venti's closest friends, and a fellow computer science major at your university. the two of you frequently had classes together, but weren't well-acquainted. he was aware of the fact that you were venti's roommate; what he didn't know, however, was that you had the fattest crush on him.

"i'm so sorry," he apologized again. "i was looking for a quiet spot but all the other rooms were locked."

"venti started locking the doors after he found some strangers in his bed," you explained with a smile. "you can stay in here until you leave." you turned back to your laptop, eyeing the error message. 

"need help with that?" xiao's voice came from directly behind you. turning, you came face-to-face with his very attractive chest as he leaned down to peer at your screen.

"yes please," you stammered, the close proximity making your heart race. you stood up, turning your chair towards him. "be my guest."

you plopped onto your bed, wrapping yourself in your blanket to hide your rex lapis pajama pants as xiao took your place at your desk. a comfortable silence settled in your room, although you could still hear the faint sound of the music playing downstairs. 

propping yourself up on one elbow, you turned onto your side to face him. "i didn't take you as a party person," you commented, absentmindedly picking the dust off of your comforter.

"i'm not." gold eyes briefly glanced at you before returning their attention to your laptop. "venti begged me to come, and i'm here to keep an eye on some friends."

"ah the designated driver," you sighed. "sounds like fun." 

xiao hummed in agreement, and your room was silent again.

you quietly admired xiao's profile as he sifted through your program. he was clad in a black sleeveless turtleneck and ripped jeans, his tattoos on full display for your ogling. his hair was messy, like he had been running his hands through it, and his silver rings—rings!—matched the piercings on his ears. you almost couldn't believe that a man this attractive was sitting in your room.

your gaze moved up from his hands to examine his face—to your surprise, xiao was looking at you expectantly.

"sorry, could you repeat that?" you asked sheepishly, feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment. 

he gestured to your laptop, pointing at your screen. "line fifty-six," he replied, hovering the cursor over a part of your program. "you're missing a semi-colon."

you scrambled out of bed to sit at your desk, slamming a finger down on a key before compiling your program. to your (and xiao's) utter relief, the semi-colon was the fix.

"it works!" you exclaimed, kicking your feet in excitement. "oh my archons i could kiss you right now—" 

you clapped a hand over your mouth, staring at xiao in horror. he stared back, eyes wide with shock.

"i didn't mean that literally," you stuttered, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. 

to your surprise, xiao let out a laugh. "it's alright," he chuckled, amusement written all over his face. he opened his mouth to say more, but a sharp ring cut him off. he turned his attention to the phone in his hand, glaring at the screen.

xiao grimaced, pocketing his phone. "heizou and gorou are fighting again, i gotta go." he grabbed a pen from your desk and tore a page out of a notebook, scribbling something onto the paper. 

"here, if you need help with a program in the future, just shoot me a text." he slid the page over to you, and with a small wave, he was gone.

the scent of his cologne lingered, a reminder that the past ten minutes had really happened. you glanced down at the note in your hand.

Xiao 000-000-0000 I like your pajamas btw.

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘! ∴ feat. scaramouche

"scara!" you shrieked, stumbling through the front door. "take your shoes off first!"

your stubborn boyfriend scowled from the end of the hallway, muddy shoes trailing dirt into your shared home. "no," he slurred, crossing his arms. "only drunk people take their shoes off, and i'm not drunk."

"babe, you are most definitely drunk," you gawked at him in disbelief.  "please, can you take your shoes off so i don't have to wipe the floors again?"

your pleas fell on deaf—and drunk—ears as scara raised an eyebrow and dragged his feet across the floor. desperately, you dove down and clung to his legs, hoping to save your carpet from being subjected to any further damage.

"scara please," you begged. "i'll do the dishes for a week and buy you dango milk—just take your shoes off." you reached for his shoelaces, frantically untying a knot before he clumsily shook you off.

"call me that again and i'll listen to you." scara hiccupped once. 

you studied him carefully, a smile creeping onto your face. "call you what?" you teased.

scara hiccupped again, looking away from you bashfully. "don't make me say it again," he grumbled.

you reached up to grasp his hand. "babe," you sang. "scara, baby, can you take your shoes off now?"

you heard scara's breath stutter before a sudden flush of red spread across his cheeks. he fumbled with his shoes before kicking them off, a laugh bubbling in your chest as he tugged you off of the floor and dragged you towards your bedroom. you rarely saw scara look so cute; it was easy to forget that your brat of a boyfriend had a soft side, a side that only you were able to see. 

perhaps getting him drunk more often wasn't a bad idea.

𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏) ∴ feat. gorou

"it's so odd to see the general of the watatsumi army like this," yoimiya observed.

you softly laughed at her comment, gazing down at the man curled up in your lap. gorou had dozed off after a few cups of sake, his head falling into your lap as he burrowed into his tail.

"he's a little tired," you smiled, gently stroking the fluff on his ears. "thoma tried to teach him how to make sweaters for the dogs in konda village—although i don't think it went well."

you told yoimiya about the scraps of yarn that gorou had dejectedly brought home, drawing peals of laughter out of your friend. as conversation flowed easily between the two of you, your hand slowly stopped stroking the pair of ears in your lap.

you were intensely recounting the latest neighborhood gossip when a sudden whine interrupted you, drawing your attention to the forgotten general in your lap. still asleep, your disgruntled lover yanked your hands back down to his head; as you tangled your fingers in his hair again, his tail began to wag, thumping against the aralia wood floors.

"oh—that's quite cute," yoimiya squealed, amusement evident in her voice. "he's just like taroumaru! do you mind if I take a picture?"

a few weeks later, rumor had it that the watatsumi army general hugged his tail while sleeping. when gorou interrogated you about the gossip, you feigned innocence.

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒? ∴ feat. zhongli

you wandered into the kitchen, looking to clear your head with a cold glass of water—only to find your boyfriend rummaging through the fridge. 

"zhongli?" you gaped at him. "what are you doing?"

he swiftly turned, revealing a jar of peanut butter in one hand and an apple in the other. "oh," zhongli uttered. "hello, dear. did you know peanut butter with xylitol is harmful to dogs?" he lightly swayed in place, his eyes unfocused and hazy. 

"archons, how much did you have to drink?" you questioned, grabbing his arm to support his teetering frame. 

"i'm not that drunk," he claimed loudly. clambering towards the kitchen counter, he began clumsily digging through the drawers. "could you find me a knife, dear? i want this apple." 

you tugged him away from the counter and shoved him to sit on the floor. "stay," you commanded, pointing at the ground. you managed to find a knife and crouched down next to your pouting boyfriend, cutting into the apple.

you offered zhongli a piece and he took it, munching on the fruit. "did you know it takes thirty-six apples to make a gallon of apple cider?" he chattered. "and about four hundred grapes to make a bottle of wine. i wonder how diluc does it all? speaking of diluc, he—"

before he could go off on a tangent about diluc's winery, you shoved the rest of the apple in his mouth. 

"zhongli, i love you but i refuse to listen to the entire history of dawn winery tonight!"

a/n ∴ i would have added tighnari but i think he'd do shrooms instead. as usual reblogs and feedback are highly welcomed

[playsnakegames1]

The Art of Pellet Collection: Winning Big in Google Snake

You are a gifted gamer hoping to take your gifts to a higher level and climb the lists of competitors. The classic Snake game gives the ideal open door to feature your capacities. Initially delivered in 1976, Snake has endured for the long haul and stays a well known game for individuals, everything being equal. The reason is straightforward however dominating the game requires concentrate, speedy reflexes, and key reasoning.

As the snake gets longer with every pellet consumed, exploring the bound space turns out to be progressively troublesome. Crashing into the walls or your own tail implies game over. The key is controlling the heading and speed of the snake proficiently utilizing the bolt keys. Begin by rehearsing the essentials to fabricate muscle memory and learn strategies to amplify your score. Whenever you have fostered a steady technique, you can begin contending with others on the worldwide lists of competitors.

With training and ingenuity, overwhelming the lists of competitors of this retro game is inside your grip. Follow the tips and methodologies in this manual for become a specialist player and take on the highest level Snakers from around the world. The abilities you foster playing this classic game will work well for you as you progress to additional intricate games. Allow the games to start!

Introduction to the Classic Google Snake Game

Playing the Classic Snake Game

The goal of the classic Snake game is to eat as many apples as possible without running into yourself or the edges of the board. To start, press the play button and use the arrow keys on your keyboard to control the direction of the snake.

Focus on the head of the snake. The snake will continue moving in the direction it is facing, so carefully steer the head around the board to eat apples.

Plan your path. Look for open areas of the board where there are several apples in close proximity. Maneuver the snake to eat multiple apples in one run for higher scores. Take wide turns when possible to avoid running into the snake's body.

Increase your speed. As you eat more apples, the snake will grow longer and move faster. React quickly to avoid collisions. The game ends if you run into yourself or hit the edge of the board.

Use walls to your advantage. Bounce the snake off walls to make sharp turns and access areas that would otherwise be difficult to reach. But be very careful, as one wrong move can lead to the end of the game.

With practice, you'll get better at controlling the snake and dominating the leaderboard. Remember, the key is to start slow, plan your moves carefully, speed up cautiously, and use the walls to maneuver the growing snake around the board. Keep at it and soon you'll be chasing the elusive perfect score!

How to Play Google Snake Game on PC and Mobile

Playing Snake Game on Your PC

To play the classic Snake game on your Windows or Macintosh PC, you have a couple of choices.

To start with, you can play straightforwardly on your PC or PC on the off chance that you have Web access. Essentially open your internet browser and go to the Google Snake Game webpage. This choice chips away at all programs and requires no download.

On the other hand, you can download an independent Snake game application to play disconnected. A well known free, open-source rendition is by Humanoid. Subsequent to downloading the application, no Web association is expected to play. The gameplay and objective are equivalent to the first: explore the snake to eat apples while trying not to hit walls or its own tail.

For the electronic Google variant, utilize the bolt keys on your console to control the snake up, down, left and right. As in the first, the snake gets longer with every apple eaten, so you should be mindful so as not to slam into yourself! Eating apples likewise expands your score showed at the highest point of the screen.

The objective is basic yet testing: eat however many apples as could be expected under the circumstances prior to losing by hitting an impediment. With training, you can progress to more elevated levels and overwhelm the list of competitors. This nostalgic game of expertise is as yet pleasant a very long time after its creation. Check the classic Snake out and check whether you can beat your high score!

Tips and Strategies to Score High Points

To maximize your score and climb the leaderboard in Snake, employ the following tips and strategies:

Choose an optimal starting location

When the game begins, select a starting point in an open area, away from walls or obstacles. This provides more room for initial movement and growth without impediment. Look for a spot in the center or along the perimeter of the play area.

Move steadily and cautiously

As your snake grows longer, it becomes more difficult to navigate tight spaces or make sudden turns. Proceed at an even pace, surveying your surroundings with each move. Only change direction or speed gradually. Sudden movements can cause your snake to collide with itself, ending the game.

Consume dots methodically

Dots are distributed randomly in the play area. Rather than chasing after each one haphazardly, try to move in one general direction, consuming dots in your path. Only deviate from your course for dots that are very close by. This systematic approach will make it easier to keep track of your snake’s growing body and avoid traps.

Use walls and edges strategically

The borders of the play area can be used to your advantage. Guide your snake along a wall or edge, so you only have to monitor one side for collisions. When cornered, a wall can also provide an easy escape route. However, be very careful when navigating corners, as they limit your options for avoidance.

Look ahead to the next dot

As you get closer to a dot, start planning your path to the next one. Choose the most direct route that does not require any abrupt changes in direction. The earlier you plot your course, the less likely your snake is to become tangled or hit obstacles. With practice, thinking several moves ahead will become second nature.

Following these tips will vastly improve your skills and propel you up the leaderboard. Consistency and forethought are key. Keep at it, and your snake-wrangling prowess will grow in no time!

Common Mistakes to Avoid When Playing Google Snake

To dominate the leaderboard in Google Snake, it is critical to avoid common mistakes that often lead to losing your snake.

Rushing into food

In your haste to gobble up food and gain points quickly, do not guide your snake into the food pellets at full speed. This can cause you to run into your own tail or a wall. Approach food cautiously, especially in tight spaces. Slow down and be prepared to change direction quickly.

Not planning ahead

Do not just react to what is happening on the screen in the moment. Try to anticipate where your snake will be in a few moves and guide it to open spaces. Look for escape routes in case you get trapped. Think strategically to set up your snake to gobble multiple pellets in a row. The more you plan ahead, the higher your score will climb.

Panicking when trapped

If your snake becomes trapped or boxed in, do not just frantically tap the screen hoping to escape. Remain calm and quickly evaluate your options to find a way out. You may need to double back on yourself or do tight maneuvers to free your snake. Panicking will only cause you to lose control and the game.

Not maximizing space

Do not just stay in one section or corner of the screen. Use the entire playing area to your advantage. The more space you utilize, the more room you have to operate and the more pellets you have access too. Venture out and explore, but do so cautiously and with a plan in mind.

By avoiding these common mistakes, staying focused on the strategies, and keeping a cool head, you will be well on your way to dominating the leaderboard in Google Snake. With practice, these techniques will become second nature and allow you to achieve higher and higher scores.

Practice Makes Perfect: Improve Your Skills with These Drills

To improve your skills and ascend the leaderboards in Snake, consistent practice is key. Try these drills to refine your technique and outmaneuver your opponents:

Free Play

Simply start a new game and play for at least 10-15 minutes a day. Familiarize yourself with the game mechanics and physics. Pay attention to how your snake responds to different controls and speeds. The more you play, the more intuitive the game will become. Muscle memory will start to develop, allowing you to react quickly without much thought.

Obstacle Course

Set up a custom game with increased obstacles like walls, food, and enemies. Navigate through the crowded space, focusing on precision and timing. Start with fewer obstacles, and then increase the difficulty over time as your skills improve. This helps train you to make sharp turns, anticipate threats, and find openings.

Speed Trial

Select a short time limit, like 30-60 seconds, and try to eat as much food as possible before time runs out. Take risks and move at maximum speed. These sprints improve your reaction time, responsiveness, and ability to quickly scan the screen. With regular speed trials, fast and strategic movement will become second nature.

Slalom

Place food, walls and enemies in a zig-zag or slalom pattern. Maneuver your snake through the pattern at different speeds to improve control and handling. Take wide turns for stability at high speeds and tight turns for precision at lower speeds. Slalom courses teach you how to efficiently navigate complicated spaces.

Practicing these skills regularly will transform you into a Snake master. Your reaction times will be lightning fast, movements precise, and games instinctual. Keep at it and you'll be topping the leaderboards in no time! With diligence and persistence, you can accomplish anything. Now get out there and dominate!

Conclusion

You now have the skills and knowledge to advance quickly up the leaderboard in the classic Snake game. With practice, your score will continue to rise as your technique improves and strategic choices become second nature. Avoid complacency, continue honing your skills, and stay focused on the end goal. The leaderboard is within your grasp if you persevere. While the game appears simple, mastery takes dedication. Apply the lessons you've learned, believe in your abilities, and keep your eye on the prize. With determination, you will soon dominate the leaderboard. The path to success is challenging but rewarding. Now go forth and claim your place at the top!

[thewidowsghost]

Sunshine - Daisy Johnson x Romanoff!Reader

Main Masterlist

imapotatao asked:

Hey! I have a Daisy Johnson x reader request. When being sent to the future, Daisy and Reader meet their grandchild. Said grandchild is brought back with deke, they have no idea that they are their grandchild until something happens to reader and they think she won't make it. Or the grandchild says something that reader always says and Daisy puts it together. (That make sense? God, I hope so. Sorry it's long.)

Daisy Johnson leans against her girlfriend, as (Y/n) Romanoff shovels pancakes into her mouth, her fiery red hair making a curtaining plate as she eats.

"You know," Phil Coulson says, eating his own food. "I think this is really the first time we've all been together in a really long time."

(Y/n) hums in agreement, swallowing another huge bite of pancake and May smiles warmly at Coulson.

(Y/n) lets out a whine as Daisy steals a bite of pancake from her, and everyone - Mack, Elena (Yo-yo), May, Coulson, Daisy, and FitzSimmons - laugh.

"Why do you always have to steal my pancakes, Sunshine?" (Y/n) asks her girlfriend, a frown on her face.

"You know you love me," Daisy replies, gazing fondly at her girlfriend. Daisy grins mischievously, taking another bite from (Y/n)'s plate.

(Y/n) blinks affectionately at Daisy. "I do," she murmurs in Daisy's ear.

"Anybody have room for some pie?" a waitress asks

(Y/n) drops her fork in excitement as the others murmur their agreement.

"Okay, so we have apple, strawberry, rhubarb, and chocolate banana cream," the waitress continues, looking amused at the excited expression on (Y/n)'s face.

There is a crackle of electricity, and the diner powers down.

There is a whir of electricity, and all the SHIELD agents sigh as lights appear outside the restaurant, resembling headlights.

"Here we go," May grumbles.

A door slams open, and some of the other customers gasp.

(Y/n) looks sadly down at her plate of pancakes before, simultaneously, the agents sit up straighter, lifting their hands into the air.

"Phillip J. Coulson," A man with a calm voice says, appearing behind said man.

"Yep, that's me," Coulson says with an eye roll, his eyes fixed on his own plate. "You got us. Nice job. And hey, congrats on the whole power-outage thing," he adds. "It was very . . . ominous."

A device powers on, and there is an actual ominous high-pitch ringing noise.

"The window closes in less than two minutes," the calm voiced man says. "Take them."

. . .

All seven agents gasp as they finally regain their breath.

Daisy sneaks her hand into (Y/n)'s, interlocking their fingers as the agents look around the dark room.

"Is everyone okay?" Coulson asks.

"Yeah, I think so," Mack replies.

Looking around the room, Simmon's eyes fall on a white rock with red lines running through it.

The Monolith melts into a white sludge, like solidified milk, and washes over the seven agents.

. . .

When (Y/n) blinks, she finds herself standing beside, not Daisy, but a woman who looked a lot like her older sister, Natasha. The same splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks, the same fiery red hair, but she had familiar chocolate brown eyes, but (Y/n) shrugs off the younger woman's - she may have been twenty or twenty one - appearance for a moment.

"You," The woman turns to address (Y/n). "We've been waiting for you to come save us."

(Y/n) tilts her head questioningly.

"You must be (Y/n)," the woman continues and (Y/n) nods.

"How do you know me?" (Y/n) asks, frowning slightly.

The young woman replies, "Virgil and I always believed the stories."

"Believed what?" (Y/n) asks. "What stories?"

"Well, this one," she answers. "T-that you would - you would come and save us."

"Save who?" (Y/n) narrows her eyes.

"Humanity," the younger redhead answers, looking grim.

. . .

Coulson, Yo-yo, Simmons, and Mack are running down a hallway, Yo-yo shooting at one of the aliens chasing after them.

There is a rumbling, and Daisy Johnson is framed in the corridor where the alien had just been - it had been exploded.

"Right?" Daisy asks shakily.

"Yes, that was right," Coulson replies, "and not the only one."

Daisy looks around at the group, noticing the two missing bodies. "Where's (Y/n)? And May?"

. . .

Coulson, Yo-yo, Simmons, and Mack stalk cautiously behind Daisy, who walks with her hand out, ready to strike.

"This has to be the coolest we've ever looked," Coulson comments.

. . .

"My friend should be here somewhere," (Y/n) comments as the two redheads walk down one of the corridors.

There is an intersection and (Y/n) crashes into a familiar, shorter figure.

"Whoa," (Y/n) says as her girlfriend scrambles to her feet, raising her hand defensively.

"Hey," Daisy says, looking relieved, wrapping (Y/n) in a tight hug.

"Hi, Sunshine," (Y/n) says so softly that no one else but Daisy could hear.

"I suppose I'll leave you here, then," the younger redhead says.

"Thanks -" (Y/n) pauses, not knowing the younger woman's name.

"Natalie," Natalie replies.

"Thank you, Natalie," (Y/n) nods.

Natalie turns and walks off, looking around cautiously, leaving (Y/n) with her friends.

"Seems like it's just a lot of work just to keep this place afloat," Coulson comments, looking at the walls.

"But it's designed for humans to survive -" Simmons says. "Atmosphere and simulated gravity - and machinery seemed to be for reclaiming water, I think."

"Yeah, it looks man-made," Coulson agrees.

"Could possibly be a colony?" Simmons wonders aloud. "Moving mankind to the stars? Maybe that's what Virgil meant by 'humanity,'" Simmons goes on.

"That's what Natalie said, too," (Y/n) says. "Said she and Virgil had been waiting for us to arrive."

"I don't know," Coulson says. "That plasma gun wasn't man-made, and I don't think they could've built this place without some outside help. It's got some serious miles on it."

"Decades it looks like," (Y/n) comments, "but that means that this program had to have been started in the eighties by Howard Stark. And that doesn't feel right. Tony would've mentioned something."

"Yo-yo found something," Mack says, appearing out of the gloom.

(Y/n), Daisy, Coulson, and Simmons follow Mack, and they find a flare still lit on the ground.

As the group walks up to the flare, it goes out, and Coulson frowns.

The group lines up in front of the door, stepping back.

(Y/n) steps forward and kicks down the door.

The agents walk into the room, catching sight of the dead men on the floor.

Daisy sighs heavily. "Nothing," she says.

"Nothing alive," Yo-yo says.

(Y/n) kneels down, studying the fresh blood on the ground.

"Hey," Coulson says, noticing the blood, as well as Melinda May's jacket.

"They didn't get to her, did they?" Yo-yo asks, looking rather concerned.

"May would've put up a fight," (Y/n) replies.

Coulson nods. "And they left the other bodies here," Coulson adds.

"'Water reclamation,'" Daisy reads off a computer screen.

"You were right, Jemma," Coulson says.

"I figured it out using magic," Simmons replies, glancing at Mack with an amused gleam in her eyes.

Mack shakes his head, not looking the least bit amused.

The console beeps and Daisy leans over the computer. "I can try and find out a layout and track May," Daisy says.

"It's in English," Simmons says. "They're tracking debris fields called 'frozen oceans'."

Daisy types on the computer, and there is a silence that is only disturbed by the clacking of a keyboard.

"They're collecting water form ice in space," Simmons says and she and Daisy look up from the computer. "This is a colony."

"Which means unless they all came through a Monolith . . . " Coulson trails off.

"Then we're close enough to Earth for people to travel here," Daisy looks back down at the computer.

"And we can get home," (Y/n) says.

"Yes, bu just as important," Simmons adds, "collecting ice means they have a spacecraft, and if they have a spacecraft, they must have a laser-based rapid-transmission system," Simmons rambles. "If we can find the ship and fly above the debris field . . ."

"We can send a message," Coulson finishes.

"We can send a message to Fitz back on Earth," Simmons goes on.

"Okay, okay, so if I can find a layout, find a ship, find May, it's a start," Daisy says. "This interface looks similar to -"  the monitor beeps, and (Y/n) leans down to read the message, her hand resting on the small of Daisy's back.

"'Human access denied'?" (Y/n) reads.

"Coulson, do you recognize this language?" Daisy asks.

"No," Coulson replies, leaning forward to look at the hand print. "I don't think humans are running this place after all."

There is a thud on the door and (Y/n) moves her hand to rest on Daisy's waist.

The door bursts open and two blue aliens step into the room, through the doorway.

The aliens attack Yo-yo, and knock her to the ground and (Y/n) advances but one of the blasters smacks her in the ribs and she hits the wall, sliding down it with a gasp of pain.

Mack tries to knock down one of the aliens with a metal pipe, but the alien doesn't gall down.

The other blue alien raises a staff and a white light floods through the room, knocking everyone in the room out.

. . .

When Daisy comes to, she blinks deliriously, but she focuses herself faster when she hears yelp of pain from (Y/n).

Sitting up, Daisy blinks again, looking at Simmons who is wrapping a cloth around (Y/n)'s ribs.

"Thankfully they're not broken," Simmons says, tightening the cloth.

"Sure feels like it," (Y/n) mutters.

"Are you okay?" Daisy asks, looking worried.

"Don't worry, Sunshine," (Y/n) replies, wincing a little, but Simmons and Coulson share a look of amusement. "I'll be alright."

Daisy softens before looking at the rest of the jail. "Mack?" she asks. "Yo-yo."

One of the Kree says, "We'll leave the transgressors on the floor chief?" He pauses. "To use as he needs."

Daisy swallows thickly, glancing at (Y/n).

"He should be interested that they've removed their Metrics," the Kree continues.

Daisy stands up and stumbles over to the doors. She slams her hand against the door. "Hey," she says, her words slurring a bit. "What are you gonna do with our friends?" she questions and (Y/n) gets to her feet, her arm resting on her bruised ribs.

(Y/n) puts her other hand on Daisy's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Whatever we want," one of the Kree says. "Experiment. They knew the rule, and they broke it."

"They're not gonna make it easy for you," Daisy says, her eyes watering.

The two Kree walk towards the door, and (Y/n) gently pulls Daisy back.

"No," the Kree replies. "They'll beg for their lives as you humans always do. I've done twenty-two rotations and I have never observed anything else."

(Y/n) swallows thickly. She takes Daisy's hand and leads her back over to the bench. "They'll be alright, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs. "They're strong, the two of them." Daisy turns to study (Y/n), but even though (Y/n)'s words were meant to keep Daisy from worrying, but (Y/n)'s eyes betrayed her words.

. . .

"Okay," Coulson says. "New plan."

"The Kree have been abducting humans to this outpost for years," Simmons offers.

"Running experiments?" Daisy asks, pacing the room, and (Y/n) furrows her eyebrows.

"Well, their genetic work in creating Inhumans is well-known," Simmons says. "Maybe they're doing more of the same."

(Y/n) frowns.

"Yeah, well I'm not going to wait around to find out," Daisy says, raising her hand at the door. "So . . ."

She falters as the door opens, and three figures are framed in the door.

"May," Coulson says, taking a stop forward.

The older SHIELD agent is leaning against a familiar red haired woman, and a spiky haired young man beside them.

"Buddy!" the young man says, stepping into the room. "Just go with it," he whispers. "We've been looking everywhere for you guys," he says in a normal voice. "Man. What a mess back there, huh?" he asks. "These poor suckers," the young man turns to look at the Kree. "Virgil - you know, from R&R? He was trying to scam these guys out of some tokens. This one," he turns to May, "came running to me begging for help, the poor thing. When I get my hands on that no-good louse, he's gonna have some explaining to do."

"Where is Virgil, anyway?" Natalie asks.

"He's dead," Coulson replies.

"Good," Natalie says after a moment of silence. "Good," she turns to the Kree.

"He got what he deserved then," the young man agrees, nodding to Natalie, "didn't he, for trying to drag these poor transfers up from Processing into the Wet Works," he grabs Coulson's hand, showing it to the Kree, "just to steal their Metrics."

"So, he's just Roach food then?" Natalie asks.

"Oh, yeah," Coulson replies.

"One more vacancy, right?" the man asks.

"That's what I was gonna say," Coulson agrees.

"Guys," the young man stammers.

"What did we tell you about trusting Virgil?" Natalie asks.

"She's right, we did go over this. What did we say?" the young man adds.

"Don't trust Virgil," Simmons says.

"N-not to trust him," Daisy says simultaneously, her arms crossing.

"God, you repeated it back to us," the young man says, "and we said back - it was like a pass-and-catch thing."

"Look," Natalie turns to the Kree. "We really appreciate your help with these guys, but I can take them off your hands, even slip a few tokens your way for your trouble."

There is a moment of pause and the Kree warrior nods.

"Right, let's go," the young man says, and (Y/n) lets out a soft sigh.

Daisy keeps close to (Y/n) as the two walk down the hall after Natalie and the young, spiky-haired man at her side, May and Coulson in front of (Y/n) and Daisy.

"Don't worry, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs, soft enough for only Daisy to hear. "I'll be alright."

Daisy's chocolate brown eyes soften, the corner of her eyes crinkling cutely. "I love you," she says softly, and (Y/n) smiles.

"I love you too, Sunshine," (Y/n) replies softly.

The group stops as the young man and Natalie look down the hall.

"What the hell happened to Virgil?" the young man beside Natalie asks. "The Roaches get him?"

"Sorry to say," Coulson replies. "Was he a friend?" Coulson asks.

"Acquaintance," the spiky-haired man replies. "He owed me a ton of tokens for this job."

"Job?" Simmons asks.

"Deke!" Natalie says, smacking the young man.

Deke looks at Natalie before her replies, "All he said was that he wanted to hide some people. That's not unheard of. So I was hired to supply the Metrics and swap them out," Deke grabs Daisy's wrist and (Y/n) narrows her eyes, "but you guys don't even have Metrics,  which means you don't have the tokens to cover Virgil's end, so have fun."

(Y/n) wraps an arm around Daisy's waist, and Deke lets go of Daisy's wrist.

"Hey, wait, wait," Daisy says as Deke turns around. "We need your help. We need to find our friends," Daisy goes on

"Your friends?" Deke asks and Natalie glances warningly at him. "Your friends attacked a Kreeper. They're as good as gone. Those blues are bred to kill," Deke looks around, "so, so just - you make your peace with it."

(Y/n) pulls Daisy back a little as Deke looms over her.

"We'll take our chances," Coulson replies, and Deke looks over at him. "Listen, if you could just help us find them and then get to the spacecraft -"

"You mean the Trawler?" Natalie asks, looking surprised. "To do what?" she questions.

"The only pilot I knew was Virgil," Deke add, "and may he rest in peace," Deke shrugs, "apparently. So best of luck to all you guys, but mine's running out."

"Jeez Deke," Natalie smacks the man's arm and (Y/n)'s eyes flare with amusement.

"Well, Deke," Coulson says, "we just wanted pie, and now we don't know where we are or what's going on, and we finally found someone who does, so you're not walking away."

"I really wanted the pie," (Y/n) says wistfully.

Then the group stiffens as they hear Yo-yo screaming in pain.

May moves forward, twists a knob, and Deke rises of the ground, and sticks to the wall.

(Y/n) glances appreciatively at the older agent.

. . .

Daisy cracks through the pad, May, Natalie, Coulson, and (Y/n) standing behind her.

"All set," Daisy says.

"Good job," (Y/n) says, her eyes twinkling lovingly.

"Express train to the bottom of the Lighthouse, no stops," Daisy says, her hand coming up to brush against the inhibitor in her neck.

Natalie, May, and Coulson walk through the doors, and (Y/n) goes to take Daisy's hand, but Daisy steps back.

"Daisy?" (Y/n) asks, looking at her girlfriend questioningly.

"I'm not coming with you," Daisy says.

"Like hell!" (Y/n) says, frowning and glaring at her girlfriend.

"I know you're scared about going home," Coulson says, (Y/n) still fuming.

"No, I'm terrified," Daisy replies. "Look around. Billions of people gone. If there's a chance I'm the cause . . . I can't go."

"We can get through this together," May says.

(Y/n) looks away, a hurt expression crossing her face.

"You don't even have your powers anymore," May goes on.

"It's only a matter of time, and you know it. If there's an emergency or if one of you are in danger, I will need them, and we will find a way," Daisy argues. "If I go through that portal, you know it's the beginning of the end."

"We don't even know you did this," Coulson says, Daisy's eyes welling with tears.

"I was right in the epicenter," Daisy replies.

"I won't let you sacrifice yourself," Coulson says, "because you're scared of what's to come."

"What's to come is the end of everything," Daisy argues, her voice rising.

"If you can change the future here, you can change it back home," May says, gritting her teeth.

"But we know this solution works," Daisy says.

"I. Don't. Care!" (Y/n) shouts, clenched, her eyes filled with tears.

There's a pew noise, and Daisy drops to the ground, the dendrotoxin doing it's work.

Natalie gazes, wide eyed at the brunette lying unconscious on the floor.

(Y/n) tucks the ICER into the waistband of her pants, kneeling down to brush her fingers across Daisy's cheek.

"She's not going to forgive you," May says and (Y/n) glances up at her.

"I'm not leaving her here," (Y/n) picks Daisy up from the ground, and Daisy's head lolls to the side, resting against (Y/n)'s shoulder. "Let's go," (Y/n) says grimly.

. . .

May, Coulson, (Y/n) - who is still carrying Daisy - and Natalie walk down to meet Simmons, Fitz, Mack, Yo-yo, Flint, and Deke.

. . .

"What happened?" Simmons asks, her eyes falling on Daisy's unconscious figure in (Y/n)'s arms.

"She ICE'd her," May replies. "Daisy didn't want to come home."

"I wasn't going to leave her behind," (Y/n) says softly.

"Where's Yo-yo?" Mack asks. "She didn't find you?" he asks.

(Y/n) lies Daisy down on one of the couches on Kasias's lounge, Daisy's head resting in her lap.

"I'm sorry, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs. "I know you might not forgive me, but I couldn't leave you behind. Not like this." (Y/n) swallows thickly, blinking back her tears. (Y/n)'s fingers thread through Daisy's hair. "I love you too much to leave you here."

Coulson walks over to (Y/n), his eyes soft, and his voice is gentle, "It's time." He glances down at Daisy resting in (Y/n)'s lap. "Do you want me to take her?"

(Y/n) shakes her head. "No, I've got her."

(Y/n) shifts slightly, holding Daisy in her arms before she stands up.

Coulson stands beside (Y/n).

The rock turns to liquid and everyone - minus Daisy - looks around as they realize that they're in the same place.

(Y/n) lies Daisy down on a table, slips her hand into her pocket, and sets the box in Daisy's jacket pocket.

"Not like you'd want to," (Y/n) murmurs.

"Well that was a hell of a thing," Fitz says and (Y/n) smiles.

"Are you kidding?" Natalie says, looking around. "I'm from the future."

Coulson looks amused, then looks at Yo-yo, Mack, and Simmons. "I'm so glad you guys made it," Coulson says.

"Why are we still in the Lighthouse?" Yo-yo asks.

"Maybe Flint's Monolith didn't work," Mack offers.

Natalie looks around. "It took us to the same place, but in a different time."

Fitz nods at the redhead. "She's right."

"We're home?" Simmons asks.

"Yeah," Fitz says, and all the agents sigh with relief.

. . .

Coulson gives the agents some tasks, and (Y/n) has to remain in the same room as the unconscious Daisy.

(Y/n) opens one of the electrical panels but freezes when she hears a familiar voice.

"You ice'd me," Daisy's words are slurred. She shifts slightly, not noticing the velvet box in her pocket.

"I was . . ." (Y/n) pauses, a pained expression flashing across her face, ". . . kind of hoping you'd forget that part." (Y/n) stops herself before she says 'Sunshine.'

Daisy scoffs before she sits up, looking around at her surroundings. "Sorry to . . ." she falters, ". . . disappoint."

(Y/n) swallows thickly, focusing back on the problem in front of her she could actually fix.

"It looks the same, but we're - we're home, aren't we?" Daisy asks.

"I -" (Y/n)'s voice quavers, "- I couldn't leave you behind."

"Even with all of the risks that -" Daisy begins.

"I don't care," (Y/n) turns around, biting the inside of her cheek. "I need you here."

Daisy tilts her head, softening.

