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fairfowl · 4 years

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Dress For the Weather (ch 1)

Diego has a long history of taking care of Klaus, at this point it might as well be an instinct. Klaus and Diego take a walk, and take care of each other in their own way

Klaus had never been one to dress for the weather.

Diego distinctly remembered picking his brother up from a bus station in January, only to find him standing in the snow, smoking and wearing a tank top and hotpants.

They had been twenty two years old, and Diego remembered wondering aloud how Klaus hadn’t died of hypothermia yet—Klaus had simply shivered in the passenger’s seat of Diego’s car, and asked if Diego wanted a puff of his cigarette.

So when Klaus and Allison burst into the Academy soaking wet and carrying groceries on April 4th 2019 Diego wasn’t at all surprised to see that Klaus had elected to wear a sleeveless shirt, or that he was shivering.

At least this time he was wearing shoes.

When they’d all left the academy (run away) Diego had been the one who’d kept tabs on Klaus, who’d had some vague idea of where he was during those first two years of spiraling drug addiction and homelessness. He’d encouraged his brother to sleep at his apartment—which at that time had been a moldy hole-in-the-wall with a half-bathroom and no stove—and given Klaus food every time that they ran into one another.

Diego had been struggling too, but for all that Luther went on about family and responsibility, Diego had been the one who really felt that being a family meant responsibility.

He was the one who felt that family meant loving each other, and that the duty love entailed was trying to help one another.

Out of the seven (six) (five) of them he’d been the only one to think so.

Eventually he’d become worn out. Klaus was more stubborn than of them had ever given him credit for, and even more self-destructive than they could have imagined. After being called time after time to pick his brother up from emergency rooms, or worse, police stations, with no improvement and ever worsening-shadows beneath Klaus’s eyes Diego finally had enough.

He’d tried to be calm yet firm as he’d told Klaus to take him off of his emergency contact list, but when Klaus had started crying Diego had started yelling.

And Klaus had still called him, still listed Diego as his only family, his only living connection to the world.

Eventually Diego had gotten rid of his cell phone entirely. He’d claimed that he didn’t need it and that the monthly bill was a waste of resources.

He saw Klaus less and less after that.

Still in those early years he’d been the one to learn his brother’s bad habits, the one to wrap him in blankets and wipe blood from his face. He’d been the one to offer a shower and a bag of frozen (and refrozen) (and refrozen again) peas to put on his bruises. In the cold light of morning Diego had been the one to glance down alleys as he walked to work, the one to keep gatorade and dinosaur egg instant oatmeal in his cupboards to ply Klaus with after he’d picked him up from the hospital.

Those days were long gone, and the habits mostly broken (his and Klaus’s) but some things had been repeated to the point of instinct. As Allison walked away to put away the groceries Diego had listened to Klaus’s teeth chatter and unthinkingly pulled his brother by the hand up the stairs.

“Why are you soaking wet dude? What the hell?”

“Allie was holding the groceries, so I held the umbrella.” Usually when Klaus was high Diego was able to tell, not through some fantastic brotherly instinct, but via a series of cues. He might not have been able to tell when a random person was sober or not, but Klaus had his own specific tells and Diego had eventually learned to look for them. Blown pupils, oddly calm demeanor, steady hands, and a light slurring voice—he’d always favored downers, saving his use of stimulants for parties and other special occasions. Even when he’d been on a relatively low dose of whatever poison he’d put into his body, Klaus’ voice had always gained a sort of floaty ungrounded quality.

So at that moment, even though his words were flippant and overly cheerful Diego comforted himself with the reassurance that Klaus was still sober. He was just weird like that.

“And you didn’t hold the umbrella over your head too?”

“There wasn’t room, I didn’t want the groceries to get wet.” As though that was a reasonable explanation for his actions. Really Diego shouldn’t have expected anything else.

It was just like Klaus.

If he'd been left to his own devices Diego wondered if his brother would have even thought of drying off or getting into clean clothes. Klaus was good at surviving, but sometimes neglected his own comfort as if the thought didn't even occur to him. Usually he would eventually seek our food or warmth, but only after sitting around and muttering to himself for a while.

Now that Ben was well and truly gone Diego wondered how often Klaus would simply forget to care for himself, he imagined that Ben had been instrumental in Klaus's survival over the twelve years that they'd been on their own. The thought was sobering.

He gripped Klaus's hand tighter as they reached the top of the stairs and led him through the hall, Klaus dripping all the way. As they passed the linen closet Diego grabbed a bath towel and threw it at his shivering brother before shoving him into his bedroom.

"Get yourself dried off before you freeze to death." He slammed the door.

"Diego you're so mean!"

-*-*-*-

At 2:00 am April 5th 2019 Diego heard a knock on his bedroom door.

Diego had always been a night owl, too busy training, practicing his speech, worrying, or prowling the streets looking for crime to fight to bother going to sleep at a reasonable hour. He had never needed much sleep and it was a quirk that had served him well over the years.

When Reginald had been alive he had either sat up in the dark, utilizing whatever light spilled in through the drawn curtains of his window, or crouched under his blankets with a flashlight. Once Diego had moved out he had graduated to leaving the light on and turning it off whenever he felt ready to sleep, and he had relished that freedom.

Now Reginald was dead, and at 2:00 am in his bedroom at the Umbrella Academy Diego had his lights on.

And there was a knock on his bedroom door.

“Hey Diego, are you awake?” Diego rolled over, shoving his messy cross-stitch under the pillow.

“Yeah?” After a few moments of waiting in silence for the door to open and his brother to barge in Diego sait up, legs swinging over the side of the bed. He walked to the door and peeked through. “What do you want Klaus?”

“I can’t sleep.” And wasn’t that a blast from the past? Diego could remember Klaus whispering that exact phrase through his cracked door before they even had names. When they’d been tiny and afraid, before Klaus had hardened himself, when Diego stuttered out every painful word that crossed his young angry mind.

W-what do you ex-ex-expect me to do about it?

“Yeah? You okay?” Diego watched his brother deflate, the bravado and pizazz of the day giving way to defeated exhaustion in the privacy of night. Diego remembered his brother towering over him and still seeming so so small as he stumbled into Diego's room after a training session with Reginald.

No matter how late he got back Diego was always awake.

And eventually Diego had gotten his growth spurt.

Klaus was still taller than him, and at times like this he still seemed so small.

“I’m okay,” Klaus lied, his hand going up to fiddle with the dog tags that still laid around his neck goodbye. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

And that is different.

Where they were children, here, at the Academy, they would have had to carefully sneak out if they were to leave the building unsupervised. It was the sort of thing that would have taken a week of planning at minimum, and such an opportunity certainly could never be squandered for something as purposeless as a walk. Diego nodded his head and turned to tug his leather jacket on over his sweats. He noticed that Klaus was still wearing day-clothes, although he had at least shed the soaked orange and red ensemble from before.

This outfit didn’t look very warm, but it had sleeves, and at least the rain had stopped.

-+-+-+-+

Outside the streetlights and neon signs of the city reflected off of the damp pavement. Klaus was surefooted as he led them down the street, dodging puddles and garbage with absentminded grace. Diego followed silently like a shadow.

He wondered if he was filling in for Ben, trailing after Klaus as he wandered the city streets at night. It seemed more likely that he was there as a chaperone, providing unspoken help as his brother continued his efforts to stay sober.

Maybe it was a bit of both.

Diego sped up until he was walking beside Klaus.

"Where are we going?" He asked, attempting to meet his brother's eyes. For a moment Klaus said nothing, his expression thoughtful.

"Do you think Griddy's still burned down in this timeline?" Klaus’s face was lined with exhaustion, and his long hair obviously needed a wash, but his smile was the same as ever; wry, wide, warm. Griddy’s was a fond memory in a sea of regret and trauma, and Diego was struck by a sudden longing for strong coffee and homemade donuts.

“I don’t know.” He said, trying to match Klaus’s easy smile. To him it felt forced but Klaus didn’t comment. Around them the wind picked up again and Diego shivered. “Let’s go see.”

They picked up the pace, walking side by side and hopping over puddles like they were still thirteen. Diego rationalized to himself that he at least looked more dignified now.

Klaus did not.

Cars rushed past them and dark alleyways drew both of their eyes for different reasons, after a few blocks Diego began to think that maybe his brother was watching out for him as much as he was chaperoning and guarding Klaus.

The cool damp air felt good in his lungs, sharp and alive in a way that the heavy dusty air of the Academy didn’t.

How long would he have stayed up alone and stuck in his own head if Klaus hadn’t knocked on his door? Diego felt alive and present, maybe not happy, but not lost in the way he’d felt for the last few days. He knew that everyone was having a hard time—it was obvious in the tone of Vanya’s newly emotive voice, the worrying of Allison’t hands, Five’s haunted eyes and the hunch of Luther’s solemn shoulders— but he felt the weight of the last six months profoundly. Every time he closed his eyes the familiar walls of his childhood room turned white and padded.

He saw Lila in every shadow.

She was out there somewhere and Diego knew that one day he would see her again, she wasn’t the sort of person to just leave things alone.

And in the moment Diego was 30 years old, he had the power to deflect bullets, he’d taken part in a rebellion against his ex-girlfriend’s crazy adoptive mother, he had a family who was still with him despite the hell they’d all been through, he was walking outside the Academy at night without Reginald Hargreeves’s metaphorical ghost hovering over him, he had Klaus by his side, and Diego felt strong.

As it turned down Griddy’s was still standing, but it was closed.

Diego and Klaus stood in front of the darkened building, just in front of the locked doors. Through the shadowed glass Diego could see every piece of tacky restaurant furniture still intact, but no one was there. -

Fair enough.

At that point it was just past 3:00 and any sane business person would have closed long ago. Even in the city that never slept the hours between 3:00 and 6:00 were usually fairly quiet, the roar of traffic dulled to a trickle as the last of the bars closed and all that were left were a few greasy all-night restaurants.

“Do you want to get pizza?” Diego suggested, shivering as another damp breeze cut through the fabric of his sweatpants. Klaus didn’t seem cold at all, standing there in the dark in thin fabric without even a jacket.

“I’m lactose intolerant.” Klaus said.

“Oh right.” They continued to stand in silence, eyes meeting in their reflections against the dark glass of Griddy’s door.

“I know a bagel place that opens in an hour.” Klaus suggested, rocking back on his heels.

The shadows around his eyes looked more dramatic in the darkness of the street. For a moment Diego felt a fleeting fear that if he took his eyes away from his brother Klaus would melt back into some alleyway or around a shadowed corner and Diego would lose him again.

“Let’s just go home.” Back into the light and the warmth of the academy walls. Mom was most likely resting but their kitchen had been fully stocked that afternoon and between Diego and Klaus they would probably be able to put together a couple of bowls of cereal and maybe some tea.

Diego wondered if Klaus had bought dinosaur egg oatmeal.

He didn’t even know if his brother still liked it.

Klaus nodded, following after him as he led them back down the street. Under their feet the wet concrete made a gritty sound and Diego could imagine how the puddles were beginning to turn gray and brown as the dirt that coated the sidewalks was pulled up into the water. The dark hid the transition well but it was still happening unseen beneath the soles of their shoes.

“Can we stop at the convenience store and buy snacks?” Klaus interrupted the murmur of the dozing city with a murmur of his own, and Diego slowed his pace.

“Sure.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

By the time that they made it back to academy the streets were blanketed in a thick cold fog, and their hands were clutched around bags full of candies and snacks. Diego once again felt like he was twelve again. Immediately Klaus draped himself over a chair at the kitchen table and poured his bag of junk food out onto the table like a kid who’d just returned from trick-or-treating.

Diego sat too, but left his bag upright. He pulled out and opened a bag of jerky.

Across from him Klaus continued to arrange his spoils but opened nothing, apparently content just to see to see and touch his hoard. He slowly turned each item over in his hands as he laid it on the table, scanning the designs on the packaging.

With the lights on in the kitchen Diego was able to get a good look at this brother for the first time since that afternoon.

Klaus didn’t really look great.

The shadows beneath his eyes were still present, deep and purple-ish, and the eyes themselves were glassy. Diego wondered if he’d been crying. It had been hard to tell after Reginald had soundproofed Klaus’s room.

As Klaus continued to examine his snacks, muttering inaudibly—presumably to himself—Diego watched his brother, noting the bright spots on his otherwise pale cheeks as well as the sheen of sweat that glistened on his forehead.

It could just be a result of the cold dark weather.

Klaus could potentially be experiencing a withdrawal.

Or he could be running a fever after spending his day running out in the rain.

“Dude, you know you look awful?” Diego said gracelessly, interrupting his brother’s murmured monologue.

“Oh gee thanks Diego.” Klaus replied, rolling his eyes. “You always flatter me so-”

Diego frowned, leaning forward across the table and resting a hand against Klaus’s face. To his credit Klaus barely flinched and recovered well, pausing to look at Diego with a curious expression.

“I think you’re running a fever.” Diego said, pulling away. It was still possible that Klaus was withdrawing but Diego had seen that happen enough times to know that Klaus would usually be shaking and vomiting by now if that was the case. If he were withdrawing Diego knew that he would also be experiencing the wonders of tachycardia and perhaps dangerously high blood pressure.

“Oh…” Klaus murmured, running his hands over his upper arms slowly. Diego wondered if it was a self-soothing method. “That makes sense.”

Diego looked at his brother thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t cold.” He replied. Klaus shrugged his shoulders, unwilling to explain beyond that.

Diego nodded, understanding. They’d spent a solid hour walking the streets in damp frigid weather, and while Diego had been visibly bothered by the temperature Klaus hadn’t complained once. He hadn’t even been shivering. The few times that Diego had seen Klaus run a fever he hadn’t started shaking until things got bad. Now whatever illness he’d managed to contract was still digging its claws into him and Klaus actually felt the heat.

He looked so tired.

After a beat of silence Diego stood, straightening before pushing Klaus’s collection of junk food back into the plastic bag from which it came. It was easy enough to ignore Klaus whining as he circled the kitchen table to stand in front of his brother.

“Klaus you should go lay down.”

The two brothers stared at each other, allowing a beat of silence between them. After a moment Klaus flicked his eyes into the corner of the room, and Diego wondered who he was seeing there. As children he’d sometimes mentioned women in the kitchen, women with aprons and crushed skulls.

Broken necks.

“I don’t want to.” Klaus said finally, picking at his cuticles as he spoke, eyes resting anywhere but on Diego. He had the same look as he’d had at Diego’s door two hours ago, the one that still made him seem so so small.

It was a sharp contrast to his usual larger-than-life personality.

Without Ben it was probably just Klaus and his ghosts both literal and figurative. Or maybe it was just Klaus.

Diego wondered which alternative Klaus considered to be worse.

“Come hang out in my room then.” Diego suggested “You can chill on the bed, I was working on something up there anyway.”

Klaus looked unconvinced.

“C-come on. I’m not sleeping either way.”

#klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #klaus whump #tua #tua fanfic #my fic #original #i contributed #tua sickfic #whump

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hybbat · 3 years

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So last night my D&D group that made the veyr first session 9 hours long ended up making the third session 6 hours long because they decided to BUY 20 CHILDREN, STEAL A TRAIN, AND BACKTRACK ALL THE WAY HOME and it all started with them buying a sealed pot from a faun.

So the party was basically supposed to have something of a roadtrip session getting from point A to point B; they were leaving the town they started in, heading south to another town, then west to Steamtown, and then finally a trek through the desert to the crater where the main plot is waiting.

They did everything but the last part, because once they got to Steamtown they decided to walk around and do some shopping and see tourist traps.

The first one to go was Keahi, a fire genasi monk who used to be a normal man and believes himself to be a chosen one, and is a bit of a cultist nut. He had in the previous town taken in a stray dog he named Ember and wanted to buy food and a scarf for her. So he, in all his fiery glory, decided to walk around this magic hating city and was basically chased off by everyone.

He specifically searched for someone who looked similarly outcast and eventually found a faun merchant, named Parmesan, who was set up on a little mat with a very random assortment of wares, some of which were magic, some of which were just straight up broken or trash. Keahi bought a little orange scarf with a sun design on it and then browsed through the rest of Parm’s wares which included a “potion of removal”, a “Staff of Flours”, “Slippers of Fire Walking”, and most importantly, a sealed pot.

At the moment, Keahi’s biggest concern was a smouldering doll that was in the faun’s possession. Parm, whenever he sold something, would toss out a totally random amount of gold, however, but Keahi managed to convince him to trade it for a signed kazoo and a salamander plushy. Keahi, after also buying a scarf, went on his way.

Not long after he left, however, Fable, a battle-dancer bard tiefling who is part of the circus that acts as their homebase, came across the same faun. Fable had been on a mission to retrieve a shipment of wood planks for the circus but had stopped to browse. Fable, realizing this faun had a potion made by an old friend of his, having met his partymate, and also very obviously absolutely an idiot, decided to give Parm a bunch of money in exchange for the shoes and the sealed pot. When asked what was in the sealed pot he didn’t know so it was bought for 200 gp.

Fable discovered it was a literal jackpot filled to the brim with silver, gold, and platinum coins that totalled to around 1600 gp. Feeling guilty about the fact that Parm who was stupid and poor had sold him a pot of money, he went to bring 500 gp of the jackpot back out of guilt and Keahi tagged along.

In the end Fable felt guilty enough to take Parm on a shopping spree. On this shopping spree Parm saw a fortune teller, shrouded in darkness but with lizardfolk hands rubbing a crystal ball. Parm really just wanted the crystal ball but all three got their fortunes told. She predicted the homeless Parm would lose all his money, wife, and house, and that the orphan Keahi would meet someone related by blood who cared very much about him in the future.

Her final prediction was Fable’s, whom she could see great regret in his past, but could see that he would soon no longer have to worry about it, and revealed one green catlike eye to him before cackling as the stand collapsed right before their eyes.

Fable freaked the hell out at this point, because he knows exactly who that was, and realizes he is being watched by someone incredibly dangerous. Fable gives Keahi the instructions for the wood errand and drags Parm back to their camp to calm down.

So, Keahi ends up going to do this errand on his own to retrieve 4 crates of wood planks from a train station. Keahi had never been on a train simply because he was a poor cultist with no previous reason. So Keahi is quite shocked to discover the majority of this rail’s “employees” are, what they claim to be, tailless halflings (in my setting halflings have long monkey tails) but Keahi quickly figures out while interacting with the one who is helping him with his errand that these are in fact child slaves.

Keahi quickly realizes that his method of putting the lumber into the bag of holding is going to require 2 round trips. While leaving to deliver the first half Keahi, wanting to do something nice for this elf child, pays him a tip of 20 gold against the nervous boy’s own wishes.

When he gets back and explains the situation to Fable, formerly being a child slave himself and knowing exactly why the kid didn’t want the money, goes with Keahi for the second shipment, and they quickly discover that the overseer not only stole the gold but roughed the kid up as punishment. Keahi would not stand for this, and so Keahi, along with the boy’s old shaggy dog, confronted the overseer against both Fable and the boy’s wishes. It escalated pretty quickly, Keahi insisting on the money being returned and the overseer playing dumb and threatening to beat him up as well.

Fable, already stressed from earlier and having his own personal past trauma dragged up, stepped in and forced Keahi to back off, and then quietly asked how much it would cost to buy all the children. Against the other worker’s wishes the overseer sold all 20 children for 2000 gp, basically every coin Fable had.

Keahi wasn’t done, though, and very upset by the injustice. So, while the man was distracted, Keahi snuck up on him and sucker punched him with a stunning strike before stealing back all the money. The rest of the workers quickly chased after him right out of the train station, leaving Fable alone with 20 kids, an old dog, and an unattended train.

And unattended train he had all the employees for.

Keahi had a chase scene but could not get rid of his pursuers. In the end, however, he was saved by a mysterious Tabaxi woman with green eyes who cackled as she ran off.

Meanwhile, Fable had contacted their final party member, Domnall the plague doctor necromancer, who was looking after their pets, Parm, and the carriage, to come to the train station where they were preparing to steal a whole damn train.

Everyone eventually made it back and just as the last of the workers showed up they took off down the tracks, saved by the old dog giving a thunderous bark that froze the workers solid right before they climbed aboard. Thus, the party along with 20 children, a faun, and the 2 dogs (one of which was definitely not actually a dog) rode the rails all the way back to the town they started in, with all their money still, and where they proceeded to buy 2 carts and head north to meet back up with the circus to drop the children off with them to deliver to an orphanage in the next town they were heading to.

And that is how my players turned a well-planned 3-4 hour game into a 6 hour train heist all because of a sealed pot.

#dungeons and dragons #tiefling #genasi #tabaxi #faun #story #long post #monk #bard #necromancer #elf #D&D

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bisexualsforprompto · 4 years

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Of Roommates and Red Heroes Chapter 1

AO3

One (You are here) Next

One- Of pilots and new beginnings

Jason Todd ran, ran away from the legacy he could never fill. The one he was still expected to fill. Didn’t they know? Didn’t they know he had changed?

God, was had he even changed? It’s not like he could ever make up for what he did. But he couldn’t wear the colors of the Robin ever again either. He crossed a line, he was past the point of no return.

And Bruce couldn’t let him forget it.

As far as Jason was concerned, he didn’t deserve a redemption.

He didn’t deserve a happily ever after.

Dick (in more ways than one): [is online]

Lil bro Jason: [is online]

Dick (in more ways than one): Come back.

Lil bro Jason: No.

Dick (in more ways than one): Please, Bruce didn’t mean it.

Lil bro Jason: Honestly I give zero f*cks if he meant it.

Dick (in more ways than one): So that's it. You’re just solo now and we’ll never see you again?

Lil bro Jason: You are welcome to visit when you’d like, along with Steph, Tim, Barbara, etc etc. I don’t want to see him again.

Dick (in more ways than one): He’s your dad!

Lil bro Jason: Godammit Dick! He’s not! Open your goddamn eyes! He’s not our dad, he’s a man who just uses us for his dirty work!

Dick (in more ways than one): I can’t stop you from doing this, but just talk to Bruce at least, if you don’t you’ll regret it, trust me I know.

Lil bro Jason: [is offline]

•~•Sunday Nov.17, 8am EST•~•

Knock, knock, knock.

“Mr. Todd.”

Knock, knock, knock.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Jason said as he peeled a case file off his face, he’d fallen asleep the night prior reading it. Jason walked over to the nook where he kept all his ‘borrowed’ GCPD case filed which just happened to go missing from their archives every so often. For some reason, Jason liked to review case files. A lot. Maybe it was living with a detective for so long, but he felt at home in his own little world of files.

Jason brought a hand to his head, trying to shield his pounding headache. He remembered going out to the bar, but not much else. He brushed his hand down his face to feel stubble, another thing he’d have to deal with later. He fixed his hair a little bit before getting off his brown leather couch. He checked out what he was wearing, only pants. He sighed and picked up a plain black t shirt off the ground. Sliding it on, Jason walked over to the door and opened it.

Of all the things he was expecting today, he wasn’t expecting his landlord in full suit and tie showing up at his door. Unfortunately, it was his reality. A tall slim and bony man in a tacky olive green suit and oversized brown plastic glasses was holding a clipboard and pen in his hands.

“Mr. Jason Todd?”

Jason sighed, “That’s me.” The man looked him up and down. Jason was about to yell at him for judging but decided against it.

“You’ve been behind on your last payment for this flat. You have one week or you will be evicted.” The man said properly, leaving directly after despite Jason’s protests. Sighing, Jason shut the door.

He hadn’t found work in a long time. He’d been fired from his last job for drinking, and he couldn’t change his ways after being Red Hood and working with Batman. He went by the same mantle but working with Bruce did a number on him as always, only this time it was a positive change. He couldn’t work and make dirty money off drug cartels anymore, Red Hood was a lone vigilante but Jason Todd could only find himself doing honest work. Honest work that was very difficult to find in this day and age.

The only thing Jason could think that would save him would be getting a roommate. Jason sighed once more, all Gothamites were bat-shit crazy (pun not intended) and there was no way in hell he was taking Bruce’s blood money. Jason started drafting an ad and put it on Craigslist. The best he’d be able to do, hopefully before the date he’d be able to meet all of the candidates to make sure they weren’t insane.

‘Searching for a roommate in a flat in Gotham Sun Apartments. $500 per month expected. Contact xxx-xxx-xxx for more information. (Images attached below)’

Jason rubbed his pounding temple, all he could do was wait.

•~Friday Nov. 22, 10am EST~•~•

“Voyage.” Marinette called before stepping into a black portal. She whimpered as she landed in a dark alley. “Tikki, Kaaliki, divide.” She whispered. “Spots off.” She was released from her heroine persona. Marinette was bloody, bruised and confused. She didn’t know where Kaaliki had taken her but she hoped it was far away from Paris. Marinette walked warily out of the alley to see a beautiful city full of life around her. Many people walked past and she could hear snippets of conversation, only something was off about them…they were in English! Marinette realized, could Kaaliki’s Portal have taken her to America or England? Thank god for Madame Bustier’s lessons or Marinette wouldn’t be able to speak a lick of English, she was practically fluent after all of her lessons. Marinette took out her pigtails and slid the bands onto her arm, she checked her purse, Tikki and Kaaliki were in there as well as $2000. Master Fu had given it to her before her...departure.

Marinette continued down the street hoping to find some sign of where she was. Pedestrians gave her strange looks, most likely because of all her evident injuries. Marinette passed by street signs, all to generic to tell her anything. She accidentally bumped into a small girl wearing a sweatshirt that read “Gotham University”.

Marinette knew it was a stretch, it could just be a random sweatshirt but still she was determined to try.

‘Gotham University’ she typed into Google. Bingo. ‘Gotham University is a college in Gotham, New Jersey, America.’ So could she be in America? Marinette surveyed her surroundings, the most prominent building read Wayne Enterprises. ‘Worth a shot’ she mused. ‘Wayne Enterprises, Gotham’. Millions of hits, now she knew she must be in Gotham. Marinette continued to walk the streets to solve her next problem, where could she stay the night?

Marinette sighed turning corners, looking for any signs around. She felt a rumbling in her stomach, she couldn’t remember the last time she ate. Marinette couldn't see any food places around. She wandered around looking wildly for a café, bakery, restaurant, anything. She didn’t even realize she was on a collision course until she bumped into a muscular boy, about 4 years older than herself with black hair with a white streak in it and blue eyes.

•~Friday, 9:40am EST~•~•

Jason groaned as he got up. He wasn’t drunk like most nights before. He immediately went to check his computer, still no hits on Craigslist. Jason sighed, he didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t get anyone to rent with him by Sunday. He refused to move back into Bruce’s mansion again. Jason picked up his apartment keys and went to look for some food, he couldn’t find a solution to a problem without food or caffeine (Tim had rubbed off on him more than he wanted).

Jason opened his door and walked down the hall, he opted for the stairs as he didn’t feel like interacting with anyone at the moment. Jason brushed past the Gothamites on the street feeling extremely aggravated. He got lost in his own world of annoyance and didn’t even realize when he ran into a small blue-haired girl.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” Marinette said turning pink. She backed away feeling extremely embarrassed, “I just wasn’t looking where I was going and-“ Jason recognized that she wasn’t from Gotham. She just didn’t have that shrewd personality that came with the territory of being a Gothamite. For some reason it made him feel warmer, and his anger felt more soothed.

“It’s ok little lady, really. What brings you to Gotham?” Marinette stared up into the caring blue eyes of the boy she ran into. “I uh, well, um nothing in particular. But would you mind showing me somewhere to eat?” She asked, not wanting to revisit why she had to leave Paris. He seemed caring enough, hopefully he’d take her somewhere to eat. The man nodded, “Of course. I was headed to a café myself little lady. Hey, what’s your name?” Jason could respect that the girl didn’t want to talk about why she was here, after all, Jason didn’t like talking about his own past.

“Marinette.” Marinette blushed. “Alrighty then Marinette, I’m Jason. I’ll take you somewhere.” Jason wanted to scold her for putting so much trust in a stranger blindly as she followed him, after all this was Gotham but he just silently thanked that it was him who got to her instead of some creep. Jason led her to the Garden Café right next to where his flat was.

It might’ve been one of the only places in Gotham that wasn’t completely littered with garbage. It had beautiful flowers and an outdoor patio where patrons could eat. Jason lead Marinette to an empty black table and pulled out a metal chair for her. “Merci!” Marinette smiled, “Thank you, I mean.” Jason made the connection, “So are you from France?” Marinette nodded, “Yes, Paris actually.” Jason nodded, “What's it like there?” Marinette sighed, “Well aside from the terrorist, it’s beautiful and a great place to live.” Jason didn’t even had a drink yet but if he did, he would’ve spit it out right on the spot. “Did you just say terrorist?”

“Um yes, I assumed it was common knowledge. I mean I know Ladybug reached out to the Justice League many times…” Jason gritted his teeth, the damn Justice League. His father’s call no doubt.

“So whos Ladybug?” Marinette pondered what to tell the man across from her, on the one hand, he was the only kind one to her, but she didn’t want to accidentally give away her identity. “She along with Chat Noir, are magical heroes who wield jewels that give them power. Hawkmoth, the terrorist, wants them, because with them he can make a wish and have absolute power.” Jason's eyes widened, sure her story seemed like a poorly written children’s TV show but from the little time he’d known Marinette he’d figured a lot out about her, and he trusted that she wasn’t a liar. And wasn’t a very good one at that. Living with the world’s greatest detective, as much as Jason hated to admit it, did have some perks, Jason could read people without knowing them for long.

“I guess it’s not ideal to escape a terrorist and end up in the crime capital of the world though,” Jason said, he couldn’t imagine why anyone would rather be in Gotham than anywhere else. Marinette hadn’t known it was the crime capital of the world, she wondered why Kaaliki’s voyage sent her there. Maybe she was meant to resume being a hero in Gotham?

“Y-yeah.” Was all Marinette could stammer out. Talking to Jason made her realize so many things she had to do, she hadn’t had much time to think about what it could be like living in another country. She didn’t even have a place to stay yet!

“I know this might be a touchy subject, but...how’d you get those bruises Buttercup?” Marinette touched her hand to her face and ran her fingers down one of the scars. “H-Hawkmoth.” At least it wasn’t a complete lie. She saw Jason clench his fists.

Jason was seething, he couldn’t believe the league would ignore this! One look at this girl would prove that they should’ve listened. If Jason was still aligned with Bruce he would’ve had some choice words with him, instead he decided that he’d notify Dick and possibly the Outlaws the next time he saw them. Jason couldn’t help but feel awful for the girl, he knew what it was like to feel like you couldn’t escape the clutches of a madman. He’d lost a bit of soul to Joker. He wanted to run his fingers down all of her scars and just make everything better, she didn’t deserve that kind of torment. If anything, he did.

“Say Buttercup, where are you staying?” Jason asked before the waiter came to take their orders. Marinette answered the waiter with a simple sandwich and Jason ordered the same. “Um well...I don’t really know yet,” she responded to his previous question.

Unacceptable, she was staying with him now. “How about you come back with me Buttercup. I know we just met, but I don’t want you sleeping on the streets. Gotham is dangerous.” Marinette blushed, just now noticing the nickname he gave her. “I couldn’t do that to you!” She protested.

“It’s not a problem, Buttercup, really.” Marinette sighed, she felt grateful for Jason. Maybe she was being too trusting, but she had no other options. “As long as you let me pay you something.” Jason thought about it, he didn’t want to put this poor girl out but then he realized,

“I think there's a way we can help each other.”

#Of Roommates and Red Heroes #Jasonette #Maribat #miraculous fanfic #LadyArrow

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callmeunstable · 4 years

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Angels & Demons - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Characters: Reader, Godling, Healer

Summary: She finds herself in the middle of a unknown forest after falling asleep. It seems like a normal forest until she gets to meet a mystical creature that welcomes her in a different world.

Warnings: Monsters, Cursing, Blood

Words: 2.000+

A/N: Hey! This is the second part of my The Witcher Fic. I accidentally deleted this part so I had to reupload ot. Yes I cried, but thankfully I still had the draft saved on my laptop.

Disclaimer: GIF’s and PNG’s are taken from Tumblr and are not mine! Credits to the creators!

Tags: @marvelbrat @charliestuff

Song: I couldn’t find the original one sooo

Absently, Alva wondered if most of the monsters were meant to be as beautiful and kind as James, or if this one was an exception to the rule, her mind struggled to hold on to one thought, with a whole new world opening in front of her.

“I know the healer of the village on the other side of the forest. She’s nice. She brings fruits to me from time to time. She will help you.” James hopped in front of her leading the way out of the woods.

She couldn’t believe anything her eyes captured. There are bad creatures. According to the Godling, there are a lot of them. The boy explained to her, that “Drowners” inhabit both natural and artificial bodies of water, from rivers and lakes to mill ponds and city sewers. It is commonly thought that these creatures are drowned men, somehow arisen from the dead to prey on the living. This opinion is as widespread as it is false, for the beasts are another post-Conjunction relict.

She couldn’t believe that this Godling just was a boy but knowing such crucial things about this life. She remembered James talking about the powers he has, that’s how he was able to save her.

“Hey, play some more of your music, please? I love the sound of it and we have to walk some time.” The Godling begged and gave his best puppy face.

She grabbed her phone and she had an idea. Maybe she was able to call or text her dad? Letting him know she’s okay. She wasn’t sure if this was the best idea she ever had, but still better than making him believe she was dead.

No signal. Of course.

“Music, please.”

She pressed the icons on her phone monotonously and a random song started playing.

“Oh dear, oh dear, I’m sorry

That you grew up so soon

A cold year and no high school parties

I’ve been drinking alone

Oh, I’ve been drinking alone”

“A blessing to my ears. What's the name of this bard?” The Godling started dancing along while walking in front of the girl.

“What is a bard?” These questions came automatically out of her mouth, wanting to know everything about this world.

Knowledge is power. Even in a world like this. If she knows what she has to be careful about, she can start to protect herself.

“You know the man and women writing songs and these lovely texts of legends, stories of their personal experiences, or their imaginations. I don’t care what they are about. I care about the melodies. I love the tunes.” James seemed to drift off in a state where he was admiring the artists and musicians at this time the whole way out of the woods.

He specifically talked about a Bard called Priscilla. A young woman famous for her poetry.

“So, don't fear, don’t fear their warnings

They’re bitterer than most

4 years of driving across the country

For empty seats at their shows

And they’ve been drinking alone.”

Less and fewer trees came along their way and after some more minutes, a village became visible. Still far away but the girl decided to turn off the music which was rewarded with an angry look of the Godling.

“Her cottage isn’t in the village. It's right here!”