(Y/n) turns back around, fiddling with some of the wires.

There is a spark, and the lights flicker on.

(Y/n) sits herself on the floor, her back to her girlfriend.

Daisy softens even more, and gets to her feet.

(Y/n) jolts as she feels Daisy's arm wrap around her waist.

As Daisy leans into (Y/n)'s side, both women can feel the box (Y/n) had left in her pocket pressing against their sides.

Confused, Daisy reaches a hand in her pocket, pulls out the box.

"What's this?" Daisy asks. She opens the box and finds a pair of rings inside the box.

]Daisy's eyes widen and she stares at (Y/n).

"Marry me?" (Y/n) asks, meeting Daisy's chocolate brown eyes.

"Yes, is that even a question?" Daisy says, capturing (Y/n)'s lips in a kiss, pouring her love into the kiss.

Daisy's hand moves to the back of (Y/n)'s head, deepening the kiss.

Daisy pulls back from the kiss, to find a disheveled (Y/n) blinking back at her, her eyes wide.

(Y/n) shakes her head slightly, takes the sun ring from box and sliding it onto Daisy's ring finger, and Daisy does the same with the moon ring, sliding it onto (Y/n)'s finger.

(Y/n) leans into her new fiance's side, and Daisy smiles softly, her head resting against (Y/n)'s.

"I love you, Sunshine," (Y/n) murmurs.

"I love you, too," Daisy replies, her eyes gleaming happily.

. . .

"Plans are already in motion," Leopold tells Fitz, smoothing the front of his suit.

. . .

(Y/n) charges into the room and she finds a teary-eyed Daisy on her side, strapped to a table, and Fitz sitting in a chair beside her.

"Fitz? What are you doing?" (Y/n) asks.

There is the sound of a gun firing, and (Y/n) looks down, her hand coming up to her stomach.

(Y/n) slides down against the wall, her eyes glazing.

Daisy lets out a strangled, pained cry.

Simmons and Deke - who had somehow appeared a few days before - run into the room, Simmon's eyes falling on (Y/n), and her eyes widen in horror.

Daisy screams as Fitz cuts the inhibitor from her neck as Simmons and Natalie - who had just ran into the room - crouch beside (Y/n).

(Y/n) lets out a pained groan as Simmons presses against the wound.

"Don't worry, Sunshine," Natalie says, and (Y/n) is too dazed to realized what the redhead had said, but Daisy isn't, and her eyes widen. "You'll be okay.

Mack enters the room next, and he takes Fitz down into the holding area.

. . .

Daisy sits by (Y/n)'s side in the MedBay, holding (Y/n)'s hand.

Natalie enters the MedBay, and Daisy fixes her gaze on the redhead.

"Where did you hear the Sunshine thing?" Daisy asks, and the question startles Natalie a little.

"My mom would always talk about how adorable her mothers were," Natalie admits. "She said that one of her moms would call the other Sunshine. I always though it was the sweetest thing.

Daisy's eyes widen with disbelief. She studies Natalie's familiar features, the fiery red hair, the same splash of freckles across her nose, and chocolate brown eyes that matched her own.  "(Y/n) always calls me Sunshine," Daisy whispers. "You're our -"

"Grandaughter," Natalie finishes, her eyes wide.

Word Count: 4322 words

Skye / Daisy Johnson Taglist:

@imapotato

@confusinggemini612

@marie45019

[bastetwastaken]

Bad pick up lines 16: “I know all the digits of Pi, but I don’t know your number.”

Yugi sighed as he looked down at the book in front of him. His notebook sat open to the side, the page still blank as he struggled to work out where to start on his essay.

He wasn’t cut out for university life.

He’d thought that getting a degree in a subject he was really interested in would be fun. Oh, he was so wrong. It was horrible. He was not prepared for the jump in difficulty between leaving school and starting this degree.

This book was meant to be helping him! It was on the list of reading materials, so why was nothing in this book jumping out to him. He slammed it shut, wincing at the sharp sound in the silent library.

It was almost midnight. Why was he even there? He should be at home, sleeping. He leaned forward and pressed his head against the book he’d just closed. He was so tired. Why did he leave this essay so long to start?

“Hey.” A soft voice he recognised startled him and he looked up, finding his classmate looking back at him with a small smile on his face.

“Hi Atem.” Yugi said, sighing as he closed his still empty notebook.

“Are you okay?” Atem asked.

“Fine.” He said, a forced smile on his face. Atem laughed and pulled out the seat next to him.

“You don’t seem fine.” Atem said softly as he sat down. “No one who’s ‘fine’ gets so annoyed at books.”

Yugi shrugged, his eyes still on the cover of the book in front of him.  

“What’s up?” Atem asked.

Yugi shrugged again and moved the book he was attempting to read onto the small pile which sat to the side.

“This assignment is just…” He sighed.

“Shit?” Atem said. Yugi laughed.

“I was gonna say impossible, but yeah, that works too.” He said, smiling at Atem.

“At least it made you smile.” Atem said softly. Yugi blushed and looked away. “Do you need help though? If you need someone to run ideas by I’m here.”

“Oh… You don’t have to.” Yugi shook his head. “I’ll be fine, just need a break.”

“I really don’t mind.” Atem put his bag on the table and opened it, pulling out a laptop. “I was just about to work on my essay anyway, seems I’m not the only one who left this late hm? If you like we can work together.”

“It’s getting really late.” Yugi said. He knew the paper was due in two days but he was annoyed and didn’t feel like trying.

“True.” Atem smiled at him again. “I work better at night though, so I’ll be here for a while if you wanna stay.”

Yugi looked at him for a moment then nodded. Maybe having someone with him would motivate him to do something.

Atem smiled at him and placed a small bag on the table between them. “I don’t know about you, but I need something to motivate me while I work. Help yourself.”

“Thank you.” Yugi grinned and grabbed a few sweets, flipping back to the page he got to before he gave up.

They worked in silence for a while, Yugi envied the way Atem seemed to know what he was doing. His fingers flew effortlessly over the keyboard in front of him and Yugi was still staring at a mostly blank page. Why was this so hard for him?

Yugi sat back and groaned in annoyance. Atem stopped typing and turned to him.

“Okay?” He asked.

“No.” Yugi grumbled.

“Talk to me.” Atem said.

“None of these equations make sense. How is this meant to help us learn programming?” He sighed. “It’s just… pointless.” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, he would not cry over an assignment.

“Hey.” Atem said softly, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s alright. Let me help you.”

“I’m useless.” Yugi said. “You’re not going to be able to help me.”

“You’re not useless.”

“I might as well just quit. I’m never gonna pass this part of the course.” Yugi continued as if Atem had never spoken. “None of this makes sense, I can’t-“

“Yugi, shut up.” Atem interrupted him.

He opened his eyes and stared back at Atem, a part of him was annoyed with how he’d just been spoken to, but he couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry with Atem when he was looking at him like that.

“Talk to me.” Atem said again. “I can help you okay, I understand this well enough, so tell me what you need help with and we can talk about it.”

Yugi took a deep breath and looked down at Atems hand still on his arm. He knew the touch was meant to be calming him, but with the way Atem was gently rubbing his thumb over Yugis skin, it was having exactly the opposite effect.

He felt his cheeks heat up and coughed to try cover up the sigh he almost let out. He could see goose bumps creeping over his skin from Atems touch but he hoped that Atem just assumed he was cold.

“You know what’s weird?” Atem asked.

Yugi looked up and was immediately very aware of how close they were, he could feel Atems arm pressed against his own, his hand still rested on Yugis wrist and his face was so close.

“What?” He sounded breathless but he didn’t care.

“I know all the digits of Pi, but I don’t know your number.” Atem smiled at him, his eyes moved down to Yugis lips slowly.

“Oh?” He said, laughing as he looked down at Atems lips, his tongue flicked out to wet his own quickly. “We’d better fix that then.”

Atem laughed softly, leaning in further. Yugi smiled at him and brought a hand up between them, placing a finger against Atems lips. “Really?” He asked.

Atem nodded and stuck his tongue out making Yugi laugh and move his finger away to Atems chin instead. He looked away, quickly scanning the room to make sure no one was watching them before turning back to Atem and kissing him.

He sighed as Atem deepened the kiss immediately, a hand moved to his hair, pulling him closer. Yugi moved away, pressing his fingers against Atems lips to stop him following.

“You know, I reckon I can think of something better to motivate us both to finish this essay.” Yugi said quietly. Atem laughed and raised an eyebrow, taking Yugis hand in his so he could speak.

“Yeah?” He asked. Yugi nodded and bit his lip. “Well then, let’s get working.”

[hyunjilicious]

a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 2

A/n: I’m sorry it took me so long. I don’t like how this part turned out, at all, but I rewrote it 3 times and I can’t even think about these scenes anymore without getting annoyed. I’m just happy it’s finished and that I can start working on part 3 (that is, if you like this one enough to want to keep reading lol)

Summary: After you post on onlyfans a video starring another man, Henry decides to take matters into his own hands. (cameo: Steve Rogers) KINKY 4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mentions of smut and masturbation (male), humiliation/degradation kink, groping, mentions of porn and filming pornographic material, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry. (also tumblr crashed when I first tried to upload this so maybe that a sign this sucks)

You can read part 1 here!

-

The sight brought down a storm upon Henry's mind. He stood there, mouth agape, watching the screen, unable to believe his eyes. It was one thing to post videos of yourself on the Internet, but to have someone else take part in them was too much. At least for Henry. Still smart and composed, he realised there wasn't anything he could do about it, but nevertheless, he was determined to not let this shit slide for much longer. 

As much as he wanted to hunt down that man who dared put his hands on you, Henry gathered himself, took a deep breath and closed the onlyfans page. He was perfectly aware that just the right amount of you could get him to lose his sense of control and do things he'd later regret. Still, in desperate need to see you, he grabbed his phone, eyes scheming over your socials, only to see that the last time you had been active was 7 minutes ago. So, without much consideration, he started typing.

"You up?"

"Yep. Finishing up an essay. Coffee in 30??"

Oh, and how deeply that hurt him. "Of course" he sent you, and then checked again the post you made at 3am. '...I'll go to sleep right now, edit it for you when I wake up...'

You were lying? Why were you lying to him? It drove him insane. Henry felt like he couldn't sit down anymore, like he had no chance to catch his breath. He couldn't think straight, so he wasn't really to blame for what he did next. 

Henry's fingers flew over the keyboard, accessing Facebook and logging into your account, desperate to see whether he could find out who the man in your video was. And it was as easy as it could've been, considering your last 5 conversations were with the girl friends he already knew about. But somewhere among them, he spotted an unfamiliar name - Steve R., and instantly clicked and opened the conversation. His blood started to boil when the multitude of emojis you sent reached his eyes, but he scrolled up, until he found the beginning of yesterday's conversation. 

It was started by you, and with a request. You were blunt and went straight for it, asking him with just one message to be in the video with you. There was no trace of your relationship with him on the Internet, so Henry had no idea regarding the nature of yours and Steve's connection. Judging by the way you addressed him, he could easily assume the man was nothing more than a fuck buddy. Even though it angered him, Henry kept his calm and decided to go about this with care. It would only be a matter of time until he removed Steve from your life. But for now, he just had to keep digging for information. 

Steve R.: "Exactly what do you need me to do, baby? Spank you? In front of the camera? Are you serious?" 

"Yes, Steve. Come on!! I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but still... 😇 when it comes to these things, you know me better than anyone"

Henry scoffed. Who the fuck was this guy?

Steve R.: "I know, baby"

Steve R.: "What's in it for me?"

Smoke came out of Henry's ears, and the fact that you acted so sweet and innocent made him want to smash his keyboard.

"Whatever you want! Just do this for me!!! Please!!!! 🥺😊😋"

Steve R.: "Ofc I'll do it, sweetheart. I got you"

"Thank you thank you thank you 😘"

Steve R.: "I should be the one to thank you"

Steve R.: "Send me the location and I'll be over there asap"

After that, your address followed and then that was it. Determined to dig deeper, Henry started to scroll up again, wanting to find out as much as he could about this mysterious man. He didn't get a chance to lurk too much before this computer alerted him of a notification, the onlyfans tab glowing orange. His attention was instantly won, smiling devilishly as he checked the content.

Posted 30 seconds ago, was the new video. Ready to kick back and enjoy, Henry pressed the play button, ready to go at it with an open mind. 

He reluctantly accepted the fact that there was another man in it with you, but he decided to enjoy it nevertheless. The video started, displaying Steve seated on the couch, thighs suggestively parted. He had a pair of black dress pants on, dangerously stretched over his massive thighs. A white, elegant shirt hugged his visibly sculpted torso, the top two buttons undone to show just a hint of chest hair. Quite a sight, but all Henry saw was trash. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a silver watch on his wrist and a pinky ring on, Steve patted his thigh, cueing your entrance.

When Henry saw you, he felt his breath reach a new, sudden level of difficulty. With the shortest of skirts barely managing to cover your ass and a mostly see-through shirt on your top half, you made your way to him in such an angelic way that Henry couldn't believe his eyes. 

You looked like happiness personified, and it came in such a painful contraction to what you were about to do, that it twisted Henry's mind in such a perverse way, his cock nearly twitched just by seeing you. 

When you were about to bend over Steve's thigh, he grabbed your chin and stopped you mid action, his lips slamming against your as his free hand lewdly caressed your ass. He flung the skirt over your hips, your flimsy underwear on full display. 

Attentive to the events unfolding on the screen, Henry found his cock, teasingly rubbing it over the material of his pajama pants. His mouth watered when he felt the sensibility in his tip, actually believing this would be easier than he initially anticipated.

"Are you going to be Daddy's good little girl, or do I have to make this fucking hurt?" Steve asked and Henry almost threw up. 

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be good" you mewled, wiggling your feet. 

"Let's see" the man menacingly chuckled, releasing a sharp slap against your ass that made you yelp out in pain.

At this point, about 30 seconds in that was, Henry was already losing his mind. It was as if you took a trip inside his dreams and decided to play out his fantasies. The only problem was that you did it with another man. It was next to impossible for him to keep this going.

"Can you count?" Steve taunted, his hand traveling all over the back of your thighs, your exposed ass and between your legs. 

"Yes, Daddy" you eagerly nodded and Henry almost threw up.

"I wouldn't be surprised if a dumb slut like you didn't know how to" Steve chuckled, "But it's ok, that's how we like our girls. Dumb and pretty"

"Thank you, Daddy"

Henry couldn't believe his eyes. He refused to accept the fact that a random man got to play with your innocence like that. You were his sweet little girl. And if until now he pushed through heroically, when literal yelps of pain started erupting from your lips as the blonde man slapped your ass hard enough to rock your whole frame, Henry's blood ran cold.

But no matter how hard the jealousy had hit him, the video was still pushing his limits of self control. It was still what he always wanted to see. When he reached inside his pants and grabbed his cock, a low grunt of early satisfaction left his lips. He once again found himself picturing you, willing to please him, but this time, he didn't get to go too far. The buzzing sound of his doorbell rang through his apartment, and he never stood up faster.

Cock still hard and completely visible through his pants, Henry slapped the pause button and minimized the browser, before springing to his feet and rushing to the door.

"Henry!" you exclaimed as soon as he came into view. He looked somehow tired, but it was easy to tell there was something else bothering him. "You didn't answer your phone" you pouted.

"Yeah, sorry" he shook his head, a few sweaty curls falling against his forehead. "I was busy with something. What's up?"

You raised your eyebrows and pointed to the door of your apartment, "You said you'd come over? Coffee? Remember?"

"Oh, shit, yeah" Henry cringed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll be over in 10 minutes, that ok?"

"Sure" you beamed, completely oblivious to the way he just tried to get rid of you. With utter nonchalance, you pushed your way past him and strolled into the kitchen.

"You wanna wait here?" he muttered.

"Yeah... Is that a problem? I can leave..."

"No, no" Henry eventually sighed and rushed over to you. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. "Wait here, I'll be right back"

And that was what you did. You silently sat down, grabbing a bag of chips you found laying around, and settled to wait. And maybe, a few seconds passed where nothing devious came to mind, but as time ticket itself away, boredom got to you. First you stood up, and padded to the hallway, looking around. There was almost nothing new over there, but it still felt so homey you absolutely loved to inspect every detail. The TV in the living room was turned off, a couple of pizza boxes on the floor and his DVD cases laying around - absolutely nothing interesting.

You sighed and plopped down on his couch, folding your legs under your body, ready to flip through the channels on TV until he'd decide to join you. Nothing seemed of interest, being bombarded with news and fishing programs. "Old man" you thought to yourself, before opening up the menu in search for something less depressing. A wave of nostalgia hit you when you came across a Spiderman marathon, and you were done for. Maybe one full episode passed until Henry walked out of the bathroom, but you were nowhere near ready to leave.

"Look what's playing!" you beamed, pointing to the screen. Henry raised his eyebrows in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at your unusual choice of entertainment. 

"Are you serious? Cartoons?"

"Yes!" you scoffed, extending your arms and gesturing for him to join you. Although reluctant at first, Henry agreed to sit and watch the show with you, but not before brewing some coffee first.

When he returned from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in tow, you shuffled to the side and welcomed him on the couch. He brought you close against him, draping his arm around your body. With your head resting on his shoulder, you sipped your coffee, eyes glued to the TV. "You seriously never watched these as teen? You were 11 when it came out."

"I did" Henry laughed, rubbing his hand up and down your side, "I was in love with Felicia Hardy"

"MJ was so much better!" you shook your head disappointed, "You have no taste"

"No need for that" Henry threatened, his fingers exploring their way down your body. The way he trailed his hand across your hips and thighs made you squirm, smiling to yourself as you shuffled closer to him.

Henry was more than happy to reciprocate, kissing your forehead and squeezing you tighter. 

And just like that, you didn't care about Spiderman anymore. You flung your leg over Henry's lap, all but crawling on top of him. The episode was still playing in the background, but none of you was paying attention anymore. Henry wrapped his muscular arms around your frame, eliciting a soft moan from your lips as you pushed your hips down against his thigh. His hands traveled lower, exploring your body with delicate but greedy strokes. 

As you let yourself get carried away with absolutely no worry in mind, Henry knew exactly what he was doing. And considering how easily you let your guard down, he had you right where he wanted. 

When you hid your face in the crook of his neck, your nose rubbing across the slope of his collarbone, Henry's right hand found your ass. You froze for a second, but his gentle caress helped you relax again in an instant. With his lips against the top of your head, he allowed his fingers to sink into your flesh. Your whole frame stiffened as you gathered a handful of his hoodie into your fist.

"What's wrong?" Henry cooed, grabbing your chin, "You ok?"

"Yep" you whimpered, and then winced again as he squeezed your ass once more. "I'm good-" you lied, cupping the side of his neck into your palm as you crawled higher up his body, your lips right against his ear. 

As weak as he was for you, Henry stood his ground. If you wanted to play this game, he'd do it, but he wouldn't let you win.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, roughly groping your ass.

Jumping slightly from the pain, you still managed to shake your head, blurting out another lie. "... no"

"What about this?" Henry teased, grinning widely as he shoved his hands inside your leggings, under your panties. 

The urgency of his touch made your eyes open wide, your back arching as you tried to push yourself off of him.

"Does it hurt, darling?" he continued, keeping you in place with ease. 

Defeated, you sighed and lowered your gaze, "A bit" you mumbled.

"Just a bit?" 

"Henry-"

"Did he fuck you good?" 

Your mouth fell open. "What- no, I didn't- we didn't do anything-"

"Didn’t do anything?" Henry grinned, his perfect teeth showing as he proudly pried information out of you.

"I just... fuck-" 

Seeing no way out of this one, and eager to stop hiding, you pushed yourself back. Henry's hands left your body as you sat beside him, and he watched you curiously, patiently waiting for you to word your thoughts. "I just filmed a video for my page, that's all" you bowed your head.

"What kind of video?" Henry questioned.

His demeanour was so relaxed, he was right in his element, unlike you, who were riled up to the extreme. "A spanking video-" you cleared, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 

"Did he spank you good?" 

His hand found your hips again, and you leaned into his touch, nodding your head yes as you were too embarrassed to actually word your answer.

"Then show me" 

He was dominant and stern, and even if you wanted to, you felt like saying no wasn't an option. Henry didn't wait for your permission as he grabbed your waist and pulled you up to your knees, chuckling softly to himself when he saw you shyly smile down at him. 

His fingers curled around the waistband of your leggings, forcefully pulling them down your thighs. "Come on" he urged you, softly guiding you to lay down across his lap, your ass barely covered by the pinkish and slightly unflattering underwear you had chosen for the day.

Henry's breathing picked up at the sight, and so did yours. You watched him over your shoulder, his fingers tracing over the bruises Steve left on your bum the night before. 

"Henry-?" you whimpered, the anticipation building up in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear. 

"Yes, darling?" he cooed, leaning down to the side to kiss your cheek. His stumble tickled your skin and you whimpered when his hand made its way between your legs.

You felt his fingers against your opening and involuntarily clenched your thighs around him, hiding your face in the cushions of below your head.

"Tell me" Henry pushed, teasing your folds and clit over your underwear. 

"Nothing, I-" you cried, making him chuckle.

He loved giving you a taste of your own medicine. He straightened himself up and grabbed your ass into his hands, squeezing until you yelped out in pain. A soft laughter of approval escaped his throat as he bent down and pressed his lips to one of your cheeks, applying lingering kisses over each and every single bruise. 

The way he took control of the situation and handled your body, turned you on to no end. For whatever reason, being exposed like that for him, waiting for any kind of judgement to leave his lips, you were getting more and more riled up by the second. You were done for. You did your best not to moan with need, but little did you know that was exactly what kept you from being thrown onto the floor and fucked into oblivion. Just one single sign was all you needed in order to break his self control, but you didn’t have it in you to do it. 

But he didn’t say anything, instead just keeping you on your toes as he had his way. You were dripping through your underwear, and judging by the bulge in his pants that pushed up against your belly, you knew he was on the same page as you. But again, he didn’t allow things to go further. Everything about this moment pointed in the right direction - the teasing, the touching, you were all but whimpering in his lap, but he cut the moment short with a sharp slap against your ass before he helped you up. Henry acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened as he pulled your leggings back up, but this glare became colder when he found your eyes.

He bent down and spoke into your ear, "He could've done a better job"

Completely under his spell, you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't think I would have been able to take any more"

"That's not what I said" Henry shook his head.

"Look at you being an expert" you teased, relishing in the fact that he seemed eager to keep things going. 

"All I'm saying is that if you had asked someone else-" Henry laughed, stroking your cheek, "Things would have turned out much more different"

"Oh" you pouted, ready to tease him further. "Who should I have asked-"

Just when you started getting comfortable and confident enough to push things further, Henry's phone rang. "I don't have to take that" he shook his head when he heard you stopped talking.

"Just see who it is" you giggled, slapping his shoulder.

Before doing so, Henry grabbed your chin and kissed your forehead, his touch drawing you in like a magnet as you leaned into him when he pulled away. With a sigh, you eventually crawled off his lap and then your face fell with disappointment when Henry showed you the screen of his phone. 

"Yeah?" he huffed after picking up, his boss being the last person he wished to talk to right now. 

You watched him closely as he listened to whatever the man was saying, and almost whined out loud when Henry frowned annoyed.

"I'll call you back in 5, ok?" he asked and after a couple of seconds hung up.

"I'm so sorry-" Henry sighed, turning to you, "I gotta go take this, there's a problem with one of the radars, I need to go see if I can fix it remotely"

"Sure thing" you shook your head. "But please tell me you don't have plans tonight"

"I don't" Henry leaned towards you and again, kissed your forehead. As much as you loved the sweet gesture, it was now more than ever that you craved something else entirely. 

"And please don't forget about me again" you giggled, grabbing his biceps and stopping him from leaving without a promise.

"I won't" he sighed, "I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to you"

"However I want?" you beamed and licked your lips.

"Absolutely" Henry smiled, sweetly embracing you before walking you to the door.

You had his word now, and you were planning on making it count. There was no way either you or Henry would act as if nothing had happened, and you couldn't wait.

Once alone and seated at his desk, Henry opened up the text editor associated with the code he wrote months ago. When his screen was flooded with errors and his chat popped up with three different messages asking for help from his colleagues, Henry all but yelled out loud in frustration. Not only did he wish to be with you, it was also Sunday, one of his days off. But he couldn't just text the pilot of the plane whose radar went berserk and tell him to wait. So he got to work, determined to get this done as soon as possible. 

But unfortunately, that 'as soon as possible' turned into 3 hours of continuous work. He didn't even stand up to go to the bathroom until he made sure everything was on point. It was about 4pm when the program started running smoothly again, and seeing how he had a few more hours to waste until he had to see you, Henry decided to make the best of them, by getting a head start on his tasks for the following day.

Productivity flowed through his fingertips as he solved the first issue he had been assigned for the day to come, getting ready to start working on the second one when a call caught his attention. He didn't recognize the ring tone, and it only dawned on him that he was still logged into your facebook account a couple of seconds after it stopped ringing. 

Still curious, Henry switched the tabs on his computer, noticing that the chat with Steve, which he left open hours ago, showed that there was an ongoing video call. His jaw fell. Henry tightened his hands into fists, fuming with anger. First as you for doing this, and then at himself for allowing you to believe this was an ok thing to do. He knew there was no way to eavesdrop on your conversation even if he had the password, but that didn't mean his curiosity died down. No, it only grew stronger.

He felt lost for a minute, but then he thought of something. On his dresser, right next to his winter gloves and under his favorite jogging hat, laid an extra set of keys. Henry remembered the day you gave them to him, saying something along the lines of 'I feel much safer knowing that if something were to happen, you could always get to me, Henry.' and then remembered how you stuffed them in his pocket, and kissed his chest before stepping back. Such different times. 

There was no trace of hesitation inside his mind as he grabbed the keys and made his way out of his home. He passed the hallway in less than a second and pressed his ear to the door. It was perfectly quiet, and through the peephole, he couldn't see any light. You weren't in the kitchen or living room, so he felt confident enough. After putting his phone on vibrate, Henry ever so gently pushed the key inside, turning it inside the lock with the most meticulous movement his wrist could muster. The sound of the door knob being turned was so faint he barely even heard it, but his pulse skyrocketed when he heard the click that signaled the door was finally open.

With small, careful steps, he made his way inside. The entire apartment was dark and quiet as he made his way in, stopping just outside your bedroom as the relaxed, deep voice of a stranger became audible through the wall. “Trust me, sweetheart. Just relax, I got you. You’re all tense, I can see it from here. You know I have more experience with this than you do, just do as I say”

With one hand on the doorknob of your bedroom, Henry was ready to put an end to this whole charade. He knew he might regret it later, but he didn't care. The image of a so called friend, pushing you to do anything that you seemed to have clearly stated your discomfort about, flipped a switch inside his brain. There was no stopping him because no one, no one got to push you around like that. Not while he could do anything about it.

[skzsauce01]

Harmony

Synopsis: Dogged by a shameful past, you try to fit as your new identity in a new dance program at a renowned music conservatory. The school heartthrob and world-class violinist takes interest in you, which would be fine if he wasn’t also your childhood best friend.

Warning: hysterectomy, infertility, panic, mention of murder disclaimer: fertility does NOT determine your worth as a person

Word Count: 10.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x Kim Seungmin

There he is. Of course, there he is. Where else would the handsome prodigal son of the most prominent violinist go if not the best music conservatory in the country? You watch his bleached head of hair make its way across SKZ Conservatory of Music’s courtyard as fans flock him from behind. 

As for you, you sit on a random bench by yourself, waiting to start your first day at the conservatory’s new and nameless dance program as Emily Regan, not Y/N L/N, and most definitely not the gifted Kim Seungmin’s long-lost childhood best friend.

You must have stared at him too long, for he catches you and smirks. Blushing, you quickly clear your throat and head to class. He couldn’t have recognized you, right? No, you definitely look nothing like you did when you were six. If so, then why is he following you? You speed up, and while he makes no attempt to do the same, he surely is still on your tail. You turn the last corner and he does the same. You enter a room and take a seat. He— oh, you have the same class. First year literature. Just your luck. 

He walks by where you are seated and stops. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

You wish the ground would swallow you, but at least he didn’t call you Y/N or something like that.

“R-Regan. Emily Regan,” you mutter.

“Oh, American?”

You nod, still avoiding his eye.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Emily. I’m Kim Seungmin.”

He extends a hand out to shake, and you take it hesitantly. You aren’t sure you are on first name basis yet, but Kim Seungmin does what Kim Seungmin wants, you suppose.

“Hello, Kim.”

He smiles and takes the seat next to you and you wish you could disappear. But you can’t, so you excuse yourself to use the washroom. You thought you could get another spot when you returned, only to find him reserving your spot next to him for you.

The whole class, you do your best to focus on the professor, but he makes it difficult for you. He makes no effort to hide that he’s stealing glances at you, and fear creeps up your spine. What if he connects the dots and realizes you are your father’s daughter? He’d hate you, that’s for sure. After all you’ve done to him, it’s only natural.

You shake your head and he looks at you curiously. No, the one who did all that isn’t you, but Y/N L/N. You’re Emily Regan now. You just have to make sure you keep it that way.

Still, you’re glad to be able to see him again.

You know you should not be doing this, and there is no reason for you to potentially embarrass yourself even more, but you cannot help yourself. His pieces of work are right there, and his door was propped open so that you could see the music inside. So, you let yourself in.

Being the son of a major benefactor of the school, Seungmin has his own studio on campus. Instruments of all sorts line the wall and his Stradivarius violin lays on the table beside the draft of his latest composition. No one will steal it anyway; it’s chipped and insured. 

It does, however, mean that Seungmin probably just stepped out for a bit, so you’ll have to be quick. You look at his piece and hum the notes to yourself.

A small smile forms on your lips as you read the sheet. It’s a duet, and he’s only written the second violin part for now. 

This whole thing feels familiar. Reading music with him, cheek to cheek, is something you did often. In fact, that’s exactly what you were doing that day you got that call to rush home only to find where you once lived was turned into a slaughterhouse. Your fingers curl around your cardigan as you recall that day. It was Albinoni’s Adagio. You shake your head and refocus on the notes before you, humming a little louder to drown out your thoughts. You need to finish before—

“You have perfect pitch.”

—Seungmin returns.

You shoot up straight and turn slowly around. Seungmin leans against the door with his arms crossed.

“You have perfect pitch,” he repeats, walking over to his piano. He takes the sheet and plays it on the keyboard. “You weren’t even a microtone off.”

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t—”

He holds up a hand to silence you. “You’re a dance major, right? Do you play anything?”

You shake your head and lie. “Not really.”

“That’s a shame. Well, it’s never too late to start.” He picks up his violin and hands it to you. “Do you want to hear how the piece actually sounds?”

Your eyes widen at the familiar instrument and you visibly flinch backwards to which he raises a brow.

“Emily? Something wrong?”

“No, er, I, uh…” What should you say? “I’m alright. Thank you, and sorry for intruding. I need to use the washroom now.”

“Hold up,” he calls, effectively making you freeze in your step. “You don’t think you can just walk in here and leave unscathed, do you?”

“W-what do you mean?” you laugh nervously.

“You’ve got to pay the admissions fee,” he replies. “If you don’t play the violin, then here.” He hands you his music. “Compose the first violin.”

“What? I don’t even play!”

“You can try, or I can call security. You might even get suspended,” he smirks.

You open and close your mouth soundlessly. If you fail here as Emily Regan the dance major, then what will become of you? You have no choice but to concede and take the paper from his hands.

“Great. It’s only thirty-two bars, so bring it by tomorrow!”

“But I—!”

He takes out his phone and begins dialing the number for security while reading out each digit.

“Fine! I’ll do it!” you relent.

He grins victoriously. “Great!”

You frown at your new project. “But if I may ask, why the first violin? Don’t people usually compose both at once or the melody part first?”

“I like playing second best,” he answers casually.

This you remember from your childhood days, but that was long, long ago, and only because you always wanted to play first. His skills have improved tremendously since then. Anyone who calls Kim Seungmin a second violinist these days would surely be mocked. “Second? But you’re a renowned soloist!”

“I just haven’t found the person I want to follow yet.”

There’s a pain in his voice that makes you bite your own lip. Even if that person is still here, how can he, the prodigal son from the greatest violinist in the nation, stand next to, let alone play with again, the child of a pariah?

“I better get started on this,” you excuse yourself. You can’t bear to see the scars you left on him any longer.

Seungmin finds you the next day with your face on your desk. 

“Rough night?” he chuckles.

You pop your head off the table and swipe your hand over your mouth to rid it of any drool. At this point, you should give up ever looking good in front of the school’s heartthrob. 

“Here,” you cough, sliding over your work. “I’m forgiven with this, right?”

He hums approvingly and pulls up a keyboard on his phone. After playing it once, he shakes his head and pulls out another score and places it in front of you. 

“This won’t do. Try again.”

Your eyes widen. “But—!”

“You didn’t put yourself into this piece did you?”

How can he say that after you spent all night researching and writing drafts, trying to make something that wouldn’t disappoint the great Kim Seungmin? You open your mouth, however, no objection comes out. Something in you knows he’s right.

“Take your time with this next one. Just bring it to my studio when you’re ready, okay?”

You give a small nod and look at the paper on your desk with dread.

“But you did work hard on this,” he continues, “so here. A reward.” He slides a cup of coffee to you.  “Tell me what you like and I’ll get that next time.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to,” you say, a little surprised by the gesture. “This time or the next.”

“Oh, come on. A little boost is nice after a rough night, isn’t it? How many hours did you even sleep?”

Good question. You’re curious yourself. You went to bed at four and were awakened at seven by your bladder, so one, two, “Three.”

He looks at you weirdly.

“What?” you defend. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“You’re not from America, are you?”

That came out of the left field. “What?”

“Americans count like this.” He raises his index finger then his middle and then his ring, counting a number with each digit. “But you went like this.” He holds up five fingers and progressively puts one down, starting from his thumb.

“I must have gotten used to it here already,” you laugh sheepishly. “Oh look, the professor!”

You feel his stare, but thankfully, he does not say anything else after the instructor greets the class.

The next attempt takes you eight days. You wouldn’t mind a little longer to work out the finer details, but seeing him in class pressures you to just turn it in.

You hold your breath as he scans over your new attempt. Your nervousness does not last long though as he does not even bother playing it and instead drops it right into the bin. He takes out yet another copy and slams it on the table in front of you.

“I really am trying my be—”

“That’s not what I’m looking for,” he cuts sternly. “Remember what I said. I want you in this piece. Not your best— you.”

“I—”

“No. Look here. Look at me. Focus.”

You gulp and do as told. His lips are pursed and his eyes intense.

“What do you feel?” His question sounds more like a statement.

“Happy?” you try.

He scowls.

“Sad?”

“No, you don’t,” he says. “Look at me. What do you feel?”

You rack your head for emotional words. What answer could he possibly be looking for? “Attraction?”

Seungmin breaks his seriousness and laughs loudly. “Attraction?”

“I mean, you have all those fans and the looks, wealth, and talent,” you try to explain, “so I thought you were looking for that.”