He took a sharp turn between some trees and as told, a small cabin was revealed in front of them. It was old. Looked like a typical middle-aged, self-made cottage. Random kinds of stones were piled upon each other, connected by something that seemed to be a kind of cement. A small chimney was built on top and was busy blowing smoke out of it.

“Savilla! I want to show you, my new friend.” The boy shouted and Alva begged it was quiet enough so no one around could hear them. She wasn’t ready to meet anyone in this world, at least for now.

The old wooden door of the cottage opened and a middle-aged woman stepped out of the house. She was beautiful. Her Long black hair was braided down to the small waist of hers. Her long dress was colored with a dark wood green tone. A small V-neck covered her chest mostly and the butterfly sleeves made her look like a princess. A less fancy princess but a gorgeous one.

“Hello, my lovely James. How can I help you today?” Savilla had a warm smile on her face and holding her arms out for e hug.

The Godling happily jumped into her arms, to just leave them a couple of seconds later to point hysterically at Alva.

“This is my friend Alva. She got lost in my forest and a Drowner hit her. I think shes not from hear so she needs your help.”

Savilla laid her eyes on the small girl for the first time. Silently analyzing every single part of her. At this moment Alva realized that she was a unicorn in this world. Her clothes looked completely different from Safillas and James’. She was wearing a red lumberjacket that revealed her sports bra. Some pair of sporty leggings rested on her legs and short sneakers tied on her feet. Her favorite outfit for hiking. At least her fake leather bag seemed to fit the surroundings.

It wasn’t hard to tell that if the person in front of her wasn’t a cosplayer of Lord of the Rings, she had to be stuck in some kind of middle age century.

“Yes, she's not from here. I can tell.” The firm look of the women changed into a friendly smile. “Come in, I think it’s the best if no one sees you like this.”

Both Alva and James entered the cabin. Inside it was beautiful. Flower and herbs were growing every in countless pottery. An out of stone made kitchen area filled the rest of the room with a cozy fireplace at the opposite wall. Different kinds of fabric and papers stuck to the wall. It was filled with colors and smells that made you feel instantly relaxed, at least if you’re a person like Alva.

“You don’t seem to be in a lot of pain.”, stated Safilla while grabbing a wooden chair and placing it in front of her, guiding her to sit down.

“It’s pretty numb right now. It was worse about an hour ago.” Alva tried to give off a normal impression. But what is normal in this world.

er “That what I was inferred already. You seem to be in shock. Your body numbed itself to protect you from the pain.” While investigating the big scratch she explaining typical injuries caused by Drowners.

“You’re lucky that you had James by your side. He’s a loyal soul.” The healer tossed an apple to the boy who caught it happily.

Savilla mixed some unfamiliar herbs and bandaged it up with a clean cloth.

“It should heal fast, it's not a deep cut. You are lucky.”

The women put everything back in place and then grabbed a stool herself.

“Where are you from?”, she asked.

Where was she from actually? Maybe similar countries still exist?

“Originally my family comes from Sweden but I live in the USA at the moment.” The girl explained but ended up not receiving the reaction she wanted.

“I never heard of a place like that. I traveled a lot through Cintra, Temeria, and Lyria. How did you end up here?”

The girl got quiet. She didn’t want to cause any trouble. She was a stranger to this world. How much corruption was she able to cause?

Alva felt a hand on her shoulder. Savilla gently pat her and gave her a motherly smile.

“Look dear, I’m not here to hurt you. I can see you disturbed, even traumatized. You have no idea how you got access to this world, have you?”

The girl started to tear up and found herself in a warm hug of the healer. She couldn’t help herself but at this moment everything that was built up throughout the day suddenly burst out of her.

Every breath felt like acid burning heart throat, inflaming her lungs. Her heart felt like somebody was squeezing out every single emotion trapped in there. Like a sharp blade that is cutting straight through her chest.

“Mark my words, one day will come when you finally realize that fate is inevitable. One day you will get passed all this pain and realize it was a lesson learned for a better future, for a better you. You believe that this was an accident. But in our world, everything happens for a reason.” Savilla didn’t break the contact because she knew that this girl needed it. This wasn’t the first time something like this happened. The same happened decades ago. When the monsters first got into this dimension.

“I can teach you if you let me.”

Alva lifted her head and looked at the healer.

“I can teach you how to survive in this world until we figure it a way how to get you back. You just need to let me help you.”

“How do you know?” The girl was confused, more confused than she was, to begin with. How much does this woman know?

“This is not the first time a portal opened on accident. What we need to figure out is, if this indeed was an accident or if you have a mission you have to fulfill. I will help you. That’s my duty. Let me explain. I’m a mage.”

Savilla explained to Alva that mages are basically what she knows as a witch. Only rare individuals have the potential to become mages and many of those with this potential are doomed to madness. Unless the individual in question - known as a source - learns to control their power quickly, he or she may end up a half-insane, slobbering oracle. That is why schools of sorcery were created, where talented children study for many years, acquiring knowledge and mastering magical skills. Because of their powers, mages age more slowly than ordinary people. Savilla herself attended a school called Aretuza. But she didn’t believe in their morals so she left and lives on her own.

Mages can extract magical energy from the four elements, transport themselves long distances and heal, as well as kill, in the blink of an eye. They have extensive scientific and political knowledge; in the latter respect, many mages are the equals of rulers.

A witch that is connected so some kind of rule book.

“Know you know about me, but for now we need to get you out of your clothes. They reveal your true identity. There are people out there who will view you as dangerous and they’ll get scared. We need to give you a new persona. But for now, let’s start easy. No one will look for you because James took care of that. New clothes will at least give you the appearance of our dimension.”

Savilla walked in a different room and you could her searching sounds. Fabrics got thrown around after her steps came closer again.

As she walked into the room she showed off a dress similar to hers. The dress was white and it had some floral symbols embroidered in the fabric. Her sleeves were also long and wide, almost touching the ground. The White of the dress was mostly protected by a moss green light coat that had a corset on the front. The white dress was strapless but unseen due to the green coat. On top of that Savilla brought her some flat sandals.

“I can give you some pants to wear underneath the dress if you’d like. Is more efficient when you have to move quickly.” The mage was happy she could assist that young girl. She finally had a purpose to assist to.

Alva only nodded along, speechless by the kindness the woman was offering her.

Savilla walked up to her with a hairbrush and put her hair into different styles. “And maybe we can do something with your hair, putting it up or braid-“, she hesitated the moment when she was putting her hair up. “I think it looks fitting already.”

Quickly brushing Alva's hair down again.

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semi-imaginary-place · 4 years

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more random death stranding thoughts

finally back to death stranding. the whole BB thing is real disturbing also where's everyone getting their food from??? if its grown below ground that a lot of energy needed.

also been analyzing the map and while some seem like actual cities dc and la. theres also one in yellowstone???? theres denver and then theres some mountain in volorado ? and the middle of nowhere in south dakota wat

hey... death stranding... why is oxytocin an essential

Yeah was thinking about oxytocin being labeled an essential... how many people live in some of the places sam visits. They're called cities but what does "city" mean in the post apocalypse? Some of the points really do seem like one person or a small family. Doesn't help that i mistook oxytocin as oxycontin for the first couple hours. It made sense in my head since delivering painkillers (abit highly addictive narcotics) to a terminally ill patient makes some sense. But yeah oxytocin is involved with social bonding and regulating that whole thing in yer brain. The fact that everyone is on it to functiom is kinda yikes though

i have... questions

ok this might just be me but im getting the impression that death strandings art director really wanted the game to be set in iceland instead of america. the music... the lanscapes...

why doesn't everyone in death stranding dress like bloodborne characters. shares the same purpose: stop direct contact with skin

does snow count as timefall??

the one thing ive learned from death stranding is that you should never get pregnant or know anyone who is pregnant. bad things happen to pregnant people in this world

ok... so its alleles that are selected for not genes... and that not what an evodevo biologist does. evodevo is reference to how evolutionary patterns are often mirrored in developmental ones. like if you look at the fetus of any mammal early enough they all look the same. and if you go back further in developmental time all mammal fetuses will also resemble bird and croc fetuses, back to the last common ancestor. and if you go back even further in a fetuses development, all vertebrates are indistinguishable to the untrained eye. so yeah at some point you looked the same as a zebra fish (which is part of why they are used often, also easy to care for and fast generation time). oh and humans grow tails and then loose them. this of course is also mirrored in an organisms gene expression patterns. if you map out gene expression over time and compare that across species, it moves with he evolution of genes in that lineage. take for example hox genes are how they control body planning

you get a bro bonding moment with higgs of all people...

ahhhh the classic this doesn't make sense at the end part. Ok so why did fragile have to transport 3 people back east give she says next that its too dangerous to warp sam there. I mean thematically its so you have to retread your entire journey and end where you started, but wow does this feel forced. also did die hardman cliff and amelie just chill for like 3 days on the beach (or however long that is in beach time since it seems to move faster???)

Wish you got the option to kick higgs while he's down. Bring a gun to a fistfight (and still lose)

Amelie has a bunch of names too! Amelie, Samantha America Strand, Amerigo. at the beginning I was like "what idiot names both their children Sam, oh right the president of the united cities of america, that's who"

oh. huh. i thought it was weird that Amelie never aged...

its after an extinction event not before. post extinctions you tend to see massive adaptive radiations to fill in empty niches. but that happens in response to an extinction event. not before one. Also its just damned hard kill bacteria and archea like just really really hard to get rid of absolutely 100% of them. a lot of speciation events yeah. but its after

what is happening

oh no a kojima game has confused me uwu this has never ever happened before

a good scene

ok so a pediatrician and other health workers should always be on site for a preemie. if BB's are stalled at 28 weeks then that's about 7 month old, Lou's admittedly a little weird but the devs didn't change Lou's model. You should absolutely not take any baby out in the rain without insulation and protection. we you are that small its hard to regulated body temperature. Also babies cant move their heads until a could weeks and they certainly don't have the strength to push themselves up like lou did until much later

I guess that concludes hideo kojima’s norman reedus mpreg piss simulator....

In all seriousness I really like this. Its thematically cohesive which is a big personal preference of mine. The game did trick me into thinking there were branching endings. Linear games are underrated and Death Stranding definitely stuck its landing.

Also, the whole twist that Amelie isn’t Bridget Strand’s daughter because she had uterine cancer is bullshit, have you never heard of adoption???

#death stranding #kojimas twisted mind

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gentlemanmendes · 5 years

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First times:

A/n: series of simple first times that are cute little scenarios I guess. I hopefully will make a part 2 but no promises.

Cooking together for the first time:

"Shawn you're not supposed to put the," y/n began but cut herself off with laughter as Shawn carelessly ignored her and continued melting the butter on the stove.

He was going to learn the hard way what happens when you melt way too much butter on the stove while making pancakes.

"Don't worry babe I got this." He reassured her as he cut yet more butter and added to the now melted pool of it in the frypan.

"I'm regretting suggesting pancakes for dinner now." Y/n laughed although she knew she didn't regret it.

She was having more fun now than she would have watching a movie. They had some playlist blasting in the background and were dancing around like crazy.

She didn't care that her hair was a mess from the lazy day she had shared with Shawn or that there was batter and flour everywhere thanks to Shawn putting the electric mixer on high.

Shawn poured some batter into the pan after y/n had poured the excess butter into a measuring cup for later.

"Do you think I can flip it the way spongebob flips krabby patties?" He wondered as he played around with the spatular while waiting for the pancake to bubble so he could flip it over like the recipe said.

Y/n liked this side of him. She hadn't seen it before due to the fact that he was always so stressed out or tired due to his busy schedule. For the first time she was able to really see him and spend time with him while he was at ease and she loved it.

"Don't you dare!" She warned but it was no use.

She moved out of the way but it was too late. Shawn had flipped the pancake but failed miserably and the uncooked side of the pancake landed on y/n.

Before she could grasp what had happened she heard shawn's booming laugh fill the air over the music causing her to playfully glare at him but she couldn't help laugh along with him.

Giving each other a knowing look for the first time:

To say y/n was bored out of her mind would be an understatement.

When Shawn had said a house warming party she had thought a mixer where she could dance, laugh, and meet new people. But that's not what this was. It was a group of ten people max who had absolutely nothing in common and an awkward and forced tension filled the air.

She saw Shawn on the other side of the room being polite and smiling to the stranger he was talking to but she knew him well enough to know that he was just as miserable here as she was.

She waited until she caught his attention not even bothering to fake listen to the person next to her as she gave him a knowing look as if pleading to leave which he seemed to be mirroring. Without a second though she excused herself Shawn soon following hot on her tracks.

When you gossip about your friends the whole ride home for the first time:

The car was dead silent but after the dinner they just had it was almost understandable. Both were in Shock by the way their friend had carried on the whole night. It was not only embarrassing but annoying which was why they had lied about needing to leave early.

Shawn slowed as they approached a red light and let out a long, dragged out sigh.

"Is it just me or was (random friends name) being...." Shawn broke the silence first only to have y/n cut him off.

"A real bitch, yes!" She huffed out in it retraction disgusted by how her friend could act in such a way especially in front of so many other people, her boyfriend included. Shawn laughed in response as he sped off when the light switched to green.

"I wasn't sure how to put it in an appropriate way but I'm glad you agree." He couldn't help but feel relived that his girlfriend agreed.

"She was! I've never seen her act that way before. It's probably because her boyfriend cheated on her with her sister, she's in an I hate everyone mood now." Y/n was not impressed not was she going to excuse her friends behaviour. She would never dare say this kind of stuff to anyone else but she knew she could trust Shawn not to say anything.

"I'm going to be honest I don't blame the guy if that's how she behaves, I feel sorry for him." Shawn laughed and although she knew he was just joking she agreed one hundred percent.

"Right!" She hollered in agreement causing them both to burst out in a fit of laughter.

The first time you get hooked on a tv show together:

"Shhh, this is a good part." Y/n hissed as she put another handful of popcorn into her mouth, her eyes glued to the screen as if breaking contact would end her life.

"Wait. How do you know this is a good part?" Shawn pondered suspiciously cussing y/n's eyes to widen in alarm.

How could she have been so careless with her actions?

She should have just kept quite.

"Did you watch it without me?" Shawn gasps horrified causing y/n to laugh guilty.

"No, no, I promise I didn't. I just saw spoiler on line and one spoiler led to another and then..." She trailed off sheepishly knowing she shouldn't have because she and Shawn had made a pact to not to watch an episode without each other.

"Wow, I'm honestly so hurt right now. I feel betrayed." He responded truthfully causing y/n to continue to give a guilty laugh in response.

"No baby I'm sorry, it was a mistake. I swear it will never happen again." Y/n attempted to defend herself lamely.

"I swear it would have hurt less if you cheated on me. This, this was just going too far." Y/n rolled her eyes in response knowing that Shawn was now just being overdramatic.

"Oh hush, you're missing it." She dismissed him effortlessly.

First time you stay up all night together:

"I really wanted to explore the city." Y/n sighed longingly as she looked out of the window of their hotel room.

The view that lay before her was almost a tease as if rubbing it in her face that they wouldn't get to go out and see the foreign city that was a dream come true for y/n to visit.

It was late and they had an early start tomorrow so she would have to simply suck it up and wait until the next day Shawn had off on tour but with his busy schedule who knew when that would be. She wouldn't be with Shawn on tour for much longer and seeing how his schedule was always so jam packed she didn't like the odds she was facing.

She had to suck it up though. She should be grateful that she was here and with Shawn.

"Then let's do it." Shawn said pushing himself off of the bed that he had slammed himself on just mere moments before.

"Pardon?" Y/n chuckled in bafflement not quite sure she had heard her boyfriend correctly.

That was until she saw him standing up right in front of her pulling on his jacket getting ready to walk out the door.

"You want to see the city, let's do it." He shrugged as if it were nothing causing y/n's insides to both melt and tighten.

He was willing to give up the few hours of peace and quite he had to relax just to make her happy, she wasn't sure whether to fall more in love with him or to feel guilty for making him choose her needs over his.

"No Shawn it's fine, you have an early start tomorrow." She sighed in defence.

No matter how much she wanted to go out she wouldn't allow him to sacrifice his minimal relaxing time for her.

"let's go." Was shawn's response determination written all over his features letting y/n know he wasn't giving this up.

She should have just kept quite but an annoying selfish part of her was glad to have this time to make memories with Shawn.

"Fine." She gave in unable to hide the smile that made its way onto her face as she took Shawn's extended hand and allowed him to pull her out the door.

"Only a few streets though, then we come back." Y/n declared.

Oh what a lie that had been.

Hours and hours passed as the wondered the streets; popping in and out of Cafes trying new things, running through the streets like children, taking silly photos of one another not caring if they were blurry or bad quality because of the dark.

By the time they realised they were lost and on the other side of the city dawn had struck. As they climbed into the taxi instead of giving the driver the name of the hotel Shawn asked for the best place to watch the sunrise.

The first time you do something you hate just because they asked you to:

"Well."y/n bit down on her lip nervously as she stepped in front of Shawn waiting for his honest opinion which was what he was giving her knowing that y/n would get mad if he lied or didn't show interest.

Like most guys Shawn hated shopping but when y/n had asked him to go because she needed a dress to a relatives wedding and her friend had bailed on her in the last minute. He hated seeing her upset and had offered to go with her before he could think it through.

Now here they were in the third store with y/n trying on yet another dress, standing before him sheepishly as if she were nervous to get his opinion.

"I think the colour washes you out." He noted causing y/n to nod in agreement.

"I was wondering why it felt off." She sighed the look on her face as she assessed herself in the mirror letting Shawn know she was just as over this whole thing as he was. "Just one more." She reassured him before stepping back into the change room.

Shawn let out a long sigh leaning back in his chair as he waited. He didn't understand why girls loved shopping so much, it was a nightmare. Walking around and looking at a million and one different stores for hours on end made his feet hurt, his tummy growl, and most of all sweat like he was hitting the treadmill at the gym.

He had been looking forward to having a day off but somehow being here with y/n had felt like a priority. Almost like a basic human instinct such as breathing. Second nature.

Letting out an exaggerated puff Shawn stretched his legs out as his butt and back began to hurt, these chairs were not designed to sit people his size that was for sure.

"If you don't like this one I'm just gonna call the quits." Y/n's voice came closer causing him to look over to her and as he did the words that played on the tip of his tongue evaporated as every thought in his mind disappear while his eyes raked up and down her body.

She look absolutely stunning without even trying. It wasn't just the dress although the dress fit her perfectly, it was the way she nervously shifted her weight from one leg to the other, the fact that she had taken off her converse showing off her teddy bear socks without a care in the world, how she bit down on her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes as she assessed her reflection in concentration, how her hair was lazily swept to one side so it would be in the way.

All these small, little, pointless things made her, they made y/n perfect in his eyes. The little traits he hadn't realised he had taken note of until this very moment. As he watched her he felt his heart rate rise as if he were looking at her for the first time all over again.

"I like this one." She said with determination and a nod of her head in finalisation. Turing to Shans she gave him an expectant look as if awaiting an answer.

"You're perfection." He breathed out in awe causing a small, shy, smile to take place on her features as she turned her attention to the ground and mumbled something about needing to get changed before walking back towards the change room.

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jasontoddiefor · 5 years

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Title: When in Gotham, do as Batman does

Summary: Desmond Miles, the mentor of Gotham, and Batman have a serious discussion. (Meanwhile, Robin shows the little Novice accompanying their local Assassin how to do the coolest flips.)

AN: AssCreed/Batman Crossover for the 2nd day of AssCreed Week - Assassin Brotherhood.

Desmond loved Gotham. It was like Florence or Venice or Rome, except better because it was his city. You could tell that it had been built on the bodies of Templars and Assassins alike, particularly the Assassin influence was hard to miss if you had their training. Every corner was easy to disappear into, the buildings were high and the houses crammed into each other to create one fast-paced track for rooftop chasers. Not to mention the abandoned underground railroad tracks or the catacombs sleeping even deeper below. Gotham was built for its shadowy protectors and took good care to hide them all away.

Shaun and Becca had declared him officially mad for settling in this city. He could have gone everywhere in the world. Assassins as skilled as Desmond were hard to come by and currently needed all around the globe.

But Desmond had died for their cause once already (and then been fished out of terror-filled green pits of screaming nails on blackboards) and so they had allowed him to pick.

And Desmond had chosen Gotham.

Or maybe the city had chosen him.

People didn’t really move to Gotham, Desmond had noticed. Nor did they ever leave despite having the funds or the motivation. They cursed and screeched and begged, but they never went further than a vacation away.

And some people didn’t leave at all.

It was a moderately warm September night still. They had been blessed with a warm summer, and its remnants were still chasing through the winds, rolling in-between the skyscrapers. Gotham’s chaos had been calm lately. It was only a question of time until the first Rogue broke out of Arkham again, but right now everything was still. It was one of those nights in which they actually had time to look out for the candles and the flashlights asking for their help. Desmond had sent most of his recruits out for training, errands and information gathering. Maybe also a little blackmail depending on how they brave they got tonight. Instead of supervising from their headquarters, Desmond had chosen to take their youngest recruit out. Though Jason, by all means, wasn’t really a recruit as much as he was a kid that had realized the city’s Thief guild might support him on the streets, but the Brotherhood could get him away from them.

Or as away from them as Jason wanted to be.

He’d seen Desmond teach the Novices how to do a Leap of Faith and that was it. He hadn’t stopped pestering Desmond about teaching him, even at the bar where minors definitely weren’t allowed in, until Desmond had agreed. Jason wouldn’t stop arguing that Robin couldn’t have been much older than Jason either when he had started tailing the Bat. However, Jason also didn’t know that Robin had been trained to be an acrobat (and unknowingly an assassin) from birth.

Desmond knew because he had made it his business to know what was going on in his city.

The identities of its brightest protectors were simply a part of that. Batman had been here before Desmond, had bled for this city. Sure, Desmond could argue he had died for the whole world, but at sixteen he had run away from it all, unlike Bruce Wayne, who had already known his destiny then.

This was also the reason why Desmond’s Brotherhood didn’t kill. He respected Batman’s code as the superior rule. Even law enforcement worked with him while they certainly didn’t know about the Brotherhood.

(Well, they did to an extent. You couldn’t miss the spray-painted As that had shown up all over the city, but the police thought those belonged to a random tagger or, at worst, a gang.)

It was another matter that had his out of town Assassin contacts roll their eyes and bite their cheeks at. Desmond had no problems with assassinations. He was freakishly alright with them so much that he wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out the Isu had engineered him that way.

However, their Brotherhood’s no-kill rule was the only reason the Bat tolerated their presence. Maybe the fact that they had quietly gotten rid of the Court of Owls had contributed as well. It wasn’t murder if you cryogenically froze them to be picked up by the Justice League later on.

The Gotham Brotherhood didn’t kill. It made them child-friendly enough that Desmond had given in to Jason’s demands and let the eleven-year-old become his protégé.

And so here they were, standing on a rooftop and waiting for the Bat to drop in.

“How much longer do we gotta wait?” Jason asked.

After tonight, Desmond would work on the boy’s situational awareness. He remembered a few games Ezio used to play with his recruits and their children to teach them how to observe. They also had the neat side-effect of detecting whether someone was predisposed for eagle vision. Desmond thought he had seen Jason’s eyes flash gold once or twice, the speed at which he managed to track down people certainly spoke for it, but he couldn’t be sure.

He knew Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson both had the gift though, and that Wayne was aware of it. You didn’t train with an old splinter group of the Brotherhood for years to be ignorant of eagle vision.

“Mask on, kiddo?” Desmond asked instead, studying the shadows to their right that had become just a little too dense.

He had felt ridiculous the first time he had put on a mask, he didn’t need one to obscure his face, but masks made people think of vigilantes, and it was better to be mistaken for those (and honestly in these times the border between Assassin and Vigilante had become thin) than be known as the Brotherhood. Gotham was mostly Templar free and Desmond would like to keep to this way. He didn’t need their attention, not when his people weren’t strong enough yet. Nowadays, Desmond was used to the weight of the mask covering his eyes. He had grown fond of the red and gold Venetian Rebecca had bought him as a joke.

“Never took it off.”

Desmond smiled. “Good.”

Then he turned back to the shadows. “Hello, Batman. Robin.”

Behind him he could feel Jason tense, looking around to spot the vigilantes Desmond had already identified.

“Mentor,” Batman greeted him and finally stepped forward, Robin following him easily, being just a step behind.

“Oooh, who is that?” The Boy Wonder asked, mustering Jason.

“My protégé. Don’t take him too far, please, he’s untrained still.”

“What do you mean ‘don’t take him too far’?” Jason asked, but Robin had already crossed the distance eagerly.

Desmond wasn’t sure whether Batman took Robin along to these meetings precisely to have him distract the companion Desmond had chosen to take with him or if Robin really was just that sociable. The Bat’s intentions were hard enough to read on the really good days and Desmond had better things to do than waste hours on that particular headache.

Within seconds Robin was talking with Jason, contributing most of the conversation, while Jason nodded at the right moments, his eyes never entirely leaving Desmond.

“He’s young.”

Batman too was observing the boys’ interaction. He had his arms crossed over his chest, suggesting a relaxed posture, but his shoulders were tensed.

“I have questions about Abstergo, Desmond Miles. And about those you call Isu.”

Desmond sighed. He had wondered how long it would take Batman to actually figure out his identity. They had pretty much erased Desmond Miles, or any other alias he had used before Abstergo had captured him, from history. By all means, Desmond was a ghost. But apparently, even death couldn’t keep the world’s greatest detective away.

“Alright, Mr. Wayne,” Desmond replied. “But does that mean I can take a look at the Piece of Eden you keep at your manor in turn? I don’t want to criticize, but these things really shouldn’t be handled by someone without experience.”

Batman fell silent. On the rooftop next to them, Jason was shouting in joy while Robin performed his quadruple flip for him. He should watch that jump. It was common knowledge, at least for those interested in acrobatics, that not many people could perform it – Gotham’s resident prince Dick Grayson being by far the youngest person. It was even on his Wikipedia page.

“And you have that experience?”

Desmond tugged at his hoodie’s right sleeve, revealing his black glove first, and then his burned arm beneath. The golden circuitry was shining brightly in the dark. Once he stopped using eagle vision, it would return to a muted yellow you could mistake for tattoo ink.

“You’re standing in front of the world’s expert on these cursed artifacts.”

His smile was weary, but there was no point in lying. Ever since his death, Desmond had been able to feel these remains of Eden if he got close enough to them. They didn’t make him uncomfortable, but he could almost tell what each piece had been crafted for, and the thought of letting them lie around left to their own devices was fear-inspiring.

“We have much to discuss. I’ll contact you. Robin.”

Across, Robin perked up and moved from his handstand into a bridge and then into a stand. Batman waited just long enough for Robin to plunge into a print and jump over the gaps between the rooftops before he too leaped away into the alley on their right.

Jason wasn’t far behind Robin, crossing the space between houses without hesitating. Whatever Robin had demonstrated or told him, its effects were already showing.

“You done already?” Jason asked.

“Mhm. Why are you asking?”

Jason clicked his tongue and shot Desmond an annoyed look. “Nothin’s true. I should ask questions.”

“I taught you that sentence,” Desmond replied and began to walk into the direction of tonight’s second destination. He’d drop Jason back home on the way. Sure, the kid had seen much already, experienced too much for his age, but Desmond wasn’t going to take a ten-year-old to the Foxglove. Not even for information gathering. “And I’m sure it definitely had nothing to do with Robin.”

“Oh, c’ mon, D. It’s Robin. He’s the coolest. So you gotta tell me what you talked about ’cause he was gonna teach me how to do the neat flip.”

“I’m sure you’ll get another chance to learn from him. Batman just asked for some credentials.”

“Credentials? That can’t be everythin’. Come oooon, tell me. Tell me, tell me, please. You know I can do this all night and day.”

Desmond didn’t doubt him, he knew better. Jason’s presence at his side was proof of that.

“I know. You showed me that you had endurance and now you’ll learn patience.”

“What? You can’t be serious! Des- hey!”

Desmond chose that moment to jump from the balcony into the dumpster beneath. The smell of these containers really made him miss the haystacks of his ancestors.

“Patience, Novice,” Desmond repeated.

Batman would tell him soon enough when he wanted to meet up. You couldn’t shake off Batman once you had his attention.

(And true enough, he got an invitation to Wayne manor a week later. He didn’t dwell on the fact that Batman knew where he lived. It was only fair.)

#dc #dc comics #batman #desmond miles #asscreed #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #fanfic #asscreedevents19

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mobscene-london · 4 years

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BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Sofia Kurylenko-Plushenko. AGE: 29. PLACE OF BIRTH: Launceston, Massachusetts, United States. AFFILIATION: The Russian Mob. OCCUPATION: Medical Resident (Emergency Medicine) FACE CLAIM: Nina Dobrev. AVAILABILITY: TAKEN.

BIOGRAPHY:

The nine years spent in Vladivostok had been all but rewritten when Sofia Kurylenko moved back to Launceston, yet, although she was the only daughter of a once-prominent Russian patriarch, her time away had hardly been enough to erase her father’s sins from the minds of his enemies.

The horrors of the city had been previously unknown to the ‘Russian Princess’ before her return, but even in the first weeks following her arrival, it was more than evident that her life here would be full of more challenges than that of the average young woman. The target that had been painted on her back long ago threatened her existence daily, and although she’d been brought to the brink of death more than a single time, Sofia Kurylenko had proven to the city that she was not willing to abandon the place that she’d always considered her home.

The feeling that Launceston was, indeed, her home, was solidified not only by the memories that it held of her dearly departed father, but of the family that she’d seemingly been re-introduced to in young adulthood; her memories of her aunts, uncles, and cousins were far different than the reality of knowing them. It was more difficult now: being faced with the horrors they masked as their ‘businesses’ directly compromised the things she believed so deeply in, although Sofia continued to love them from arm’s length, the only way she knew how. This knowledge, however, eventually became a driving factor in her decision to fulfill her lifelong dream: becoming a doctor.

There had been more to her life in Launceston that had convinced the Russian to remain in a city filled with such evil. The friendships she’d formed had quickly blossomed into relationships that were far more reminiscent of blood relatives than individuals from opposing sides of the war they were all caught in. Aside from friendships, the relationship that had developed between herself and her assigned bodyguard, Aaron Plushenko, was something that everyone had become envious of. The love that the two shared for one another was something to be rivaled only by tales in a storybook, although the journey to the altar was far from a fairytale. Despite their eventual separation, they welcomed a son that proved the end of their time apart; Andrew was the next era of Kurylenko blood, and both his parents were more than aware of what that would mean for his life in the future.

The most notable threat to the Russian’s little family had always been Alessia Auditore, who had long proven that the vendetta she’d had with Anatoly had not been settled after his death. Sofia had been the object of her fury more than once, yet following the Russian’s attack on the Auditore family that Easter afternoon, it became overwhelmingly clear that the stakes were higher than she’d previously imagined. There was an unspoken bounty on the heads of all Kurylenko family members, and they were picked off, one by one.

The wisest decision that Sofia could’ve made was to leave with her family under the cover of night. With no warning and very few goodbyes, Sofia, Aaron, and Andrew disappeared into the night, forever leaving Launceston, families, and friends behind.

The Russian was thankful that they hadn’t remained in Launceston longer than they had; the demise of the Russians wasn’t something she wanted to witness, let alone become caught up in. It took her small family quite a long time to become relaxed in their new home, far away from the violence and constant threats they’d sadly grown accustomed to. Their new home, nestled quietly in the Western Colorado mountains, was reminiscent of a postcard, and above all else, it was something that Launceston had never been: peaceful.

The new environment provided room for Sofia and Aaron to flourish in their professional lives, in their relationship, and as parents to their son. She continued the path that she’d started at a new university: now in her third year of medical school, she’d finally decided upon her specialty: emergency medicine. It was competitive, without a doubt, but the Russian found it endlessly fascinating. The fast-paced, high-pressure situations were ones that she was determined to feel comfortable in, to thrive in. Aaron, on the other hand, has taken their new environment as an invitation to change directions completely: he built, owns, and manages a restaurant in the town nearest their home. Andrew happily accompanies him after his days of first grade, and the restaurant staff has all but adopted the bouncy six-year-old as their own, much to the approval of his doting mother.

The only person outside random family members that Sofia really kept in touch with from Launceston was Veronika, her occasional visits and consistent Skype calls the only real connection she held with the people that had inhabited her former life. Upon hearing of Marcello’s death, however, their contact ceased for months, the worried Russian placing hundreds of phone calls that all went unreturned. Until, one day, the Italian called. And with the call came a request that Sofia simply couldn’t refuse. Porto Velho was never planned, but Ronnie asking Sofia to assist her in caring for her children after losing Marcello wasn’t something she was at liberty to decline. The year that they spent in Porto brought with it a range of emotions and changes between factions, however, when Ronnie decided it was best for her family to leave the city, Sofia was more than ready to return back to her family in Colorado.

Sofia had settled back into her quiet life quickly; it wasn’t long after her return that she graduated medical school and began her residency in emergency medicine – the area of study that she’d always felt the most drawn to. There had been no interruptions, no threats from her previous life, nothing that indicated that anyone knew of her existence deep in the mountains… until one day, he arrived.

Konstantin Vorshevsky and the small army of Russians that he’d brought with him had welcomed her home from an overnight shift one morning, sitting at the kitchen table with her husband and son as if he’d belonged there. His visit, however unwelcomed, was something she couldn’t protest, and the words that he spoke chilled every part of her being.

“You’ll come to London and work for me. If you choose to forego this, your son will come in your place. This family has sacrificed so much for you, Sofia. It’s time to repay your debt.”

The Plushenkos sat around their kitchen table long after the Russian mob boss had left, turning over possibilities and trying to find a way out of the position they’d now been thrust into. They thought about leaving their home, disappearing into the night once again, starting over somewhere else… but the inevitability remained that they’d be located again, quite possibly by someone that wasn’t willing to extend them any sort of courtesy.

It wasn’t long afterward that Sofia’s bags were packed, she’d said her goodbyes to her family, and left them with the few members of the new Russian mob, much to her own dismay. As the car drove her to the airport, the Russian couldn’t quiet her beating heart, truly wondering if she’d ever go back to her quiet life in the mountains, or if she was destined to always be tied to the family she’d tried so desperately to forget.