He pokes your forehead. “This isn’t about me or what I’m looking for. It hasn’t been since I gave you this piece. Think about it honestly. What does Emily Regan feel?”

Emily Regan? “Frustrated.”

Another shake of his head. “Deeper. Think. What do you feel?”

You bite your lip and flick your eyes to meet his. What do you feel? What do you feel, posing as a dancer here at SKZ Conservatory in front of Kim Seungmin?

“... shame.”

He smiles bittersweetly and hands you a pen. “Write,” he whispers gently.

You stare at the empty bars, pen quivering slightly above the page. Finally, you draw a small oval in a line.

You write and write, humming the notes to yourself and not realizing how time has passed. When you finally finish, the sun has already gone down. You look up and see Seungmin with his elbows resting on the table across from you and his hands clasped, not having moved a centimeter for the past few hours.

When you finally put down the pen, he turns the sheet towards himself. He stares at it for a good ten minutes before standing up with it and pulling out his Stradivarius. From his phone, he first records him playing his own composition and then plays yours over it.

The whole thing could not have been more than five minutes, but to you, it feels like an eternity. 

At last he finishes the piece with an up bow and brings his arm in a circle to his side. He stares at your work for a few more silent moments before saying, “Have you published music before?”

That certainly is not the comment you were expecting. “No?”

“It’s… familiar. I don’t mean the piece, but the style, it’s…”

“Well, do I pass?” you cut in before he can think too much of it.

He sets down his instrument. “It’s a little bland, but I'll take it. Good work, Emily.”

“I’ll be taking my leave then. Goodbye, Kim.”

“Wait—” He calls after you, but you are already out the door.

You speed walk until you are in the safety of a nearby washroom. You rest your back against the stall door and let out a sigh. Does he remember the amateur pieces you made almost two decades ago? Did you accidentally just expose yourself? No, prodigy or not, there is no way he can connect you to Y/N L/N just from thirty-two bars of music. At any rate, it’s best to lay low from him for now, you decide.

Laying low does not really work when you are one of the few members of the conservatory’s budding dance ensemble though. Seungmin is hosting a charity concert and requested dancers for his show. You manage to finish your numbers for the night without complications and are now waiting in the wings for the curtains as Seungmin begins his final piece.

You close your eyes and allow yourself to enjoy his music until something about the tune strikes you. Your eyelids flutter open as a familiar melody fills the auditorium. It’s your piece! Sure, he wrote it into a solo, but the resemblance is unmistakable. 

When he finishes, he bows and makes a speech. Your classmate nudges you to snap you out of your surprise and urges you onstage for the curtain call. The whole time, you stare at Seungmin, unsure of what to make of the situation. 

At the end of his speech, he gestures for the dancers to come forward. He meets your eyes with his usual smirk and grabs your hand for the bow.

When all is done, you want to find an explanation for that last piece, but your bladder demands to be released right at that moment. You’ve been finding yourself needing to go more and more or the area starts to hurt, so you quickly relieve yourself and speed out. To your luck, it seems Seungmin took his time packing up his violin; you see his silhouette just across the field from the performance hall.

“Wait,” you call out, running after him. He doesn’t hear you until you are closer. “Wait!”

Seungmin turns around as you stop in front of him, resting your hands on your knees to catch your breath.

“Emily?”

He takes a look at your state. You’re still in your costume from having rushed out, and your sheer asymmetrical skirt is doing nothing for you against the night wind.

He shakes off his coat and wraps it around you. “Are you here because of that last bit?”

You nod and stare at him, hoping your gaze draws an explanation out of him.

“It’s a good piece. I felt the need to share it.” He fixes the collar around your neck. “I know I should have asked first. I’ll buy you food sometime to make up for it, yeah?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter that you played it; I just want to know why you did it.”

“I told you already. I like it,” he shrugs.

“You like Paganini. You like Strasate. Anything from them or even something you wrote would have made a better finish. Why this?”

“It’s a charity concert for the needy. Your piece had fitting emotions.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Is there really nothing else?

“Hold on.” He narrows his eyes back at you. “How do you know so much about composers?”

“I— It’s— This is a music conservatory! I’ve just seen their names around in murals and such!”

“Makes sense,” he nods.

“Good. Well then, have a good evening, Kim,” you bid, relieved, and begin to turn around.

“Do you want me to walk you back to the dorm? It’s quite late,” he offers.

You turn around but do not stop walking away. “I still need to change. Thank you though!”

It is only when you’re in the green room do you realize you still have his coat.

“Kim,” you call out, shuffling your feet quickly after him.

A wide grin spreads over his face as he turns around and sees your form. There’s a tuba on his shoulder. “Emily! Looking for me?”

You nod and thrust forward the bag in your hand. “Your coat. I came to return it.”

Seungmin dramatically wraps his hands around the instrument. “Oh no! My hands are full right now! Could you bring it to my studio in fifteen minutes?”

Your grip on the bag tightens in frustration, but he leans towards you, tuba looming overhead, and blinks thrice.

“Please? I’ll make it worth your effort.”

You fumble backwards, flustered, and drop your hand and the bag to your side. “Fine,” you relent. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes,” he promises. As you walk out of the music hall, you hear a tuba playing fanfare.

Fifteen minutes later, you knock at his door which opens before you even finish your first knock. Seungmin greets you and gestures inside where a plate of mochi sits on his table with two cups of tea.

“Care to join me?” he invites.

You again hand him the bag and keep your feet planted where they are. “I think I’ll have to pass, but thank you.”

“Aw, don’t you like sweets?” He reaches for the plate and circles it around your face.

Still, you shake your head. “Again, thank you, but based on the last few times I was in here, I would rather not be.”

“I promise not to make you compose again. Just come in before the tea gets cold!”

“Why do you want me to anyway?”

“Huh?” His eyes widen at the question.

“I mean, other people have perfect pitch, yet you only sit with me to work through a composition. You sit next to me and buy me coffee and now you’re inviting me to tea. Why are you so interested in me?”

He tilts his head to the side. “‘Cause I like you, obviously.”

That sets off your alarms. Quickly, you dart your eyes around, looking to see if any of his fan girls are around to hear that and murder you. You then push him into the room and slam the door behind you.

“Excuse me, what?” you exclaim.

He sits by the food, crossing his legs. “I. Like. You.” he repeats slowly.

“B-b-b-but that’s impossible,” you sputter. “Curious? Maybe. But attracted to? No.”

He chuckles. “Why not? I mean, it did start out as curiosity, but the more I poked around, the more intrigued I became. You’re a woman full of mysteries, Emily. I like that.”

You put your hands in front of you and slowly back up. “No, no. No. No. There’s nothing to me at all. We don’t know each other very well. Of course a stranger is going to have a lot of unknowns. Once you get to know me, you’ll find that you’ve wasted your time and energy.” You like your acquaintanceship right now. Even being ignored by him is totally fine, but if he ever finds out who you are, he’ll hate you and spit on the person you’ve tried so hard to become.

“Oh really?” He stands and advances to you, making you shrink. “Then let’s put your theory to the test, shall we?” 

“What do you mean?” you gulp.

“You answer my questions and I’ll see if I still like you then.”

“Q-questions?”

“Yeah. We can go slowly if you’d like. Maybe one a day? How does that sound?” 

When you don’t respond, he begins. “Why do you seem so afraid of touching a violin?”

“I— uh…”

“Why did you lie about your home country? Why did you feel ‘shame’? Why did you sneak into my studio to look at my work yet claim to have no interest in music?”

With every question, he takes one step in your direction, finally backing you up against the wall. 

“And” —he lowers and softens his voice— “how does it feel to kiss you?”

“I’ll— I’ll—” You squirm in your shoes, head down and fists balled. The silence is deafening between your stutters, but he makes no effort to fill it, waiting patiently for your response.  “I’ll answer the last one,” you finally squeak.

“Alright then.”

You hear one of his hands pressing on the wall behind you and feel the other coming up to your jaw. He leans closer and closer and you squeeze your eyes tighter and tighter. You’re shaking so much, you can’t tell if you’re even still standing anymore.

His breath fans your lips as he suddenly chuckles and straightens up. He leaves a quick peck on your forehead and steps back.

“You don’t have to do things you don’t want to, Emily.” He has a soft smile which you stare at with surprise at the turn of events. “Doesn’t mean I’ll stop annoying the daylights out of you though,” he adds cheekily.

He slides the mochi back into the box they came in and hands them to you. “Go back to your dorm. Maybe we’ll continue our interrogation next time. Oh, and there’s a closer toilet if you turn right since you seem to go all the time.”

You stand there, mochi in hand, with your jaw opening and closing without any audible sound. He laughs again and turns you around towards the door.

“Go, before I poke you with my bow.”

Mention of a violin snaps your soul back into your body. “Okay, okay. Goodbye, Kim.”

“Thanks for returning the coat,” he calls after you as you disappear into the washroom on the left.

“Remember to choose a partner for this project. Let me know if you can’t get one by next week,” your literature professor concludes and whisks out the door.

You feel the entire room turn towards your direction no thanks to the one and only Kim Seungmin sitting next to you. He himself turns toward you with a plotting grin.

“Emily.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, pain rippling through your belly as you do so. There is no point resisting, and you don’t feel up to it today anyway.

“Are you free tonight? I’ll pick you up after your practice and we can get a head start.”

That night, you already know who has just arrived when the girls come squealing into the locker room. You couldn’t care less though. You try to rub away the pain that’s nagging at your belly and fumble around for some pain killers. You allow yourself five minutes after tossing back the pills, but begrudgingly drag your feet outside so as to not keep Seungmin waiting. 

He greets you with an electrolyte drink which you take and thank him for as discreetly as possible without catching the attention of his fans. He thankfully seems to take the hint and follows you outside, only fully approaching you when the last of the girls retreats back into the changing room.

“Ready for our project?”

“You’re awfully excited for homework,” you comment.

“It’s not just any homework.” He bumps you with his shoulder. At that moment, another wave of pain grips your stomach, causing you to stop in your step and bend over.

“Did I nudge too hard?” he gasps. “I’m sorry!”

You shake your hand. “Just… premenstrual cramps. It’s a little hard to manage these days,” you squeeze out.

He walks you to a nearby bench and kneels in front of you. He opens your drink for you and wipes sweat from your forehead.

“Are you okay? Do you want to go home and rest for today?” he asks worriedly.

“I’ll be fine in a bit; I just need the medicine to kick in. Sorry for delaying us.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He takes your hand and massages the pressure point between your thumb and index finger. “Is there anything you need?”

You assure him that you’re fine and can continue with the scheduled homework session which you know he cut short with one excuse or another. You two do the bare minimum on the assignment before he “realized” he scheduled an appointment to restring his violin. After Seungmin walks you to your dorm, you quickly put on a liner and head to bed.

That night, you learn that a liner was a mistake. You wake up as you often do by a call from the bathroom. Groggily, you swing your legs off your bed and are startled by a loud ‘squish.’ Too distracted by the gnawing in your pelvis, you think nothing of it, until you open your door and the hallway lights pour into your room, illuminating your blood-covered feet. With a gasp, you quickly turn around and see the trail of red behind you. You quickly reach for your heaviest pad only to be gripped with the worst shock of pain you’ve had yet. You fall to your knees then ultimately to the floor.

Waking up on the floor makes you forget where you are, and realizing that you are laying in a pool of blood and urine does not help. It takes a moment for you to recover from the shock the state of your room gave you, but when you do, you decide to get yourself cleaned up first then deal with the room later.

Twenty minutes later, you again face the disaster that is your dorm. Thankfully, you do not have literature today, so no one— and by no one you mean Seungmin— will notice if you take a day off to take care of it.

You begin pulling off your bedsheets to wash when you hear a knock at your door. You panic and look around. It doesn’t take a genius to know your room is in no condition for a guest right now.

“Emily?”

And of course it has to be Kim Seungmin. You freeze in your spot, not knowing what to do.

“Did she leave?” you hear him ask himself. This is good. You hope he leaves.

“I guess so,” he mutters. 

You hear some plastic shuffling outside and then his retreating footsteps. You breathe a sigh of relief which you immediately regret because of the pain that comes with breathing too heavily. Your periods have never hurt this much, you note with worry.

You return to your sheets until your phone vibrates with a notification.

Kim Seungmin- Lit [10:59 AM]: Hope you’re feeling better. I left some soup and food at your door since it seems like you aren’t home.

Kim Seungmin- Lit [10:59 AM]: Call me if you need something. Or if you need a ride to the hospital.

Hospital? You rub your abdomen, wondering if the pain warrants a visit. You take some more painkillers and eat the food before finishing cleaning your room. As you leave the washing machine running downstairs, you sit at your table after another washroom stop for a quick nap. You nestle your head in your arms and close your eyes…

… and open them a few hours later, feeling like you’d rather be dead. You can barely breathe and your room spins around you. You don’t even remember to grab your keys as you stumble out the door. Hospital, hospital. No, the hospital’s too far. The conservatory’s health center will have to suffice for now, and it’s only two buildings away.

You must look really unwell, for as soon as you step into the facility, there are already three staff members rushing to your side. You aren’t sure what happens next. It looks like your arrival caused quite the commotion, but all you can hear is Mozart’s Requiem playing somewhere. The world is closing in on you, and you feel your legs give out.

“Seungminnie…”

You wake up to the humming of machines in a hospital room. You realize they transferred you when you see an old lady sleeping in the bed beside yours.

Thankfully, you feel much better now, though you suspect it has something to do with IV connected to your wrist.

Seeing that you are awake, a nurse comes in to check your vitals.

“Are you feeling alright, Miss Regan?” she asks.

You nod and thank her as she replaces your IV bag.

“The doctor wants to see you in a bit for your consultation, but I need a bit of information from you first. We couldn’t find any family members attached to your name, so you’ll have to fill out some forms for yourself, alright sweetie?”

After making sure you are able to, she hands you a clipboard which you complete steadily until one section. “Emergency contact,” it reads.

Seeing your hesitation, the nurse chimes in. “It can be anyone. A friend, teacher, anyone you can trust just in case, you know?”

You smile politely. "May I leave it blank?"

The nurse looks stunned. "I suppose, but what if something happens?"

"You can call a lawyer."

She looks doubtful but stays quiet save for the few instructions she gives to reach your doctor’s office. As you walk there, you think about what just happened. Emergency contact? You'd just moved here for school. Your mother passed during childbirth, and your father— Emily Regan doesn’t have a father. There's no one you could have put down, you tell yourself. No one. Not even a certain overzealous violinist. 

You knock twice on the door you were told. 

“Miss Emily Regan?” the doctor greets as you walk in.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Nice to meet you. My name is Doctor Lee. How are you feeling right now?"

"A lot better."

"Glad to hear it. Please take a seat. Tell me, have you experienced frequent urination lately?"

You walk out of the pharmacy with a paper bag in your hands. Your heart drums in your ears but for a completely different reason this time. What will this mean for you? You’ll need to be resting for two months after the procedure, and as a dance major, this means you can’t attend class. Never mind its impact on your school year, what will this mean for your entire life? Your father has already tarnished the name Y/N L/N. You’ve tried so hard and lied so much just to make Emily Regan real. What have you made her into now? Dirty. Fiendish. Despicable. Even if you escaped being the daughter of the most hated artist who shamed his whole nation, you’ll never escape who you really are. And now this? Your hand unconsciously rises to your belly, rubbing it. It’s only further proof of what a defect you are. 

It is around four by the time you arrive back at the dorms. Thankfully, the hospital phoned your resident assistant who has your keys for you. You’re still distracted by your thoughts as you approach the building and nearly miss the man pacing up and down the front door.

Seungmin has his shoulders hunched and hands clasped together as he blows on them to keep warm, his grey cardigan not doing much against the evening chill. 

“Kim?” you call out, not believing your eyes. You are, after all, on a lot of drugs.

He immediately runs towards you when he recognizes you. You stand where you are and wait for him to come, now believe that he truly is here. Was he out here waiting for you? Your hand curls around your belly. He shouldn’t be wasting his efforts like this on someone like you. Never mind the faults of Y/N, even as Emily, you no longer deserve the love of someone like Kim Seungmin. You’d never wish for your childhood best friend to be with someone as flawed as you.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire as he stops in front of you, raising his hands as if wanting to hold you but is afraid you’d break under his touch.

“You didn’t pick up the phone…” he whispers. “You weren’t home and you didn’t pick up the phone…”

“I… had something going on.” You tuck away your prescription in your coat. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t—”

“Kim.”

“—the phone—”

“Kim Seungmin!”

His eyes look up to meet yours and you see the daze being snapped out of them.

“Huh?” 

You exhale sharply and repeat. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dorm doesn’t allow guys past twelve,” he replies matter of factly.

Your brows knit together. “You were out here for four hours?” 

He nods. “Where were you? You were sick yesterday, and now you’re off the map until four in the morning.”

You shouldn’t have snapped. You know what he means by his words, but you aren’t exactly having the best day, and Seungmin isn’t supposed to be here. You aren’t who he actually likes. You aren’t the six year old Y/N nor are you an ideal bachelorette. No, you are some imposter and you hate it. You hate it, so you state flatly, “Why does it matter to you where I was? If you’re worried about the literature project, then I’m sorry. I promise to finish it on time, but it was you who ended the homework session early yesterday, and as far as I’m concerned, we don’t have anything scheduled for today. Thank you for the meal earlier, but if stuff like that’s going to make you feel entitled to knowing about my every whereabouts, then please stop doing it.”

“That’s not what I—”

You close your eyes and let your head roll back. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, so please just leave me alone for a bit.”

You walk past him, expecting the conversation to be left at that. You hear him hesitating, which you also expect, but you are not ready for the:

“No.” 

Seungmin runs in front of you and spreads his limbs out, blocking your path. “You’re suffering. I don’t know from what, or if it’s even really period cramps, but you are. I’m not letting you do it alone.” He sucks in his cheeks as he tries to find his next words. You half expect him to take you to his studio and sit you down with a drink until you give him at least a hint of what’s happening, but he surprises you with, “I’m not saying you have to share it with me, but you need to have someone.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t,” he objects. “And trust me. I’ve seen a man try and it cost him his life and his daughter.”

The familiar story makes you freeze. Despite yourself, you ask, “Who?”

“My father’s best friend. The late violinist, L/N.” 

“T-the one who turned out to be a murderer?” Why are you saying this? Just leave him and go!

Seungmin approaches you now that you’ve stopped. His presence makes your eyes water. “He only got involved with the wrong people and ruined his name because he tried to deal with the grief of losing his wife on his own. He even hid it from his own best friend, and that’s how everything tumbled out of control.”

“And his daughter?” Stop it! Y/N— no, Emily, stop it!

“No one knows, though she could be dead. My father immediately sent out searches for her, but nothing ever came up.” His voice softens almost to the point of inaudible as he talks about her. “Father hasn’t played a duet since, and neither have I.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say.

“Don’t be. You didn’t even know about it, so what could you have done?” he laughs dryly. 

The irony makes your toes curl.

“Just don’t make me watch another person go down the same path, okay?” he pleas gently.

Again, you should have done something else. You should just say, “Okay, I’ll reach out if I need it” and leave it at that. Instead, you turn to him and ask, “Can you play me ‘Méditation’?”

You watch his eyes widen at the ‘coincidence’ of your request, especially after that story. 

“‘Méditation?’” he asks.

“Yes. Massenet’s.”

He visibly takes a step back and you know why. After all, you’ve made this exact request a million times whenever you were left to sleepover at your father’s best friend’s house.

You wake up on the couch of his studio. Seungmin lays sprawled out on the floor next to you, violin on his chest and bow dangling from his thumb. You use the blanket he put over you to lift the ten million dollar instrument onto a table before he can roll over and crush it. You cradle the Strad, lifting it over its owner to the table on the other side.

“You know who composed ‘Méditation’ but you can’t touch a violin?”

The voice startles you, and you jerk backwards, stumbling back onto the couch. Once you’ve regained your balance, you glare at the man who’s still laying on the ground, moving only his eyes to look at you.

You sigh and pull the blanket over your head. “Don’t pry my secrets or I’ll have to keep avoiding you,” you warn.

“Oh!” he hums.

You pull the blanket back down and see him sitting up now with an arm propped on his knee. “What?”

“You finally admitted to hiding things,” he tells you.

“Everyone hides things.”

“But not everyone sucks at denying it.”

“Hey!”

He points at your jacket. “Your pill bottles are literally rattling with every move you make, Miss I’m-totally-fine.”

You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself. “They’re— they’re—”

“Pill bottles,” he insists. He folds his hands on the couch and rests his head on them. “Your inept lying is adorable.”

You groan and toss the blanket over his head. He tries to pull it off, but you clamp your hand over his to stop him.

“I don’t want to tell you this, but you did house me for a night, so you deserve to know at least this much, I guess.” Your serious tone stops his resistance attempts. “I’m scheduled for surgery in a little over a week. I’ll be in a hotel for two weeks after the procedure with a nurse since I don’t have someone to care for me during the bed rest period. It’s a relatively safe procedure, so don’t worry.”

Seungmin flips your hand over and grabs it. The blanket slips off his head and you are left looking at his glassy eyes.

“I…” He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. “I won’t ask you where you’re staying if you don’t want to tell. Just promise you’ll text after the surgery. Let me know that you’re still alive at least.”

You nod. “You’ll see me working on our Powerpoint for the project at least.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.

“I won’t be able to dance for a month and a half after this. My general education classes are all I’m going to be doing,” you assure him.

“If it gets too hard—”

“I know. Thank you, Kim.” 

You roll your suitcase off the bus. You aren’t sure if it is extra windy today or if it’s just your nerves, but you shiver as you stare at the hospital before you. You take a deep breath and take a step forward only to find your feet glued to the sidewalk. 

Just then, you hear a ping through your earphones. You pull out your phone and see a message.

Kim Seungmin- Lit [7:41 AM]: [get_well_soon.mp3]

You click into it and a piano and violin playing a familiar intermezzo fills your ears. You then look down at your feet and successfully lift one up and place it in front of the other until you are in front of the reception.

“Hello. I have an appointment under Emily Regan, and I'd also like to update my emergency contact information.”

After two weeks, you’re at last pushing open the door to your own dorm room.

You aren’t sure if it’s the morphine or the darkness of the room, but stepping inside after two weeks and seeing your curtains sway lightly in the evening air makes you feel emptier than you’ve ever felt before. Suddenly, your emotions overwhelm you all at once and you succumb to the floor. Your throat tightens and you wrap your arms around your abdomen, tucking your knees to your chest. You think you are crying, but you can’t be sure. The walls are closing in. You feel yourself being shackled by chains and no matter how hard you scream, no one hears you. Your voice bounces in your head like a ricocheting bullet and water is seeping in from somewhere, filling your nose and mouth, depriving you of air. All the while, your heartbeat echoes in your head.

Ba dum.

Ba dum.

Ba 

… dum.

With a strangled gasp, you manage to break one hand free for a split moment, and you immediately look for the remote that has called a nurse for the past two weeks. Of course, you are no longer at the hospital, so the only thing you grab is your phone.

“Seungminnie… Seungminnie, Seungminnie.”

You fumble with the device, but the chains are tightening around you again. Fog clouds in and you can’t see your phone anymore. You don’t even hear it hit the floor as it slips from your hand.

Ba dum. Ba dum. Ba dum.

Suddenly, you’re six again. Before you is the empty hallway of Violinist Kim’s mansion. Your plastic princess heels thunder with every step as you run down the hall.

Ba dum. “Seungminie?”

There’s no one there. Every turn you make just leads to another empty hall. The ground begins to morph, twisting and turning under your tiny feet. 

Ba dum. Ba dum.

The giant bow on your dress unravels and cinches around your ankle, and you trip and scrape your chin.

“Seungmin!”

“Emily!”

The ribbons shrivel. The chains clatter to the ground. The water drains. You gasp haggredly for air as your hands fly up to his shoulders for support. Beside you, your phone sits on the floor, his name illuminating from the screen.

“Emily, what’s wrong?” he asks, lowering his own device from his ear.

Your hands climb up to his face, cupping it. Your eyes are still glazed over. Blood drips from your lips from having been gnawed on too much.

“You’re… you’re not Seungmin.” You put your hands all over his face, feeling its features. “Or are you? No…”

“Emily—”

“Who’s Emily? You’re not Seungmin.”

“Stop biting yourself.”

“Seungmin’s not blond. Seungmin’s not—”

“Emily!”

“WHO’S EMILY?”

He freezes and looks at you. You’re drooped over at this point, defeated and tired. He then puts one hand behind you and pulls you into his arms.

“I am Seungmin,” he says gently. The vibration of his chest as he speaks lulls you. “I am Seungmin,” he repeats. “I’m right here. You’ve found me. I’m right here.”

Shakily, one of your hands reaches up and grabs his shirt while the other circles around to your lower belly.

“... Seungminnie…”

You’re in the furthest corner of the bed, staring at him. He’s just standing there, staring at you, juice in one hand and your keys in the other.

“So,” he begins. “What do you remember?”

“Nothing,” you answer truthfully. Your eyes shift to your desk where some medicine including a bottle of Kadian and a pack of birth control sit carelessly. “But I don’t suppose I had to say much for you to figure things out.” He’s going to leave you all alone now. Why is he even still here? He should realize how unsuitable you are for someone like him. There’s undeniable evidence in front of him now.

He clutches at his chest and scrunches up his face as a glaze passes over his eyes. He takes a moment before taking out one of the pills. He hands it to you with the juice, obviously having read the administration instructions.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “That and the frequent urinations. How much did they take out?”

You look away and your hand subconsciously reaches down. So he is still holding onto hope for some miracle. That’s why he hasn’t left yet. “Enough.” Now go, Seungmin.

He sits beside you, fiddling with the blankets between his fingers.

You break the silence first. “Don’t feel inclined to stay.”

“Huh?” he questions, looking up.

“I’m” —you motion downstairs— “you know. You’re here because you like me, right? Well, I can’t exactly produce an ideal family anymore. You should probably look for someone who can help you continue your and your father’s legacy.”

He looks more confused than you’ve ever seen him. “What?”

“I’m saying you should walk away now. I won’t hold it against you, so you don’t have to live with any guilt. I never considered our relationship possible anyway.”

Confusion shifts to anger. “You— You think I— I—” He struggles with his words after having been presented a scenario he’s never even considered. He exhales long and hard. “No. Just” —he grabs at an imaginary stress ball— “no. I’m not leaving, and you can’t make me. I don’t like you just because of your fertility. How could you think that? I don’t want a child. I want you. Do you understand? You! I couldn’t even sleep or drink for the past two weeks you were hospitalized, and the only time I could eat was whenever you sent a text or when I saw your little cursor on the Powerpoint. You think a surgery like that can weigh out whatever I felt that drove me to do this?”

“Still, I’m—” 

“Worthy, beautiful, and loveable,” he insists.

Those words are foreign to you. They’ve been long before you went to the hospital. How can he believe such things about you? Would he say the same things about Y/N? 

Seungmin sighs when you don’t respond and drags you closer. You don’t resist which he takes as a good sign. “So you don’t have to hide things from me anymore, okay? I’ll be here for you.”

You try to bite your lip only to find ointment there, so you play with a loose thread on your blanket instead.

“I… I’m already hiding a lot of things from you that I’m afraid to confess,” you admit. “Will that still be okay?”

You feel him nod. “Take your time. I’ll wait until you’re comfortable.”

You close your eyes and bask in his warmth. Will he really be okay if he knew he has in his arms the daughter of a drug addict murderer? Will he really be okay knowing you’re his “best friend” who left him without a trace for all these years?

You hope so. 

You want to believe so.

“It’s out! It’s out! It’s out!” you exclaim. 

“It’s just one grade. Relax,” Seungmin chuckles. Still, he stops playing the piano and swings his legs over to look at your phone.

“Not all of us have an established violin career to fall back on,” you remind him while logging into your account. You cover your eyes and hold the phone away from you as the page loads. “I can’t look.”

Seungmin takes the device. “I think you should.”

“Why? Is it good or bad?”

“We got a hundred.”

“We did?” You uncover your eyes. “We did! We did!” 

In your excitement, you give him a quick hug. He puts your phone on the table and drags you onto the piano bench. “You’re not doing anything right now, right?” He puts a simple piece in front of you. “Try this.”

“Kim, I don’t play.”

“It’s simple. Look.” He squeezes in behind you and puts your hand on the keyboard. “That’s middle C.”

He presses on the key and you scoff. You lift your left hand up as well and humor him. You’re definitely a bit choppy, but you make your way through the piece slowly and surely. Seungmin wraps his arms around your belly and rests his head on your shoulder with his eyes closed, swaying slightly to the music. When you get to the end, you lift up your hands and rest them on your lap.

“You’re just cuddling, aren’t you?”

He opens his eyes and looks at you. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Your eyes shift to the music. “No, I like it.”

You feel his heartbeat accelerating at your words. “So uh, you’ve played piano before, haven’t you?”

“Uhm. I played a few different things.”

“Violin?”

“That was my focus.”

He’s not surprised. “Were you good?”

“I was better than you,” you tease.

“Oh, really?” He jumps up and puts his violin under his chin in a challenging stance. 

You put your hands defensively out with a laugh. “That was like years ago!”

He wiggles his eyebrow and starts performing up-bow ricochet and left hand pizzicato.

You roll your eyes humorously. “We get it, Mr. World-class-musician.”

He laughs too and sits back down beside you. “Speaking of which, I’m playing with the JYP Philharmonic next weekend. You’ll come, right?”

You nod. “If I can manage to walk there.”

“I need to get there early, but I’ll have my driver take you.” He smiles widely. “You have to come, you have to. I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

He holds a finger to his lip cheekily. “Now it’s my turn to have a little secret.”

You fix the ribbon around your neck and smooth out your skirt as your driver comes around to open your door. You thank him and make your way into the building where Seungmin asked you to meet him. You hear him before you see him.

“Oh, she’s wonderful. She really is.”

There’s another lower voice that mumbles a reply you can’t make out. 

“Kim?” you call, approaching his waiting room.

Seungmin’s grin widens as he turns around and sees you. You, on the other hand, drop the chocolate and banana you brought for him when you see the other man in the room.

Seungmin gestures to you and looks at his companion. “Dad, this is Emily Regan, the girl I’ve been talking to you about. Emily, my father.”

Violinist Kim looks as shocked as you. “Emily… Regan?” His eyes narrow.

Seungmin furrows his brows. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

He doesn’t say anything and extends a hand out to you. “Nice to meet you, Emily Regan.”

You shake his hand uncertainly, unable to look at his unblinking eyes.

“Emily? Dad?” Seungmin looks between the two of you.

The older gentleman turns to his son. “See me for a moment.”

After Seungmin sits you on a couch, the two step out into the garden as per his request. You watch as Violinist Kim says something that makes Seungmin run a hand through his hair then stab them into his pockets as he slouches backwards. He replies with something that his father quickly rebuttals. What can they possibly be discussing? It’s clear Violinist Kim does not approve of you. Does he realize who you are? Or is Emily Regan the one he disapproves of? As a parent, it’s not uncommon to want grandchildren after all.

Suddenly, someone else bursts into the room. “Mr. Kim Seungmin, the conductor is looking for you!”

The stage worker is surprised to see only you in the room, and you inform him where the performers are. He thanks you and lets himself outside to deliver the message.

You stand as Seungmin and his father walk back in. Your friend pauses in his steps to talk to you.

“I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes. “This isn’t how I thought my dad would react to this. I’ll talk to you after.” He then spots your hand which has again found its way to your abdomen and frowns. “I swear that’s not something we talked about nor is it even something worth getting upset over, okay?”

You give him an assuring smile. “Break a leg.”

You watch as he hurries to catch up to the stage worker who is giving a briefing as they walk. You don’t bother to ask what is wrong. You can already tell from the cold eyes of Violinist Kim what is wrong. All you can do is wonder how much he told his son.

The concert goes well. You can tell that whatever happened with his father took a toll on Seungmin’s mentality, but his concerto was still dynamic and captivating. A few rows in front of you,  you spot Violinist Kim still nodding along to the music and supporting his son. 

After forty minutes, the house lights come back on and it is time for intermission. Seungmin is done with his concerto, so you go back backstage to see if you can catch him. You don’t have to go that far though. On your way, you hear a tree go, “Psst, Emily!”

You look and see him waving you over. He’s still calling you Emily, so that’s good, you note.

“Why are we out here?” you inquire.

He takes you a little further into the woods until he finds a boulder for you to sit on. He hoists you up so you’re comfortable.

“I thought I should clear things up before my dad talks to you,” he explains. “I’ve seen enough K-dramas to know what kind of headache misunderstandings cause.”

You nod, prompting him to go on. He does.

“You remember when I told you about Violinist L/N?” 

This sends your heart racing. Has he found out?  

“Well his daughter used to be my best friend. The thing is, my dad thinks you look a lot like her, and he thinks I’m only with you because of it.” 

Oh, it’s just that. Thank goodness. 

He grabs your hands, his eyes serious. “I just want you to know that no matter what he tells you, that’s not it. I like you for you, Emily, and nothing more and nothing less.”

You’re still convincing yourself that he isn’t aware of your past identity, and you must be making a face that he registers as doubt for he slides a hand up to your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Please believe me.”

You snap out of it. Of course you believe him, and it wouldn’t change much if he were in love with Y/N L/N anyway. However, you don’t miss the opportunity to ask, “What would you do if she is not dead? What would you do if she came back?”

“I’d celebrate her return. I’d grab lunch with her and introduce the two of you, but that’ll be the extent of it.”

“What if she’s been doing well all these years, and you were the only one left hurting and alone, wondering where she is? Could you forgive her? Could you accept someone like that, not to mention a child of a murderer, with open arms?”

Seungmin retreats his hand and frowns at you. “Why are you saying things like that? She’s my best friend!”

You grab his hand before it can go far. This time it’s your turn to stare him in the eye. “I’m not accusing her. I’m just asking if you, Kim Seungmin, would be able to forgive her in this scenario, and I’m not going to say that you’re right or wrong if you do or don’t either.”

“Then why do you ask?” His frown shifts to a perplexed one.

You let your hand drop to your side. “I… I’m in a similar situation. I don’t know if my friend will accept me if I try to reconnect.”

“Do it.” He has on a smirk now as he walks closer. “If it’s you, I’m sure she’d love to reconnect.”

You pout at his unsatisfactory response. “You’re just biased.”

Your pursed lips only makes him stare at them. “I sure am,” he mumbles. 

He again brings his hand up to your neck, index finger resting behind your ears. You can’t tell if he’s avoiding your question or just distracted, but who cares? You’re distracted now too. The woods are setting the perfect mood, and the orchestra is playing something romantic inside. Your eyelids begin to close. He looks at you one more time, his own eyes drooping.

“Is this okay…” he whispers raspily. “... Emily?”

Your eyes fly open and you shove him away a little harder than you intended to. This isn’t you. The person he wants to kiss isn’t you, and you can’t steal that away from him, even if you desperately want it yourself. You can’t have this. You can’t have him. It isn’t yours and it isn’t right.

He falls down and looks up at you, bewildered.