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Aaron Plushenko (husband, unplayable) FAMILY: Anatoly Kurylenko (father, deceased), Andrew Kurylenko-Plushenko (son, unplayable), Aleksandr, Elizabeth Vorshevsky (aunt and uncle, deceased), Konstantin Vorshevsky (cousin), Mila Korshunova (cousin-in-law), Larissa Vorshevsky (cousin, deceased), Yuliya, Katarina Vorshevsky (cousins, unplayable), Arkady Kurylenko (uncle), Maksim, Viktoriya Kurylenko (cousins), Pyotr, Dmitri, Vladimir Kurylenko (uncles, deceased), Sasha Kurylenko (cousin, deceased), Nina Kurylenko (cousin, unplayable) CONNECTIONS:

Veronika Auditore: Best friend. Sofia and Ronnie’s friendship seemed to have been inevitable from the first instance in which they happened upon one another. Coming from families that had been taught to hate each other, nothing about their friendship should’ve survived the stress that it had been put through, yet Sofia had followed her to Porto Velho without question to help take care of Ronnie’s children. Although they’ve both settled back into their own lives since, Sofia and Ronnie have always maintained their tight-knit friendship, even despite the miles that separate them.

Mikhail Vorshevsky: Cousin/good friend. Mikhail and Sofia had shared a bond for as long as Sofia could remember; when they were children, they played together most often, and upon her return to Launceston, Mikhail was one of the only members of the Vorshevsky family that Sofia truly trusted. She hadn’t seen her cousin since her departure from Launceston, but her expectation is that they’ll be able to pick up where they left off, as she’ll surely need the support “rejoining” the ranks of the family she’s tried so desperately to distance herself from.

Laurent St. Pierre: Friend/love of her life. During Sofia’s time in Launceston, she and Laurent hadn’t had many interactions, let alone any sort of decent relationship. The kidnapping that they’d staged to save Aurélie, however, was some sort of a turning point, and in a strange way, established some trust between the two of them. The time they’d spent together in Porto had only seemed to deepen and definitely change the relationship between the pair. It stands to be seen what the Frenchman will think of her arrival in London.

#taken #takenf #russian #sofiakurylenko #nina dobrev #thank you sarah for updating you're a gem #mobadvent

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robininthelabyrinth · 5 years

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Fic: An Internal Affair - Chapter 11 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: Leonard Snart, the CCPD Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you’re on his list, you’re in serious trouble.

His next target?

A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who’s developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.

—————————————————————————————————

Len had been having such a good day before this, too.

Allen (Barry, you should call him Barry - but not yet) was knee deep in CSI work, so he hadn't had time for a proper date, but they'd been texting and had met briefly to go for coffee once or twice and then again a couple of days later for lunch. All in nice, well-lit places that appeased Danvers.

Thawne reported that he and Iris were making some progress in their investigation of the disappearances, mostly interviewing people who'd submitted complaints that appeared Flash-related. They’d exhausted the list of people who’d complained to the CCPD and had gone to the mayor’s office to dig into the complaint archive there in case there were others.

Danvers had shaken his tree of contacts on his behalf and continued to find no evidence of Allen's corruption in relation to any Family, although his involvement with STAR Labs in some capacity was at this point undeniable.

He still hadn't gotten a warrant for STAR Labs (oh, did he ever want a warrant!), but the pile of evidence he was going to use to apply for one was growing nicely.

And then he'd come here and his world had fallen apart.

"So what's that mean?" Len asks through lips that feel like they've gone numb. "Does that mean - are you saying we gotta -"

"No, no," Dr. Callahan assures him. She's a competent-looking Latina woman in her thirties, whose usually mildly distracted air could turn into razor-sharp focus at a moment's notice. Len had picked her to be Mick's primary physician because he'd been oddly comforted by her habit of always carrying a small, thick paperback in her coat pocket. "We're nowhere near the point of needing to make end-of-life decisions."

Len nods shakily. That's good. Because if they asked him to pull the plug on Mick, he's not sure what he'd do.

Shoot himself next, maybe.

"I just wanted to be clear with you about timeline," Callahan continues, gently but firmly. "He's still well within the boundaries of a plausible coma, but given how well his burns are progressing, we're starting to get to the end of where we feel comfortable assisting with medical induction. But the more we phase it out, the less positive the signs are."

"What's that mean?" Len asks again. "Does it mean there ain't no hope of him waking up?"

"There's always hope," she says. "But this next month or so is probably crucial: he either wakes up on his own, or we have to start seriously considering the possibility that he won't wake up at all and adjusting his care accordingly. And that means discussing what might be the best care going forward, which does include end-of-life options."

Len nods dully. Mick hadn't had a DNR order on file, the idiot, but Len knew he didn't want to be one of those unfortunate creatures kept alive by machines years after all hope was extinguished.

He'd made that clear to Callahan, and that's what she was referring to: if Mick didn't wake up, they were going to talk about - to talk about -

Len's killed men before. Some women, too, if they were rotten - never children, despite a few jokes about wanting to strangle particularly loud ones.

He's never killed a friend before.

"I wanted to discuss this with you now so that you had time to get yourself ready, should the worst come to pass," Callahan says. She's sympathetic, he can tell, but she knows him well enough by now to know that he wouldn't appreciate any expressions of that sympathy. "We're going to do everything we can this month - pull out all the stops, so to speak - but in the end, it's going to be up to him."

Len nods mutely. His hand has somehow found Mick's on the bed, through no intention of his own, and he's squeezing it hard enough that his knuckles have gone white.

Callahan says some other things, more reassurance that there are still things they have to try, but he mostly tunes her out and eventually she goes away and leaves him there.

"Mick," he whispers, and his voice is scratchy. "Mick."

He hasn't really faced up to the idea of Mick not waking up. Oh, he's thrown in an "if" in his thoughts and words, but he's never really believed it.

His whole life is still centered around the belief that Mick will wake up one day: Danvers' increasingly long group chat of updates on Len's life, meant for Mick to one day read; his ridiculous crush and now possible-relationship with Allen, meant for Mick to learn of and hopefully approve...

His revenge, meant as a gift to help convince Mick to forgive him all his lies.

All dreams. All hopes.

All dust in his mouth.

He's never going to talk to Mick again. Never get the benefit of his kindness, his crass humor, his understated wisdom and insight into the human soul. Into Len's soul. He's never going to hear Mick lecture him on his health, on eating his vegetables, on not hanging out with Charlie too much. He's never -

There's still hope, Callahan said. Still hope.

He just can't see it right now.

It's a bad night.

Allen tries to text, but Len turns off his text notifications. Danvers calls, but he hangs up on her - not that that stops her from actually coming and banging on his window, but he snarls at her to go away and she does. Even Lisa calls - at Danvers' encouragement, no doubt - and Len's sense of duty as an older brother makes him pick up, but he doesn't actually say anything more than "This ain't a good time, Lise," and remaining otherwise mute.

Hearing her voice does help a little, though.

It helps enough that when Danvers shows up to escort him to work the next morning, jaw set in a manner that suggests refusal isn't an option, he agrees to go.

Work will be good, he thinks. Thinking certainly isn't doing any favors.

It doesn't work.

Len spends the morning staring down at the paperwork he's supposed to be filling out with an overwhelming feeling of despair. He knows he's doing good work, necessary work, vital work cleaning up the city police into something worthy of the name, but what good is it, really, if Mick's not going to be around to see that Len being a cop isn't actually all that bad?

When you have nothing, you still have your duty, he reminds himself, and forces himself to pick up the pen. You still have your city, which you love.

Paperwork isn't really doing it for him today, though. Necessary, yes, but he's already gone as far as he can right now - the DAs won't take any new cases out of his backlog unless he can prove something truly egregious, and there's only so many subpoenas and wiretapping warrants he can fill out.

He needs action.

That's why it's a relief when Iris sweeps into his office in the early afternoon, taking one look at him and announcing, "You look like reheated crap."

"Reheat crap often, do you?" Danvers asks grumpily from her desk. She's been stressing about him since last night; she's entitled to a bad mood. "We usually just flush it away, here."

Iris is surprised into a snort, which interrupts the entrance line she'd no doubt had lined up. "Okay," she says. "That was a good one. That was really good. A+ for both timing and delivery."

Danvers smiles a bit at that. "Captain Snart's not exactly feeling up to company right now," she adds.

"Captain Snart is right fucking here," Len says through gritted teeth.

"See?" Danvers tells Iris, who nods.

"I just need something really quick, I promise," Iris says, shifting over to speak to Len directly. "Eddie got pulled away on a precinct-wide thing going on today - something about a gorilla? I'm not sure - and I wanted to follow up on a lead that I got, but he insisted I clear it with you first. We all good?"

Len, not being an idiot, blinks slowly at her. "Funny," he says. "Nowhere in that sentence did you actually inform me of what lead you're intending on following up, where, and what you're planning on doing that Detective Thawne sent you here first."

"Damn," she says mildly. "You're sharp as a tack, aren’t you? Okay, fine. I want to go question a guy who supposedly got fired from STAR Labs right before the Particle Accelerator went live. I found his name in Mason's notes."

Mason Bridge - that was the newspaper editor from Iris' internship, the one that had been her supervisor. He'd been one of the more recent disappearances.

"I thought all his notes had disappeared along with him," Len says. "What with him being paranoid over anyone getting a glimpse at them."

"Says the hypocrite," Danvers coughs.

"So did I," Iris says, smirking at Danvers. "But then it occurred to me - after talking with Kara here, actually! - that he might've asked one of the CCPN secretaries for some help with them at some point during his career, and one of them was actually able to show me a secret nook in his office where he kept some files in the event of a fire. Sadly not all of them, but it did have this one guy's name. That's something, right?"

"That sounds like a very promising lead," Len says.

"That's what I thought!"

"What's the guy's name?"

"No way," Iris says. "I'm not telling you that; you might try to assign the follow-up to someone else. I’m tired of sitting around in the mayor’s office’s archives digging through papers; this is my only leverage to make sure that I get to go."

She's not wrong. Len appreciates that, even if it’s annoying.

"Makes sense," he says.

"So you approve?" she asks hopefully.

"Why don't you tell me why Detective Thawne wanted you to ask my permission before following up on it, first," Len says wryly, "and then we'll see?"

Iris is a positive sneak; he likes that in a person.

She makes a face at him. "Well, this individual - er - may or may not be - uh - living in the Keystone slums."

Len arches his eyebrows. "Where in the slums?"

"...near Leopold Ave."

"Ah, yes," Len says. "Now it all makes sense. I have no idea why Detective Thawne might have any hesitation about letting you go down to Murderers' Row all by your lonesome."

"...so that's a no, then," Iris concludes.

"Oh, no, I think it's a great idea," Len says. "In fact, I'll go along with you."

"What? No!" Danvers exclaims. "Are you crazy?"

"Danvers -"

"Don't you 'Danvers' me! Do you have a memory problem or something, where you can't remember that the Families are trying to kill you? Murderers' Row is prime Family territory!"

"Technically not -"

"Only because no one wants to deal with disciplining it! Just because it's too unorganized to be properly called organized crime does meant that -"

"I need to do something," Len says flatly. Something about his voice makes Danvers pause and look at him warily. "This will do just fine."

"...fine," she says. "Will you at least wear the -"

"I ain't wearing the mask to Murderers' Row," Len says, rolling his eyes. "Keystone ain't Central like that; they'd shoot me just for hiding my face."

"But -"

"No. And that's final."

"Fine!" she exclaims, crossing her arms and glaring hard enough that Len fancies that he can feel the hair on the back of his arms crisping up again. Danvers has a good glare. "But I'm coming with you."

"I don't think taking either of you is a good idea," Iris says. "Snart, you're wanted by the Families, and Danvers, listen, it's dangerous -"

"What, and it's not dangerous for you? You're literally a civilian!"

Technically, as admin staff, so is Danvers, but Len's not dumb enough to say as much.

"One person can more easily escape notice than two -"

"If by 'escape notice' you mean 'get kidnapped and sold into human trafficking,' which I suppose is one way to interpret that phrase, albeit an uncommon one," Len says dryly. "No. We all go, or I go, and those are our only options. And Danvers, if you really want to do this - which you don't have to -"

"I know that, and I'm doing it anyway," she says stubbornly.

"- then at the very least I insist you take a service weapon with you," Len continues. "I don't care if you don't like guns."

"Fine. But I get hazard pay for this!"

"Of course you get hazard pay for this," Len says.

Danvers blinks at him. "I - wasn't expecting that to actually work. I really get hazard pay?"

"Why not? This is what hazard pay was meant for."

"Can I get -" Iris starts.

"You're a consultant, it was your idea in the first place, and you're basically blackmailing us into taking you along with us by threatening to withhold the witness' name," Len points out. He likes people with spirit, but even he has reasonable limits. "No hazard pay, you take a stun gun, and if we all survive, I'll consider giving you a bonus in retrospect. And if you ever try to blackmail anyone over anything bigger than a ridealong, I’ll crush you like a gnat."

"...understood,” Iris says. “Also, a stun gun, seriously? I’m a cop’s kid; I can handle a real gun -"

"And until you can handle it to my satisfaction on a police shooting range, you take the stun gun," Len says firmly. He was a cop’s kid, too, and while he’ll allow that it typically provides some knowledge of how to use a gun, it doesn’t instill significant confidence in a person’s ability to know when not to use a gun, which is more his area of concern. "Now, we're wasting daylight. Shall we catch a ride into Keystone?"

The original taxi they catch takes them into the center of downtown, which is as close as the driver is willing to go to Murderers' Row. Len can't blame him; the area's awful at the best of times, and the times following the devastation wrought by the Particle Accelerator could hardly be considered the best of times.

"We can't walk there from here," Iris objects. "It'd take us over an hour even without factoring in Snart's crutches, and - all jokes about stupid bravery aside - I don't want to be stuck here past sundown."

"No problem," Len says. "Why'd you think I asked him to take us to the corner of Rundown Street?"

Iris glances at the street sign with a frown. "It's called Sundown Street -"

A car zooms them by at illegally high speeds, coming out of nowhere on a sharp turn, passing close enough for the wind to buffet them. It's followed a second later by another one.

If they'd been even a single step off the curve, they'd be dead.

"Like I said," Len says wryly. "Rundown Street. Otherwise known as the most popular drag racing strip inside Keystone City proper. C'mon, we're not far from the finish line - we'll be able to get one of the losers to give us a ride if we pay his loser's fee."

"Loser's fee?" Danvers asks.

"The buy-in amount," Len says. "Not too expensive, but more than most drivers can afford - but it can be waived if you're willing to bet your car as collateral."

"I get it," Iris says. "We save someone's car - and their livelihood - and they drive us wherever we want. That's...kind of cold-blooded."

"Well," Len drawls. "They do call me Captain Cold, you know."

"I bet they wouldn't if they knew how much you enjoyed it," Iris says, but she's grinning.

Their selected driver turns out to be a young African-American man on the verge of college age, who goes by the street name "Wally Wheeler", and he's incredibly grateful about them saving his car.

"I'm trying to save up money for my mom's medical treatments," he explains to a sympathetic Iris and Danvers. "I got a part-time job at first, but it didn't make enough. And I was good at this, so..."

"As long as you stick to racing," Len says. "Those sort of problems are what lead people to the Families, but if you go there, you'll get trouble you won't get out of."

"Isn't racing also illegal?" Iris asks, giving Len a look.

Len shrugs. As vices go, racing's far from the worst one to have.

"The boss is a big believer in victimless crime," Danvers tells Iris, sounding long-suffering. "He thinks it's a panacea against crimes that do have victims, like the corruption involved with and caused by Family work. Also, don't ask what he considers to be 'victimless', it'll just turn into a rant about the modern state of property insurance."

"Chattel insurance," Len mutters under his breath.

"That's not necessarily wrong, though," Wally - Len refuses to call any human being 'Wheeler' - says. "About the difference between petty law-breaking like drag-racing and, well, worse stuff than that. I know lots of guys that do stupid stuff and justify it on the basis that at least it's not the Family biz."

"Hmm," Iris says. "That's interesting. Tell me, would you consider letting me interview you..?"

"Yeah, sure, if you'd be willing to get tested for bone marrow compatibility for my mom," Wally says. "One interview if you get tested, and if you’re a match, well, I'll do all the interviews you want."

"Deal," Iris says. "Danvers, what about you? Want to get tested together?"

"I can't," Danvers says apologetically. "Medical issue. But I have a really, really rare blood type, so I wouldn't be a match anyway."

"Snart?"

"My doc says she's the only one allowed to stick me with needles for the foreseeable future," Len says, waggling his crutch pointedly. Giving blood after getting shot in a dirty warehouse is just asking to potentially spread some sort of blood-borne disease, even if the tests have come up negative so far. "Anyway, Wally, about that ride – we need to go to Murderers' Row."

Wally's eyebrows go straight up. "You gotta death wish or something?"

"We need to talk to someone there," Iris says. "You don't have to stay -"

"Are you joking? Of course he has to stay," Len says. "How do you expect us to get out again?"

"But -"

"No, it's cool," Wally says. "Your man here looks like he can handle himself - you're packing, right?"

"Of course."

Wally nods. "Then I'll stick around. I've never been in Murderers' Row long enough to see what it looks like."

"Me either," Iris says, sounding excited.

Len blinks at them. "It's a slum," he says blankly. "It doesn't look like anything."

Danvers pats him on the back. "The guy with a ranking system for different prisons doesn't get to throw stones here, boss."

...it's not his fault Iron Heights sucks balls. Or that Len has a multipage spreadsheet to prove it.

Murderers' Row, on the other hand, is just your average old slum: ratty dirty buildings halfway or more to falling apart, shoddy half-hearted repairs, people hanging around looking at each other suspiciously, everyone packing more heat than a summer's day - lead in the walls, dirt in the water, and violence in the air.

Len feels at home already.

"You're humming, boss."

"Nice to be back in the old parts of town," Len says. "Though of course this don't have anything on Central's slums - now there's a prime bit of slum territory -"

A member of the local gangs - not Family, just a local - who was oh-so-casually loitering ever closer to them, hand on the gun in his pocket in the event of their being either a threat or unwary prey, gives out a snort at that, his shoulders dropping.

"Shoulda known a Middleman'd be the only one dumb enough to bring two bits into Murderers' Row," he says, friendly enough.

"What, and after all the effort I went getting one of each color, too?" Len replies, smirking back even as his voice drops back into the comfortable nasal drawl he grew up with. "Archboys got no taste - and no discernment, neither, if you think these here are bits. You really think I'd come here with one leg and no protection?"

The gang member nods amiably. Like most low-level thugs, he's willing to give the benefit of the doubt to just about anything he doesn't understand - and the idea of a slum kid like Len showing up with crutches and two pretty ladies ripe for kidnapping is just ludicrous enough that he's willing to believe that Danvers and Iris are both enforcers hidden in sheep's clothing.

"Don't start nothing," the guy still says in warning, clearly more reflexively than anything else, and heads back to rejoin his gang.

Iris does Len the tremendous favor of waiting until he's gone to ask, in an undertone, "Middleman? Archboys?"

"Middlemen are Central City slum kids, born and raised," Len tells her. "Archboys are the same but for Keystone. There isn't an official divide, of course, but everyone's got their loyalty, what with the two cities being so close."

"And bits?" Danvers asks. "What's that mean?"

"Uh," Len says.

"Whores," Wally says, amused. "Except your guy here somehow convinced him that we must all actually be really dangerous because it'd be too stupid to come here otherwise."

Len shrugs modestly. He's always had a gift for bullshit. "Now's your turn," he says to Iris. "The name?"

"Hartley Rathaway," Iris says.

Len's eyebrows shoot up. He's not the only one.

"I know, I know, a Rathaway here of all places; it sounds dumb," Iris says, seeing his expression. "But he was disowned by his family after he came out and then blackballed from the scientific research industry after getting fired from STAR Labs, and Mason'd traced him here."

"Well," Len says. "At least he'll be easy to find."

"Not without street numbers," Iris says, scowling at the rundown buildings.

"Who needs street numbers when you've got cardboard?" Len asks. "Wait here."

He hobbles over to the nearest outpost of the cardboard brigade - not far, there's a nice alleyway where a handful of homeless people are congregating.

Len likes the cardboard brigade. His usual contact – a crazy ageless woman called the Mad Magpie that likes to hang around the police precinct, thus the ‘crazy’ moniker – likes him back, and that usually means he can ask for favors other people wouldn’t get. In this case, he gives them the usual set of passwords and asks for the courtesy of an hour's head start before they start spreading his name and face around.

They agree cheerfully and direct him to one of the buildings on the street, the one with a green door and boarded-up windows.

Their target supposedly resides on the third floor.

"This is wild," Wally murmurs, staring at the entranceway to the building with some trepidation. "I can't believe you're going to go interview a guy in Murderers' Row, ex-millionaire's kid or not. You journalists have got some serious balls."

Len decides not to correct Wally's misapprehension as to their profession, as cops are as little liked here as anywhere in the slums. Besides, that comment was mostly aimed at Iris, who is, in fact, a journalist.

...technically.

Being a blogger counts, right?

Len struggles up the steps. The slums are not exactly handicap-friendly, to say the least, but at least he has Danvers' strong arm and excellent sense of discretion to help get him there.

By the time they're on the third floor landing, he's breathing hard and both Iris and Wally have identical worried expressions.

Literally identical, actually; Len wonders if they're related. Sadly, there's probably no polite way to ask Iris if her dad happens to have any illegitimate kids out there.

"You sure you're -" Iris starts.

"I'm fine," Len says, catching his breath. "What's all that PT for if not for climbing stairs and interrogating witnesses?"

"Assuming this guy's there at all," Wally says.

"That's a good point," Iris says. "He could've been disappeared, too."

Wally looks intrigued. "People have been disappearing? That sounds bad. Can I help?"

"You're already helping," Iris assures him.

"Danvers, how much of a budget do we have for interns?" Len murmurs as quietly as he can, knowing that Danvers' ridiculous bat-ears will hear anything he says as long as there's even the slightest exhalation giving sound to the words.

"You could use having a more reliable driver than Charlie, of all people," she whispers back. "I'll check when we get back to the office, but we can probably make it work."

"S'long as he never intends on being a real cop later in life, it could get him outta some of his current trouble..."

With that settled, Len decides to ignore Iris' attempt to brief Wally on what they know (nothing, but told from a fairly pro-Flash perspective) and knock firmly on the door.

Nothing.

"Danvers?" Len asks.

"There's someone inside," she confirms. "Only one person, as far as I can tell."

"How can you tell?" Wally asks.

"Danvers has ridiculously good hearing," Len says proudly. "The only way she could be more accurate about this sorta thing is if she had X-ray vision."

Danvers flushes.

It’s simultaneously hilarious and rage-inducing (mostly at her family) how shy she is about how awesome she is.

Len knocks again, this time harder. "C'mon," he calls. "We know you're in there, we mean no harm, and anyway, I hear that the price of door replacements on Murderers' Row is killer."

Danvers groans, Iris smirks, and Wally stares up at the ceiling like it can give him answers to how he ended up here.

A second later, the door swings open.

"That was fucking awful," the man inside informs them, smirking.

Len frowns at the man - about the same height as Len, Caucasian, brunet, and scruffy like he thinks Indiana Jones is a role model, wearing a dark green hoodie and cheap jeans - and says, "I'm gonna assume you ain't Hartley Rathaway."

"No shit," the guy says. He looks vaguely familiar, now that Len thinks about it. "What gave it away, the extra foot of height or the fact that I don't talk rich?"

"The latter," Len says. "Given that I ain't never met the guy in person to know about the rest. He live here?"

“Who wants to know?”

“A nosy asshole,” Len says. “Don’t make me go ask the cardboard brigade to tell me the same thing, okay?”

The guy snorts, acknowledging the point.

“So does Rathaway Jr. live here?” Len prods.

"Usually, yeah," the guy says, giving in. "He’s my roomie. Ain’t been back in a couple weeks, though."

"He's been disappeared?" Wally exclaims.

The guy gives Wally a weird look. "Or he's just not been here for a couple weeks. It happens sometimes – jobs, laying low, that sorta deal."

"Oh."

"What’s that about people getting disappeared..?"

"Can we come in anyway?" Len interjects, not answering the question. "I could use a chair to crash in before attempting those stairs again."

"Yeah, sure, come in. Do I know you from somewhere?"

"I was just thinking that," Len says. Danvers is shaking her head at him pointedly like she's trying to tell him something, but he's not sure what; he's too busy trying to place the guy. "What's your deal?"

"Usual cut crew work, largely freelance - used to work with my brother -"

"Do you have a name, maybe?" Iris asks, following them inside, even as Len's nodding. “That might help more than your profession.”

The guy flushes, remembering his manners. "Uh, Mark. Mark Mardon. Nice to meet you."

Len snaps his fingers as it comes to him. "The Dollarhyde Street diamond job! The getaway drivers!"

"Holy crap," Mardon says, recognition lighting up his own eyes. "Leonard Snart?! I heard you went straight!"

Danvers puts her head in her hands.

Oh, right. That's what she'd been hinting at him about: Len's a wanted man in criminal circles.

Damnit, Danvers, thirty years a thief and four months a proper cop - he's going to mess up sometimes!

"Uh," Len says, wondering if this is about to escalate into a firefight.

"You were badass, man," Mardon says admiringly. "We got away clean with the cut from your job with no sweat, and it lasted us nearly a year of good living. One of the best jobs we ever did. You're good people, man; the criminal underworld lost a genius when you turned."

Aw, Len's touched.

Also rather relieved.

(Danvers' shoulders are now shaking with laughter, while Iris and Wally both gape.)

“Always a pleasure to meet a fan,” he says, ignoring his audience. Hopefully they’ll know well enough to stay out of this conversation and leave it entirely to him.

He knows how to talk to criminals.

"Is it true that you sent fifty pigs to jail in one month alone?" Mardon asks eagerly.

Len grins. Being admired for his cop work by criminals is somehow even sweeter than being admired for his top-notch criminal skills. "Almost. Some of 'em refused to plea bargain out and are going to trial - or are supposed to go to trial. They're begging for a plea bargain now."

"Fuckers deserve it," Mardon says fervently. "Every one of 'em. I hate cops."

"Corrupt cops," Len corrects.

"Aren't they all?" Mardon asks.

"Leave me some hope here, please," Len says dryly. "I don't wanna have to start the whole thing from scratch."

"Hey, they're not all bad," Iris protests. "My dad's a cop! So is my boyfriend!"

"Can we keep it down with all this cop talk?" Wally hisses. "My old man was a cop before he ditched my mom, but I don't go around boasting about it! Especially not here of all places!"

Mardon's frowning at Iris. "You’re from Central," he says slowly. "Your dad wouldn't happen to be Joe West, would he?"

"Uh," Iris says instead of confirming it, proving that she's not a total idiot. "Why do you ask?"

"Because Joe West murdered my brother," Mardon says, still frowning suspiciously at Iris. "My baby brother, Clyde - West shot him right in the fucking back. And one day, I'm going to get back at West by murdering someone he loves, too."

"Lucky for us that she’s a Lloyd, not a West, then, ain’t it?" Len interjects, lying his ass off with the name of the first black cop he can think of that isn’t West and extremely uncertain as to whether it's going to work. He wishes he were less surprised that even when he's not part of the investigation, Joe West still manages to fuck everything up. "You know I'm not going to let you do that, right?"

Mardon glances at him, scowling, and then just as Len's considering going for his gun, suddenly relaxes. "Should've figured," he says with a grin. "I know your code against killing civilians; if you had that as a thief, I can't see you changing it as a pig."

Len shrugs. "What can I say? I never much liked the idea of some civilian getting iced just 'cause they happened to have the wrong blood. If the whole world acted like that, I'd've never made it out of the crib before someone would've put me out of my misery to make a point to my old man."

Mardon grunts. "Yeah, I guess," he says reluctantly. "Sure wouldn't've have wanted someone going after Clyde because of some damn stupid thing I did, I guess."

"Exactly," Len says, then hesitates. "You want me to look into hammering West for that shooting?"

Sadly, he knows it's probably a lost cause if the officer-related shooting's already been resolved by the bureau. They don't reopen stuff like that without evidence of some sort of cover-up or something, and it sounds like Clyde Mardon being shot in the back was pretty public already.

Still…

"Might not go anywhere,” Len continues, ignoring how Iris is trying to death-glare a hole into his back. She’s got nothing on Danvers. “But at least it's better than you getting sent down for life 'cause you murdered an innocent, yeah? What do you say?"

"No," Mardon says. "Thanks, and I appreciate the offer, but no. I've got a back-up plan in place that ought to show West what for without getting in your crosshairs. Property, not people."

"It'd better stay property not people," Len warns him. "I'm gonna have to tip off the CCPD about this little convo; you'll get pre-med for sure if anyone goes down, and that means the death penalty gets put on the table."

"Yeah, whatever," Mardon says. "The pigs won't be able to stop me even if they tried."

"That's what they all say," Len says wearily. "Now listen, can you help us or not?"

Mardon blinks at him. "Help you? With what?"

"We're looking into some disappearances, most of which seem to happen right around the same time as a Flash sighting," Len says. "We think Rathaway might have some insight. Can you tell him to call when he gets back? And let us know if he doesn't get back?"

"Sure," Mardon says, accepting Len's card. "But only 'cause you go exclusively against cops in your new job. D'Angelo said you were still cool with the trade for the most part."

"D'Angelo also promised to keep his mouth shut," Len says with a sigh. He really hopes Iris doesn’t remember to pay attention to this part of the conversation, but she’s a would-be journalist; he’s sure she will. Well, he always did believe in the philosophy of not doing anything you wouldn’t want to go down for doing later on, and he’s perfectly willing to face the music on this one. After all, working with D'Angelo got him the best lead they’ve had yet on the Flash. "Amateurs. Anyway, I didn't say it before, but I'm real sorry to hear about Clyde; he had a beautiful way with just about anything on four wheels."

Mardon smiles. "That he did. That he did."

Len nods and gets painfully back up to his feet. "Don't suppose you've got anything to add about these disappearances yourself? Or the Flash?"

Mardon snorts. "No. Or, well, yeah: if you don't see anything really big go down by the waterfront in the next few days or so, assume that I've been disappeared, too."

"So noted," Len says, then turns his attention to his small crew, mute and watching. "C'mon, all, we're wasting daylight. We'll hear from Rathaway when or if he comes back."

They follow Len down those horrific stairs – he needs so much more PT than he thought he did before he tried those stairs, but his leg is considering secession in self-defense while his side and spine are basically giant screaming pits of agony – and back out into the street.

"So, that went - uh - interestingly," Danvers says, her voice somehow still cheerful even though she’s looking at Len a little worriedly. "At least we got a heads up about possible violence, right?"

"Honor among thieves," Len says, nodding. "Mardon's a bit old school at heart; he didn't have to give us that much."

"Probably not. And, uh, weird question," Danvers says. "Did anyone else notice how right in the middle of the conversation the weather right outside the window got all -"

"He's going to do something terrible!" Iris explodes. "We have to stop him!"

"We'll tell everyone," Len says soothingly. "Including Detective West; we’ll just get him to avoid the waterfront for a bit. It'll be fine."

"You sure?" Wally asks anxiously. "I mean, I've never met this West guy, and I'm sure he's a total dickbag, but that doesn't mean I want him to get hurt."

"He's not a -" Iris starts, then pauses. "Listen, he's not a total dickbag, okay? Not all the time."

Len would disagree, but whatever.

"And what do you know about him, anyway?" she continues accusingly. Clearly a believer in the ‘I can criticize him but you can’t’ school of thought, Iris West. "You're not even from Central; you’re from Keystone! He’s never even policed your area – you don’t know anything about him! You don’t have any reason to say anything about him!"

"Yeah, well," Wally says, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. "According to my mom, he's my old man."

"He's what?!" Iris shrieks.

Oh, boy. Len'd thought they looked similar, but he hadn't really thought that whole 'illegitimate child' theory had water in it.

This is going to get unnecessarily emotional fast, he just knows it.

"What do you care?" Wally snaps. "Your old man's Lloyd or whatever; mine's the one at risk!"

"I'm not a Lloyd, I'm a West!" Iris exclaims. "Snart was just lying so I wouldn't get shot!"

"Uh, guys?" Danvers says. "Maybe we should be having this out in Murderers' Row?"

"But," Wally says, then falters. "If you're a West – and if he really is my old man –"

"- then I'm your sister," Iris finishes. "Holy crap. You're my brother!"

“Holy crap!”

Yeah, Len's done with this.

He gives his best ear-piercing whistle.

All three of them look accusingly at him, clutching their ears. Danvers in particular looks like a sad miserable puppy that’s been betrayed by a surprise visit to the vet or something.

Too bad, so sad.

"Everyone get back in the car," he orders. "You can talk about all this family stuff on the drive back to Central. And maybe let’s do this before we all get shot? The cardboard brigade only promised me an hour before they sold my presence here to the Families."

That, at least, gets everyone moving.

Len resigns himself to the worst car ride ever.

#coldflash #leonard snart #barry allen #iris west #mick rory #kara danvers #wally west #mark mardon #Hartley rathaway #my fic #an internal affair

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a-cat-who-likes-stars · 3 years

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Dating and priorities. 1500, 18 Mar 2021

"Priorities" has been such a key word these days, because as much as I had been experimenting with a specific type of dating, I'm glad that I'm able to clarify to myself the good things among any else. This time I'll record what happened with my 1st few trials with said certain type of dating. Try to guess what kind of dating I went for, though they all took place online.

In retrospect, the first profile I made was the best. I could rejoice ironically how much of a regret I had after deleting it, but I'm not someone who goes with guilt and remorse. I always move on, though this time it felt more emotional, and I felt I had to carry an extra sack from where I'm walking away from, like this was a souvenir from the experience I went through.

My first profile picture was really elegant with a tinge of sultriness, but just a teeny tiny tinge of that. The background was a pale pink with a light tiffany green accessory cape, a few dark wooden-like ornaments on a sort of mantel. At least that was the impression of the profile picture, because truly it was just my bookshelf and my bedroom wall and a random piece of sheet I threw over to cover my sort of library collection.

I was wearing my bob with my bangs pinned up so I looked clean, tidy, well kept, classy, simple, no-nonsense. My make-up was a simple blush pink lipstick, some mascara, some compact powder to cover my undereye circles, brow penciled. The compact wasn't really covering the deeper shade of my undereye fully, combined with daylight it seemed too transparent, but that warrants my no-need to do any eyeshadow.

In the profile picture I'm in a half smile, but really it's just a matter of angle because I don't have to smile at all, I just seem like I'm smiling politely. My eyes looked downwards at the camera lens. I looked really classy.

Anyways the description and the photo was a boom because I received messages as soon as I put them online and they got approved.

There's this guy who offered a pay per meet but they gave off an off vibe so I deleted the message.

Over those kinds of inboxes the 1st guy that caught my eye did exactly this: he wanted to meet over coffee and offered a monthly allowance of 3000. That caught my eye because he meant business. I later caught on with him by texting outside of the website only to come to the conclusion I wasn't able to meet him because I won't be around until the middle of April. He told me to let him know when I'm back in the city.