“I’m— I’m sorry!” you blammer. “I, uh, I have to go.”

You jump off the boulder and walk faster than you know you should post-op.

“Emily.” You hear his feet crunching leaves right behind you. “Emily. Stop. Emily. Emily. Emily.”

Why does he keep saying that name? 

You don’t turn back and you don’t slow down.

You hear him curse and speed up, which scares you, but before you can react, he sweeps you off of your feet and carries you in his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“Something you won’t on your own,” he replies vaguely. He storms to his green room and kicks the door open. He sets you down in the middle of it and pulls out his violin. “Play,” he commands you.

You shrink back at the sight of the instrument. It’s a glorious instrument carved from a choice tree and shaped over a careful flame by masterful hands, capable of drawing out the soul of its player. You know touching it will draw out what you’ve been working so hard on suppressing. You aren’t Y/N, daughter of Violinist L/N. You have no business with a violin. “I can’t. You know this, Kim.”

“You can’t play or you can’t admit the truth? Play, Emily.”

Wait, what?

He holds the Stradivarius in front of you. His tone is firm and his eyes are fierce, but he doesn’t hold the violin any closer than thirty centimeters away. He needs you to make this last leap.

“What do you know?” you demand.

“Play.”

“Tell me, what did your father really tell you?” you screech.

“Play.”

You begin shaking. The f holes are taunting you. You hear the screams of your father’s victims. You hear the TV reporters all cursing his name. They’re all inside there. They’re all inside, waiting for you to release them with your playing and eat you alive. “Kim, please.”

“Play.”

“No, I— I—”

“Play.”

He already knows. You’re sure he already knows, yet somehow, this still feels like a chasm far too wide for you to cross. Can you accept this violin? Can your past? Y/N is the child of a drug-addicted murderer. She’s a six year old whose own father bathed her in blood and blacklisted her existence. Can you accept Y/N L/N?

You look up at the deep brown eyes before you. You know he can.

“Seungmin…” you choke.

He lowers his voice and softens his gaze. “Play,” he tells you.

And so you do. You timorously reach for the instrument and perform Albinoni’s Adagio, the very last piece he’s heard you play. 

Tears roll down your face as your fingers fly across the board like you’ve played the piece all your life. You’re scared, you’re scared, you’re so, so scared. You didn’t even realize how hard you’ve been working to repress this part of you, and now that you’re facing it head-on, you don’t know what to make of it, but for once, it’s okay. Even if you fall. Even if you break apart, you finally have someone who will pick up the pieces. 

You play, and play, and play until you don’t know what to play any more, yet still you played. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you play until you can no longer lift up the scroll. You let the violin slip to your side and the bow clatter to the ground. A pair of arms wrap around you to stop you from collapsing. You close your eyes as one final tear makes its way down your face.

Seungmin presses your head into his shoulder. “I forgive you, Y/N, because I love you.”

<four years later>

You look onto the expecting crowd. Your heart’s beating quickly and the violin in your hands feels heavier than usual. Seungmin steps up next to you with his instrument. He adjusts your white skirt, his new golden band glistening under the lights as he does so.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

You smile at the familiar question. “Ready,” you reply.

He smiles back and lifts his Stradivarius under his chin. You do the same and he begins to play three one-eighth C’s followed half one. You feel his music envelop you. You close your eyes, place the tip of your bow on your E-string and let “Wedding March” flow from your soul.

A sense of peace overcomes you. After learning about your father, starting your life over, and losing your fertility, peace seems almost foreign to you, yet you’ve done it. Amidst all the chaos, you’ve finally found your harmony. 

~ ad.gold

Read it from Seungmin’s perspective here.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

WPP - Kenny (We’re The Millers)

This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I was struggling to finish it, but, a bright light ascended from the heavens, in the form of an angel, and that angel’s name is @gladerscake

Big thanks to them for helping me out and finishing this imagine. Go follow them and give all the love and support you can muster!

~~~~~~~~~~

Being in the witness protection program was...interesting.

It definitely was not what you were expecting, but then again, you didn’t know helping out a person you cared about would get you involved in a murder, yet here you are.

You had to leave everything behind, not that you had that much of a life to begin with, but it was comfortable. Now, everything was different. New home in a new state, even a new last name. Thankfully, you got to keep your first name, you were grateful for that at least.

You were surprised to find the most annoying thing was the neighbourhood that the program placed you in. It’s like it was made for Mormons or something, your neighbours were too nice, at least the house to the right of yours. You didn’t really know who lived in the house to the left, working from home had the benefit of never going outside and the only reason you knew who lived to your right was cause those neighbours were the type of people to introduce themselves.

Yuck.

But still, you couldn’t help but be a little curious.

You did know, however, that they had only recently moved in since the one morning truck woke up before your alarm rang that morning. You were grouchy the rest of the day, thus you’ve been slightly petty towards your “new” neighbours since then. You definitely needed to work on your attitude...one day.

After being inside your house for more than a week, you decided you wanted some vitamin D, which you rarely ever did so you must’ve been seriously deprived.

You walked out of the door leading to the backyard with a book in hand, frowning when you saw how overgrown the grass was from your laziness. You told yourself you’d do it later, and by later you meant you would mow your yard when you started to hate yourself enough to the point where you felt too guilty leaving it alone.

You huffed as you sat in one of your lawn chairs that you bought when you moved in, lying to yourself that you were going to spend more time outside when you knew you wouldn’t. A first for everything, you supposed.

A few chapters in, you heard a door open and shut in your neighbour’s backyard, but you thought nothing of it, almost too entranced in your book.

You smiled to yourself when you started to hear 1990s R&B playing softly, not your cup of tea but you enjoyed it occasionally. Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls had just started playing when you heard the neighbour’s back door slammed. “Dude, turn that shit off! You’ve been playing that song constantly and I’m actually getting sick of it. God.” You heard an angsty female voice.

Oh no...you lived next a family.

“Hey!”

You flinched, noticing a blonde girl was talking you. “Uh, hey?” You slowly closed your book, reluctantly walking over to the fence separating the backyards when the girl motioned you over.

“Haven’t seen you around before, just move in?” She asked, smirking slightly, looking you up and down.

You mocked her smirk, not liking the almost condescending look she was giving you. “No, been here for awhile. That’s how I know you’ve only just moved in a few weeks ago.”

The girl’s smirk only grew. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Casey, and that loser is Kenny.” She pointed to the table behind her, seeing a blonde boy sitting somewhat dejectedly in one of the chairs fiddling with a small CD player. “Hey, TLC, get over here!” The boy looked to Casey with a panicked expression, visibly looking like he wasn’t sure if the girl meant it or not. She rolled her eyes, “Come on, dude!”

The boy nodded, frantically walking away to join Casey at the fence. “Hey.” He stuttered, blushing when he noticed your eyes on him.

Casey rolled her eyes yet again. “Yeah, this is Kenny.”

Kenny waved quite adorably, giving you a tight lipped smile. “Did you just move in?”

“No, I-”

“We’ve already had this talk, she’s been here longer than we have.” Casey interrupted, making your blood boil a little bit, her attitude almost worse than yours.

Kenny frowned slightly, but covered it up with a smile. “Oh.”

“Yep. We’ve already become besties.” You said sarcastically, grinning widely, making Kenny genuinely smile a little.

“Kids!” A middle aged man with a stupid haircut, to you anyway, walked over with hesitant look on his face. “Who’s this?”

“Y/N, your neighbour that’s lived here longer than you have. Saved you the trouble of telling him yourself, Casey.” You sneered.

“Oh. Well, I’m David and we’re the Millers! My wife, Sarah, is at the market right now, but I’m sure she’d be glad to meet you sometime.” He smiled widely, making you uncomfortable.

“Uh, dad, chill out. You’re gonna scare away the only girl I find suitable to be friends with in this shit neighbourhood.” Casey whispered harshly.

You didn’t really want to be friends with Casey, you never really got along with girls. Clearly, reading outside was a bad choice...

“Ha ha, if you sass me one more time today, you will be grounded young lady.” David forced another smile.

“Uh, Dad...”

“Shut up, Kenny.”

You quickly realized where the Kenny kid was in the family food chain. It was a shame, the dude was pretty easy on the eyes and seemed nice from what you’ve seen. “Look, I’m just gonna go. Nice meeting you fine folks...” You waved awkwardly, turning around and practically speed walking inside your house.

Well, that was fun...never going outside ever again.

The overall encounter put you in a sour mood, so when the doorbell rang you prayed to god that it wasn’t the yearly check in with law enforcement cause you’d probably get yourself in trouble with that attitude of yours.

You were mildly shocked to see that awkward Kenny guy outside your door, his eyes trained on his feet before you opened the door. “Kenny Miller, right?”

“Uh...yeah, Miller. Uh, I just want to apologize for my, uh, family’s behavior. They don’t have the best of manners, but they’re good people, I swear!” He ranted at such a quick pace that it almost flew right over your head. “So, yeah, sorry.”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “You don’t have to be sorry, especially on the behalf of your family. They don’t seem like the type to appreciate it anyway.”

His eyes widened, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “No, no, no, it’s not like that! They, uh, appreciate me.” You kept your mouth shut, giving him a sympathetic look with a soft smile. He sighed. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“To me, it is. I’ve been in that situation before, so it’s not that hard to notice.”

“Oh...well, they can be nice sometimes I guess.”

“I hope so. Well, it was nice to meet you, Kenny.” You stuck your hand out, smiling when he hesitated but shook your outstretched hand gently.

A week later, you and Kenny actually became friends despite the two of you being almost complete opposites. He was able to poke through your cynical exterior, which was extremely rare for someone to do. He made you laugh, smile, and actually enjoy life when you were with him. You didn’t like it at first, but his adorkable personality won you over.

Kenny was more than overjoyed, he finally had a friend, not one out of pity anyway. The first time you two had hung out, he came “home” with a huge grin on his face. Of course, Casey had to tease him about it all the time.

“I still don’t understand how she can be friends with that loser and not me!” Casey ranted. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“Casey, stop calling Kenny a loser, please.” Sarah sighed, tapping away on her keyboard.

As soon as Sarah said that, Kenny walked through the door with another grin on his face. “Hey, Ma!”

“You don’t have to call me that here, hon.” Sarah voiced, shutting her laptop and walking out of the kitchen, but she smiled to herself.

“Pop your cherry yet?” Casey smirked evilly.

Kenny immediately blushed. “I told you, we’re just friends...”

She rolled her eyes. “You obviously want to be more than just friends with her. You should just ask her out and get it over with.”

“But...Melissa...”

Casey huffed loudly. “Dude, I already told you, she’s probably moved on by now. She was a total babe, she can and probably has done way better than you.”

“Hey...” Kenny frowned, to which Casey just shrugged, her eyes training back to her phone. He sighed as he sat down across from his “sister.” “I do like her...but I don’t know how to bring it up. I’m awful at talking to girls about...that kind of stuff.”

Casey snorted. “Yeah, no kidding.” But she dropped her amused smirk when she saw Kenny glaring. “Sorry, sorry.” She sassed. “I mean, it did work out with the ginger to be fair, but we have to stay in this shithole until further notice. But I really do think you should shoot your shot with what’s her name.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just-”

“That girl is bad news.” David suddenly voiced, walking into the kitchen.

“What do you mean by that?” Casey asked.

“Uh, hello? Pay attention to your surroundings instead of that stupid phone of yours to see that we are in witness protection. We can’t trust any of these creepy neighbours.”

“Uh, I think you’re a tad bit paranoid, father dearest.”

“Y/N’s really cool though!” Kenny expressed.

David rolled his eyes. “But we don’t really know her, we don’t know if she’s a snitch or something.”

Casey laughed. “Wow, you really are paranoid, dude.”

“Ha ha, very funny, just go to your room and listen to your Metallicas and AC/DCs.”

Casey’s face contorted into a disgusted scowl. “I don’t listen to that garbage.”

“Shut up.” David simply replied, making Casey stand up and storm out of the room and up the stairs. “Look, Ken, I get you like this girl, but you need to be careful. Don’t say things you shouldn’t and all that. You have a tendency to not know when to shut your mouth. So, don’t do that, kay?”

Kenny nodded curtly, avoiding David’s eyes as he felt his face heat up in slight anger. He knew he had some...issues with keeping his mouth shut about things that should be kept a secret, but he grew up, right? He’s not as naïve as he was before they went to Mexico, but his “family” still treated him like he was five. Plus, he knew you weren’t the type to be a snitch.

While Kenny was dealing with feeling underappreciated, you were having your own set of issues to handle. Today was the day for a check up with law enforcement to make sure you were on your best behavior. You always were, but it still made you anxious to no end. And you prayed that Kenny wouldn’t rush in to your house like he got into the habit of doing when you were interrogated.

Of course, that didn’t happen. 

“For fuck’s sake...” You muttered under your breath when you saw Kenny’s shocked and scared face when he saw you sitting with a couple local police officers.

On your end, it just looked like he was scared of police officers. But Kenny’s mind immediately went haywire, thinking that you called them over to investigate them even though the police were already informed of “the Millers” situation. 

“Kenny, now’s not a good time.” You sighed.

“No, no, it’s okay.” The police officer in front of you said. “We’re done here anyway.” He walked out of your house with his partner, leaving you and Kenny in an awkward silence.

“What was that all about?” Kenny asked, not being able to control the bitter tone in his voice. “Did you think we’re that bad or something?”

“Kenny, I-”

“We’ve been doing really well here!” Kenny interrupted. “No problems with anybody, been on our best behavior.”

“Kenny.”

“I don’t wanna go to jail. I can’t go to jail. We’ve only been here for a couple months.”

“Kenny, stop!” You finally yelled, losing your temper. “They were here to check up on me, for fuck’s sake.”

Kenny’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but still had a slight expression of panic. “Here for you? B-But-”

“I’m in witness protection, you dweeb, same as you.”

“Oh...Wait, how did you know I’m in witness protection?”

“Your family,” You finger quoted, “looks nothing like you. All of you don’t look anything alike. How paranoid and secretive that David is, it wasn’t too hard to put things together. You rambling off like an absolute moron a minute ago just reaffirmed my theory.”

Kenny frowned. “Dang, I thought I had worked on that.”

You smiled slightly. “It’s alright, Ken. I’m no snitch, and I’m not very judgmental about someone’s past. What did you even do though? You’re definitely not the type to break the law.” You chuckled.

“Oh, well, we kinda smuggled some drugs across the Mexican border.” He stuttered.

“Holy shit, dude! That’s sick! What was it? Was it coke?” You grinned, eager to learn.

Kenny blinked at your excitement, but obliged to all your questions, sitting down next to you. “No, it was marijuana.”

Your face slightly dropped in excitement. “Oh. I really think weed should be legal. It’s stupid, it’s not even a hard drug.”

“Well, we’re lucky we even made it out alive. But what did you go through to get yourself here?”

Now, you definitely didn’t judge past crimes of others, if they’ve atoned for it and changed that is, but you had no idea if Kenny would judge you. You actually found yourself not wanting him to look at you in a different light, and you’ve never felt that way before. 

Kenny seemed perfectly sweet, almost too sweet to judge anyone, but on the other hand...the stuff that had landed you in the program was definitely heavier than some weed smuggling. 

Maybe it would be too much for him. Maybe it would be best to just make something up, something less horrible, something he wouldn’t be too shocked by.  As tempting as that route felt, the idea of lying to him weirdly didn’t sit well with you, though. 

Kenny was quick to notice the lengthy pause that followed his question, as well as the way your shoulders tensed and your eyes averted to the parquet floor. Oh no. Had he pried into something too personal? Was he an idiot for asking?

“Oh, um...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” Kenny hurried to assure you, slight panic beginning to etch his bluish-green eyes, his fists clenching and unclenching involuntarily. “I was just curious, is all! I’m sorry if it’s too persona-“ 

“It’s okay!” To his surprise, you pulled on a tight-lipped smile, giving him a look as nonchalant as you could manage at the moment. “Really, you don’t have to apologize for asking. Plus, you already told me about your thing, so...” You trailed off, softly, wondering how to proceed. 

As much as you resented the thought of Kenny seeing you differently, you decided even that unpleasant outcome would still be better than lying to him. You’d rather not. You liked Kenny. Despite not having spent a tremendous amount of time together, you could tell he was a genuinely good person, and you definitely enjoyed his company. Not to mention, it would be a blatant lie if you said you weren’t at all attracted to him. 

Casey may have spent most of their interactions calling him a “loser” in some form or another, but you couldn’t be farther away from agreeing with her. A part of you was positively annoyed with the way she treated him. Then again, taste is subjective. It wasn’t Casey’s fault if she didn’t have a good sense of it. 

With a deep intake of air, you nervously flipped a loose strand of hair over your shoulder, still avoiding direct eye-contact with Kenny. “I, uh...It’s a rough one, really. And kind of a long story. I wouldn’t wanna dump something like that on you, if you’d rather not hear it” 

He tentatively pursed his plump lips, but nonetheless nodded for you to keep going. “I’m sure I can handle it! Whatever it is, I’m not gonna judge you, Y/N. I promise!” 

Promise, huh? Guess you were going to have to see about that. 

Trying to ignore the rapidly increasing pace of your heart and slight tremble in your fingers, you began your story. 

You didn’t want to go into too much detail, for the fear of oversharing, but you did tell him as much as you felt you could. About how you used to have a friend...a pretty close friend, who you cared about a great deal, who had always been kind and generous, alas, a bit of a troublemaker.

About how she had fallen in with the wrong crowd, something you admittedly failed to see coming. How that crowd turned out to be a notoriously vicious gang that had it out for some other poor girl, who had apparently slept with one of the gang leaders’ boyfriend without realizing it. 

How that gang, your friend included, lured her onto a rooftop to “fuck with her” and “teach her a lesson.” Only that night, they went too far and ended up pushing her off. The girl died instantly, and due to the heaping pile of evidence, it wasn’t a particularly long investigation. Almost everyone involved were arrested shortly after, and you, having been brought in as one of the witnesses, had a choice whether you wanted to testify against your friend or not. 

At first you weren’t sure if you wanted to do that and make matters worse for her. However, after some much-needed reflection and consideration, you decided it would be the right thing to do. Someone had died, and your friend played a part in it. You couldn’t turn a blind eye to something that big simply because you two were close. 

Your friend was put away, along with several other gang members. Still, quite a few of them were still out there, and they definitely seemed like the type to hold serious grudges. You were no longer safe at your former home, and now...well, there you where. 

Kenny listened intently all the while, not once daring to interrupt, not even to ask a question. By the way your breathing had hitched and your lips had stuttered at certain parts, he could tell how hard that must’ve been for you to go through in the first place, and how unsettling it was for you to revisit those moments in order to share your story with him. 

You didn’t notice, but as you were nearing the end, Kenny had inched to sit closer to you, his large hand carefully landing on your shoulder with a soft but warm-hearted squeeze. He had briefly hesitated in making that move, but the need to offer you comfort and reassurance overpowered his nervousness. His only hope was that you wouldn’t flinch at his touch, and so he felt a huge wave of relief wash over him when you did no such thing. 

“So...that’s about it. Sorry, I know it’s a fucking bummer story, compared to your weed smuggling adventure.” You attempted a chuckle, only it came out as more of a sad scoff. 

Your heart was still pounding and you were still reluctant to look up at him. Although, as you finally noticed Kenny’s warm hand gently squeezing your shoulder, you felt a soothing brush of comfort spread through your limbs, and you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. 

“Whoa...that’s...I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Kenny frowned, unsure of what the right thing to say could be. 

“It’s okay, really. I’ve had some time to process it and move on. Well...not completely, but I’d say I’m doing much better now.” 

Kenny went silent for a minute, clearly still digesting the information, and the worries you had about him looking at you differently came back in full force. You opened your mouth to ask him about it, but he beat you by a millisecond, speaking first. “Why...why were you so nervous about telling me?” 

So he had noticed. Figures. The art of the poker face wasn’t something you’d ever truly mastered. It sometimes annoyed you how easy your anxious state was to spot, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. 

“I don’t know, I...I guess I didn’t want you to see me as a snitch or judge me-“

“Judge you?” Kenny interrupted, sounding confused about the mere insinuation. “For what, not sticking up for your friend when she had got herself involved in a murder?” 

“I mean, she was still my friend, so...” 

“So what? That doesn’t change the fact that she got in the middle of something so horrible, that could’ve been avoided, if she had paid more attention to who she hung around.” 

You couldn’t say you had expected that. It was almost weird hearing Kenny talk that way, but you were definitely relieved to hear where he so firmly stood in regards to the whole “judging you” idea. 

You bit your bottom lip in agitation as a thought you had been wrestling with for a while creeped its way into your mind again. “Sometimes I feel like maybe I could’ve done something...could’ve checked up on her more or somehow stopped her from hanging out with them...maybe I could’ve kept her from having anything to do with it.” Your voice grew quieter, sounding barely above a whisper as guilt flashed through your eyes, your muscles tensing, uneasily, at the thought. Kenny was immediately closer, his arm wrapping around you, as if trying to shelter you from your own thoughts. 

“Come on, don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. You can’t control the actions of others, not even your friends. Least of all your friends, probably.” 

You allowed a small smile to touch the corner of your lips as you instinctively leaned into Kenny, his closeness calming you, his soft reassurances shushing the self-deprecating thoughts he could sense looming over you. 

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess. I just try not to think about it often, it really sucks diving into that stuff.” 

“Of course it sucks. I just hope you know that none of it was even a little bit your fault. From what I can tell after spending some time with you...you’re a really good person, Y/N.” 

You looked up at him, noting the way your faces were only a few inches apart by that point. The close proximity brought a rosy tinge to your cheeks. “You think so?” 

“I do! Why wouldn’t I? You’re smart, you’re funny when you want to be, you’re great to be around, and heck, you’re one of the very few people I know who doesn’t make me feel like I’m constantly doing something wrong.” 

Hearing that made you simultaneously happy and sad. With the way Kenny’s “family” treated him almost around the clock, it was no wonder he felt that way. You wished he didn’t have to. You believed someone as wonderful as him deserved so much better. If only he had at least one person close to him who would tell him how much better he was than most guys out there, how anyone should be lucky to call him a friend... or maybe more than just a friend. 

In that moment, you found yourself thinking what it would be like if you were that person. You imagined it would feel the same way it always did when you were around Kenny, only better. In all honesty, you couldn’t find a single reason not to try. What harm was there in trying? Oh, that’s right...something could go badly wrong, and then whatever friendship you had with him would be in shambles.

That’s what the pessimistic side of you thought about it. But the other side, the more hopeful and affectionate side, had other ideas. 

Even though you and Kenny were brought into the witness protection program by very different circumstances, you were still in it together. You didn’t have to hide your true identities or your past, at least not from each other. That had to count for something, right? 

While you were taking a second to collect your thoughts, Kenny was facing some inner turmoil of his own. With the newfound closeness of the two of you, his cheeks were positively crimson, his pulse quickening, heart thumping against his rib cage. Any doubts he’d had about whether or not he wanted to ask you out had vanished - he absolutely wanted to do that. But how? When? Would now be a good time? He wasn’t sure. Yet, he was very aware of the fact that if he were to lean in just a little bit closer, he could just kiss you right then and there... 

Kenny briefly remembered David’s “count to three” method, but for some reason it didn’t feel right to use. Not with you, not like that. All he wanted was to just go with the feeling, and that feeling was beckoning him to your lips. 

Oh, screw it. If you were to push him away, so be it. He would probably die a little inside and never attempt to do anything like that ever again, but at least he would know your immediate answer. 

“Kenny...?” 

Your soft questioning voice reached his ears as his gaze trailed over your delicate face, taking in every feature, and with a soft but resolute breath, he leaned in. 

Your eyes went wide when Kenny’s lips landed on yours. You froze for a second, not knowing what to do. Luckily, your instantly skipping heart gave you the hint you needed to flutter your eyes closed and melt into it. 

He kissed you so gently, so carefully, but not like he was afraid of scaring you away. More like he wanted you feel completely safe and give you every chance to stop it the second you wanted to. 

You didn’t. 

Instead, you wrapped an arm around his neck, your fingertips brushing the ends of his short sandy hair, your lips moving seamlessly and warmly against his own.

Kenny couldn’t believe you were actually kissing him back, but damn, he was thrilled that you were. He felt the affection in him surge as the softness of your lips put his mind in a haze. His hand timidly slid down to your waist, bringing you closer to him, and you willingly went, deepening the kiss as you did. 

After a few blissful moments you finally broke away from his lips, your noses nearly brushing each other as you looked up at him through glimmering eyes. “I was almost convinced I would have to do that myself...” 

Kenny breathed a soft chuckle, not taking his gaze off of yours. “To be honest, so was I...” 

You grinned at his burning cheeks, releasing a light chuckle of your own before reconnecting your lips for another kiss, swallowing the muted grunt that rumbled from Kenny’s throat. 

Things were going to get better now. For both of you, you were sure of it. Kenny was finally going to have someone who would show him what it’s like to be truly wanted and appreciated, and you were going to have someone who wouldn’t dream of hurting you and who you knew would always do his best to understand you, give you everything he could give. 

Maybe this whole witness protection program thing wouldn’t be such a tedious affair, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks again for helping me @gladerscake​ , you’re the sweetest ❤

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Faded

Averykedavra prompt: okay, first of all, can I be added to your taglist? I love your fics! secondly, if you're open to prompts (apologies if you're not) could you write some logan-centric hurt/comfort? with roman and maybe Virgil comforting him? no pressure, but thanks!! and again your fics are absolutely incredible

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re an icon ^_^

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Logan’s not feeling so great, so self-doubt, self-esteem issues, all that jazz

Pairings: depending on how you want to read it, logince, analogical, possible prinxiety, analogince, or just hella platonic. My aro ass doesn’t know anymore you choose

Word Count: 4237

When a Side's role is disregarded, their door fades from the hallway.

Logan...do the others really need Logan?

Or just Logic?

 “Neato! So you're making your little factoids optional this time around.”

 Thank Archimedes the little pixelated boxes didn’t allow for much dynamic character interaction.

 Logan swallows and tries to keep going, growing more concerned that the lump in his throat would make it impossible to speak. But he can do this. For Thomas, he can do this. He has to.

 “Oh, I’ve got this one, guys!”

 ‘IGNORANT’ flashes up in front of him in big, red letters. Almost immediately he can hear the scoldings of Thomas and Patton followed by Roman’s mumbled apology but it’s too late. The word sears itself into his brain and he can’t see anything other than the choice that they’ve made.

 He swallows again. Alright. He’ll speak directly to the audience. Thomas has to listen to them eventually, doesn’t he?

 …well, maybe, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting every time he pops up with something and it’s completely ignored. He tries to appeal to Patton’s sense of humor. He tries to give Roman something when he can’t find the right words. He tries to give Thomas something, anything.

 Then he gets overexcited and pushes Patton into the blinds.

 The second Roman’s sword flashes out and slices him neatly in two a searing bolt of pain spreads to his arms, to his chest, to his throat. He knows logically—he knows everything logically—he can’t be hurt by that. It isn’t him. He is not connected in any way physically to these lowdowns.

 So why are his hands shaking?

 This is so ridiculous. He is Logic. He should not be working like this, he should not be reacting like this. This is logically the next step, he must simply not be out of the adjustment process yet. Which is ridiculous in and of itself, has he not mentioned several times over that the presence of the others imbeds Thomas’s ability to think rationally and calmly about the issues they have to face? Has he not himself wondered that if he were not so…undone by being in the same room that he finds it difficult to keep going when he needs to? Shouldn’t this be better?

 “You know I'm- I'm not doing a really great job explaining this philosophy. Um, Logan?”

 Patton? Logan pops up.

 Patton smiles—smiles?—at him as the box appears at the bottom of the screen. From this angle, he can’t see Roman or Thomas. What’s happening? Why hasn’t he been paying better attention?

 Why can’t he focus?

 “What would a real philosopher think about what I'm saying here?”

 Oh. Oh, no. This isn’t going to be good, is it?

 “Well, Frederich Nietzsche really wouldn't have been thrilled with anything you've had to say, primarily because pity seems to be at the center of your idea of ‘putting good into the world.’”

 “Th-that's not what—“

 “Nietzsche famously rejected the notion that pity was a virtue.”

 “Okay,” comes the quiet mumble that, really, should’ve told him to stop talking now, he wasn’t being useful anymore.

 But no. Logan was never very good at being quiet, now was he?

 “He once claimed that pity ‘runs counter to the instincts that preserve and enhance the value of life…’”

 Last chance, Logan, something in his head whispers as something else flashes in the corner of his vision.

  ‘Skip all.’

 But they would never do that, right? They knew, somewhere, because Thomas knew, that you had to listen to Logic. You had to listen, at some point, because if you didn’t, what did you have? They would shake their heads or grumble in annoyance, or cut him off when he’d been talking for too long or ask him to be quiet, but they’d never skip him entirely, cut him out of the conversation, would they?

 Patton’s finger presses the button and something of unyielding cold wraps around Logan’s neck.

 He flails as it yanks, jerking back awake with his eyes open, out of the boxes, out of the video, at his desk, staring at the screen as his lowdown program blocks him out.

 No.

 No!

 What happened? Why did they—is he—can he—

 Why didn’t they want to listen?

 Logan’s fingers fly over the keyboard in front of him, searching desperately for an answer. Maybe he programmed this wrong. Admittedly he’s a little new at programming so he could’ve messed something up that disconnected him. Maybe Patton clicked it by mistake. Why was there even a ‘skip all’ button to begin with? He doesn’t remember programming that. And what was it that wrapped around his throat?

 His hand goes to his neck at the mere memory of the horrible thing that yanked him out. He winces when his fingers slide of patches of warm, inflamed skin. It…it actually hurt. It left a mark.

 What—

 The instant his lowdown pops up with his face, he knows.

 It shouldn’t hurt. Really. This shouldn’t hurt.

 Now perhaps Deceit could see what it was like to be Logic. Or at least to try and be Logic.

 Now perhaps…perhaps he may have someone to talk to.

 No.

 Deceit was, in fact, far better at being Logic. Within an instant, he’d gotten the conversation to his side, gotten the others to listen, to think about what they were saying instead of just following on blind faith.

 Of course.

 Because it wasn’t Logic they didn’t want to listen to, was it?

 It was Logan.

 Logan closes his eyes. Alright. He can adapt to this. He can…he can work with this. He just has to figure out how.

 He turns away from the computer, stands, and carefully makes his way across his room to the nightstand, where the emergency first-aid kit sits tucked in the drawer. He will patch himself up, best he can, and then figure out what to do.

 He’s too distracted to hear Roman’s terrified shout.

  “What have you done with Logan?”

———————————————————

A few hours after filming stops, there’s a very soft knock on Logan’s door. He doesn’t move from his desk, nor does he pause in his typing. False sympathies and empty comforts have never been very appealing.

 …and he is just the slightest bit worried that he won’t be able to resist the urge to slam the door in Patton’s face.

 Footsteps moving away sound from outside. Good. It’s better this way, isn’t it?

 The lowdowns didn’t work. Well, they did…but they worked a little too well, didn’t they? Instead of being less invasive, they just…cut Logan’s contributions out entirely. They let Logan be taken. They were good for Logic, not Logan.

 Logan’s head turns to the wall where he has two lists tacked up. Standing, the desk chair scraping behind him, he picks up the marker.

 His job is to be Logic. Therefore, if he is failing at that job, he must find a way to be better.

 The list on the left has ‘LOGIC’ written in large, block letters. On the right, ‘LOGAN.’ Isolating the key characteristics of each concept will help to shift himself properly into the role he must play. Logan’s eyes scan down the ‘LOGIC’ list.

 LOGIC:

Emotionless

Useful

Rational

Necessary

Welcome

 The end of the word ‘welcome’ is smeared. Logan looks down at the marker. His hands had shaken so much as he added that last word…why? It was true; logic should be welcome in any conversation, that’s why is it so useful, that’s why it has so many of the other characteristics that it has. Logic should be wanted, regardless of the subject matter, because of what it could do. It had felt so small of Logan to add the word, even when it was the correct course of action. Was it not implied by the others that it should be wanted?

 That…that he should be wanted?

 Unconsciously, Logan twists the cap of the marker back and forth as his eyes dart over to the ‘LOGAN’ list.

 LOGAN:

Irritating

Invasive

Emotional

Easily dismissed

Unwanted

 If he had any doubts about whether or not these qualifications were inaccurate, each had cemented their place on this list after today.

 Logan’s hand flies to his neck again, grazing over the bandages he’d wrapped around himself, only to stutter to a halt when his fingers met the fabric of his tie.

 His tie.

 Hadn’t—he’d—he’d been so sure he’d been doing this right. He dressed well, he spoke carefully, he did his research, why—why was it so easy for them to say he was—to think of him as—

 …why didn’t they want to listen to him?

 He tried. He tried so hard to be what they wanted, what they would listen to, to appeal to each and every one of them to make sure he was still fitting in enough to be heard. Logic had to be heard, that’s one of its most important qualifications.

 As his fingers fumble and catch around the knot, it pulls taut and for a moment he’s thrown back into the feeling of Deceit’s crook around his neck.

 Oh.

 Oh, that’s right…he…Deceit—or, well, Janus, now—didn’t he...he was…Logic isn’t the problem.

 Janus’s Logic made them listen. Janus’s logic made them pay attention. Janus’s Logic was wanted.

 Logan’s fingers slide off his tie in a numb haze.

 His hand falls limply to his side.

 He stares at the lists.

  Irritating.

  Invasive.

  Emotional.

  Easily dismissed.

 There is a reason none of these qualifications have come up when he considers pure Logic.

 A wave of cold rushes over Logan. His knees wobble. His hand staggers out for something, anything to grab onto, to hold, to stop himself from collapsing under the weight of what he just realized, to stop it, to stop it, to stop—

 He hits the ground with a thud.

 The words beat into his head over and over as he lies there, frozen, cold, so cold, curled up by his bed with something wrapped tightly around his throat and his glasses staying stubbornly on his face so the words remain in perfect focus.

 It is not Logic that is the problem.

 The others can use Logic.

 The others can listen to Logic.

 The others can want Logic.

 They just don’t want Logan.

 Logan curls closer around himself as it starts to become very, very cold. That…this can’t be right, he must be missing something. He’s emotionally compromised right now, he’s not any good at being Logic, maybe—maybe that means he’s doing it wrong, he has to be doing this wrong, there’s no way they could—they need him, don’t they? They need Logan, they have to listen to him, they—they—

 Unbidden, a whine escapes Logan’s throat. It burns as it rings around his empty, cold room. He covers his face with his hands.

 Even his cheeks feel icy cold.

 Someone will notice, he tries frantically, someone will notice if I never show up again, someone will notice if I—if—if—

 But they didn’t notice. Not today.

 Not until it was too late.

 Outside, in the corridor, a dark blue door begins to fade into the wall.

———————————————————

“Logan? Logan!”

  Bam, bam, bam.

  “Logan!”

 Frantic hammering against the door jolts him awake. Immediately he winces as something in his neck catches. How—how long has he been like this?

 “Logan, please, open the door, we—we can’t open it!”

 Oh…the others have noticed…should go open the door.

 Wincing again, Logan rights himself, sitting up with his back leaning against the bed, blinking through his fuzzy glasses. Why are they so filthy?

 …oh, he must’ve been crying.

 How emotional.

 “Logan? Logan can you at least say something?”

 “I’m gonna break this door down.”

 “No!”

 Well, yes, Logan does not want his door broken down. Groaning, he stands, making his way over to the door that—wait.

 Why…why is his door so…pale?

 The knob looks almost translucent as he reaches for it, his pulse hammering as his fingers close gently around where it should be. He takes a deep breath and carefully, carefully, turns it.

 “Logan, thank god, I—“ Virgil cuts himself off with a choked gasp as he stares at Logan. “…L? What…what happened to you?”

 “What do you mean?” The instant it comes out of his mouth he knows what Virgil means. He sounds like his throat is actively attempting to cut itself off with every breath.

 A choked whine comes from behind Virgil. Logan’s eyes dart over to see Roman a sickly pale, staring at Logan, horrified.

 “…S-specs? Specs, I—Logan, oh, no, can I—can we—“ Roman reaches for him, only to freeze and quickly pull back his hand.

 Another wave of cold settles over Logan and his hand falls through the doorknob.

 “Logan,” Virgil murmurs, “can we come in, please? I, uh, we wanna talk to you for a moment.”

  Why would you want to talk to me?

 “…of course.” Logan steps aside and lets them pass, looking down at his hand.

 It’s still a hand, but it looks…thinner. He can tell where it isn’t, if that makes sense.

  When has Logan ever made sense?

 Virgil sits down on the floor, next to his bed. Roman hovers near the door, wringing his hands together as Logan carefully pushes the door closed.

 “I’m sorry, Logan.”

 Logan’s eyes widen as his head jerks around to face Roman. Roman gives him what may be the smallest smile he’s ever seen before taking a deep breath.

 “I’m sorry,” he says again, the sincerity making the cold burn in Logan’s chest, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It—it was stupid of me to press the ‘ignorant’ button and it was not my intention to hurt you. And I...slashing your box was wrong too. I just saw Patton get hurt and I—”

 He cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. 

 "I'm sorry, Logan," he repeats, softer this time, "for all that I have done to hurt you. I want to be better about it."

 Oh. “…thank you, Roman,” Logan says carefully, “I appreciate your apology.”

 Roman gives him a nod. Logan looks at Virgil, whose head still rests against the bed, staring at the two of them.

 “Is this what you wanted to discuss?”

 “Sort of, but…uh, Logan, you…you’re not looking so great, bud.” Virgil shifts, looking to Roman, who nods and takes a seat on the floor too, leaving a space between them. “Will you come sit with us?”

 “…of course.”

 Logan sits gingerly between the two of them, his gaze fixed on the outlet in the wall opposite them. He hears the rustling of fabric as Virgil shifts, and sees a little white in the corner of his eye as Roman scoots a tad closer.

 “So,” Virgil murmurs after a second, “I guess this video was…hard.”

 Roman huffs quietly. Logan nods. “Yes.”

 “Can you tell me what happened?”

 “Have the others not already told you?”

 “I’d like to hear it from you too.”

 Logan takes a deep breath, ignoring the way the cold burns the inside of his lungs. “I attempted to implement a new strategy for how I interact with you and the viewers. Instead of appearing in person, I chose to use a series of lowdowns so the information would appear in a non-invasive way.”

 There’s a moment of silence.

 “…keep going, L.”

 “They were…not as well-received as I had anticipated.”

 A flash of movement and a stifled noise make him look over. Roman fiddles with the hem of his sleeve right in front of his mouth, obviously having cut himself off. He glances over.

 “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want to interrupt. Please, continue.”

 “I, er…” Logan swallows, something about the movement of Roman’s fingers holding his focus captive. “I hurt Patton.”

 From his other side comes a sharp intake of breath. Logan looks away.

 “I hurt Patton. I could not do my job properly. I had compromised the conversation. A ‘skip all’ button appeared and…”

 “Patton pressed it,” Virgil finishes when Logan doesn’t speak, “he told me.”

 Logan doesn’t say anything. The crook manifests around his throat again and he shudders.

 “…Logan,” Roman’s worried voice says, even as it sounds like it’s coming from underwater, “Logan, did…what did that do to you?”

 “Janus,” Logan croaks, “he—his staff, it—I—“

 “Hey, hey,” Virgil croons, reaching for the hands that tug persistently at his collar, at his bandages, when did they get there?— “don’t do that, L, you’re gonna hurt yourself, stop that…”

 “Logan, can I hold your hand, please?”

 Logan lets Virgil tug his hands away from his neck. It—why—what’s happening?

 Why are Virgil’s hands so warm?

 Judging by Virgil’s expression, he’s as concerned about the stark difference in temperature as Logan is. Several emotions flit across his face before Logan can name them until they both register Roman’s question. Roman holds his hand out, all but pleading for Logan to let him.

 “Please,” he whispers, his hand starting to tremble, “please, Logan, may I…can I just hold your hand?”

 “Why are you so worried,” Logan wants to ask, “what is it that makes you so insistent about holding my hand?”

 Instead, when his voice is barely about a strangled whisper and his first attempt makes his hand phase completely through Roman’s, the question emerges as a stifled scream.

 “Shh, shh,” Roman whispers, moving in as close as he can, trying to curl his hands around where Logan’s should be, “it’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll—we’ll figure it out, Logan, we’ve got you, it’s okay—“

 Roman burns.

 “R-ro—“

 “Easy, Roman,” Virgil mutters from behind him, “take it easy, you’re gonna freak us all out.”

 “I know, I know.” Roman clutches the air of Logan’s hand tightly. “Okay…okay, Specs, we gotta…we’re gonna take some deep breaths, okay?”

 No, no, it hurts when Logan does that, what’s…

 He does as bid. The air whines in protest as he slowly breathes in and out, in and out, focusing on Roman’s thumb rubbing small circles into his hand. Roman seems to calm a little as he watches, bringing Logan’s hand close enough to cradle it in his lap as they breathe.

 “Good,” Virgil manages, still clutching Logan’s other hand tightly, his own voice shaking slightly, “okay, now we’re all just gonna calm down, yeah? Just…nice and calm…”

 Logan has no idea how long they sit there, on the floor, only that after a few more deep breaths, it no longer hurts. Roman’s hand no longer burns, it’s just warm. Virgil no longer trembles, he’s just there.

 “My apologies,” he manages, “I did not mean to be so…inconvenient.”

 Roman’s cry of protest is quickly accompanied by: “hey, no, none of that, Logan, you’re not being inconvenient. It’s been a hard day for all of us.”

 “But was I not—“

 “No,” Roman interrupts gently, “I’m sorry for interrupting, but…no, Logan. Nothing that happened today was your fault. Absolutely nothing.”

 “…I’m the one who hurt Patton.”

 “That was an accident and you didn’t know it was going to do that,” Roman says firmly, “and it was our fault we didn’t listen to you. So much that you felt that was your only option.”

 Logan swallows. “…what about Janus?”

 “What about him,” Virgil prompts, “the fact that he…came into the video?”

 “It was my lowdowns that enabled him to do so.”

 “And we pressed the ‘skip all’ button,” Roman says. “And I’m the one who gave him tips on how to impersonate the rest of us better.”

 Roman is right, even as Logan begins to feel cold again. Still, he opens his mouth.

 “I…I’m not…I can’t…it…”

 “Logan,” Roman says quietly when Logan can’t seem to find the words, “none of us are angry with you. I’m certainly not angry with you, and I’m…I’m sorry about everything that I may have done and have done to give you the impression that I do not hold you in the highest esteem possible.”

 Logan’s mouth drops open in shock.

 “I think you overdid it a little there, Princey,” Virgil chuckles.

 “But it’s true,” Roman insists, still cradling Logan’s hand in his lap, “Logan, you’re…you’re so important. And if I have done anything that makes you think I don’t care so much about you, then I…I will do everything I can to fix this.”

 What?

  What?

 “You…but we..we fight,” Logan manages weakly, “all the time, you…you disagree with me every chance you get, how—“

 “I told you on movie night,” Roman says, the corner of his mouth tugging up, “I poke fun at the things I love.”

  Love.

 Logan’s brain stutters to a pause.

 “You’re my family, Logan,” Roman continues, oblivious to the fact that Logan.exe has stopped functioning, please try again later, “and I…you are so clever, so sharp, so good that of course I want to talk to you about things. I respect your opinion so much and I want to hear everything.”

 “Yeah, if you ever stop teaching us stuff I might actually start crying and never stop.”

 “Virgil!”

 “What, like you’re any better?”

 “Of course not! I would be devastated!”

 “Wait, wait,” Logan mumbles, “you—you what?”

 “L,” Virgil calls softly, still chuckling a little as Logan turns to look at him, “L, we care about you so much. We wanted to give you space, especially after today, but…dude, you know we need you, don’t you?”

 “You need Logic,” Logan mumbles, “you…of course you need Logic.”

 “We do,” Roman confirms as the cold threatens to open up in Logan’s chest again, “but we also love Logan.”

 “You have got to stop throwing that word around,” Virgil murmurs, “you’re gonna send him into a full-blown freak-out.”