Maybe he was the 1st person I reached out the furthest, I was interested and sent a message of a song recommendation from spotify to him but he didn't reply. It felt like dangling on a cliff. 1 week later I got another message from an overseas number offering a job. I knew the only way was through this person because I only used this new number of mine to communicate with him.

That gave a suspicious feeling, because this proved he might give any info of mine to anyone and the key thing was Without My Permission, I don't care if he did it out of what kind of intention. It was wrong and crossed my line, and as much as the offer of 3000 monthly seemed attractive to me (a 1st timer) I decided to delete their contact on my phone.

I had another place where I kept account of our chat details so if I ever (but highly unlikely) want to reconnect to this person whom I had researched online and found out he is a carpet businessman who looks I have seen via photographs of him, I decided it was done.

My principles.

The next person I dealt with just recently. He was such a friendly person who seemed genuinely into the game. And by game, I'm sure with his experience, he's a player. He's married but still looking, and from what we talked about on phone (he was the 1st to call me and the 1st guy whose voice I had heard since I started dating like this) he had a partner once for 2 years, she was a student but she ended her studies and things moved on but they kept being friends, this guy is someone who really manages his time with finesse, I must admit. He is a professional engineer, he says, and in his messenger account he put a name that I could easily research online and find a construction company director position linked to it. From there he is said to be a graduate from the University of Melbourne a long time ago. From there it tells me about how old he is now. His children (since he said he is married) if any, I figure could probably be older than I am.

That aside, he seemed genuinely interested to have a long term relationship. He seemed chemistry. He is very friendly and I could totally be friendly too, but I was guarded and cold compared to my usual self, especially when I was on that 1 phone call with him. He said he was driving, and he liked to hear about people's voices when he drives back home from dinner with his friends.

The next day I was greeted with a picture of a rose from him and a wish. The day after it was a quote and another wish for productivity as I mentioned my occupation too. This guy really knows how to converse. I admire his manners and conduct. In fact, he matches 89% of my description of "what I'm looking for". Save the married part.

He asked me if I'm allergic to married men. No, I'm not. I see them as humans all the same. I actually see him as a patient. It has only been 1 year and 6 months since I've enrolled in my professional academic training, and for that part of mindset, I was intrigued by myself to be honest.

Like I said, I was interested also because I was curious why he would had such kinds of affair after marrying a woman. I researched online for a consecutive 3 days regarding this matter. The reasons were humane enough.

I was reckless and threw this connection away. Because I was trying, too hard. I had a favourite guru on this sort of dating and she was successful. In her videos she said it was never too soon and about how we keep our standards up high so that people we date are on par and we don't waste our time. Be focused on the aim. There's nothing wrong with that. Anyone who wants something has to set their intention on it.

I wanted a book so I texted him about it and he read my message and never ever replied. I was filled with guilt I removed my simcard so that I never EVER reconnect with this person however the chemistry or friendliness existed for the first 2 days.

I recall a tarot reading because I'm into these stuffs. The reading said this person "will prepare you for your true connection". I couldn't agree more. I felt on one hand I disrespected him, on the other hand he taught me to be respectful of time and mannerisms. It was a sort of transaction with no money involved. I'm grateful I met this person, he really reminded me of that.

He also showed me how high my standards should be.

The day after I watched my guru online and she reminded to keep it as a date, not some job.

Of course. I just went off track for a time. See how it affected everything. Impressions are so important.

I started to date because I wanted to spend my time on guys who can afford and are good in management, well in conduct, respectable. I was grateful I met them. It felt rare. I wouldn't have met these people who are multimillionaires, entrepreneurs, CEOs, Directors, if I only mingled with peers. Plus my peers suck.

What an experience. I'm thankful for these gurus. Eventhough I will most probably NEVER meet them ever again. But I will remember their names, they have touched me without knowing (it's not that sentimental, just stating) and if I ever come across them in real life, I will send a wish for their general well-being. Like putting it out to the universe and the universe will take care of everything else.

I took out my profile and deactivated it. Nothing remains except if you're a hacker you may retrieve the deleted info. It was like a summer fling to me. Although everything IS like a fling to me. I take things less serious than I seem to be, and as much as I'm warm around, my heart isn't as so.

All in all, it was my 1st experience with sugar dating. Yep. Meeting successful men who keep their private life so private people assume they're gay? Interesting as heck.

I'd love to redo this again in the future after I level up. Ah, such are the beginnings of and afterthoughts for my dating choices. Imma try to write a book in the end as a memoir. Cheers!

0 notes

indieks · 7 years

Text

Not So Randomly | Part 3/5

🌟 Pairing : Im Changkyun (I.M) x Reader

🌟 Genre : Fluff, Angst

🌟 Word count : 14.4k

🌟 Synopsis : Whenever you cross the path of Im Changkyun, that guy you hate and that hates you, it seems to be the worst day of your life. But, strangely enough, it also becomes the best and most accurate of moments you've ever had. So, the more you randomly end up stucked with each other, the more a question can arise : is it really chance that has something against you, or is it serendipity that drives you one towards the other?

Previous Part .:. Next Part

🌟 A/N : Sorry it took me longer to post this, but as you can see, I wrote a lot more and I struggled to be satisfied...

Anyway, we’re finally going back to school with this part! And I'm thanking all of you who are following me with this, I'm really appreciative so thank you! I hope you'll have a good time reading! ♥

Disclaimer : any gifs or images used, even edited, are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!

***

Spring. One word that made the kids on holiday happy as they soon would be reunited with their classmates, the teenagers and young adults bloom with ideas and worries about their future as they came closer and closer to the work-life at each start of this season, and the parents proud to see their children grow up and enter a new cycle in March. And for him, it was a word that made him anticipate as much as it excited him.

As winter was coming to an end, Changkyun had just left Busan and was about to start his college life in Seoul, the huge capital in which he had always dreamed of spending time. Night had already fallen when he took the subway with his enormous suitcase and when he finally seated, he sighed in relief, tired by the journey he had went on before arriving here. It was the last mean of transport he had to use, and thankfully he would be staying in it for good twenty to thirty minutes. His hands were red and aching because of the cold outside, as fog was forming on the glasses of the modern train, and he put them in his pockets after having smiled at the trace of a scar in the palm of his left hand.

He had thought of you from time to time during these 6 long months, as after your last conversation – or rather altercation – he hadn't contacted nor seen you. He had been vigilant like you whenever he had gone out with his friends in Busan's streets , looking around him and, in some way, searching for you. His hyungs had tried to make him regret his poor decision of banishing you from his life without even giving you and him a chance, when it clearly would have been possible. However, his pride had been as solid as a rock, becoming like a shield against which their arguments had bounced back. After falling ridiculously for a girl he had been supposed to despise at first, how could his friends expect from him to go back to you? He had failed the first time to stick to his decision to ignore you, he wouldn't fail the second time.

And so he didn't. When summer had been over, you went back to Seoul and he stayed behind, without the chance of seeing your face again, except in his memories. But when he had been accepted to his university in the capital, the flashes of you he had tried so hard to brush off during the second semester finally reappeared, reminding him that you lived there, and he hadn't been able to prevent himself from anticipating a new random encounter between the two of you.

He couldn't have been more right. When the subway came to a stop for the fifth time, he was already about to doze off when suddenly, he saw a girl entering and sit down near him, bringing her legs against her chest and her feet on the seat. He only observed her from the corner of his eye at first, but he soon realized that he wasn't the only one to have his eyes drawn to her. Indeed, she was crying, and even if she was trying the best she could to remain quiet, her sobs could still be perceived through the ambient hubbub. When she finally freed her face from her hair by tying them into a bun, revealing the water spilling from her eyes and the makeup it was wasting, Changkyun almost had a heart attack. It was you. It was you. Right here, right now, at this instant. You were so close to him he couldn't believe it, and he finally stared at you with all his attention.

As much as it made him go crazy to see you appear once again randomly in his sight, he couldn't deny how happy he truly felt to see your face again, even if he had no right to look at it the way he was right now, as he had refused to be someone doing that whenever he wanted to and with you liking it. In the mix of emotions he was feeling right now, from shock to anxiety to attraction to relief, he also felt the outlines of a laugh tracing themselves in the back of his throat as he thought again of how your paths never stopped from crossing whenever you were in the same city. Destiny? Fate? Misfortune? He didn't know how to call it at this point.

Like the time he had seen you at the promenade, he was losing himself at your sight and feeling something tingling deep within him, which had given him cold chills even in summer back then. Like the time at the park, he was suffering from hot flashes ascending from his chest to his face, making him sweat like he had back then. Like the time at the party, his heart felt uneasy at the sight of you crying, his body aching to move to you, as if it was attracted to yours like a magnet, making him go after you back then.

And like every time he met you, a wave of emotions he couldn't describe had come crashing against him, drowning him in his infatuation for you he had denied back then.

But this time, it was right here, right now, and even after the 6 long months without seeing you, Changkyun had to witness all of his inner feelings resurface without being able to do anything except from undergo it.

Why were you crying again? Who had hurt you?

***

You had been walking for a while now, after leaving him behind you to prevent him from seeing you cry pitifully and apologizing again. You couldn't hear his excuses anymore, they were useless as he had already hurt you.

After that damn summer, you went back to Seoul and to your high school, and, with the fantastic advice from your best friend, you had started to see a guy who had had a crush on you even before the summer break, in order to move on from Changkyun. Yes, move on, because as hard as it had been even for you to believe, that jerk had left a deep impact on you. He had hurt you really bad, making you numb from any attractions for any other boy, and you had thought of him more frequently than you should have done. You had wondered how come you could have done this to yourself, how come you could have fallen for his sharp and mean personality, how come you didn't slap him when he sure had deserved it, and, pretty stupidly, even how he had been doing, if he was thinking of you too.

That's when your best friend had took action, tired of you moping, so she pushed you towards this guy that was in the same year as you but in a different class. Messages after messages, smiles after smiles and dates after dates, you finally had become something by the end of October. He was a sweet and smart guy, undeniably cute ; all a girl could've asked for, and it really did help you to dry up the seemingly flourishing source of attraction for Changkyun that had filled you till your veins. You finally felt that gentle sparkle you had had with Changkyun but this time while you were looking at that guy, even more after he had reassured you when you refused to have your first time with him because you were not ready. You had thought he had accepted you entirely.

Yeah, that's what you had thought, until tonight when he called you, aligning those words making everyone's body tremble with fear and heart compress : "I need to talk to you." You went to the park near your high school as fast as you could, not even feeling the cold seeping through your ripped jeans and your tights. You hadn't wanted to think it was a breakup that was waiting for you, as after you had searched in your head what wrong you could've done or if things were weird lately, you had found out that nothing was pointing, at least not evidently, to him parting from you.

However, you had sensed things wrong once again, like you had with Changkyun. He broke up with you in that park, the one you had went to so many times to spend some time after classes, not caring about the snow or the cold as you had each other's fiery heart to heat up the atmosphere around you. He broke up with you after 4 months of relationship, his sentences punctuated by sorrys cutting you even deeper every time they slipped from his mouth. He broke up with you, because he was fearing he "wouldn't be able to enjoy his college life as much as he would like to if he had a girlfriend" and as he "respected you, he didn't want you to suffer because of him if he ever did something wrong".

Yes, you were going to different universities, him traveling to the south of the country while you were staying there in Seoul, but you at least had been ready to give it a try, because in the end, you truly liked him. You told him those exact words and before he could excuse himself one more time, you walked away ; no, you ran away. So that was what had been missing? Maybe, if you had given your body to him he would've stayed? But what about those reassuring words he had said to you, telling you he could wait? Wasn't your affection enough for him to hold onto and not fall in the trap of the party life universities imply?

You cried in the streets, not caring about the curious looks the passengers gave you, your vision totally blurred and your head disconnected from reality. Suffering from a heartbreak so soon couldn't have been more lethal to you, and you felt the pieces of your ruined heart slip away from your body along with the tears you cried. You trailed your feet as you entered the subway and when you sat down, you curled up and waited for your stop to come, not even noticing you were still crying and that a lot of pair of eyes were on you. Not even noticing his pair of eyes on you, those sharp eyes that had burned you from indifference as well as interest when he had kissed you. A lady next to you offered you a tissue and you finally wiped your eyes and face, clearing your vision, and you checked your phone to see a notification, from him.

Hwi Min 🙄💕[8:37 PM] : Im so so so sorry. Ik you told me to stop saying it, but I do care abt you, Y/N. So I'm telling you again, Im sorry. I wish you the best. If you want to talk to me again after some time… you have my number.

[Blocked]

That was the best thing you could do to yourself ; erase everything about him in an instant, move on as quickly as you could, look in front of you instead of looking back. College life was waiting for you, a whole new world with your best friend as your roommate ; there would be plenty of nice guys there, and if there weren't any for you, you would wait until your time comes. You breathed calmly, your tears had finally stopped from running down your cheeks as you did this small lecture to yourself, but when you finally dared to look around you, you couldn't have felt more suffocated than with what you saw. Im Changkyun. He was sitting right there, and he was staring at you in return. He was there as the ghost he had always been, appearing freely in your life and crushing every one of your attempts not to care about love or boys. You couldn't believe it, mixed between shock and embarrassment that he had seen you cry another time. For how long had he been sitting there?

You saw him part his lips as if he was about to say something, also starting to shift his body as if he was going to move from his sit to come closer to you, but you couldn't admit it nor wanted to. This, wasn't the right moment. This, wasn't supposed to happen. What did chance had after you? Why did you come across him again, of all human beings on earth, and in addition when you were at your worst state, less than ready to deal with him heads up? Why did you have to face the first guy that had crushed your heart right after you had met with the second one you had wanted to give it to but who torn it apart as well?

You stood up on your wobbling legs - again - and all the other symptoms he made you sick with filled your body as you looked at him one last time before getting off the subway in precipitation. Sweat, chills, tachycardia, defective legs. You cursed under your breath, tears already foaming under your eyelids and blurring your sight once again, but even if you were going as fast as you could, it didn't beat Changkyun's determination to go after you another time. His suitcase rolling behind him, he pulled at it with all he could so that it wouldn't slow him down and, once you were outside, he finally got a hold of your arm.

"Y/N" he almost whispered, out of breath after this small race.

You didn't turn back, frozen by his hand on your body and his deep and low voice, that voice which melted so well in your ears, that muted every other sound around you, even the ones of the busy Seoul at night.

"Y/N, look at me" he spoke up again and you finally faced him.

It struck you, how much you had missed that face even if it had hurt you just to think of him. He hadn't changed, except for the fact that you found a glow in his eyes that hadn't been there the last time you had stood before him. He observed you from your head to your toes, thinking you were cute yet feminine in your huge knitted sweater and your ripped jeans, and finally, for the first time ever, he smiled at you. Purely, genuinely, simply. Weirdly enough, you felt your heart quiver in your chest when you had thought it was dead after having been stabbed by two boys in no time.

"Long time no see. Is it my turn to be the only one laughing at how fate hates us?" he asked but he waited patiently for your reaction, taking his time to engrave that image of you in the cold night, with tear-stained face and tiredness masking your traits, but still as beautiful as ever.

"I don't really have the energy to laugh right now, you can guess" you answered coldly, your voice weak and as you didn't bear to be that close to him again after all this time, after all your work to forget about him, you suddenly turned around and started to walk away.

Changkyun was surprised but, for the first time too, he followed once more, his feet pushed by the hands of excitement instead of being held by the ones of fear like they had.

"Wait wait wait Y/N, let’s-"

"Leave me alone, Im Changkyun." you told him once you had stopped walking because of a green light preventing you from crossing the street. "I don't know what the fuck you're doing here, and I don't care. I didn't want to see you ever again the last time we met, and it hasn't changed. Goodbye."

With those last words and before he could say anything else, you signaled a taxi to stop for you and fortunately it did, so you hopped in without giving the boy one last look, leaving him on the sidewalk to wonder what had just happened, just like you were doing in the car.

***

Silence had never seemed that unbearable. Because now that you were all by yourself, without the buzzing sound of the night and streets, you could only focus on what was on your own mind. And even when you turned on some music, his voice in your head wouldn't disappear.

Trying to empty your head had never been that hard. Because every time you closed your eyes to stop seeing his image on the ceiling facing you, it appeared under your eyelids as if it was tattooed there, replacing the old one of his face close to yours whose ink had finally started to disappear, so much you couldn't remember his traits in their most perfect moment.

You couldn't laugh at it this time like you had done 6 months ago. Not after what he had done to you, not after what Hwimin just had too. You had too many emotions to handle in just one night : you still hadn't processed that you were single again when you met Changkyun. But what was scaring and confusing you the most, was that seeing him again seemed to influence your well-being even more than being dumped by your now ex-boyfriend. You couldn't think of Hwimin's words anymore, as only those of Changkyun were remaining in your brain, deleting everything that had happened before. You couldn't remember how sincere Hwimin's expressions had been, as only the traits of Changkyun were freezing you in your spot under your blanket.

You had returned to the university's dorms by taxi, as you had already moved in a few days before in a hurry, happy to leave the bird's nest. Thankfully, your parents had accepted that you lived on campus even if your house wasn't that far from Seoul, but they had understood how much it was important for you to blend in your college life completely and to detach yourself from them.