 “But we do, Virgil. We do love him, so much, and if he doesn’t know that…”

 Roman squeezes a surprisingly solid hand in his lap.

 “…then we have to remind him.”

 Virgil huffs, scooting closer. “Yeah, well, that’s easy enough.”

 No, no, it very much is not.

 Logan’s brain is still struggling to come to grips with the first thing Roman said, about poking fun at the things he loves. He hasn’t come close to tackling the fact that Roman just said they loved him.

 And Virgil agreed.

 “This…this doesn’t make sense,” Logan says weakly, “this doesn’t make sense.”

 “What doesn’t make sense?” Virgil’s hand is a warm weight against his side. “That we love you?”

 “…y-yes?”

 “Oh, sweetheart,” Virgil murmurs, “what makes you so convinced that you’re unlovable?”

 “I…I can’t…I am emotionally compromised. I cannot do my job properly. I will not be as useful as you—“

 “Do you need to be useful to be lovable?”

 “Don’t you?”

 “No,” he says firmly, pressing Logan between the two of them, “no, you don’t, Logan. We love you for you, not for what you can do.”

 “Don’t leave us, Logan.” The sheer amount of pain in Roman’s voice aches. “Not because you think we won’t want you.”

 A horrible laugh bubbles up in his throat. “And here I thought you were going to leave me.”

 “Never,” Roman promises, “never.”

 “We did threaten to break down your door because it was starting to fade from the hallway.”

 “…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

 “You don’t need to know right now, we’ll help you.”

 “I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this.”

 “We’re all working on things, it’s okay.”

 “But I—“ Logan swallows heavily— “I don’t know if I can stop believing that I…that it is just Logic you want and not Logan.”

 “If it makes you feel any better,” Roman calls, squeezing his hand, “I still struggle with that too.”

 Logan’s eyes widen. “You what?”

 “Believe that you only keep me around as long as I make things that you think are useful?” Roman smiles sadly. “Yeah.”

 “But you’re—you—Thomas would not be able to exist without you!”

 “Wouldn’t he?”

 “No! It’s not just—Roman, you’re so much more than Creativity, if you weren’t here, we…” Logan takes a deep breath and swallows. “Something would truly be lost if you weren’t here.”

 He stops.

 “…oh.”

 “Yeah, Specs,” Roman whispers, “‘oh.’”

 “…oh.”

 “Come here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, opening his arms and letting Logan fall into his embrace, “don’t you leave us, okay?”

 Virgil drapes himself over them, wrapping his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’ll figure it out, L, but you gotta stick around, okay? Don’t—well, try not to worry about whether or not you’re being the perfect Logic. We want you.”

 “…promise?”

 “I promise.”

 “I promise too,” Roman murmurs, letting Logan rest against his chest, “now why don’t we all get into something more comfortable and we can have another look at your neck?”

 “Yes. That sounds…good.”

 “And Logan?” Logan cranes his head up to look. “If you ever stop teaching us things and telling me about stuff I will start crying.”

 Despite everything, Logan smiles.

 “Don’t worry,” he says quietly, the chill finally beginning to thaw, “I’m not going anywhere.”

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[walter-boswell428]

Mission Recover

The Tower

“Alex?” Eliza Danvers asked, “Anything?”

“We are trying, mom, I swear we are trying?” Alex answered through gritted teeth.

“Alexandra Danvers,” Eliza said quietly, “I’m not upset with you, it’s the situation.”

“I know, mom,” Alex sighed, “we are all working on it.”

“I’m headed up to National City tomorrow, is there anything I can bring?” Eliza asked?

“No, but if I think of anything, I’ll let you know,” Alex relaxed, smiling. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” Eliza smiled as well, “give Kelly a hug for me.”

Alex disconnected the call, placing her phone flat on the conference table and layed her head on the cool table top.

>>>

Forty-five minutes later she felt a hand rest on her shoulder and looked up into the weary eyes of Lena Luthor. “Kelly said your mom is coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, she--she’s really worried, and I think she wants to help,” Alex explained, her voice hoarse and heavy with sleep.

“Does she have a place to stay?” Lena asked warmly, taking a seat in Kara’s chair, “I can put her up at my condo.”

Smiling, Alex patted Lena's hand, “she is going to stay at my place, I’m not using it right now.”

“You can’t keep sleeping here,” Lena pouted, “you need to get some real sleep.”

“I believe that would be the pot calling the kettle black, Ms. Luthor,” Kelly Olsen smiled tiredly as she entered the room. “You haven’t been home since you quit Luthor Corp.”

Alex blinked, surprised, “you quit?”

Lena hung her head, “I couldn’t work with him anymore, not after--not after what he did.” Her eyes lifted when she felt Alex squeeze her hand, “I couldn’t go home. Too many bad memories.”

Alex squeezed harder, “I understand. Hey, you want to--you want the key to Kara’s place?”

Lena’s eyes bulged, and she quickly shook her head, “no, no, no…” She turned and quickly walked away, heading towards her lab.

“She still blaming herself?” Alex asked as she looked to Kelly, her tone calm and relaxed. “She’s part of the team, none of us hold her responsible for what her brother did.”

“She’s--she’s complicated, Alex,” Kelly turned and looked at the door, a small frown forming on her face, “and she’s scared that she and Kara are going to be…”

“Broken? Again?” Alex spoke quietly as she laced her fingers into Kelly’s. “We really need to find Kara, before we all fall apart. Especially her girlfriend there.”

“Don’t say that out loud to her, she’s so brittle right now, it won’t take much for her to break, and Kara is her breaking point,” Kelly squeezed Alex’s fingers. “All her fears, hopes and dreams are about Kara.”

>>>

Lena’s Lab

Lena’s fingers flew over the keyboard, checking readings and double checking everything again. “Dammit, Kara!” she swore, “where are you?” Her fist slammed down on the panel.

“Lena?” Nia asked as she opened the door. “Are you okay?”

Lena took a deep breath, and rubbed her hands together before turning to face the young hero. “Sorry Nia, I’m frustrated.”

A nervous laugh escaped the younger woman’s lips, “that could be because you are taking all of this...” The Naltorian swept her arms around, “you are blaming yourself for everything.”

“Kara is lost, because I didn’t outsmart Lex! We are working alone because I am here and the other heroes don’t want to work with me!” Tears started to stream down Lena’s cheeks, “I have never been strong enough. I am here now, because I wasn’t strong enough to save her.”

“Lena, Kara doesn’t blame you. She never did,” Nia whispered.

Lena collapsed to her knees, ‘n-n-not Kara, I failed her, I-I-I failed my mother.” She raised her head and screamed.

Nia rushed to Lena, arms outstretched, wrapping them tightly around the woman, “I’m sorry, I am so sorry. Shhh, it’s okay.” Nia crouched down, taking Lena with her. Nia leaned against the desk, still holding on as Lena cried. In a soft whisper she started to sing, a Naltorian lullaby her mother had taught her.

The exhausted woman in her arms lowered herself slowly, sliding beside Nia and resting her head on her shoulder. “I’m so tired, so tired.”

Nia smiled, slowly weaving her power into the words as she sang. It had the desired effect, and Lena’s eyes slowly started to close, and her breathing eventually evened out. Within a few minutes, she stretched and slid her head down onto Nia’s crossed legs.

A few minutes later, Kelly and Alex entered the lab and found the two women sleeping on the floor.

“I know it looks uncomfortable, but maybe?” Kelly shrugged towards the two women.

Alex nodded, surrendering, and she and Kelly made their way over to the sleeping pair, joining them and dozing off quickly.

>>>

At Luthor Corp

Lex Luthor looked out over the city from his office, smiling as he looked into the sky. His computer beeped and he turned, talking to himself, “the Girl of Steel, waking up again.” He waved his hand and a hologram of the Phantom Zone appeared in space at eye level, a red dot marking the location of Kara Zor-El.

>>>

The Phantom Zone

Kara stirred slowly, moving stiffly as she stood up. She shivered as she approached the cave entrance pulling her cape around her shoulders. It was the first time she had slept without nightmares in several days, and she couldn’t help but think that it was because her father was not around at the moment.

She watched through the hazy, half-dark skies as a figure approached. It was Zor-El and she found herself disappointed that he had once again found his way back to her. She huffed out a deep sigh and turned back into the cave.

As she took a seat against the back wall, she wondered what her friends and family were up to at the moment. ‘How long have I been gone? Have they given up? Have they moved on? Has Lena?’

“I have returned, inah,” Zor-El’s hollow voice called out from the entrance of the cave.

Kara rolled over and rested her head on her arm, pulling the cape tighter around her as she ignored the call, and fell back to sleep.

>>>

The Tower

As blue eyes slid closed, green and brown burst open at the same moment. “We need her DNA!” Lena and Alex yelled at the same time.

Kelly and Nia jumped as the two women screamed at each and stood up, running towards the bank of computers on the wall. Alex was pulling up the schematics for a scanner while Lena was entering in hypothetical information to start modeling the software. She slowed down for a moment then, staring at the screen, then turned to Alex, “where are we going to get Kara’s DNA?”

Alex turned to the whole group, a grin splitting her face, “mom.” Then she turned back to the computer and activated the program she was working on.

>>>

Alex’s Home

The next morning, Alex and Kelly met Eliza at the front door of the apartment. She peeked in and noticed a third person, and smiled brightly as she recognized the small blonde woman. After hugging Alex and Kelly, she stepped through the door and walked directly towards Cat Grant, “didn’t think I would be seeing you today.”

“Well I figured since my ‘source’ for all news involving Kara and Supergirl was going to be in National City, I should make an appearance, especially since no one in Kara’s group, other than you, Eliza, notified me that Kara would be working with me on a special story,” Cat smirked as she looked over Eliza’s shoulder at Alex and Kelly. “Now, would you two like to tell me about the secret you have been hiding all morning. I am assuming it has something to do with your mother’s arrival.”

Alex scanned Eliza’s neck, “mom, where is the necklace that Kara and I got you for mother’s day?”

Eliza looked at her daughter, confusion obvious on her face, and reached into the collar of her shirt, pulling the small gold chain and heart-shaped locket from her neck. “It’s right here, where I always wear it.” Alex’s hands came up, and she stopped as Eliza held up a single finger and unclasped the necklace with practiced ease and placed it in Alex's outstretched palm. “Want to tell me what this is all about?”

On the back, there were raised Kryptonian glyphs, and Alex smiled as she remembered Kara’s fingers fumbling with the gold as she shaped the locket with her hands. She found the small imperfection in the glyph and pressed lightly, causing the back of the heart to pop open with a resounding click. Her smile grew even larger when she saw the braid of hair, four each of hers and Kara’s hair, pulled from each other’s head just before Kara’s first Earth haircut. She reverently removed the hair and inspected the roots, noting that all four of the lighter colored hairs were all intact. “Yes, yes, yes!” she yelled as she slid the hairs back into the locket and yanked out her phone, dialing Lena. She only had to wait less than one ring, “we’ve got four complete hairs, will that work?”

The four women stared at the phone in shock at the sheer scream of joy from the other end.

>>>

Early the next morning, Lena looked at the screen, her vision blurry, and saw what she was looking for. Reaching out, she grasped Alex’s hand, “We did it! Oh my god, Alex! We--we found her!”

Bleary-eyed, Alex looked at the screen, and there they were, the lifesigns they were seeking, one Kryptonian signature. “You did it Lena, you found her, you found her,” Alex ran to the door, screaming into the hallway, “Lena did it, she found her, she found Kara!”

Rushing back into the lab, she grabbed Lena in a backbreaking hug, “you did it, we are going to get her back.”

Lena stiffened, “you are, you’re going to get her back, Alex.”

Alex stopped, and took a step back, taking Lena by the shoulders, “we--we are getting her back, Lena. All of us! Do you understand, ALL OF US!”

Alex watched as something dawned on Lena, she felt the younger woman relax, “We are, we are going to get her back, Alex. All of us--all of us together.”

“That’s the Lena Luthor I know, the woman I admire. The woman Kara lo--cares for,” Alex smiled. “We need to prepare, we need weapons, and a portal.”

“I believe I can help with the portal,” Brainy said as he entered the room, causing the two women to separate. “The top two floors of the tower are set up for interdimensional travel and flight,” Brainy smiled, “something J’onn failed to mention when we all decided to use this location as our headquarters.”

“Up until this point, we had no use for the technology, I apologize for keeping it a secret,” J’onn explained as he and Eliza joined them.

“You really found her, Alex? Lena?” Kelly called out as she and Nia ran into the room.

Alex reached over and grabbed Lena’s hand, “we did!”

Lena smiled, “yes we did.” She started to giggle, and it was suddenly contagious.

All the superfriends were laughing, when Cat Grant peeked in the door, shaking her head at the scene. “Can we go get her now?” the reporter asked, “Now?”

Nia froze for a moment, as blue mist swirled around her. She seemed to be staring into space, but quickly recovered, “we can’t go now, in the morning, we must go in the morning. And we have to be prepared for anything. Kara is in danger from two men, one from our dimension and one is a ghost.” The young hero shuddered, as her vision cleared.

“Alex, you and Lena, need to get some rest. Brainy you too. I’ll take care of the prep work, each of you make a list of what you need, and it will be ready.”

“I’m going too,” Eliza spoke up.

There was a resounding no from the room, except for Cat, who smirked, worried for the group of Superheroes who had just told Supergirl’s mother, no.

“Oh really, and you are all experts on Kryptonian physiology and the mental aspect of what, MY DAUGHTER, is going through?” Eliza snarled, “which one of you thinks you can stop me?”

“Mom? Be reasonable,” Alex swallowed, realizing her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

Eliza walked up to her daughter, “Alexandra Michelle Danvers?”

Alex felt the world slowdown as her mother grasped her wrist, spun Alex around and flipped her daughter onto her back. “Oof,” escaped from Alex’s lips and as she breathlessly rolled back to her stomach, taking Kelly’s hand and standing up as everyone applauded. “I--I guess you are--are going,” she grunted out.

“Yes, I guess she is,” Cat Grant laughed, “I on the other hand will stay behind and wait for this team to recover our girl.”

The team filed out, each heading to his or her own bedroom, still laughing as Alex limped down the hallway. Lena stopped, and headed back to the lab, stopping in front of Eliza, “I haven’t had time to--I didn’t set up--we don’t have sunlamps.”

“Lena,” Eliza said, “I created the sunlamps, I will make sure they are ready by morning, okay?”

Lena nodded, afraid to speak. She swallowed, and opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out. She closed her mouth and stared at the floor, and suddenly found herself gathered into Eliza’s arms. Soft sobbing sounds escaped Lena’s mouth, “it’s my fault, this is all my…”

“Shh, hush, Lena,” Eliza cooed, “it’s not your fault, sweetheart.” She pressed the woman into her chest, holding her gently and letting her cry. “She won’t blame you either, she believes in you Lena, she cares for you.”

“I don’t deserve her, or any of you,” Lena stuttered, settling into Eliza’s arms.

Eliza smiled, “you are absolutely just as hopeless as Kara. She loves you, Lena”

“Eliza?” Lena looked shocked.

“You are her sun, you are her everything Lena, remember that, because she is going to need us, all of us when she comes home,” Eliza said with a smile. “Go, get some sleep so we can go rescue your girl.”

>>>

The Tower

Lena stood outside the door guarding the top two floors of the tower, her hand hovering over the handle, self doubt crushing down on her shoulders. She didn’t hear the approaching steps as the rest of the Superfriends came up the hallway.

“Lena,” Alex smirked, “if you really want to go get Kara, you have to turn the handle.”

Alex watched a small smile find it’s way to Lena’s lips. Watched as Lena’s hand closed around the handle and turned, and listened as steely determination rang through Lena’s words, “let’s go.”

They all took their seats, each seemingly knowing where they should sit. At Lena’s station was a large button, obviously the one that would activate the transdimensional portal. J’onn and Eliza arrived a few minutes later taking their seats at the pilot’s station. Eliza looked over the controls, and pressed the launch button. “I wasn’t aware that you spoke Martian, Eliza?”

“I started practicing last night, I also speak French, German, Japanese and Kryptonese,” Eliza smiled. “Lena, would you be a dear, and activate the portal.”

Alex suddenly looked mortified, and Kelly felt her tense up, “what’s wrong, honey?”

“Mom speaks Kryptonese,” Alex said in a whisper, staring at the back of her mom’s head. “Kara and I used to talk to each other thinking that she and Jeremiah couldn’t understand.”

“Mother knows all, Alexandra,” Eliza said, peeking over her shoulder and winking.

Then the world broke, and the portal opened…

>>>

Luthor Corp

“Mr. Luthor,” the computer’s synthesized voice spoke through the speaker, “a portal has opened over National City. Based on your sister’s studies, the portal appears to be…”

“Shut up! Shut the hell up!” Lex growled. “Prepare my armor!”

Within minutes, Lex was suited up and launching himself towards the portal that Lena had created.

>>>

The Nightmares

Nia (A New Power Rises)

The bridge was dark, everyone was gone. Nia took a shaky breath, shivering in the cold blackness. She took another breath, then another. As her body relaxed, she tried to pull on her power. A blue glow started to emanate from her fingers, casting soft shadows throughout the dark bridge. One of the shadows came to life, walking towards her, wearing the face of her sister Maeve.

“You will fail, Nia Nal,” the shadow hissed, as it slid from shadow to shadow. “You carry the power of our mother with no knowledge of its use. You will fail your family…”

Nia tried to focus, to draw on more of her power, when out of the shadows walked Yvette's attacker, “keep trying Dreamer, you failed Yvette and it took everyone but you to find Supergirl,” the shadow’s words slid from it’s throat. “You fail, again and again…”

Nia started to raise her hands to her ears, when a final shadow appeared. “You aren’t worthy of the power Nia,” the words flowed from the mouth of the creature as its eyes opened and Nia realized she was seeing herself.

She dropped to her knees, a silent scream coming from her opened mouth. She pushed, her light slowly dimming, allowing the shadows closer and closer.

“Nia, Nia,” she heard a soft whisper in her ear, “you have always been a hero, it’s always been inside you…”. She heard the words in the voices of her family, and with each speaker her powers continued to grow, pushing against the shadows. Her eyes opened wide as Kara’s voice reached her ears, “you got this, little sister.”

With those words, a mighty roar spread through the darkness as a lioness made up of Nia’s light burst forward and destroyed the shadows.

Brainy (Form Own Destiny)

Sitting in his throne, Brainiac looked out over the destroyed planet that had once been Earth. With his enhanced powers, he could see the remains of the heroes of this petty planet, Guardian’s shield, Sentinel’s jacket, Martian Manhunter’s boots, Supergirl’s cape. Then he looked down into his hand, where he held Nia’s mask.

He sat staring at the mask for hours, running it between his fingers, relishing it weight, trying to remember the eyes that had been behind it.

“What have I become?” The words escaped his mouth in one breath.

“You have become that which you were always meant to be, offspring of Brainiac,” a shadow whispered, “you have become death, and the universe will be better for it.”

“This is not who I am?” Brainy panted, “I…”

“Ehehaha, you speak as if you can fight destiny,” the shadow laughed. “You started on this path as soon as you allied with the Earthling named Lex Luthor. He stained your soul, and now there is no turning back. You will kill them all.”

Brainy’s eyes got wide, tears started to fall, “no, I--I refuse to believe this fantasy.”

“You act as if you have a choice,” the voice whispered.

“All sentient creatures have a choice,” Brainy spoke with confidence, then felt an invisible hand take his own. “We make wrong choices. We use them to make us better, stronger…”

“IT IS YOUR DESTINY!” The voice screamed.

Gripping the hand tighter, Brainiac stood up, “logic does not dictate destiny. My friends…” the hand squeezed back, “my family forgave me, you are not by destiny.”

The lights came up, and Brainy found himself staring into the glowing eyes of Dreamer.

J’onn (Protect Your Family)

Green lidded eyes opened slowly. The Martian Manhunter shook his head, and looked around, trying to get his bearings. ‘DEO Headquarters?’ he thought to himself and attempted to move, but found himself unable to move.

Susan Vasquez and Alex walked into the room and the corner lit up showing Winn sitting at his computer. J’onn tried to speak, but no words would come. He couldn’t even move his head. Then from behind he heard booted feet approaching. He tried to turn, to fight whatever it was that had him trapped.

The first bullet struck Susan in the back of the head, the second hit Winn in the chest. The third and fourth hit Alex in the arm and then the leg, dropping her to the floor, screaming in pain and firing at her unseen enemies. The bullets passed right through him and J’onn realized it was him, he was the unseen killer.

Kara entered a moment later, shielding her sister with her body, as her heat vision fired through him over and over again.

A green round shot out, catching her in the chest, and J’onn started to breathe even harder, panic pushing him to move, but he couldn’t.

He blinked back angry tears, and felt himself starting to rise, to float away. He could see the enemy and it was Lex Luthor.

The balding man looked up at him and sneered, “running from another fight, J’onn.” Then he turned his attention back to Kara and Alex who looked up at him, fear in their eyes. Lex took a step forward, raising his arms, the noise of cycling rounds was deafening as he locked on J’onn’s earthbound daughters.

His scream gave the girls a moment but it wasn’t enough as Lex started to fire, his rounds getting closer and closer.

“It’s not real, it’s not real,” J’onn started to say to himself, “it’s not real,” He cringed in horror as the rounds got closer and closer. “IT’S NOT REAL!”

The lights came back…

Kelly (Guardian Shines)

The doors slid open and Kelly Olsen slipped in silently, moving from shadow to shadow watching and listening as an obviously controlled Lena and Eliza studied a caged phantom zone demon. As she slipped from one hiding spot, the creature spotted her and the woman froze in place.

“Kelly,” the creature hissed from the mouths of Eliza and Lena, “you should not have come here, Kelly Olsen.”

Kelly took a deep breath, getting her breathing under control, ‘this isn’t real, Nia warned us, Alex warned me, it’s all a nightmare.’

A familiar voice sounded in the woman’s ears, slurring slightly, like she had drunk one beer to many before bed time. Kelly turned towards the sound, her eyes opening wide with shock, as Alex approached, her eyes red, “Hello, Kelly.”

Stumbling back, Kelly stuttered, “what, Al--Alex?” She shifted away from the woman, holding her hands out to keep the thing that was her Alex at a distance. “Alex, this--this isn’t you, fight it, if anyone can, it’s you, honey.”

The creature began to hiss through Alex, Lena and Eliza’s mouths again, “why would we fight, we are stronger, physically and intellectually than you could ever hope to be.”

Kelly’s eyes closed tightly, ‘it’s not true, Alex would never say that.’ She opened her eyes back, and looked at the demon creature, “Alex, this isn’t something you would say. The Alex I know asked me to move in with her, she wears her fuzzy socks on a cold night in the winter. She shared her deepest secret with me and her deepest fears,” The Alex creature’s eyes flickered a moment and Kelly smiled softly, “remember the first time we met, at the hospital, how we butted heads? How we were so sure we were right and the other person was wrong? I knew then that I wanted a part of your life. All the ups and downs Alex, I can’t think of anyone else I would rather be with right now.”

Alex’s eyes closed, almost as if she was in pain, then they opened and Kelly smiled, relieved to see the brown eyes of her Alex. “Kelly, I--I didn’t mean any of that, I swear it wasn…”

Kelly smirked, “you sound just like Kara when you ramble.” Then she pressed their lips together and pulled Alex into a tight hug.

“He’s coming back, Kelly, you need to listen to Nia, let her help, trust her,” Alex said as she pulled away. “Save us, Kells. Save us…” Her eyes closed again and when they opened Kelly was once again staring into the blood red orbs of the demon.

“Nia?” Kelly gasped, backing away slowly.

“You can do this, Alex knows it and so do I,” she heard Nia’s voice whisper in her ear. “Be the Guardian your brother could never really become. Be the hero we all know you are…”

As the voice faded, Kelly saw a blue mist swirl around her, felt armor start to form on her frame. Looking down, she found herself wrapped in blue and gold, a helmet formed around her head and she watched with a smile as a gold shield appeared on her left arm.

The creature picked that moment to attack. Kelly leaped back, pressed off the wall and jumped into the air, spinning as she lifted the shield's cutting edge level with the demon’s neck. She heard it scream, landed in a crouch and turned, watching with satisfaction as it dissolved into mist.

“Good job, Guardian,” Nia said as she took Kelly’s hand and the darkness faded…

Eliza (A Mother’s Love)

Eliza stepped into the clearing, listening as Alex begged Kara to come back, to not die. Her heart clenched and she stopped. The sunlight in the plants started to move towards her adopted daughter then stopped as Snowbird swooped down from the sky and attacked Alex, driving her oldest child to the ground. The woman stopped, hovering over her girls. A growl rose in Eliza’s throat as she gathered herself up and moved out of the shadows, “get away from my girls, you bitch.”

She stopped as the creature looked up at her, red eyes, dead and uncaring staring at her. “You are weak, Eliza Danvers, not even worth my time.”

Through gritted teeth, “try me, I’ve faced nightmares worse than anything you can conjure up. Bring it on!”

The creature tilted its head away, ignoring Eliza completely and lowered itself over Alex and Kara again.

Eliza swung a tree limb at the creature's head, “I said get away from my girls!”

The creature recoiled and lost the shape it was holding, transforming into a phantom zone ghost. Eliza growled again, swinging once again at the monster’s head. She grunted as it connected with something solid and the creature howled in pain.

“Still think I’m not worth your time?” Eliza threatened.

The girls stirred and Eliza turned her head. The creature picked that moment and attacked, but Eliza was prepared and waited, raising the stick like a spear, watching in satisfaction as it impaled itself and began to dissolve into mist.

“Never doubt a mother’s love,” Eliza snarled as the light returned…

Alex (A Sister’s Bond)

Alex slowly opened her eyes and looked around. Her breath caught in her throat, as one thought came to her, ‘Kara’s apartment!’ She watched her sister’s dark shape, shooting her heat vision at the rack of clothes in the corner of the bedroom. Rushing forward, she grabbed a fire extinguisher, pulled the pin and put out the fire. Kara turned her back and strutted towards the window. “Kara?”

“Don’t even Alex,” Kara didn’t turn around, she just continued to talk, “jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

Alex shook her head. She’d been here before. She looked around the room, at Kara’s black uniform. ‘Astra’s dead, Kara’s--she’s been exposed to--to Red Kryptonite,’ Alex’s brown eyes opened. She was reliving one of the worst nights of her life.

Kara opened the window, “how does it feel, Alex? How does it feel to be less?”

“I failed you Kara, I should have been with you, I should have protected you…” Alex cried out, interrupted.

The Kara creature turned around, now longer wearing the black, now she was beaten and bruised, “you have always failed me.”

Alex’s breath caught, it was the night Reign had beaten her. The coma, Kara’s heart stopping. “I…”

The creature stopped again, and Kara was lying in a forest clearing dying as Alex struggled to remember, to save her.

“Kara…” Alex’s breath caught, she was losing it, losing control.

Kara was trapped in the fortress, the kryptonite leaching into her system. “You always arrive too late, Alexandra Danvers.”

Now Kara was against a white wall, as kryptonite slowly killed her. She was fading away, disappearing into the phantom zone.

“NO!” Alex screamed, “I haven’t failed her, not like this. Show me the times she didn’t get hurt, show me the times I held her hand and supported her. Show me the times she held my hand and supported me. WE ARE SISTERS, we fight, we hurt each other and then we get up, wipe our hands and face the world. I will save her, she will save me, and together, WE WILL KICK YOUR ASS!” Alex shook with tears, took a deep breath and stepped forward, “you will not stop us from getting her back, so GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

She fell to her knees as the darkness faded and Kelly wrapped her arms around her…

Lena (For Better or For Worse)

Lena could feel herself falling, plummeting through her own memories.

She was standing by the lake shore watching her mother’s hand sink beneath the surface.

She was standing in the hallway of a dark house, looking into the face of a woman who would never love her.

She sat alone in the cafeteria at the college, too young to understand why no one wanted to eat with her.

She was sitting alone in the courtroom, listening as Lex was sentenced.

She was always alone, until one bright light forced its way into her life.

“She’s Supergirl,” Lex said as she pulled the trigger.

Kara was standing before her then, her blue eyes hidden behind the red of the creature from the Phantom Zone, “she betrayed you, she doesn’t trust you, she is scared of you and you left her alone to suffer by your brother’s hand.”

Lena fell to her knees, a crushing sob rushing from her throat, “no.”

“It’s your fault Lena Luthor, all of it is your fault,” the creature said over and over again as it took the shape of all the Superfriends, Sam, Andrea, Lillian and Lex. Then it took Nia’s form and it’s red eyes shifted to purple.

“It wasn’t you Lena,” Nia spoke in a confident whisper, “she never doubted you, she never thought you failed her, she believes in you. We all do.”

Lena stood up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, “Kara?”

The creature screamed as it took the shape of Kara Zor-El. Blue eyes peeked out through the fingers on its face.

“Kara?” Lena’s voice cracked, “we are coming, we are coming to get you.”

“Lena? Lena, you found me?” Kara responded, her eyes brightening and her voice sounding strong.

“We will be there soon, darling. Just hold on a little longer. We are all coming for you,” Lena promised, her green eyes shining.

“Lex is here, Lena. Don’t trust my father,” Kara warned, her blue eyes slowly fading and returning to red. “Be safe Lena, be careful my Zhao.” And then she was gone.

“You failed her again, Lena Luthor,” the creature growled, and floated forward. “I will end you now,”

Lena stepped forward, “do your worst?” She held her hands out, palms facing the creature, but she wasn’t alone. Nia was standing beside her holding her outstretched left hand. She felt a grip in her right and Alex was standing there. Then Brainy, Kelly, J’onn and Eliza stepped forward.

The creature emitted a low growl and continued to move forward, expecting the Superfriends to retreat. When they failed to do so, it stopped and screamed. But the team held its ground, raising weapons and hands, all their considerable power came to bear as they fired away. Dreamer’s energy captured the monster, wrapping it in unbreakable bands of dream energy. The rest continued to flay the creature with whatever weapons they were carrying, watching as it dissolved into mist and disappeared.

>>>The Rescue

The phantom closed in on Kara, forcing the hero to duck and roll towards the other side of the cave. She stood quickly and bumped into Zor-El forcing both of them into the wall. The phantom turned, and was rushing towards them.

Kara pushed her father to the side, shoving him away, as the ghost slammed her into the stone wall, the force of the blow caused her head to crack against the solid surface, which brought stars to the Girl of Steel's eyes. She slid down the wall, the small cavern spinning under her feet. She felt the stone slice through her uniform, hissing as it ripped into her back.

The creature reared back, slicing its claws towards Kara’s face. She ducked, dropping to her side, but in doing so she caught her arm on a rough outcropping, tearing a huge gash in her arm, and leaving a huge smear of blood on the wall.

Lex Luthor stepped behind and grabbed her by the arms, wrenching them up behind her back. “I should have just killed you back in the fortress, but I guess this way, I get you and your friends.” He lifted Kara over his head and tossed her through the opening of the cave.

Kara landed on her back, the pain lancing throughout her body. She rolled over and tried to crawl away, rising to her hands and knees.

Lex, the phantom and her father closed in on her, moving purposely out of the entrance and spreading out.

Kara backed against a large outcropping, pushing herself to her feet. The phantom creature closed in and Kara locked eyes with it, daring it to enter her head. The creature froze, it had never had a willing victim. The pause would be it’s last thought.

Kara looked up as a strange shaped ship blasted through a tear in the void above. Her eyes followed a strange device that plummeted from the sky, landing about fifteen feet away. Lex and her father were so busy watching the ship, they failed to notice how close the device landed and were completely unprepared when it went off…

Pure sunlight washed over Kara and she smiled as she watched Alex and Lena drop from the ship followed by someone else. She felt her cuts start to heal and her muscles stopped aching for the first time in what seemed like forever. She stood tall as Alex dropped in a crouch at her side, the Hand of the Soldier shaping itself into a spear of some sort. Her smile grew even larger as Lena landed, wrapped in some sort of alien armor with her arm wrapped around, Eliza? Kara’s brow crinkled as she shook her head. “Eliza?” She asked, confused.

“I’ll explain later, Kar,” Alex said as she scanned her sister, noting the rips and tears in her uniform, and the blood stains.

The four women turned to face their enemies as Lex spoke, “how nice that you brought the whole family, little sister.”

Lena swallowed, speechless that Lex was actually here, her breathing sped up and her eyes were wide. “Shut up Lex, Lena’s with us, and there is nothing you can say that will ever change that,” Alex growled, as Kara stepped forward and took Lena’s fingers in her palm.

Lena stood up straighter, “Activate!”

Kara looked on impressed as Lena was wrapped in a blue suit of armor, stepping in front of Kara and Eliza.

Alex stepped up beside Lena and the fight was on.

>>>

Zor-El’s eyes became bright red orbs as he focused on Kara and Eliza, his feet lifting off the ground as he floated forward.

“Kara!” Alex yelled, “keep mom safe, Lena and I will handle Lex.”

Kara immediately stepped in front of Eliza, as Lena and Alex shot forward to take on Lex.

“How about we take care of each other, honey?” Eliza asked, as she pulled a collapsible staff from her belt, pressed the button and smiled wickedly as it extended.

Kara dropped into a crouch, her body preparing for the onslaught. “We can do this, he can shapeshift and get into your head.”

“They already tried. They’ve got no power left over us, and you just need to believe in yourself and your family, okay Kara?” Eliza responded, her eyes never leaving the creature, as she started to spin the staff in her hands.

On the other side of the field, Lex fired a rocket at Lena, and watched in anger as Alex brought up her arm, as the Hand formed a shield, deflecting the missile back at him. “Learned that one from my girlfriend, Lex,” as she rolled out of the way.

Lena rolled her eyes inside her helmet, allowing the computer to aim at the Phantom Zone projector on Lex’s back. As the tone sounded, she launched four shots, four different rockets that zoomed towards Lex at high speed. He ducked each one and rolled up to take a shot.

“Missed,” Lex laughed.

“Did she?” Alex said as she came up in front of him and sliced through his missile launcher, watching in satisfaction as it bounced away.

Lex looked confused, then shocked as all four rockets crashed into his back, detonating and tearing the projector to shreds, along with a portion of his armor.

Zor-El shot towards Eliza and was caught by surprise as Kara fired beam after beam of her heat vision at him, burning portions of his robes away. As the last shot struck him in the chest, he veered away from Eliza and focused his attention on Kara.

Kara shot forward to meet him, catching his clawed hands as he brought them down towards her face. “Never underestimate them,” she said as she held the claws back.

“Never underestimate?” the creature asked.

The staff, charged with Nia’s dream energy, came down on the monster’s head, slicing through it and turning it to ash.

“Never underestimate my family,” Kara smiled, then fell to her knees as her energy gave out. Eliza caught her and both women watched as Lex was surrounded by Alex and Lena.

Lex growled, swinging his fist, first at Alex and then at Lena. “I’m going to kill you all, do you understand, all of you.”

Lena placed a kick at the ankle of his suit, listening to the sound of crushed metal, as the boot shattered around Lex’s foot.

The Hand of the Shoulder continued to change in Alex’s skilled hand, removing power supplies with a knife’s edge and blasting away energy cores and other important components one after another.

Lex’s forward momentum stopped as his suit froze, and the maniac found himself trapped as Kara and Eliza joined his sister and Alex. He continued to spit insult after insult at each of the women, until Eliza took a deep breath and walked up to him, reared back and punched him in the nose.

Lex’s head lolled in his suit, his breathing sounding haggard through his broken nose.

An exhausted Kara looked up at the three women, “can--can we go home now?”

All three women smiled at the hero and shook their heads, leading her to the slowly descending ship.

>>>

Reunions

As the group entered the ship, they were approached by the rest of the team. Lena, still suffering from self doubt, broke off and headed towards her station. Eliza watched her go, her eyes full of concern.

Kara was barely holding herself up right, but at the sight of her friends, she opened her arms.

Brainy was the first to reach her, tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he wrapped his arms tightly around the Kryptonian. “I missed you, Kara.”

Smiling into his shoulder, Kara whispered, “Me too, Brainy.”

Kelly was next, gently pulling Kara forward, “I took care of her for you.”

“You took care of her for both of us, Kelly. Are you mad?” Kara asked softly.

“Mad about you being Supergirl? No. Mad that you got yourself into this, a little,” she smiled. They worked their way apart, “It’s good to have you back, Kara.” She leaned in and placed a light kiss on Kara’s forehead, “love you, Supergirl.”

J’onn came forward next, and everything he needed to say was conveyed in strong protective arms as they wrapped themselves around the woman he thought of as his own child. Tears fell from his eyes as he kissed the top of her head.

Nia stopped a step away, opening her mouth to speak, tears streaming down her cheeks. Kara stared back, smiling slightly, “come here, little sister.”

Nia crumbled into Kara’s arms, heaving sobs sounding from her throat, “it was you, you came to me.”

“You called, I came,” Kara said into the top of Nia’s head. Her lips brushed the other woman’s temple, “whenever you need me, I’ll be there for you.”

The hug could have lasted hours, when in reality it was just a few minutes. Then it was Eliza’s turn and tears flowed from both women. The older woman crushed the hero to her chest, pouring as much love into the hug as was possible in the moments they had.

Sniffling, Kara looked up into Eliza’s eyes and in that moment, she thanked Rao for the family she had found when she came to Earth.

Alex approached the two women next, wrapping her arms around them both, feeling her sister snuggle closer to her as Eliza pulled away, giving her daughters a moment of their own. The sister’s collapsed to their knees, refusing to let go of one another. Alex peppered Kara’s head with kisses, “she did it Kara. Lena found you. Everything you said about her was right.”

“I get to be right occasionally,” Kara smiled through her tears. “Thank you so much for not giving up on me, for coming after me, for being my big sister.”

“Always,” Alex smiled, her tears streaming down her cheeks as Kara gripped her harder.

>>>

And Then There Were Two

Kara stood up from her knees and made her way towards the striking brunette sitting at the control panel on the far side of the bridge. Unshed tears were filling Lena’s eyes as she focused on the blue eyes that were moving towards her.

Kara finally reached Lena, her breathing and heartbeat loud in her ears.

Lena stood, her hands folded in front of her, fingers twisting, her lower lip grasped tightly between her teeth.

“Hey you,” Kara whispered. “Thank you.”

Words spilled from Lena’s lips, “I’m so, so sorry. I should have known, I tried to find you, Lex is staying. I missed you so…”

Kara chuckled lightly, as tears ran down her cheeks, “Lena, I’m going to kiss you now, and if you will have me, I’m going to spend the rest of my life kissing you and saying thank you for saving me.”

Lena sucked in a breath, but once again words failed her and she simply nodded. Parched lips met hers and she snaked her arms around Kara’s neck, pulling her forward, and deepening the kiss. Kara smiled and sighed as Lena’s tongue flicked over her teeth and pushed its way deeper.

“I missed you, Kara,” Lena smiled as they broke apart.

“I missed you too, Zhao,” Kara said as she leaned in for a second kiss.

>>>

The Tower

The ship docked with the tower, and the crew disembarked, everyone heading towards the medical bay.

As Kara reached the doors, a huge grin came to her face when she noticed Cat and M’gann waiting for her to walk through...

[bohemianrequiem]

Here’s my Codeswapped gift for @nemesisadraste ! I had so much fun writing for Sam and expanding upon her relationship with Odd and the other Lyoko Warriors. I hope you have just as much fun reading it!

Prompt - Sam becomes a Lyoko Warrior

If you had told Sam earlier today that her evening would be taking a turn for the unexpected, she wouldn’t have doubted it-

Things were always that way when Odd was around and that was how she liked it. The unpredictability of their dates as a simple plan for dinner would turn into an hours long romp through the market district of town, both of them perusing clothes neither one could afford, was just another part of the fun of their relationship. Funnily enough, she had come to begin expecting these little pleasant surprises the more time they spent together. However, there was another trend that Sam was beginning to develop over the last few weeks.

First, Odd’s phone would ring and would with his nonchalant greeting of “What’s up,”followed by the name of one of his various friends from Kadic. Usually Jeremy or Ulrich, sometimes Yumi, and very rarely a strange girl named Aelita would be on the other end. After a moment, Odd’s brow would furrow, his jaw would set, and an uncharacteristic seriousness would envelop his entire person. “For real? Yeah, I’ve got it. On my way.” He would then flip his cell shut and turn his gaze towards Sam, his features slowly softening to the goofy boy she’d come to care so much for.

“Sam, I know what you’re gonna say-“ He placed his hands up in mock surrender, a worried chuckle already slipping past his lips before he could even finish his sentence.

“Let me guess, you’ve gotta go?” Sam sighed, more out of habit than any actual disappointment. Like she’d said, this was becoming a frequent portion of their date nights. At least this time they’d actually got to enjoy a movie together and make it halfway through dinner. Her burger half eaten and now being laid down on a plastic red tray, she shrugged. “Do what you gotta do, man. Text me when you get back to the dorms for the night?”

Odd blinked once, then twice. “A-Are you sure?” Obviously surprised at her lack of frustration at his need to preemptively end their date. Sam just waved her hand in dismissal, as if pushing the worry out of existence.

“Yeah, Dude. I know Kadic’s got you guys doing hella group projects this semester. Go help your friends.” At least, that was the excuse Odd had used before. She might have believed it the first time or two, even if schoolwork wasn’t usually that high up on Odd’s list of priorities, but something about his behavior recently had clued her into the fact that this was about something much bigger than school. “So, go on. I’ll be fine making it back to my place.”

Odd took his bottom lip between his front teeth, a habit that Sam had long since stopped trying to break him of, then nodded. “Thanks, Sam. You’re the best.” He gave a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek, then dashed off down the sidewalk. “I’ll text you later, okay?!” He called out over his shoulder as he rounded the first corner.

Another thing Sam had come to accept about Odd was that he was a terrible liar. Case in point, he had literally just ran off in the opposite direction of his school. After a couples minutes of anxious internal debate, she began to follow.

~~~

When Sam arrived at the old factory on the outskirts of the river that cut through town, she had initially worried that she’d lost Odd’s trail and accidentally followed someone else’s. After all, what would Odd be doing at some old place like this?

However, maybe this place wasn’t quite as abandoned as she thought. Despite the paint having chipped off the walls decades ago and piles of scrap iron cropping up throughout the interior, the floor looked relatively clear of dust and other small debris. Somebody, or maybe a groups of somebodies, had obviously been coming through here quite frequently to keep the dust and other objects from settling. That and the ropes hanging from the ceiling, one of which was still gently swaying from side to side as if it had just been handled, clued her into things not being quite what they appeared.

Deciding not to trust the rickety old elevator, which likely didn’t even run anymore, Sam followed one such dust-free path from the main floor of the factory down to another area full of old machines. They looked like the ones used in car factories to put heavy pieces of metal on the chassis of vehicles together, but had obviously been in a state of disuse just as long as much of the factory.

From this room, a winding trail that many times lead Sam to various dead-ends finally culminated in her opening a door into a spacious computer room, complete with some type of projection emanating from the center of the room. A few steps in and she could hear the frantic clicking and clacking of a keyboard across the room. Hidden by the sizable monitor in front of his face, a young boy spoke little.

“Okay, Odd. You should be able to see the construct now.....Yes, I know it’s huge, but you need to get inside of it and regroup with Yumi and Ulrich. I’ve lost contact with them for exactly-“ He checked his watch. “Ten minutes now. And communication with Aelita is spotty, at best. It’s up to you to....to uh....” His eyes lifted from his watch’s face to see Sam standing just a handful of steps into the room.

“Yo,” She put her hand in the area in a tentative wave. “Jeremy, right? I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this isn’t your social studies project, is it?”

Sam swore she could see a vein in Jeremy’s forehead pulse as he slowly sat backwards and readjusted a microphone attached to his earpiece. “Odd? Were you aware that your girlfriend is here at the factory?”

“Hey! I’m right here!” Was he seriously just going to ignore her and act like they weren’t even in the same room together? “Is that really Odd on the other end? Let me talk to him.” She took a number of determined steps towards Jeremy, the boy defensively putting his hands up around his earpiece.

“No, no, I don’t think she’s infected, but she does look awfully upset. What’d you do to her this time, Romeo?” He stood up and put his hands out placatingly. “Samantha, please-“

“It’s Sam,” She interrupted as her march came to a standstill in front of Jeremy, placing her hands on her hips and impatiently tapping her foot. “Never Samantha.”

“Sam. Right.” He nervously adjusted his glasses. “I know this is gonna be difficult to understand, but you can’t talk to Odd right now. He’s on a very important mission right now. Odd’s still here at the factory with us, at least technically, but you’re not going to be able to see him until he’s finished.”

A mission? Was this some kind of code or was this dude seriously losing his marbles? “What do you mean he’s here but he’s not? Why can’t Odd just tell me all this himself, without all the lying and hiding?”

“He’s not hiding, Sam, he’s doing something extremely important. Come look.” Jeremy motioned her over to the computer monitor behind him. As she took in the many blinking lights and constantly changing lines of code, Jeremy sat down and relaxed. “See? He’s right here, located outside of this massive structure the geography of which I’ve been mapping for days now. The only problem is that I can’t quite figure out what’s inside of it. That’s where Odd and the others come in.”

“The others? You mean Yumi, Ulrich, and Canada girl, right?” Sam shook her head. “Wait, wait, so you expect me to believe that Odd’s inside there? Inside the computer?”

Jeremy nodded. “Exactly.”

Sam had come to accept a lot of things about Odd: from his personality, to his hobbies, but this went beyond all of that completely. Just as she was about to voice her disbelief again, a frantic beeping came from the computer. She watched over Jeremy’s shoulder as he began typing with near reckless abandon and spoke into his microphone again.

“Odd, bad news. You’ve got hostile hornets inbound. Four of them by the looks of it.” Four red dots appeared on screen, worryingly close to a blue dot indicating Odd’s location. The hornets zipped around the screen, surrounding Odd and barraging him attacks that Sam couldn’t see. From the way Jeremy’s face contorted with worry, though, she didn’t need to see the attack to know things were bad.

“This isn’t good. The hornets shouldn’t be able to move that fast. It’s like being inside the construct has super charged them or something.” A dull beep sounded and Jeremy tsked. “Odd, you’ve just lost fifteen life points. Be careful!” Sam could barely hear her boyfriend’s voice over the other end and desperately wished she could reach out and answer.

“What happens when he hits zero?” She asked, the quietness of her voice surprising her in the moment.

“What?” Jeremy was busy typing away on the keyboard as he tried to discover the source of the hornets’ sudden power-up.

“I asked you what happens when Odd hits zero life points. You said he already lost fifteen, so what happens to him when he hits zero?”

Jeremy pursed his lips. “He’ll be devirtualized. Right now, he’s inside the computer program, but if he loses all of his life points when he’ll be ousted and return to being here in the factory with us.” He added under his breath with added frustration. “At least, that’s what’s supposed to happen....”

“And what does that mean?” Sam was beginning to lose her patience with Jeremy’s infuriating tendency to under-explain what was going on.

“It means, well, that they aren’t coming back like they’re supposed to.” He leaned back and breathed out a deep sigh. “Yumi and Ulrich have already lost all of their life points, and yet haven’t devirtualized. I can only guess as to why, but their shared code must be stuck in some kind of feedback loop within the simulation. To put it simply...” He looked up to her. “I can’t get them out.”

Sam nearly slammed her hand down on the computer keyboard, but fearing damaging Odd, settled for simply unleashing a verbal tirade onto Jeremy. “And you just sent Odd in there to deal with it by himself? I thought you guys were supposed to be his friends!”

“Of course we are!” Jeremy shouted back. “Odd knows the risk, so do Yumi and Ulrich. He’s not alone though, he has Aelita inside Lyoko to help him and he has me out here to provide support. Ever since we’ve met, we’ve all always had each other’s backs and that’s not going to stop now.”

“Then...” Sam’s gaze turned from Jeremy and settled on the computer screen. Her anger slowly ebbing away and revealing the worry underneath. “What are we going to do now? What can we do to help Odd and the others?”

Jeremy bent over the keyboard. She could practically hear the gears turning inside of his mind - there was a reason his friends all called him Einstein - until he snapped his fingers. “If we could temporarily overload the construct with some bad data, then that should be enough to slow down the hornets and put Odd at a greater advantage.” A flurry of keystrokes filled the air. “But, ah, it’s no use. I have no dominion inside the construction, no access to any towers, and I can’t directly send anything to Aelita in order to sabotage the hornets. If we went that route, I would have had to given the bad data to Odd right as he was being virtualized. But it’s too late now-“

“So give it to me.” Sam cut in. “If you can’t give it to anyone else to make the enemies easier to destroy, then upload the data with me and I can take it to Odd and Aelita.”

“It’s not that simple, Sam.” Jeremy was about to launch into a deep explanation of the danger of a first timer launching themselves into an already precarious situation, before Sam put her hands on the arms of his chair and gently swiveled it around to face her.

“You said you care about Odd, well so do I. I don’t care about what might happen to me, I just want to chance to help.” Her voice was quiet, but sincere. A bit of insincerity slipped in with her next words. “ ‘Sides, I wasn’t asking, Pointdexter. Now put me in before I start keyboard smashing this thing.”

Jeremy thought for a long moment, then another, before slowly nodding. He could see why Odd was so crazy about this girl. “Fine. Head downstairs to the transporters and I’ll guide you from over the speakers. I can’t follow, but I can get you where you need to go from here.”

~~~

It was like a rush of electricity moving up her spine, before spreading throughout her entire body. The next thing she knew, Sam was staggering to the ground and could barely catch herself before falling face first. In her ear, Jeremy’s voice spoke.

“A little rougher than the usual, but not bad for your first time. I kind of had to rush your Lyoko avatar, but it should suffice for the time being. Most of it was procedurally generated anyways so-“

“Dude, c’mon, mission at hand before we start talking technical?” Sam shook her head as if clearing out his voice.

“Right, right, of course. You should be able to see the construct before you, it’s geometry is marginally different from the surrounding sector.” True to his word, her dark eyes scanned upwards and eyed the pale stone fortress before her. It’s coloring clashes drastically with the surrounding fog and light lavender rock of the Mountain Sector.

“The entrance is wide open. Isn’t this usually the part of the game where you have to defeat some kind of gatekeeper or something to get further into the dungeon?” Sam remarked as she swiftly passed into the threshold of the construct fortress.

“This isn’t a game, Sam. This is a matter of whether or not XANA can gain a new foothold within the Lyoko program, thus giving him greater power in the real world.” Jeremy pauses for a moment. “And, uh, Yumi and Ulrich already took care of the krabs guarding the entrance earlier....so there’s that.”

“I knew there had to be a gatekeeper!” Sam yelled triumphantly as she trekked further in. Hard, angular edges formed from what looked like polished stone walls guided her deeper and deeper into the otherworldly building. “So, speaking of mobs, what kind of weapons do I have?”

Jeremy audibly pressed a few buttons on his end and Sam could hear the sound of metal clinking together on her belt. “Like I was saying, I didn’t have much time to code anything too fancy. These digital shurikins should help if you encounter any ranged enemies and this-“ A weight suddenly appeared on her back. “-Is a copy of one of Ulrich’s katanas. I’d suppose you know how to use these?”

“Of course.” Sam chirped. “Sharp end towards the bad guys, then throw and stab, right?” On the other end, Jeremy groaned uncertainly. “Kidding, kidding. I think I can make these work. Now, what about this thing?” She motioned towards the metal gauntlet that encased her right forearm.

“In addition to being armor, it acts the as the containment module for the bad data I need you to inject. Once you engage the enemy, all you have to do is get within striking distance with the gauntlet and then-“

“Uh, Jeremy? I think the enemy’s already here.” After turning a particularly sharp corner, the narrow hallway Sam had been traveling down opened up into a room with high ceilings and expansive flooring. Towards the center, Odd pushed a very weary looking Aelita out of the way of a hornet’s well placed laser blast.

“Get behind me, Princess, these bozos are stronger than they look!” He fire a quick barrage of laser arrows towards the trio hornets, but their impressive speed allowed them to easily dodge each blast.

“No, Odd! Here!” Aelita kneeled down and bowed her head. Within a moment, a rock-like structure the same color as the rocks from the Mountain Sector appeared overhead. It shielded them from the hornet’s blasts, but shuddered with each and everything strike.

Within Sam’s ear, Jeremy voice came to life. “Aelita can’t maintain that barrier forever. And once it breaks, they’ll be totally defenseless. It’s up to you now.” Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Sam removed one of the shurikins from her belt. As the hornets were completely focused on breaking Aelita’s barrier, they all but ignored Sam as she quietly slipped closer towards the enemy.

Angling her shot towards the wall, Sam let one of her bladed weapons fly. The shurikin gained speed as it bounced off the wall and hit it’s mark on the broad side of one of the hornets. The virtual insect fell to the ground, dazed from the sudden damage it had taken.

“Now! Sam!” Jeremy leaned forward in his seat, eyes glued to the screen.

“Already on it, Pointdexter!” She ran forward and, with a small leap, descended upon the hornet. “Slow!” Out of the wrist of her gauntlet popped two bladed prongs, that soon became buried deep into the hornet’s body. It shuddered for a moment as it’s virtual body was pumped full of problematic data manufactured by Jeremy. Sam pulled the prongs out of the hornet’s body and threw up a hand to cover her face as the creature exploded.

Above her, the other hornets shuddered and jerked midflight before falling to the ground. “You’ve done it! The hornets are down for the count, and the rest of the construct’s data steam has been disrupted too.” A few keystrokes pass. “And Ulrich and Yumi are being devirtualized now!”

“So, now what? Do we keep going further in or...?”

“No way. Everyone’s life points are way too low, not to mention you and I are going to have some explaining to do to the others.” Sam nodded her head as Jeremy’s voice left her ear. Before she could ask anymore questions, Odd practically slammed into her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked Sam straight up into the air.

“Sam! You were so cool! You were like ‘pew’, ‘shing’, ‘stab’, ‘jab’, and then you-“ Sam groaned out-loud.

“Dude, cool it! You’re gonna strangle me to death after I literally just saved your life! Put me down!” Odd loosened his near death grip around his girlfriend and slowly lowered her to the ground. He gave a sheepish laugh. Beside him, Aelita giggled at his bashfulness in front of Sam.

“Right, sorry. For real, how did you get here? Did Einstein call you or something?”

“Not exactly. I, kinda-sorta, followed you here from our date. Then when I saw you guys needed help, I had Jeremy virtualize me.” Sam looked Odd up and down for a moment. “Why...Why are you a cat boy?”

Aelita put a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing, but failed to contain her amusement as tiny snickers slipped past. “Yeah, Odd. What is with the cat get-up?”

Odd’s cheeks flushed with color. “W-Well, it’s kind of a long story. I sorta showed up here like this the first time and since then I’ve just learned to roll with it. But what about you? You look awesome!” His eyes ran over the black jumpsuit with satisfying white lines going down the lengths of her covered arms and legs, accented by an indigo crop top overlaying the outfit.

“Jeremy told me he was using Yumi and Aelita’s outfits as a basis for mine, but most of it was generated automatically when I first got here, I guess.” Sam looked at Aelita and her gaze was instantly drawn to her point eyes and face markings. “I guess between you two, I’m kinda the odd one out. No cats ears, no elf ears, just plain ol’ human ones.”

“Hey, you guys.” Jeremy spoke to all of them through his computer’s microphone. “As much as I’d love to continue this conversation on fashion, we really should get you three back home. Ulrich and Yumi are already here, so I’ll start the devirtualization process. You first, Aelita.”

As Aelita began to disappear into unraveling strands of code, Odd put a hand on the back of his neck. “Sam, I’m sorry you had to find out this way about what I’m always doing with my friends. I wanted to tell you, and I didn’t like lying to you, but trying to explain all this to you always just seemed so...impossible.”

“Odd, if you had told me about all of this, I probably would have thought your brains had finally melted out of your ears from playing so many video games. I’m not angry or anything, more like amazed really. I almost still can’t believe anything like this even exists. I’m glad you’re safe though. Aelita and the others too, of course.” She kicks the ground with her shoe. “So, uh, does this mean I’m like part of the team now or what?”

Odd shrugged his shoulders. “If you want to be. I’m sure the others would agree that you’ve already more than proven yourself, but there’s still a lot we would need to talk about first. What Lyoko is, what we’re fighting, where Aelita really comes from...”

“I knew she wasn’t from Canada!” Sam yelled, before laughter overtook both her and Odd.

“It was the best we could come up with on such short notice. You’re telling me people from Canada don’t naturally have pink hair?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure nobody from anywhere is a natural pink, dork.” Sam flicks his nose with her index finger as the devirtualization process begins to take her. “I’ll see you back topside, alright?”

Odd nodded. “Yeah, see you back in the factory, dork-kisser.”

[nightfallrevel]

Strawberry and Cream

A/N: This piece was written for the BnHarem discord server collaboration. The theme was Pen Pal and it was seriously fun to write! It’s my longest piece, yet! Don’t come at me about the title, lol, it’s like that for a reason and you’ll see why.

To see the other fics in the collaboration, you can find them here!

While this collaboration was NSFW, the way that I have written it will allow for my readers who don’t want to read NSFW to still enjoy it without reading the smut. It’s completely SFW up until the fic reads “One year later”. This fic is complete before this line and the smut is just an added bonus for those who want to read it. So, please, enjoy!

Warnings: smut at the very end, face riding, blow job, penetrative sex

Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Words: 7,377

During their third year at U.A., the school thought it would be a good idea to come up with a program to help keep their students connected as they became more individually involved in their work studies. The idea was for future pros to build stronger bonds with their peers anonymously to give them a strong stepping stone to dealing more easily with civilians. 

There was, of course, nothing in place that said students couldn’t meet with their anonymous contacts, but the administrators highly recommended that the students wait at least a month before revealing their identities. The program was assigning interested parties a “pen pal”, and it seemed that it was a fairly popular concept, especially within Class 1-A.

The first day of the program, Mr. Aizawa showed up to the class with a sizable box under his arm. Setting it on his desk at the front of the class, he addressed all of you as he held a piece of paper with instructions. “For those of you participating in the ‘Pen Pal Program’, you will each be given a cell phone with one phone number pre-added to the contacts. That phone number will be your anonymous pen pal. This is completely randomized as there was no record taken of which phones were given which numbers. Also, there were no names assigned to any of the phones as you will be choosing your own from the box given to your homeroom teacher.” Mr. Aizawa patted the box and stared down each and every one of his students. “You all signed up to participate, so come up one at a time, alphabetically, to get your phone.”

You bounced in your seat as your classmates got excited around you and started to claim their own phones. You wondered who would end up being your pen pal and if you would have anything in common with them. Would they be in the hero class, too? Maybe someone from the support classes? The entire class was buzzing as everyone sat with their newly acquired phones.

Before anyone could get too excited, Mr. Aizawa addressed everyone once more. “Oh, yeah, the school administrators would like to remind everyone that this is supposed to be an anonymous program. Obviously, they can’t stop you from revealing yourselves, but they highly advise that you try to remain as such for at least the first thirty days. I’ll give you guys some time with the phones, otherwise you’ll never concentrate on your studies.” In the next moment, Mr. Aizawa was zipping himself up in his sleeping bag.

Your heart pounded as you stared down at the phone you’d picked up and held down the power button. The screen lit up as it booted up. Luckily it was a smart phone, though it was obviously a lower grade version. Not that you were exactly complaining as you watched the phone connect automatically to the school’s wi-fi.

A bout of nerves gripped you as you stared at the soft blue screen, wondering if you should be the first to message or if you should wait for the other person to message you. Before you could chicken out completely, you opened up a new text and sent a quick- 

“Hi!!”

At the same time your message was sent, you received an incoming message. 

“Hello.”

You inhaled sharply with excitement, a wide grin stretching across your face, and you quickly started to type your next text.

“I really want to introduce myself, but we’re supposed to stay anonymous. Does that bother you? Personally, I find it pretty exciting! I guess I’ll just start with something simple? I’m female, in the hero course, and… I would tell you which year I’m in, but that might be too much and make it easier to guess who I am!

If you’d like, you can call me ‘Strawberry’? I really love them and I think it would be a cute nickname. 😊"

You held your breath, almost immediately seeing three waving dots that indicated they were texting back. By the time that the reply popped up, you were smiling like a complete idiot.

“Male. Also in the hero course.

‘Strawberry?’ I like it. I agree, it’s cute. I guess... you can call me ‘Cream’, then?”

Your mouth fell open at the nickname that your male pen pal had suggested, stunned for a moment. Was he serious? That was what he wanted to go with?

“Uh, don’t you think that maybe you should go with something a bit more… appropriate? For your nickname? I mean, Cream is just… well, you know…”

The reply that came back nearly had you doubling over with laughter. This guy was serious!

“I’m not sure what you mean. I just thought Cream would be good because we were paired together and strawberries and cream is my favorite flavor for sweets. If you don’t like it, I suppose I could change it...”

Your classmates looked up as you laughed, suddenly curious about who your pen pal could be that they were so funny. You waved them all off, not wanting to risk finding out who it was. You stared down at the text, a warmth settling in your chest. Whoever this guy was, he was innocently cute and it made you feel glad. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about him making dirty jokes every thirty seconds- not that you didn’t take almost everything into the gutter with you. For this program, however, you felt a desire to keep your interaction friendly and light. Your fingers moved quick and light over the phone keyboard as you sent him your reply.

“No! I like ‘Cream’! When you put it that way, it’s absolutely perfect~”

The rest of the day was spent messaging each other and sharing little bits about yourselves with the other whenever you had a chance. You both strayed away from anything too specific. You talked about your families; how many siblings you each had, if you still had both parents, and other small details about life at home.

Cream was actually a rather interesting person, and you soon picked up on his texting habits. Sometimes his replies ranged from one to three words, or sometimes they were quite lengthy, and there was no in between. Strangely, it didn’t even bother you. You could only hope that the two of you wouldn’t run out of things to talk about and fall silent to each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A month passed and you definitely had plenty to talk about. You often spoke on your respective days and disagreements with friends. Whenever you felt something particularly strongly, you shared it with him. He was always receptive. 

If you were happy, he was glad for you. If you were sad, he’d let you pour your heart out and offer words of consolation. If you were mad, he’d let you vent until you calmed down and offer his support or give you another way to look at what had upset you.

Cream was not as forthcoming with his emotions as you were. He tried, you could tell that much, but it wasn’t often that he shared his feelings. When he did, however, he was always quite passionate about it and let you know exactly where he stood. You weren’t sure if he just wasn’t good at expressing himself or if he mostly closed himself off. You hoped that it was the former.

After having texted and sharing so much with each other for so long, the information you shared with him became more and more personal. You were sure you could tell him anything. One evening, however, you found yourself in an argument with him and couldn’t believe how unreasonable he was being. 

Throwing the phone on your bed out of anger, you stormed from your room and headed for the kitchen. There was no sense in continuing the conversation when you were so upset. You didn’t want to say anything you’d regret, after all. Despite being currently angry with Cream, you did still enjoy your conversations with him.

Once you were in the kitchen, you beelined for the fridge and brought out a single sized carton of strawberry milk before slamming the door shut. Opening up the attached straw, you jammed it into the hole and started drinking.

“Is something upsetting you, Y/L/N?” The voice of one of your classmates had you almost shrieking, but you inhaled your milk instead and fell into a coughing fit as you choked on the sweet liquid. Hands were immediately on you, taking your milk away before lifting your hands over your head.

As you sucked in a harsh breath, your watery eyes fell on the face of none other than Todoroki Shouto. You tried to give him a sheepish grin before you went into another fit of coughing, your lungs trying to expel the liquid they had breathed in. Todoroki gave you a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Just keep your hands over your head until you stop coughing.” The most you could do was flush hotly and nod.

A couple of tears streaked down your face as you tried not to stare at the guy currently grasping your wrists and holding your hands over your head. Just like the other girls in your class, you found Todoroki to be extremely attractive. For you, though, it wasn’t just his looks. You admired his drive and focus, his kindness towards everyone, and his openness in trying to look at things from others’ point of view.

It was a long moment before you realized that you weren’t coughing anymore, but Todoroki was still holding your wrists. You cleared your throat a little, your face feeling even warmer as he peeked up at him. He was watching you closely, though it was probably just to make sure you were okay. “Um, Todoroki, you can let go, now. I’m okay. Thank you.” His eyes widened slightly and he released you, his fingers brushing the tears from your cheeks before stepping away.

“My apologies. I wanted to be sure.” He offered you a small smile before moving past you to the fridge. “You seemed upset before. Are you okay?” It wasn’t strange that he would ask you about it. Being in the same class, the two of you were often paired together and worked really well together as a team. You often sat with him, Deku, Iida, and Uraraka during lunch, too. You definitely considered him a friend.

Returning his smile, you picked your milk back up and gave an experimental sip. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sort of.” Your smile turned rueful as he raised a brow at you while pulling out leftover soba noodles. “Pen pal trouble, I guess. We… got into an argument.” You scrunched up your nose as you took a seat at the kitchen island. “Pen pal? Maybe ‘text’ pal would fit him better?” You giggled a little. Todoroki sat next to you with his noodles, popping off the top of the container. He nodded slowly as he listened.

“So, it’s boy problems, then?” Your face flushed brightly. While your pen pal was certainly male, you’d hardly classify it as ‘boy problems’. It wasn’t as though you were dating him or had a crush on him. You… didn’t have a crush on him, did you? You tried not to think about having a crush on someone you’d never even met in person.

“T-Todoroki, it’s not like that! ‘Boy problems’ don’t apply to this situation.” You knew about Todoroki’s misunderstanding of basic social concepts from time to time, and always did your best to explain things when you could. He really was too adorable, sometimes. “I’ll explain it later, but that’s not what’s going on here.”

He slurped up some of his noodles as he stared at you, chewing slowly before swallowing. You couldn’t help but notice the way his neck moved as he did, following the line of his shoulder to his strong biceps. A shiver ran up your spine as you imagined those arms surrounding you. “Anything I can help with, then?”

You snapped out of your daze, flushing brightly at being caught lost in thought. A bright smile flashed across your face as you shook your head. “Nah. I’ll work it out with him. I just needed a minute to cool my head before I made an idiot of myself.” You glanced away. “I can have a tendency to say things that I don’t mean when I’m angry.” He smiled at your words, his eyes lighting up.

“That’s good that you know that about yourself. I’m sure that’s helped in a lot of situations.” Your eyes met his and you felt your heart leap.

“Yeah, it really has.” You took another sip from your milk before speaking, again. “You signed up for the program, too, right? How have you been getting along with your partner?” His eyes darkened slightly at your question for a slight moment before going back to neutral.

You watched him as his hand slipped into his pocket and he pulled out the school-issued phone for the program. “Yes, I did. My partner is very nice. She’s interesting. I think… I may have said something to her that I shouldn’t have, or maybe in the wrong way. I’m not really sure, though.” His brow furrowed and you felt your heart sink just a little. His ‘text’ pal was a girl, then.

Shaking your head free of the thought, you offered Todoroki a sympathetic smile and a pat on the arm. “If you’d like, maybe I could help you fix it? What did you say?” The heterochromatic boy fixed his gaze on you and shook his head politely.

“No, I think I might take a page from your book and just talk it out with her.” Picking up the phone, he slipped it back into his pocket and started cleaning up from his snack. You gave a shrug and drank the last of your milk.

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” You tossed the milk carton in the recycling. “See ya later, Todoroki!” He smiled and gave you a wave as you left the kitchen and headed back to your room. You felt better now that you’d spoken to Todoroki and were ready to try mending things with Cream.

When you picked up the phone, however, there was already an apology and you quickly responded to work things out. By the end of the night, the two of you had completely made amends and were speaking normally again as though the argument had never happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several more weeks passed and you found yourself looking forward to your evening chats with Cream. Your conversations had lessened as your studies had increased, the only time you could find to chat were now at night just before bed. You wished you had more time in your day, but hero work was nearly all-consuming.

Cream had become an important part of your life, though. You felt closer to him than even your friends in class. You were even sure that you were falling in love with him. It was an odd sensation to feel such a close attachment to someone you’d never met face to face. However, you couldn’t deny the beating of your heart or the flutter in your stomach each time you received a text from him.

Even as you felt yourself developing a strong bond with Cream, you also noticed how much closer you were getting with Todoroki. You found yourself confused and unsure of what to do. Two boys and you weren’t sure where to turn more of your attention.

Todoroki went on frequent morning runs and usually you went with him. He had invited you to go with him one morning at the beginning of the school term and it had turned into a regular thing. As you prepared yourself to join him one morning, you found yourself wondering about how he was doing with his own text pal.

You struck up the conversation as the two of you jogged at an even pace. “Todoroki, did you ever work things out with your text pal? I never did ask you.” He glanced over at you briefly and gave a shrug.

“Yes, we talked it out. Things have been fine since then. What about you? You seemed pretty upset back then about yours.” You copied his shrug, but you weren’t able to stop the smile that spread across your lips.

“Yeah, we were able to recover. I think that we’re actually doing better, now.” You were quiet for a moment, contemplating. You didn’t want to push Todoroki, just in case, but you wanted to gauge his thoughts and, possibly his feelings, towards you.

Todoroki was patient and waited quietly while you decided on your next words. You were distracted a moment, though, when he took a slight lead on you and you were able to glance over every inch of his muscled arms and legs. Needless to say, your imagination took off in a million wild directions. The light sheen of sweat on his skin made you want to lick it off-

“Y/L/N?”

Todoroki’s voice brought you back to reality and you shook your head, smiling a bit sheepishly. “Sorry. I was just thinking.” You blushed as you covered up your true thoughts with your more innocent ones. “I just was wondering what you thought?” He gave you a reassuring smile, though his focus remained on where he was going. “Do you think… it’s possible to fall in love with someone you’ve never met?” Your voice had dropped to nearly a whisper, but Todoroki had definitely heard you as his head snapped around to face you, his eyes widening.

Your eyes mimicked his as you started to panic. Had you said something wrong? Todoroki stopped running and you skidded to a halt a few steps ahead of him and turned back. His brows had furrowed in contemplation and his eyes had darkened somewhat. You could tell that your question had more of an impact than what you’d intended.

As you approached him, his eyes lifted to yours and seemed to be searching. You would have given every possession you had to know what he was looking for. “I’m surprised you asked me something like that. I can’t say I’ve ever given it much thought. Maybe Mina or Tsu would be able to provide better advice?” Your gaze softened and your body eased as you understood. “Maybe it is, though.” Your blood ran cold.

What did he mean by that? Was he talking about his own text pal? Had he fallen in love with her and just not realized it? And you had held his hand and led him straight to the conclusion. You did your best to smile. “Maybe.” You halfheartedly agreed before turning from him to continue the run. You soon heard his steps following behind you. The rest of the run was quiet between you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finals were approaching and everyone was busier than ever. You found that you had started to tiptoe around Todoroki while your relationship with Cream had taken off. The two of you had decided that it was finally time to meet and reveal yourselves to each other. The date was set for the day after final exams to avoid being too much of a distraction for each other.

You were constantly smiling and humming to yourself and your friends noticed. After they’d spent countless nights badgering you, you finally confessed that you’d be meeting your text pal. They barraged you with questions, wanting to know who he was. You still didn’t know, though, as you had both decided to keep the anonymity until the actual meeting.

The day after finals couldn’t arrive any faster and you were bouncing around your room as Mina helped you pick out the perfect outfit. In the commons, the other girls fawned over how great you looked and wished you luck on meeting your text pal. You barely caught sight of Todoroki staring at you from the couch. Was he blushing? If he was, it was only a little bit.

Feeling that you had ruined your chances with Todoroki, you didn’t dwell on it and headed out of the commons. The location the two of you had selected was a small ice cream shop just on the edge of the city near campus. It was a pretty popular spot and it was pretty busy. Luckily, you were able to place your order of strawberry ice cream and find a table close to the street on the outdoor patio.

Fishing out our phone, you sent Cream a quick text that you were at the shop and seated outside. You waited for a reply, but one didn’t come in right away. Not at all worried, you set the phone on the table and started eating your ice cream. Your nerves were twisting your insides, equally nervous and excited.

It wasn’t until you were halfway through your ice cream that you finally received a text. It was an apology. He wasn’t coming. Your heart sank as you read his excuse. Apparently, his agency that he was interning with had called him in for an emergency. Hope fluttered in your chest, however, as he offered to meet you the following day, instead.

You almost laughed as he asked if they could meet at the same place. Cream was disappointed that he had missed out on the ice cream. With a grin, you took a picture of your mostly eaten treat and sent it to him.

“Definitely could have used some help eating it!”

His reply was almost immediate.

“Are you sure? Looks like you’re making enough progress on your own. :P”

A grin lifted your lips at his cheeky comment.

“Yes, I’m sure! See you tomorrow, then? I’ll make sure to grab two spoons.”

“Yes. Tomorrow. I look forward to it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day arrived and you again headed to the ice cream shop. You managed to dodge your friends to avoid any prying questions. You didn’t want to admit that the previous day hadn’t worked out. Even if he had a perfectly good excuse.

However, as you waited, you gradually got a sinking feeling. Sure enough, a text came in and disappointment gripped you as he announced that he would not make it, once again.

“My father, this time. I’m sorry. I told you about him, so you know how he is. Usually, I ignore him, but this was unavoidable, unfortunately. Intern related. I’ve been scouted at several agencies and he wants to go over all of my options.”

It was true that Cream had painted his father in a less than pleasing light and you understood why Cream had to give his internship priority. It didn’t make you hurt any less, though.

“Okay. I understand. Tomorrow, then?”

It was a couple of minutes before there was a response.

“Actually, I won’t be free again for another two days after tomorrow. Instead of ice cream, why don’t I take you somewhere nice to make up for it? Maybe that one restaurant that you mentioned was your favorite?”

You blinked at the message, unsure of how to respond. You didn’t feel any better about being stood up, again, and the restaurant he was offering to take you to was a pretty pricey one. Sighing heavily, you messaged back.

“No. Ice cream is fine. I’ll meet you on that day, then.”

You didn’t wait for his response, this time, as you left the shop and headed back to the dorms. Your feet felt heavy and your heart was sporting a decent sized crack in it. Mina noticed how down you looked and tried to cheer you up, seeming to sense not to bring up the meeting with Cream. Along with a couple of the other girls, Mina took you up to her room where the group of you could watch movies and talk about nonsense and hero work.

The distractions were nice, keeping you from dwelling too much on Cream and how he had left you hanging a second time. You didn’t want to think about the doubt that was slowly growing in your heart or whether Cream really wanted to meet you or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Todoroki put his school-issued phone in his pocket with a deep frown. He really hated that he had to cancel on his text pal a second time. It ate him up inside to imagine what she must think of him. Strawberry was the best thing that could have happened to him.

After failing to secure a connection with you, Strawberry had been there to fill the void. She was so much more than someone just filling a void, though. It had taken you asking about the possibility of falling in love with someone without meeting them that brought it to his attention. He wasn’t sure, however, until recently.

It was possible. Very possible, in fact, and he was so sure that he had fallen in love with Strawberry. She was easy to talk to, kind, and never ran away from their arguments. She always faced any problems they had head on and was usually the first to offer solutions and never pointed fingers. 

Todoroki really respected the way she never demanded an apology, either, giving him the time and space to do it on his own. Strawberry was often the first to apologize, though. Given his past, it usually took him more time to come to the conclusion that he may have been insensitive or said something that could have been easily misconstrued. She never held a grudge and was quick to forgive him every time.

The warmth he felt whenever he texted her was incomparable, and how was he repaying her? By standing her up on the most important part of their relationship and meeting face to face. He could only hope that she would forgive him for this, too.

The next few days seemed to drag by. Todoroki wanted nothing more than to meet you and he was feeling anxious. He practically ran towards the ice cream shop, only to realize that he’d missed his turn a few blocks too late. As he turned around to correct himself, there was a spray of glass beside him and something collided hard with his body, knocking him to the ground.

Recovering quickly, Todoroki realized that a villain had run into him after just robbing the jewelry store he was passing. As an upcoming hero, Todoroki couldn’t ignore the situation and immediately took matters into his own hands. 

There were three robbers in total and Todoroki single-handedly apprehended them all, then called the police. As he waited for them to arrive, he remembered his date with Strawberry and pulled out his phone. Dismay filled the pit of his stomach when he saw that it had been smashed. He silently prayed that Strawberry would still be at the ice cream shop by the time he finished with the police.

The police made Todoroki come into the station to file an official report after questioning him. It took well over an hour to file the report and Todoroki bolted from the police station at a dead run towards where he hoped she was still waiting. It was three hours past the time he’d agreed to meet with her and he doubted that she would have waited so long after being stood up twice, but he couldn’t help keeping that small light of hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week had passed since you had been stood up a third time by Cream. This time without even a single text. You had sent several to him without even one reply the entire week. It was two days before graduation and you were supposed to return the phone within the next twenty-four hours.

You sat alone on the couch in the commons, hugging your knees to your chest as you stared at the silent phone on the coffee table. Had it all been a facade? Had Cream pretended to want to meet you the whole time? Tears welled in your eyes until they spilled over and you buried your face in your arms. You were thankful no one else was around to witness your embarrassing display.

“Y/L/N?”

Your head jerked up and you quickly swiped away your tears as your gaze was drawn to who had spoken your name. It was Todoroki and you offered him the best smile you could, which wasn’t very much. Alarm took over his features as he realized you were crying and he immediately joined you on the couch. “What’s wrong? Should I get some tissues?” Your smile warmed at his concern and you sniffled as you shook your head.

“No, you don’t have to do that.” Reaching forward, you picked up the phone from the coffee table. “It’s just that I never got to meet my text pal and… I think he only agreed to meet me, but never wanted to. He kept coming up with excuses, and now he won’t even message me at all. It’s been a week and the phone has to be returned tomorrow.” Your voice cracked at the end and a few stray tears escaped the corner of your eyes.

Todoroki frowned, not really sure what to say. His heart was aching over his predicament with his own text pal. He’d tried to get a replacement phone, but since the program was entirely random, the administrators had no way of knowing which number he’d been assigned. He’d been at a total loss. He couldn’t ignore your tears, though.

His hands found your face and he gently wiped away your tears. You were his friend, even if you had drifted apart lately. Your wide eyes met his gaze and he gave you a gentle smile. “I wish there was something I could do to help, but we both know I’m not great at social interactions.” You blinked at him, your eyebrows furrowing.

You sniffled and wiped your nose with your sleeve. “Todoroki, what are you talking about? You’ve really grown over this past year. I think you’re really great in social situations, now.” You smiled back at him, much warmer than before. Lifting your hand, you offered him the school phone. “Maybe you could look at the messages and tell me what you think? Did he ever want to meet me, at all?” Todoroki’s eyes grew wide as you unlocked the phone and pressed it into his hand.

You had placed your trust in him and he couldn’t turn you down. Not when you smiled at him like that. Even though he knew that you weren’t being completely honest about his advancements in social settings, he couldn’t refuse you. Despite himself, he looked down at the phone and opened up the messages. He frowned as he saw several messages that you’d sent that had no reply and immediately scrolled up to older texts.

Todoroki’s hands shook as he immediately recognized the messages. He took his time in reading every single message that you’d sent since his phone had broken. They ranged from angry to hurt and back to angry, again. You had turned your face from him as he looked through the texts and he stared at you for a very long time before he could speak.

You were Strawberry and you’d been right in front of him the entire time. How had he not seen it? He should have noticed right away considering you’d held his attention for far longer than the pen pal program. If he could have asked for anyone to be Strawberry, he would have picked you. Words could not describe just how happy he was to have found you.

Leaning forward, he set the phone down on the coffee table and turned his body towards you. “I wanted to meet you more than anything. I never wanted you to feel like you were being played with, or to make you cry like this. My phone broke, though, and there was no way to get a new one-” Your gaze snapped back to him, confusion coloring your features.

“What are you saying, Todoroki?” Your gaze held his and he reached out to you. You didn’t move away, but you didn’t lean towards it, either. Your heart kicked into high speed as you watched the emotions that filled Todoroki’s hetero-chromatic eyes. Was he trying to make you feel better by pretending to be your missing pen pal, or could he actually be…

“I’m Cream, and you’re Strawberry.” Todoroki smiled. “Because you picked Strawberry first, so I picked Cream for my favorite sweet.” A slight frown muddled his features. “Although, I’m still uncertain why you tried to get me to pick something different…”

Relief and happiness spread throughout your body as he recounted your very first conversation. Your limbs moved before you gave it much thought, your arms wrapping around Todoroki’s neck as you embraced him tightly. His arms took barely a second before they were wrapping around you, too. “I promise I’ll explain everything, Y/N, if you’ll let me? You aren’t too mad at me, are you?”

You sniffled as fresh, happy tears slid down your cheeks. “Only a little bit, but I’m mostly just really glad that it was you all along.” A shaky laugh left you as your hold on him tightened and he did the same. “I had the biggest crush on you for the longest time.”

Todoroki felt his face flush at your confession, his heart rate picking up speed. “And now?” He hesitantly asked you.

Very slowly, you loosened your grip on him and pulled back just enough that you could look him in the eyes. You felt heat rise to your face as you blushed brightly. “Now? Even before I knew that it was you, I… I’m in love with you, Todoroki Shouto.”

A rush of relief overtook him and his mouth was suddenly covering yours in a heated kiss. You gasped in surprise, immediately feeling his tongue invade your mouth. As he explored your mouth, a small groan escaped you and he held you even tighter. You were consumed by him.

Todoroki was thrilled to have you in his arms. He’d thought that he lost his chance to make a connection with you, but he’d been getting to know you all along. He had allowed his heart to shift from you to Strawberry after your last run with him, thinking that you loved someone else. Was it destiny that you were Strawberry all along?

He didn’t care. He had you and that was all that mattered to him. Never had he wanted to kiss someone as much as he’d wanted to kiss you. He would have been content to do so for the rest of the night until the front doors to the dorm suddenly opened and the two of you wrenched apart.

A fierce blush overtook your features as the rest of Class 1-A returned. A few of them that had come in first paused at the door to stare at the two of you. Mina was first to break the silence. “Oh, thank whatever gods exist! You two finally got together! The tension was killing me!” 

As your other classmates laughed in good nature, you covered your face and a pleased flush colored Todoroki’s cheeks as he smiled. Your classmates huddled around the two of you to tease and congratulate you, milling about as all of you eased into conversations about what you’d all be doing after graduation.

It was two more days until graduation, and your high school lives would be ending. However, for you and Todoroki, things were only just beginning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One year later…

Strong, but gentle hands gripped your hips as they tried to pull you back to bed. You giggled as you let them, turning around to face your lover. “Shouto, I’m hungry…” You mock whined, not really complaining that he wanted to pull you in for another kiss.

You attempted to pull away, again, but he wouldn’t let you. A grin spread across his face as he tugged you back into bed and settled you over his body. “Maybe I wanted to eat you for breakfast?” You gave a breathy laugh that quickly transformed into a moan as his left hand found your slick folds where you straddled his waist.

His cold fingers had you whimpering and he knows well enough by now to know exactly what you want. His hands gripped your thighs as he helped ease you up his body until you were straddling his face, a mischievous smirk on his lips. A shiver passed through your body, feeling the contrast in temperatures on each of your thighs. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

A high-pitched keen fell from your lips at Shouto’s warm tongue slipped between your folds and slid along the length of your slit until he found your clit. Your thighs clamped around his head, your hands flying to grip his hair as he sucked your clit into his mouth. His hands moved around to grip your ass, holding you in place as he teased you, his tongue suddenly turning cold.

You gasped at the temperature change, eliciting a moan from you when his tongue dipped down to your entrance. His tongue flashed between hot and cold as it explored within your tight inner walls, seeking the spot that he knew would have you seeing stars. You panted heavily as your fingers tightened in his hair, barely keeping up with the changing temperatures that left you shaking in his hold.

Shouto brought a hand around your hip, slipping between your legs to press his thumb against your clit. It wasn’t until you felt a searing heat that you realized it was his right hand, your head falling back on lewd moan. You ground your hips against his face as his tongue inside you went cold, needing more of his contrasting temperatures. 

The tightened cord finally snapped when he switched hands on your clit, the temperatures between his thumb and his tongue suddenly switching making you orgasm hard. You cried out and reached for the headboard to help keep yourself upright as you rode out your orgasm, still grinding against his face. “Sh-Shouto…” You moaned his name as his hands gripped your thighs, again, and he slowly lapped up your release.

Your hips jerked as his tongue ran along your sensitive folds and you whimpered softly. Letting you lift yourself, Shouto smiled up at you and licked his lips. “You taste like strawberries and cream, Y/N.” Your face flushed, as it did every time he said that. He made the same comment every time he ate you out. Even though you were sure that you definitely didn’t taste like strawberries and cream, it made you smile as it reminded you of how the two of you got together. 

Shouto wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he watched you climb down his body until you were nestled between his legs. His eyes blazed with heat as you took his hard cock into your hand and gave him the same smirk he’d given you before eating you out. Your tongue darted out to capture the leaking pre-cum from his slit, making him hiss with pleasure.

Not wanting to tease him too much, you closed your mouth over his swollen head and sucked hard. Hips jerked as he groaned, his fingers threading into your hair and gripping tightly. You slowly sucked in his length, your tongue gliding over each prominent vein along his girth. A low string of curses escaped Shouto as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and you swallowed him down until his pubes tickled your nose.

His grip on your hair tightened until tears pricked the corners of your eyes, holding you in place until you tapped his leg to indicate you needed air. With a deep moan, he loosened his hold and let you ease back so that you could breathe, again. Once you’d taken a deep gulp of air, you dove back in and filled your mouth with his length.

Shouto was always reduced to little more than a puddle whenever you went down on him. The pace your mouth set as you swallowed him down was perfect, making him a mess of moans. Just as he was getting close, the tension building in his groin, you reached a hand to cup his balls and massage them gently while your other hand stroked his length when your mouth wasn’t covering him.

A string of curses fell from Shouto’s lips and his grip on your hair pulled you down fully on his cock as his hips jerked, spilling his hot seed down your throat. You happily drank him down and waited patiently for his grip to ease on your hair so that you could pull off of him. The moment you lifted off, he was pulling you back up to him.

You grinned at him. “Hm. You taste just like strawberries and cream.” Shouto grinned at you as he held you to his chest and pressed sweet kisses to your lips. You returned each one, shivering as his hands caressed over your skin. He wasn’t done with you.

You squealed with delight as he suddenly flipped you onto your back and he smothered you with his body. His mouth covered yours with a passionate kiss, tongue slipping between your lips with ease. You moaned, feeling his thick cock pressing against your thigh, and lifted your hips off the bed as you tried to get more of him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull him closer, and he obliged.

Reaching between your bodies, Shouto angled himself until his tip teased against your entrance, making you mewl until he pressed himself fully inside you. You shared a moan with him at the sensation of him filling you so perfectly. Shouto had to take a deep breath to steady himself as he felt your inner walls fluttering around his cock. “So tight… Y/N…”

You lifted your legs and wrapped them around Shouto’s waist, urging him to move. “Shouto… please… ah~” Your pleading seemed to do the trick as he pulled back and snapped his hips forward to fill you, again. You cried out at his forcefulness, fingernails digging into his back as you held on for dear life. 

You did your best to meet the delicious and relentless pace that Shouto set, pleasure overriding your senses. His mouth closed over the juncture of your neck, his teeth latching onto your skin as he bit you. The added pain to your pleasure made you moan loudly, your head falling back against the pillows.

Shouto moaned as he released his teeth from your neck, feeling your walls clench tightly around his cock. His hips stuttered slightly as he felt himself near the edge. Reaching between your bodies with his right hand, his fingers found your clit and massaged sloppy circles over it to push you closer to your release.

It wasn’t long before he had you plummeting over the edge and your orgasm washed over you as you cried out his name. “Shouto!” A harsh curse fell from his lips as your walls quivered and clenched over his cock as though trying to milk him for his own orgasm. It worked as he found himself following your release, painting your insides white with thick ropes of his cum. 

His thrusts finally stilled when he had finished filling you with his seed. Panting heavily, your hands found Shouto’s face as you pulled him to you for a sweet kiss. He returned it, then proceeded to pepper more kisses over your face and neck as you both basked in the afterglow.

You smiled blissfully as you matched each of his kisses until his mouth found yours again. It was a long moment before he pulled back from you, sighing as he rested his face against your neck. “I love you, Strawberry.” Your smile warmed at the nickname as you held him close.

“I love you, too, Cream.”

[phantom-curve]

someday this will have a real title pt. 3

wow this one got away from me a lil bit. did I use it as an excuse to listen to Wake Up on repeat for an hour? yes. did I cry while writing it? yes. do with that information what you will. 

I really like how this is turning out. honestly, thinking of writing a companion piece from Luke’s POV once I finish Julie’s. also, I realized while writing this that Luke basically ‘poofs’ into Julie’s space every time he interacts with her even though he’s not a ghost and I love that consistency.

still have no idea how long this will be, so thanks for just going on this adventure with me!

tag list: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles (thank you! honestly, they’ve got such strong voices writing these characters is a delight. also, titles are hard), @bluefyoto94 (thank you!), @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​ lemme know if you want to be added!

The second the entrance of Los Feliz High School was in her sight, Julie was unbuckling her seatbelt, bolting out of the car in a mad dash to escape into the academic institution. Luke didn’t even have time to fully park the car before she had slipped out of it, her curly head disappearing into the mass of students surging through the front doors as the first bell began to ring. Social etiquette dictated that she wait around long enough to at least thank Luke for the ride, but honestly, social etiquette could suck a fat one. She had been dealing with fake social graces for the last year and frankly, she was sick of all of the bullshit. She didn’t feel particularly inclined to extend said graces to overconfident band boys intent on disrupting her carefully constructed routine.

For the last year Luke had been content to ignore her presence in the few classes they shared, perfectly happy basking in the glory of being an upperclassman with unprecedented musical talent. Luke knew exactly where he was going and how he was going to get there. He didn’t stop to wait for the school to hook him up with gigs, he went out and made the shows happen for his band himself. Julie had always admired his confidence, wished she could be more like him.

She hadn’t always loved the cockier side to his attitude though. He had a tendency to act like god’s gift to music and it drove her insane considering there were kids at this school that worked just as hard as him but wouldn’t ever make it quite as far. Not everyone could be born with that kind of talent, but that didn’t mean he had to rub other people’s faces in it! She should know, hadn’t she always been complimented on her musical ability before anything else? And now that she didn’t have that same gift to offer up to the masses, wasn’t she just another forgotten face in the crowd?

Head low, shoulders hunched against the onslaught of emotion, Julie pushed her way through the morning crowd of students. She didn’t look up until she knew her locker would be in front of her, and even then she only lifted her head long enough to bury it inside of the metal box, pretending she was searching for the schoolbooks already in her backpack.

“Hey, under achiever.”

The familiar voice was warm, the nickname affectionate instead of insulting. It pulled a reluctant smile from Julie as she turned to meet her best friend’s gentle gaze.

“Hey, disappointment.”

Flynn gave her a little hip bump and a sad smile. Oh. So, word had already spread around the school.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Julie hefted her backpack higher on her shoulder, one hand reaching to pull her hat low. Too late she recognized how her own actions almost mirrored Luke’s earlier. Flynn, best friend that she was, linked her arm through Julie’s and began to lead them down the hallway towards homeroom.

“Okay.”

Julie breathed a sigh of relief. Her best friend could be like a dog with a bone sometimes, unable to let any perceived injustice go without a fight. She was thankful she had avoided whatever rant Flynn had at the ready for the time being.

“But we’re gonna have to talk about it eventually, Jules. You can’t just let them kick you out! You’re Julie Molina! Voice of an angel! Queen of-!”

Or maybe not. Flynn’s declarations cut off immediately at the cold look Julie sent her way.

“Right, don’t wanna talk about it.”

Julie nodded fiercely, unmoved by Flynn’s disappointed sigh as she pulled out of her grasp and slipped into her desk. Flynn hadn’t lost her mom and her ability to play music all at once. Flynn didn’t have the entire school breathing down her neck. Flynn’s life wasn’t falling apart in front of her eyes. Flynn didn’t get to judge. Head down, Julie fought back the feelings of shame and guilt, focusing on her anger instead.

She made it through most of the day like that, relying solely on the fuel her fury provided to get her through her classes. Until her last two classes of the day. Composition and Solo Vocal Studies. Except, she wasn’t in those classes anymore. She had been dropped from them like the useless failure that she was. Her dad still didn’t know, so there hadn’t been a meeting with the school to change her schedule. But she couldn’t just go to a class she had been asked to leave. The final bell rang, and Julie was left by herself in the empty hallways. She glanced at the closed classroom doors around her, feeling small and lost. Suddenly, the red-hot rage that had sustained her all day was doused by an overwhelming wave of sadness. She was alone.

Unable to stomach the thought of losing it in the middle of the school, Julie sprinted for the nearest exit. Her surroundings were a blur until she practically slammed into the metal doors, crashing her way outside. She took a few steps before doubling over on her knees, gasping for breath. She squeezed her eyes shut, focused on nothing more than the air going in and out of her lungs. It was breezy, the warm wind blowing her hair around, the wayward curls tickling her face. The sensation helped to ground her, and she finally opened her eyes, the panic receding as she stood. The door creaked open behind her. Julie stiffened at the noise. The hair on the back of her neck felt electrified, and she didn’t have to hear him speak to know who it was. A throat cleared.

“You, um...you dropped this.”

She heard fabric rustling, the soft swoosh of what must be his arm lifting. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, the frustration she’d been thriving on all day creeping in at the edges. She clung to it like a lifeline as she turned to meet his puppy dog eyes.

“What, are you stalking me or something?!”

Her voice was hoarse, not as strong or snappy as she had intended. She balled her hands into tight fists at her sides, ready to verbally attack as she leaned forward waiting for him to respond. He didn’t say anything, eyes soft as he looked down to where his hand was outstretched holding...her hat. Her hands flew to her head, landing on hair instead of the trusty ballcap she had kept perched there for the last year. So that’s how her curls had gotten loose earlier. Heat rose again, burning its way up from her chest to her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She snatched it out of his hands, shoving it back on her head with more force than necessary.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing. You, uh, bolted outta there pretty quick. Everything okay?”

She watched him bob slightly, like he couldn’t stop moving for even a second. His voice was melodic, somehow everything he said sounding like he was on the verge of bursting into song. In another life, she probably would have been charmed by him. Not in this life though.

“Fine. Looks like I’m done with school for the day I guess.”

She practically sneered at him. Something about his gentle prodding scratched at her. Everyone knew she was a disaster. Everyone knew she was out of the music program, a washed up has been before she had been able to even make it in the first place. He didn’t need to use the kid gloves with her.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you usually have...”

He trailed off, eyes downcast, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. She glared, not even noticing that he somehow knew her schedule.

“Yeah. Usually. Not anymore. So.”

He rocked back on his heels, hands shoved in his jean pockets, arms flexing in an unfairly aggressive display of hotness. His eyes were still looking at her with that same gentle expression. Like he cared. Her fingertips itched and she realized with a start that she desperately wanted to grab her keyboard and pound out an angry ballad about this...this too nice fuckboy with a pretty face and she could see the notes forming now and she could practically feel the smooth chill of the keys under her fingers and...she staggered backwards.

What the hell was that?! Her heart raced, adrenaline spiking. Oh no. No no no. She couldn’t want to play for this dumb boy. She hadn’t been able to play for her dad or her brother. She hadn’t been able to play for Flynn, hadn’t been able to play for her mother. She couldn’t even play for herself! What kind of special magic did Luke freakingPatterson possess that made her want to play again? It wasn’t fair.

“I gotta go.”

She swerved around him, reaching for the school doors. They held fast, locked from the inside. Her shoulders slumped. Just her luck.

“Hey, Julie?”

She didn’t answer, but it didn’t stop him.

“I’m really sorry about your mom. She was an incredible songwriter. You are too.”

The last part was said quietly but Julie heard it anyway. She couldn’t help but scoff as she turned to face him again.  He stood perfectly still this time.

“How would you know that?”

His eyes, still so soft, crinkled a bit at the edges. Not a full smile, but she could tell he wanted to. Without breaking their stare down, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn, folded square of paper. Her gaze dipped, eyes widening. Her breath caught in her throat. It couldn’t be. He held it out to her.

“I found it last year. In the practice room. I know I should have given it to you earlier, but there was never a right time. I’m sorry.”

Julie’s vision swam. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she reached out to take the paper he offered.

“I thought...I tried to...”

“I know.”

His voice was the sweetest croon as his fingers closed around hers, tucking the sheet music safely into her palm.

“I went back the next day, but...it was gone.”

“I’m so sorry. God, I should have had Alex give it to Flynn or something.”

“No.” She locked her eyes on his once more. “It wasn’t the right time.”

He gave her a small smile, bouncing just a bit on the balls of his feet again. And then, as if understanding that she needed this moment to herself, he gave her a small nod and disappeared around the side of the building. Julie closed her eyes for a moment, clutching the papers to her chest.

Last year, in a fit of heartbroken rage and unable to express herself through music like she had for her entire life, Julie had locked herself in the practice room after school and thrown an all-out tantrum. She had screamed herself sick, cried until she couldn’t breathe, and in a final fit of uncontrollable emotion, trashed the last song that she had written with her mother, finished just days before she took her last breath. It had been satisfying in the moment. A vow to give up the part of herself that was made up of her mother, cut the pain off at the source so to speak. She had regretted it the instant she woke up the next morning, but it was too late. By the time she got to school, the first student on campus even, the practice room had already been cleaned. The hollowed out, empty feeling of loss that had followed had been gut wrenching. The realization that she had thrown the last connection to her mother in the trash left a gaping hole in her heart. It had been a fitting punishment that Julie had never even gotten to play the final product. A fitting punishment that she would never play anything again.

Luke had just changed all of that. He had given her that piece of her heart back. Fingers trembling, she unfolded the pages. She traced the looping letters of her mother’s familiar handwriting, following the notes up and down the bars, the melody playing in her head as she read. At the very end, a final message she had missed before:

Julie, you can do it.

Love, Mom

It felt like coming home. Pages clutched to her heart once more, Julie leaned against the building, lifted her face to the sky, and wept.

[knittingdreams]

Fireheart - Chapter 25

Sorry it took me so long to upload! I might have kind of forgotten my password and not logged in for weeks, oops! But I’m back! :D

Materlist / Ao3

Tiny tag list: @tillyrubes10 :) [Drop a comment if you want to be added]

I don't think any TW apply for this one, no more than my usual foul language that you should know by now!

New characters showing up!! This one was an exciting one to write! :D 

CHAPTER 25

Hacking triplets

“Sam, did you find what I asked for?”

“Well, hello, how are you doing? I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Sam’s witty reply came from the other side of the line.

“Cortland, come on, I have no time for your games, did you find me someone or not?”

Celaena typed on her laptop furiously while she listened to Sam on the cell, still trying to enter Dorian’s computer even if she knew all her attempts were futile.

“I did. I found a team. It’s all pretty secretive, I’m sending you a link, and you’ll just have to follow the instructions.”

“Thanks.”

Celaena hung up the phone and threw it onto the bed while she opened up her conversation with Sam on the computer screen. Right after returning from the masquerade with Dorian last weekend, she had tried to access his father’s computer to download the guest list, but to her surprise, she was out of the system.

She had gone into that computer so many times, that when she found herself out, she was confused at first. That confusion quickly turned into anger. Celaena attempted every trick she knew, and still, every time she tried to access the computer on the top floor, she was kicked out. It was as if someone was actively getting her out of it every single time. No matter how much Celaena knew about computers, she was no expert. She knew enough to get by, but there was nothing else she could do, and that infuriated her.

She hated to admit it, but she needed a real expert.

Not trusting Arobynn anymore after seeing him at the gala with whom she potentially thought could be her aunt, she was now on her own. She didn’t know any hackers in town that weren’t in some way tangled with Arobynn already, and that’s when she thought of asking Sam for help.

Adarlan Elite High was a big school, one full of rich people with lots of things to hide, lots of things to protect. She knew if Sam asked around, he’d be able to find someone. After all, Sam’s goal in the last two months had been getting to know everybody and making acquaintances. If he couldn’t be of help finding her a hacker, then what was the point of it all?

Finally opening up the link that Sam sent her, Celaena scratched her brow. The link seemed to download a ghost program onto her computer and then led her to a page with encrypted bank details. Sam had explained that the address of the place she had to go to wouldn’t be given to her until a deposit was made. Enough to cover a basic fee, and the rest of the payment would be done after the job was finished.

The prices were high, but Celaena couldn’t be worrying about money now, not if it meant she could get a real lead. For years, she had had the hunch that her aunt might have been involved with her parent’s accident somehow, but she had always tried to ignore those feelings, telling herself that Maeve had been the one to look after her every time her parents went over on business trips, the one to buy her presents for every birthday, and the one that had organized a beautiful ceremony after her parent’s death; one that she had only heard about from third parties and a lot of research.

She didn’t want to believe her own family would have betrayed her, but after looking into Dorian’s computer for weeks and weeks, she was almost certain his company had had nothing to do with the accident. And getting to know Dorian Jr. now, she had to admit he wasn’t half as bad as she had expected. 

Celaena got up from the bed and headed to her dresser after making the transfer. She pulled out her leather jacket, changed her shoes to her laced-up boots, and grabbed the bike’s helmet from the top of the night table.

It was time to go for a ride and find herself some hackers. 

Celaena rode the elevator to the basement and jumped on her bike, setting up the coordinates that were sent to her by transferring the link straight into her GPS system. The location seemed to be close to the docks, and not being overly surprised by it, she rode out. She left the crowded part of the city behind in no time, turning towards the cliffs on the outskirts. She was almost to the docks when the GPS made a beeping noise, and the coordinates changed all of a sudden, telling her to do a U-turn.

“Sweet trick,” she chuckled to herself.

She turned around at the end of the road, and followed back on her tracks, returning the way she came. Once she was almost into the city limits, she got this weird feeling in the back of her neck. Looking through the rearview mirror, she got a glimpse of a bike behind her, but when she looked back, it was gone. She drove fast for another five minutes, following the directions until she was about five blocks from her destination. She slowed down, and as soon she was two blocks away, the location changed again. She looked over her shoulder and got a glimpse of a shadow behind her.

It wasn’t too dark yet, the sun only just reaching the horizon, but the tall buildings on that side of the town made the roads dark enough for her to struggle to figure out if there was someone behind her, or if she was being overly paranoid.

The location changed place three more times before she finally got to the end of a quiet road, and the GPS signaled for her to go down an extremely narrow alley in between two buildings. She parked up on the street, jumped down, and put her helmet away in the compartment under the seat. Looking behind her once more, the road was deserted.

Maybe she was indeed paranoid, or maybe the hackers had someone trailing her to make sure she wasn’t being followed by anybody else. Every single hacker she knew was over-suspicious and certainly odd. 

Celaena walked all the way to the end of the alley, and a message arrived on her phone, indicating to knock three times on the metal door with a triangle drawn on it. There were three doors at the end, all the same except for the faint triangle scraped into the metal of the middle one. It was rough, and it could have been mistaken for senseless scrapings if she hadn’t been looking for the triangular shape. 

She knocked three times and waited.

The door creaked open an inch, and a pair of black eyes looked at her from the dim interior.

“Who’s this?”

“Deposit 45986, my reference is Fireheart,” Celaena replied, stating the number of her deposit and the name she chose to use as code. 

“Coded word?” The voice coming from inside was definitely female and sounded fairly young.

“Dolphin,” she replied, repeating the word that was texted to her only a few seconds ago.

“Come in.”

The door opened another few inches, and Celaena walked in, the door slamming shut behind her. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior, and when they did, she found herself in a long and narrow corridor, the woman already walking away in front of her. Adjusting her leather jacket, Celaena followed.

They looked to be almost the same height, and the lady was wearing all black clothes, barely visible in the darkness. They reached an elevator at the end of the hall, and the doors opened automatically to show a small round lift with mirrors all around.

As they stepped in, Celaena got a better look at her escort and was surprised to find she only looked a few years older than herself. Her hair was as dark as her eyes, and it was long and straight, getting almost to her waist. She smelled faintly of tobacco, and her face was set on a hard unmovable expression. She almost looked bored.

A sepulchral silence surrounded them as they went down, and down, and down. It took longer than expected till the doors finally opened up again to reveal a small room, illuminated by a single yellow-ish light. There was another girl there, sitting at a small desk with a computer, and Celaena had to look back and forth to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. The girl at the desk looked exactly the same as the one by her side, the only difference being that her hair was light-blond instead of midnight black.

“This is how things work around here,” the blond said, pointing to a little scanner on the table. “We trade in secrets. Before you can step into the den, you need to scan your fingerprint here.” She pointed at the small scanner, a humorless smile on her lips. “We will share all our secrets with you, in exchange for all of yours.”

Celaena doubted for a minute, her fingers tapping the side of her thigh furiously as she thought about what to do. She needed to find out what was going on with her aunt, and maybe these girls checking up on her would be an effective test to see how good they were at their job. There was no registry of Aelin after she was about 8 years old, and all her records as Celaena were fake and not linked to her digits whatsoever. She was a ghost, a dead girl, there was nothing for her to fear. 

She convinced herself that it was alright, that she could do this, and taking one step forward, she pressed her finger against the scanner.

A red light blinked under her finger, and then the blond indicated for her to do the index from her other hand too. The red light blinked again, and then Celaena looked into the blond girl’s eyes, her irises moving back and forth as she read information from the screen in front of her, her fingers flying over the keyboard at a speed Celaena had never seen before.

“Well, well,” the blond said after the longest minute in Celaena’s life. “Welcome to our den, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius,” she said, standing up and opening the metal door behind her.

Celaena’s shock from hearing someone other than Sam use her real name for so long was almost overrun by the sight of the room in front of her. She took a step in, following the blond, with the twin right behind her heels.

The room was huge, with high ceilings full of hanging light bulbs in all sizes and shapes. The walls had led lights on every side, making the room bright but pleasant to the eyes at the same time. Right in the middle, three huge desks were forming a triangle, one of the edges pointing to the door, so the desk on the back was mostly covered from sight from where Celaena was standing. The two desks she could see had the biggest screens Celaena had ever seen, and they were covered in all kinds of machines with lights blinking all over the place. 

Against the wall on the right, there were several pinball machines, and to the left, there was a set of couches with three flat-screen TVs attached to the wall, and massive shelves full of movies and books to each side of them. 

As Celaena took in the place with her jaw hanging a little open, a third figure stood up from the desk on the back, and the twins standing to each side of her smiled wickedly, nodding as a way of greeting.

“Sisters,” the new girl said, stepping from behind the desk and walking around until she was right in front of Celaena. “I see you’ve brought our newest client.” 

Blinking again and feeling dumbfounded, Celaena extended a hand toward her. She had been mistaken to think the girls were twins; even if the one standing now in front of her had golden eyes instead of black, and her hair was of the most radiant silver, there was no doubt to her that these girls were triplets. They looked like printed copies in different colors.

“I’m Manon,” the silver-haired one said, taking the hand Celaena was offering. “My sister here is Asterin,” she pointed to the blond girl, “and this is Sorrel,” she added as she pointed to the dark-haired one. “And we welcome you to the Blackbeak den,” she gestured theatrically to the room and then headed towards the couches, the other two girls following behind her.

Feeling a little out of place, Celaena grabbed a seat.

“What can we do for you, Aelin?”

She swallowed hard, her neck feeling clammy with sweat, her heartbeat going wild inside her chest. Hearing her name again after so long, was a strange feeling. She tried to picture Sam by the coast, telling her she could be whoever she wanted to be, telling her she was indeed all three. Celaena, Aelin, and Fireheart. She looked at each of the triplets, holding their gaze, reading their eyes. They all seemed composed, wickedly serious, but trustworthy, even if Celaena wasn’t one to trust anybody. But maybe… Maybe Aelin could trust. No one had known who she was before, and if these girls had found out in a matter of minutes, then she had to believe they could help her with her parents’ case. And if that trust was broken, well… Then Fireheart could always take matters into her own hands: literally.

She took one last deep breath, cracked her knuckles, and then proceeded to explain what she needed.

“Should be easy enough,” Asterin said after she had finished talking.

“We don’t jump to conclusions, Asterin,” Manon corrected. “When do you need this information?”

“As soon as possible. Once you have the list, and if I find what I’m looking for in it, I’d like to do a full investigation on the person we find.”

“Good. Let us work, we’ll contact you as soon as we have anything,” Sorrel explained.

“No questions asked,” Asterin added as if finishing her sister’s sentence. “That’s our policy.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Mannon filled in, a stoic look on her face, “as long as you don’t cross us. A single word about who we are, and we’ll know. One word out of your mouth about this place, and your life will be turned upside down, your every secret spilled like blood draining from a freshly open wound. Understood?”

Standing up and squaring her shoulders, Celeana nodded. “I understand. I don’t go around spilling secrets, only blood,” she winked at the silver-haired girl, who snarled back at her.

“Let’s hope neither is spilled in here,” Asterin added, a sweet smile on her lips that made her look somehow lethal.

By the time Celaena jumped back into her bike, her heart was still racing. Having someone know about her identity was not on her plans, and she hoped it better be worth it.

Here’s Manon for you <3

[steves-on-a-plane]

Run. (Part 8)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven /

 Words: 1705 Pairing: Tony Stark & Reader   Timeline: The Avengers: Age Of Ultron [2015]   Other Info: Run AU     Summary: In the aftermath of Ultron’s attack, Reader gives her harebrained husband a piece of her mind before joining the rest of the team in the lab for the next plan.

April 2015

In one moment, there was shattering glass and gun shots and in the next instant, silence. You waited still not knowing if the winning team had been your own. Your song and daughter were each clinging to you closely. They were waiting on you for what to do now. Then there was the frantic stomp of footsteps on the stairs and running up the balcony. Then the door to Eddie’s room burst open and all three of you screamed.

“Guys it’s okay. It’s me! It’s Dad.” Tony panted. He was griping the doorknob tight. His expression switched between relief, worry and regret in rapid succession.

“See,” You said kissing Serina on the head and then Eddie. “I told you, nothing to worry about. So, let’s get everyone to bed okay?” With Tony’s help you got Eddie all tucked back into bed while Serina hovered by the doorway watching you. You turned Eddie’s dinosaur nightlight on before turning off the main light and ushering Tony and Serina outside.

“Holy shit!” Serina exclaimed as she looked over the balcony. The rest of the team was still there. Somewhere examining the damage that had been done. Steve and Maria were off to one side conversing with their heads tucked down low. No doubt discussing your husband and his reckless actions. The tower had suffered, but physically everyone was fine. That was the important thing. Windows, walls, tables all of that could be replaced. You were just lucking nothing more serious had happened. At your daughter’s exclamation, anyone close enough to have heard her looked up.

“Someone said a bad word, Cap, you heard her.” Tony, as he was known to do when he was nervous, cracked a joke. But as he took in the glares around the room he walked the statement back. “Right, not the time.” You placed an arm around your daughter but she shrugged you off.

“I can find my own way to my room.” She snapped before stomping off. That left you and Tony free to descend the steps into the lion’s den.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You hissed as you started walking down the stairs.

“I was thinking about them.” Tony quipped back. “I want them to live in a world where they don’t have to worry about alien invasions and killer robots.”

“You’re the only one creating killer robots!” You argued. You’d reached the bottom of the stairs. You walked past Maria and Steve and towards Bruce.

“You!” You growled at Banner. “He couldn’t have done this on his own! And I get that he can’t see past his own nose when he gets an idea in his head, but you’re supposed to be the levelheaded one! You’re supposed to have this world-renowned control! We had an agreement you and I!” Tony placed a hand on your shoulder trying to hold you back as you continued to charge at Banner. You noticed Natasha step up to Bruce’s side so that she was standing just in front of him.

“Sweetheart, maybe we don’t go charging at the man who can turn into a giant green monster, okay?” He suggested quietly.

“Oh! Oh! You want me to listen to you about what’s safe?” You rounded on him, raising your voice this time. “So just to be clear yelling at Banner is off the table, but the two of you making a killer AI who destroys my home and puts my kids in danger, that’s okay?”

“They’re my kids too, [Y/N].” Tony said quietly.

“Why don’t we give everyone a minute.” Steve suggested trying to draw some attention away from you and Tony. “Take some time to assess the damage, clean wounds, change clothes. We’ll meet back here in a half an hour. Banner, Stark, figure out what the hell happened here. Romanoff, Barton, work with them, see what systems if any were compromised.”

“They’re my kids too, damn it.” Tony mumbled again before going walking off to his lab. You sighed and followed after him.

“Tony.” You called out to him quietly, standing just outside the door to the lab. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him.

“You know why.” Tony scoffed, his back turned to you. He shuffled through mangled Iron Legionnaire parts as he tried to make his way over to the computer. You took a few steps inside and watch him and Bruce working.

“Because I would have tried to stop you?” You guessed.

“Yes, because you would have tried to stop me.”  Tony slammed his fist on the desk. “And you know what?” He turned on his heels. “I would have listened to you! Because I would do anything for you. All you’d ever have to do is ask, and I’d give it to you. But this, this was important!”

“All our work is gone.” Bruce interjected, looking up from his own computer. “Ultron cleared everything out and used the internet as an escape hatch.” Natasha, Clint and Steve entered the lab. The two experienced agents stomped into the room; their faces were expressionless masks. Steve on the other hand had both of his arms folded over his chest. It was the first time you’d ever seen the captain look angry. You didn’t know he had it in him.

“He’s been in everything.” Natasha huffed. “Files, surveillance. Probably knows more about us than we know about each other.”

“He’s in the files, he’s in the internet. What if he decides to access something a little more exciting?” Rhodey asked as he and Maria joined you in the lab.

“Nuclear codes?” Maria asked worriedly.

“Nuclear codes!” Rhodey nodded solemnly as he massaged his shoulder that must have been injured in the flight. “Look, we need to make some calls. Assuming that we still can.”

“Nukes?” Natasha shook her head. “He said he wanted us dead.”

“He. Didn’t say dead.” Steve disagreed. “He said extinct.”

“He also said he killed somebody.” Clint remembered.

“There wasn’t anyone else in the building, the kids are fine right, [Y/N]?” Maria asked. You nodded wordlessly.

“Yes, there was.” Tony tapped a few buttons on his keyboard and a holographic image appeared in the center of the lab. You recognized the glowing golden-orange ball despite it being broken and decayed.

“JARVIS.” You sighed.

“JARVIS was the first line of defense.” Steve frowned. “He would have shut Ultron down. It makes sense.”  

Thor was the last to come charging into the room. He brushed past you and Steve and everyone else and straight towards your husband. He grabbed Tony by the throat and hoisted him in the air.

“Woah, Woah…” Steve tried to jump in to stop him, but Thor paid him no attention.

“Come on, use your words, buddy!” Tony commented as she struggled to breath.

“I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark.” Thor huffed. He released his hold on Tony, who landed on his feet.  

“Now we must retrieve the scepter, again.” He complained.

“Genie’s out of that bottle.” Natasha disagreed. “Clear and present is Ultron.”

“Well if no one else is going to ask, I will.” You announced. “You two built this program. Why is it trying to kill you?” Instead of answering you, Tony just started to laugh.

“You think this is funny?” Thor questioned. He very clearly did not find the situation funny.

“No, it’s probably not. Right?” He looked over and you and then around the room at the others. “This is really terrible? Is it so…” He laughed again. “Is it so terrible?”

“This could have been avoided if you hadn’t played with something you don’t understand.” Thor chastised him.

“No.” Tony interrupted him; his tone suddenly very serious. “I’m sorry, it is funny. It’s a hoot that you don’t get why we need this!”

“Tony, maybe this might not be the time…” Bruce warned him cautiously.

“Really?” Tony hissed. “That’s it? You just roll over, show your belly? Every time somebody snarls?”

“Only when I’ve created a murder bot.” Bruce countered.

“We didn’t.” Tony insisted. “We weren’t even close. Were we close to an interface?”

“Well you did something right.” Steve sighed. “And you did it right here. The Avengers were supposed to be different than SHIELD.”

“Anybody remember when I carried a nuke through a wormhole?” Tony asked the room at large.

“Nope, it’s never come up.” Rhodey commented sarcastically and shook his head. Around the room the others averted their gaze or rolled their eyes. Everyone except you and Rhodey who had better practice at listening to Tony’s grandiose ‘here’s why I’m right’ speeches.

“Saved New York? Anyone recall that?” Tony continued to poll his audience. You looked at Rhodey and he looked at you. Neither of you would be able to reign Tony in from his soap box.  “A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. We’re standing 300 feet below it. We’re the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all the livelong day, but that up there,” He pointed up at the ceiling. “That’s the endgame. How were you guys planning on beating that?”

“Together.” Steve answered, not caring if the question was rhetorical.

“We’ll lose.” Tony shook his head.

“Then we’ll do that together too.” Steve assured him. “Thor’s right. Ultron’s called us out. I’d like to find him before he’s ready for us.” He added loud enough for the rest of the team to hear. “The world’s a big place, let’s start making it smaller.”

“How can I help, Cap?” You asked Steve.

“No, no,” Tony shook his head. “Absolutely not. I don’t want you involved.”

“You involved me when you brought your work home with you, literally.” You snapped at him. “And I wasn’t asking you, I was asking Steve.” You looked back at the captain and waited for his answer.

“If Ultron’s been in our files,” Steve sighed, scratching his head. “We might have to go old school. We could use some help bringing up old SHIELD files from the basement.”

“I’m on it.” You saluted the Captain and left the lab. You were almost at the elevator when you got a text from your husband.

Run?

Absolutely not. You texted back furiously. You made this mess, you clean it up.

[eastertag]

@tracybirds gift for @overlordraax

Dissonance

Happy Easter @overlordraax! Thank you for your wonderful prompts and I hope you enjoy the read!! Thank you as well to @ak47stylegirl for your organisation of this fun event!! Be well!

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Just sitting on the piano stool was enough to calm Virgil’s racing mind and fidgeting fingers after a long, hard day of rescues. A day when he was too caught up in heartache to concentrate on anything arduous, when all he could do was form the familiar chords with his hands and lean into them. He allowed them to ring, I … IV … V … I, first in C major, then in A minor, G major, F major – the same chord progression he had been acquainted with since he was a child, played over and over again.

Eventually, the music restored his soul enough to move on to scales and arpeggios, still friendly and familiar to his ear. A juxtaposition to the way he felt inside.

He needed more, the repetition that had been a soothing balm becoming tedious and filling him with anxiety. It matched the way his mind replayed the events of the day and he knew he needed to break free from the pattern.

Virgil began to perform.

An outpouring of grief, slow and soft, the sustained notes holding his soul aloft as he reflected on the mission. As tears gave way to anger, the music shifted, the tempo increasing as his breathing quickened, to rising crescendos and structured dissonance that he could pour his heart into.  The pitch rose as hysteria bubbled in his throat, his mind whirling as the musical phrase repeated again and again and again.

An electronic trill caught on the notes, discordant friction in the soundscape and changing the musical form he was sculpting out of melody and rhythm.

Virgil opened his eyes and glared at the holoprojector, the interruption ensuring he still felt jumbled up inside. There was no John hovering above the conversation pit however, just a ring of lights slowly orbiting in the air.

“I must request you stop this.”

Virgil’s sour mood took a turn for the worse as he stared at EOS. She didn’t know what she was asking, but his self-control was frayed and he couldn’t help the snapping response that fell from his lips.

“You can’t make me.”

The lights that marked EOS’s presence flashed and the holoprojector died. Virgil turned back to his music and if he banged on the keys a little harder than necessary, well, no-one was around to call him out on it.

“You must stop.”

He yelped and jolted backwards as EOS leapt into view in front of him over the piano itself.

“I can’t.”

“You must.”

Virgil frowned. EOS was rarely so insistent on her perspective when it came to things she didn’t understand. Her primary function was to play, and although John tried to keep her contained, her drive to seek out novelty and experiment with new ideas meant the family was used to narrating their daily lives as she peppered them with questions.

This was not the kind of request EOS usually made.

Virgil closed his eyes, knowing he would need to put aside his own emotions for the time being.

“Can you explain further, EOS?”

Instead of replying, her image was replaced by a projection of Virgil’s own biometrics.

“Your blood pressure and breathing rate have both increased. I am detecting a loss of stability in your extremities and your hormone production indicate the inducement of severe stress in your body.” She paused, allowing Virgil to digest her words. “The only stimulus in the last hour has been your piano. You must stop.”

The emotion swelled inside Virgil, bitter on his tongue and his heart constricted. He looked past EOS’s display and returned to the familiarity of pounding scales. A placeholder only – and no way to allow the pain that rested deep in his gut to leech from his core, through his skin and out into the air. As long as EOS was there, it couldn’t be released. He didn’t have the words to explain to her what was truly wrong, couldn’t bear to battle over the precise meanings of grief and anger and pain.

“Virgil, please,” she said, her voice ticking up a by a perfect fourth as she spoke. Her tone was exact and unwavering most of the time, and Virgil knew the sudden change was an appeal of pathos – as much as EOS’s programming could allow.

His vision blurred as he continued to move his hands across the keys, plucking the various forms from memories of long ago. He ignored the watery, laboured breathing that accompanied his music, ignored the fingers that slipped off the black keys and soured the notes even more. Anything to ignore that creeping guilt that told him to explain to EOS what was wrong.

 “Virgil.”

He opened his eyes in shock, staring at the brother EOS had gone to fetch.

“Are you okay? EOS said you were in distress.”

John looked confused, assessing Virgil quickly as he looked him up and down.

“I’m fine.”

“No,” said John, now frowning. “No, you’re not. Your stress hormones are off the charts.”

“I said ‘I’m fine’,” said Virgil. His voice reverberated around the room, mixing with the piano. There was no more energy for scales running up and down the keyboard. Instead harsh, angry notes grouped themselves together under his direction. He didn’t care about chord progressions or musical theory, he only cared about his emotions trapped inside being lanced from his soul.

“Virgil, calm down,” said John.

Clashing discordance rang through the room as Virgil slammed his hands down.

“Leave me alone, John,” he shouted. He could hear footsteps running towards the living room, and turned away. His eyes were burning from both exhaustion and the effort to keep back his tears. “Take your damn computer virus and leave me be.”

He stood abruptly, the stool falling backwards with a bang.

“That was Mom’s.”

“And now it’s mine,” snapped Virgil, the hot rush of anger painting over the hurt on John’s face.

He pushed past Gordon, who had skidded into the room with wide eyes.

“Get out of the way,” he muttered, trudging past him.

The silence followed him all the way to his suite.

“Virgil.”

He should have known she wouldn’t let it lie.

“EOS, not now, I’m…”

He couldn’t find the words. They stuck in his throat. He could hear the sound they made, the sharp staccato of rash anger, the modulation between grief and guilt. Without his music holding him together, he crumpled onto the soft sofa and let himself cry.

“Virgil.”

EOS could sweeten her voice when she chose, could shape it so that its melody became soft and smooth.

“I wish to make reparations for my actions.”

Before Virgil could reply, a jaunty rag played from his speakers. Bright syncopation and cheery colour exploded around him.

“Mute,” he snapped.

The music sat unresolved, weighing down his heart all the more.

“You can’t make me feel better just by playing a happy tune, EOS. People died today. You can’t just forget that.”

“You could not have done more.”

“I know.” Virgil sat up slowly, making eye contact with the holo. “But I wish I could have. And I know what their families are feeling.”

He shuddered, the old memory still recalling fresh pain. The seeping wound that he couldn’t heal no matter how desperately he painted over it, no matter how loudly he played to drown out the sorrow. And now a new family would learn to live with that.

Because they hadn’t been enough.

“You are upset again. I sought to change that. Music does not help.”

“It’s not about changing my feelings, EOS,” said Virgil quietly. “It’s about expressing them.”

“But people use music to influence emotion constantly.”

Virgil shook his head. “We convey emotion with music. People are just naturally empathetic.”

“Then why do you not empathise with this performance?” asked EOS. “If you empathised with it, you would no longer be sad.”

Virgil ran his hand down his face.

“Because I’m not in a neutral emotional state to begin with. It’s difficult to empathise with happiness when you’re already feeling upset.”

EOS was quiet.

“What about this one?” she asked.

Virgil closed his eyes as one of Chopin’s Nocturnes filled his room.

“Closer EOS,” he breathed. “That’s closer.”

He lay back and allowed the music to flow over him. As the notes died away, he could feel his emotional equilibrium begin to realign.

“Thanks EOS.” His eyes fell on the old upright piano that stood in the corner of the room. It wasn’t as nice as the grand in the family room, the paint chipping away and the white keys yellowed with age. But it had been his first piano, the one his mother had dragged into the house before they were all born.

“Was it enough?”

“No,” he said quietly, sitting on the piano stool. His fingers ran across the piano lid before he lifted it and he sighed as he picked out the familiar melody of another Chopin.

“It’s not your fault EOS,” he said, leaning into the music. “Listening has never been enough for me. You did help.”

The ring of lights shone green for a second.

“How can I tell the difference?”

“The difference between what?”

“Between the happy and the sad pieces?”

Virgil paused for a second, thinking it over.

“Why did you pick the first one?”

“I cross referenced the metadata that was attached to copies of the music on the holonet. They all recognised the piece as happy, or of synonyms of the word. The specific combination of rhythm and pitch hold no more significance than any other, and I have no experience to compare them with.”

A soft round of simple intervals filled the air.

“Can you hear the difference?”

“Of course. One pitch remains the same and the other changes.”

“No, no,” said Virgil. “Listen to how they interact, can you hear the difference.”

A major chord. A minor chord. Only one semitone between them, a half-step that painted the world in simplistic feeling.

The notes faded away. EOS remained silent. Virgil played the chords again, waiting for her response.

“They combine differently. The ratio of their wave frequencies are different.”

“How so?”

“One produces a more complex sound. It has a higher frequency ratio.”

Virgil smiled.

“The more complex, the more dissonant. Usually.”

The notes repeated a few more times as EOS tried it out for herself using her own databanks. Virgil sat back, listening to her experiment. It reminded him of himself as a young child, banging enthusiastically on the piano. He wanted to make the same pretty sounds as his Mom, but at the same time, he just wanted to play.

 “I don’t like that one.”

“Which one?”

The sharp, sour notes of the tritone interval filled the room.

“Ah, yes,” said Virgil wincing. “Used to be called the devil’s chord.”

The implications of what she had just said caught suddenly on his mind.

“What do you mean you don’t like it?”

“It has a 45:32 frequency ratio. It doesn’t superimpose well. The sound is… dissonant.”

Virgil’s face split into a grin. “That’s what we hear too. Except we can’t describe it as accurately, so we assign emotion to it instead. How does it make you feel?”

“I feel…” EOS paused and the clashing notes silenced. “I feel unstable. I know the sounds that are easier to comprehend and I want to return to them.”

A number of artificially sped-up pieces flew through the speakers.

“Not all music follows this pattern.”

“Well, no,” said Virgil. “A lot of music is about expectation. What you think should happen next and whether or not that is fulfilled is an important part of the experience. Different cultures, different time periods, even different styles use different patterns in music.”

His hands sought out the modal scales he had been taught in high school, the first example that leapt to mind. Smiling, he launched into one of his favourite jazz pieces.

“Some styles will rely on dissonant intervals so much, they become normal to the ear. The more you listen, the more you’ll be able to identify the different types of patterns.”

The music ended with a flourish.

“But we’re talking about emotion, aren’t we EOS?” A new melody spilled out of him, the memory of its last performance itching at the back of his mind. “Without dissonance, the music is dull, it’s monotony and boredom and drudgery. Like a life where everything is perfect and you always get your way. Dissonance breaks the pattern, it create interest in the music.”

“The change affirms your turbulent experience in the world.”

“Exactly,” said Virgil. “It can reflect so much, the way we explore new ideas, how we take risks or grow from failure. Without dissonance, music would be nothing more than a predictable pattern and have no creativity or drive behind it.”

“No life. No emotion.”

“And if we cut it off, if we never bring the music home?”

The final notes hovered in the air and Virgil could almost see the way they floated next to EOS.

“I feel incomplete. Like I’ve lost something but I don’t know what.”

Soft arpeggios brought the music back to life. Virgil watched as EOS processed and catalogued the newly made connections.

“The pitch of the sound can’t be the only contributing factor. The amplitude of your playing has changed in a manner consistent with your stress levels. If there are direct connections to be made, is this another one?”

Virgil continued to play, soft and light as he analysed his own emotions. He’d forgotten where all this had begun.

“Not always,” he said. “But often. You can’t just look at one part. You have to take them in relationship to each other. The choice of instruments, the articulation, the rhythm, the harmony. It all combines to make something greater than it would be if only one form of expression was used.”

“Music mimics its makers.”

Virgil blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“You are only one part. And you combine to make something greater than you would be alone.”

“I–”

A sharp buzzer jolted Virgil from his thoughts and he stared dumbly at the door.

“Virgil?”

The worry was evident in his brother’s voice as it crackled through the intercom. He spoke softly, cautious of interrupting Virgil but convinced of its necessity.

For a moment, he considered retreating into the bedroom, where he knew Scott would leave him be.

He didn’t want to leave his piano though. Not yet.

“Thank you EOS. You should go.”

He turned towards the door, raising his voice slightly.

“Come in.”

Scott slipped inside and shut the door firmly behind them. Virgil could smell the soap as he walked closer, the collar of his shirt wet from the hair he hadn’t quite finished drying.

“John called me when he couldn’t get a hold of you,” he said simply, making himself comfortable on the sofa. “And Gordon nearly dragged me out of the shower to come talk to you.”

“You could have spared an extra minute to dry off.”

“Whatever.” He picked at the pilled fabric of his trousers. “Was more worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

Virgil didn’t know what to say. He had been angry, hurting, grieving. The ache was still present in his chest, but he wasn’t sure how to explain to Scott how already the solace he found in music was beginning to take effect. Scott wasn’t dismissive of his love of art but his experiences were firmly rooted in a more concrete reality.

“I was talking to EOS.”

The expression on Scott’s face was unreadable.

“I see.”

“She asked for more information about my… outburst.” Virgil turned to face the piano so he wouldn’t have to look his brother in the eye. “We talked about music. I explained how I was feeling.”

“Did it help?”

Virgil closed his eyes and listened. There was melancholy there, a rough bittersweetness that underpinned the soft, sad acceptance of the events of the day.

But there was a restful peace there too, a flowing movement of sound that had begun to grow louder with the reminder that he wasn’t isolated in his emotions.

The framework for a new composition.

“Yeah, Scott, it did. She did.”

Virgil rested his hands on the piano.

“Stay a while. I want to play something for you.”

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“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.”

~ Victor Hugo (Essay on William Shakespeare)

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