Back to school was in two days. Only a weekend was left before the real start of everything, but you felt gloomy instead of thrilled, as you realized that in addition of not seeing Hwimin physically, you won't get to update him about your life as you used to before. You didn't have that special person anymore, the one everyone's waiting for even when they don't think about it ; the one you don't need to have something specific to talk about to send a message ; the one you knew was there whenever you needed him or her ; the one you could think of with a smile when you were feeling… Well, when you were feeling exactly like you were at this right instant. Now, picturing the face of Hwimin in your mind made you ache even more. You regretted having known someone like him, even having your first serious relationship ever, because now that you had seen how it was to have a boyfriend, not having one anymore and being single was harder to go through.

You felt gloomy until the day before your first day at college. You had spent the weekend at your parents' house, and on Sunday night they sent you back, your mother getting teary at the sight of her daughter leaving even if you assured her you would come back to them more frequently than what she thought.

"How are you feeling?" your best friend, Solhee, asked you as you both were packing your things for the next morning.

"About what? Tomorrow?"

"Don't play dumb with me. I'm talking about Hwimin." she answered with a serious tone, crossing her arms on her chest while turning around to look at you who was still placing stuff in your backpack.

"I'm… Fine, I guess, I mean I have to be." you sighed and you let yourself fall down on your bed once you were done.

You had decorated your room with small tinsels and pictures to make it feel a bit more like home, as you were going to be stuck in here most of the time. You looked at the fluorescent stars you had glued to the ceiling above you, another sigh leaving your lips as you thought of your ex again. Solhee had told you Hwimin had asked her about how you were doing, making you a bit angry because he had been the one to put you in this state in the first place, but also killing you as you couldn't help yourself from finding it sweet.

"Solhee-ah."

Your best friend plopped back on her bed too, before rolling on her side to look at you as you kept staring at the white ceiling, your arms under your head.

"Yes, Y/N-ah?"

"I saw him two days ago."

"Who? Hwimin?"

"And I'm the one playing dumb here? You already know that. But I didn't tell you… I saw Changkyun, the same day too."

She sat up as quickly as she had lied down, her eyes ten times bigger and her mouth wide open, making you laugh at the sight.

"WHAT? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?! HOW COME?! WHEN?! WHAT HAPPENED?!!!!"

"Calm the fuck down Solhee!!! We have neighbors now you know?!" you quickly whispered.

"You, tell me what happened. Now."

"That's exactly what I was about to do but I only can if you shut your mouth and listen." you replied while giving her a warning look, to which she nodded. "I told you how I constantly came across Changkyun back there in Busan. Well you know what? Even in Seoul, it seems that fate wants to kill me. I just had seen Hwimin, that is to say I just got dumped you know? I took the subway, I was crying like shit, and when I looked around, he was there, Solhee. He was sitting at like 3 meters away from me, and he was looking at me while I was crying. Do you believe that? Meeting randomly in Seoul, why not, but how come I enter the same wagon as him? Subways have like ten of them! And what's even better, is that instead of thinking of Hwimin and consider moving on, I think of Changkyun every single minute since Friday night and that's even worse. Everything you’ve tried to do makes no sense now, Solhee. I just lost the guy that was supposed to help me move on, and I met the guy I was supposed to forget about, exactly at the moment when I have no shield against him anymore. How come my life is so pathetic? Now I'm scared to death to go outside because I'm sure he'll be there! He had a suitcase!!!"

You felt at the verge of crying again now that you had said out loud how blurred your situation was. But even if it had relieved you to release the voices in your head, thinking that once they were out you wouldn't hear them anymore, you shouldn't have brought this subject right before your first day of college, as Solhee and you talked and talked without checking the alarms next to your beds. But it was too late to regret it when you finally woke up in the morning, your eyes sticky and your mind hardly processing what time it was until you saw it was ten minutes before the start of the first class.

"Solhee-ah. SOLHEE-AH. YA YOON SOLHEE!" you finally screamed, and your best friend jumped out of her bed once she heard you stutter the time it was.

Soon enough, you were slipping on some clothes from your wardrobe without looking at them or making sure they matched, your eyes still not adapting to the morning light your now opened window was revealing, and you felt in such a state of panic that you almost puked before going outside. How could you be late on the first day? How could you do this to yourself? You were supposed to have a fresh start, not a remarkable one because of your poor attitude, and you were already getting hot from embarrassment when you reached the door of the small amphitheater you had lost even more time to find.

If you had imagined your first day at university with a fresh makeup on your face and an outfit you were confident with, a bright smile disguising your lips making the rays of sun look dim, the reality was far from it. It's with sweaty foreheads and loud breathings taking from you the last ounce of glamour you could have, that your best friend and you finally found the courage to enter the class after having knocked. Students started to laugh and whisper with their mouths behind their hands, while the teacher turned around slowly to look at you move forward on the tip of your toes and with your back bent, as if it would make you tinier and your appearance a little bit more discreet.

To your despair, the only few folding seats left were apart from each other, and without even looking or thinking properly, you sat down on the first one you saw and so did Solhee. You hung your head low as you heard people talking – or more joking – about you, making you blush even more and want to bury your body under the magnificent grass of the campus. You hated being the center of rumors or whatever would circulate between the walls of this classroom and the whole university after that, and you felt the need to puke coming back as you started to imagine what label would be put on you after that. The late ugly girl? The sweaty breathy one? The head-in-the ass?

"I'm letting it go today, but don't be late next time girls! I know it's back to school and it's hard to wake up, but you have to get used to it and really quickly!" the teacher said with a smile, making you smile in return but your heart didn't feel at ease yet.

You pushed your back further into your seat and you let a sigh leave your lips, trying to focus on what the accounting teacher was explaining about this year's program, but your shame was still burning your ears and preventing you from listening apart from the whispers still swishing in the air.

"I didn't know you were this kind of girl, you were always on time last summer" you suddenly heard a deep voice coming from your right, a voice you knew too well and that got you cold in an instant even if you had been boiling from shame and from your morning race.

You slowly turned your head and yes, Im Changkyun was sitting next to you. You could see each pore of his light skin, smell each component from his perfume, and feel each inch of his knee against yours. It can't be.

"Stop staring at me, you're making this even weirder", your neighbor said in a quiet voice, and you faced your desk again, starting to sort out your things on it.

He hadn't had the time to properly process your entry through the door, because even if you had not noticed him first, when you sat down next to him without paying attention, it had forced him to digest the reality of the situation quicker than it would have took. You were here, once again, so close he could touch you this time. He had anticipated this exact moment since he had seen you two days before, since you had rejected him for the first time when he had always been the one to do it, and since it had bothered him more than he would have thought. Nevertheless, when it finally happened, he discovered he should've prepared himself instead of thinking his denial would work forever. Because the second you stepped your feet in the amphitheater, he felt dizzy, hit by his now well-known wave of feelings but with way much more violence than before, putting his strategy at stake one more time.

Your panicked hands almost made some pencils fall and roll down to the ground, which would have been the utmost of your morning shame, but "luckily" Changkyun caught them on their way, and his hand brushed yours when he put them back into their place. You almost screamed at the feeling of his skin touching even slightly yours, bringing back the painful memories of when you had bandaged him. Your heart should have been calmed down by now even after its physical effort, but its beating was getting worse. You couldn't help yourself from losing your nerve ; not since he was that close to you, not until you would have him in your sight, not as it felt like the worst morning of your life.

"What are you doing here?" you finally asked that dumb question, your fuzzy mind speaking for itself.

"Same as you, studying" Changkyun answered, his eyes on the teacher walking in the amphitheater and his small lips almost curving into a smile.

How could he smile in this situation? Of course he could, he was granted another opportunity to humiliate and annoy you just by being right here, heads up.

"I meant, why here?" you insisted, looking for any possible answers as to why chance would do this to you another time.

You needed to understand how come he could come after you and your weak heart 6 months later, or find a situation you'd believe would have brought him here next to you rationally. He was more than beautiful, with his black perfecto and his visible forehead, and your mind was drifting in limbo as you could only feel and see him even without looking at him directly.

It was as if in a second, he could absorb all the landscape around to make you focus on him and him only. Changkyun sighed and finally looked at you, his sharp eyes giving you the same chills as usual, the ones you weren't able to prevent and that made every single hair on your body stand.

"Why not? It's the university I wanted, should I say sorry?" he asked with the only tone he used with you, and you could perceive it even if it was hushed.

"What major are you in?" you pursued, praying it would differ from yours.

"Finance."

You sighed in relief because you had chosen marketing and strategic management, as its spirit had always been around you with the commercial environment your parents had raised you in. You hadn't wanted to push your experience and knowledge on the side, and chose to use it to be even better than your parents, in a bigger frame, and hopefully a different field.

"Now can you stop with the examination? You told me two days ago that I should stay out of your life and here you are according me all your attention, does it make sense?" he added as he wrote something on his notebook.

You hadn't missed his cocky side – well maybe you had – but after so much time apart from him, you couldn't deal with it as patiently as before, so your blood boiled the second he started to pull the sarcastic card with you, making you kick his calf under the table. He snapped back his head in your direction, eyes opened wide and filled with annoyance, and you forced yourself to keep yours on your notebook you finally filled with messy notes. But soon enough, you being right-handed and him left-handed, you began to bother each other, your elbows never ceasing to bang. Having him beside you was enough to make you hypersensitive ; touching him above all was scratching the last willpower you had inside of you to remain still as if he was unknown.

"Oh my goodness would you stop eating up my personal space or what?" he finally whispered, giving you one more nudge.

"They say left-handed people are weird, I get why you're such a dork" you joked without moving and you saw him put his pen down to pinch his nose bridge.

How could you be joking with him?

"We're original, you should use the right words."

"Soooo original that you dye your hair grey like any Instagram girl would do."

Why are you still taking to him?

You heard him chuckle and, weirdly, a smile crept up your lips that you bit not to show it.

"At least I have a proper back-to-school outfit those Instagram girls would love and tag, because yours…"

You quickly looked at yourself, with a pair of boyfriend jeans, a sweater you shouldn't have found in your wardrobe in the first place and unmatching socks, and you clicked your tongue against your palate, making him smile without you seeing. What was happening? He was like he had been at first last summer, annoying you but in a harmless way – the way that made you fall for him –, while the last time you properly spoke he had been the worst bastard in South Korea. Did distance and time help him to reflect on what he had done to you? So much that you were laughing and joking together like classmates would do? This wasn't right, you shouldn't be so peaceful with him next to you, so you soon refrained yourself from sympathizing any longer.

Changkyun saw immediately your change of attitude as you shifted in your seat and fixed your gaze on the board, no longer hiding behind your hair to talk to him, and his heart missed a beat. But it was nothing compared to how much he had missed you. He had missed seeing you work at his side, he had missed your profile, he had missed your upset tone, and he had missed just having the right to look at you like he was right now, soon forgetting to keep up with the class and to write the formulas. STOP. Stand your ground.

Neither of you would have imagined that your reunion would be the way it was now. It was as if nothing had ever happened, as if the 6 months never created the hole you thought it had, as if he had never hurt you nor kissed you and you just had met him again under other circumstances, recovering naturally the cat and dog relationship you had gotten used to. As if you still liked him the way you did, forgetting the feelings you grew for Hwimin as the ones Changkyun owned just took back their place.

Everything was wrongfully right, how your hearts were beating fast but in some harmony you weren't aware of yet, how each other's presence disturbed as much as it pleased you, and how, as freaking as it was for you to admit, you both felt something lit up definitively in your chest, after it had started to sparkle two days ago at the subway station.

When the bell rang, you threw your things into your backpack and stormed to the door, excusing yourself a second time to your professor, and soon your best friend was running after you as you were walking away as fast as you could.

"Ya! Why are you in such a hurry?! We're not late to the next class so slow down!"

"He's here, Solhee!"

You stopped in your tracks in the hallway, looking for the closest exit to you. You needed to breathe properly, you needed to float back after having drowned into your emotions the moment you saw him, making you unable to swim through them and think properly.

"Who?" Solhee asked, her brows raised and she turned around to see what you were looking at.

Changkyun had just gone out of the classroom and you saw him quickly hug someone, who you soon recognized as Hoseok once he faced your direction and started to walk by his side. The world is way too small. You suddenly remembered Hoseok's answer when you had asked him where he was studying at the party, but you had forgotten about it with the distress of the events that had followed.

"Changkyun." you sighed.

Solhee gasped when she finally saw the man that had caused you that much trouble with her own two eyes for the first time, and she grabbed you by the sleeve before shaking it crazily. You were over the panic stage now, you had dealt with it way better than you thought through the first hour, almost too well as you had even managed to smile at his sentences instead of wanting to murder him the second he opened his mouth.

And the second he passed you, his footsteps matching the pace of your heartbeat, you knew nothing had changed ; your feelings had just stood quiet but never faded away, and they were now screaming inside of you, tearing everything apart and ruining every single bit of the wall you had tried to build between him and you.

***

Nothing had changed, neither had Changkyun's disowned feelings for you when he saw you the next day, sitting close to the window and chatting with the girl you had arrived late with. You were lit by the morning rays of the sun, and it was as if he was going blind, seeing nothing except for you, shining like you already did back then. Having kept his mouth shut, having forbidden his inner emotions from getting released made him feel sick at your sight, chills running down his spine while his head was burning. Just like you had been, Changkyun was still having a difficult time to deal with the surprise comeback you had made in his life, and as his eyes were getting teary from the non-stop staring, he cursed himself when he heard his name called.

"Im Changkyun, am I right?"

You hadn't seen him coming in, so you looked behind you to see him sitting a few seats away. You pinched yourself but he didn't disappear, and your best friend didn't miss this chance to remind you how cursed you must be.

"Yes, ma'am" he said calmly as he stood up, under the eyes of the hundredth students in the room.

"Stop staring at this beautiful lady, would you? And come to the board to solve this problem instead" the teacher said, earning some laughs and boos but also your shocked look when you understood that she had been referring to yourself.

Changkyun shrugged nonchalantly and walked to the white board before taking the felt pen to write down an answer which, to your great surprise, was the right one. Everybody clapped him and the teacher jokingly added to your attention :

"He's already fond of you and he's smart, you can go to him, miss!"

You gulped and gazed over your shoulder to see Changkyun smile cockily, his left ankle resting on his right knee and his arms extended at his sides as if he was sitting in his sofa back home. But when you looked with more attention, you saw his ears turning red, sign of the embarrassment he was going through and that shook you twice more. Had he really been staring at you?

Nothing had changed, neither had chance that was against you since the very beginning of your relationship. Two days had gone by and you already were having a hard time ignoring Changkyun's ghost roaming around you, costing you his visits in your dreams where you couldn't escape and had to face his beautiful traits. For the very first time in your life, you were thankful to have loads of homework in no time, helping you to focus on anything but him, anything but the spark that won't stop from itching next to your heart, anything but your fate laughing at you.

Once again, you should have known better than to go down the path leading you towards him with your eyes closed, as it only made worse the times you had to face him inevitably. Indeed, until the end of the week, there wasn't a day where you didn't see him. In the hallways, in the classrooms and amphitheaters as his course had a lot of common classes with yours, in the cafeteria where he would sit in your sight wherever you would go, on the campus where he would play football with other boys… And every single time, you felt the hands of love pull at the strings of your heart, causing the same pain you had felt during all August after he had been an asshole, and that went on until Hwimin came into your life to untie them a little.

But their grip was ten times harder now, as you were realizing it had taken only a few days for your feelings you tried to bury to free themselves every time, as if they were zombies craving to eat up your heart. So what was going to happen to you as you were going to see him during all four seasons? Would you be able to move on?

It had just been a week, and you already weren't hating on him anymore, as all your brain did was betraying you every single time it diverted your eyes to his silhouette. Your best friend diagnosed you with the Stockholm syndrome, as you liked the person who had caused you so much pain and had been nothing else but rude to you, and she scolded you every once in a while when she caught you staring at him in class without even realizing it.

He wasn't paying attention to you like you did, as every time you watched he was talking joyfully with his new friends, or even seemed to be flirting with girls that appreciated his cocky demeanor as much as you did. And even if Solhee ended up making you pinky promise not to get flustered because of Im Changkyun and ignore him all year long so that he wouldn't hurt you anymore, how were you supposed to stay true to your word when even the university brought the two of you together continuously?

On the Monday of the second week, you had a law class about contracts between companies, which Changkyun attended too. Your hands were aching from all the definitions you were noting, and you felt relieved when the professor took a break to announce the first project you had to do. He split the students in two groups, each one having a company as a client, and you had to prepare your arguments to defend them in a contract conflict. He explained you'll get to advocacy before the class in groups of 4. Speaking in public wasn't really a matter to you as you were a good speaker and were used to talk with your parents' clients, but somehow this time you felt uneasy, especially because Changkyun was on your opponent's side and you feared fate would make you go against him.

You decided to go to the library to work on it after classes, around 5 pm. It was gigantic and full of quiet students, with their heads already in their books and computers, and it hit you that university gathered at least ten times the amount of students your high school had, making you regret your decision of stepping in as it was going to be a never-ending hunt. You finally rushed to the first place you saw in the corner of the immense room, at a table hidden between bookshelves, and you dropped your things on it before leaving to purchase the books you needed to study.

You were walking slowly between the wooden alleys, amazed at how organized they were, when you finally found your prey. But when you were about to put your hand on it to take it with you, another one coming from the other side of the bookshelf grasped it, and soon the work disappeared in front of your eyes. You bent to observe who was the person that had a hold of it through the shelves, willing to ask him or her to lend it to you just for one hour as it was the last one, but what you saw blocked your voice in your throat.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but I need this too" Changkyun whispered to your attention with a sly smile and wiggling brows, making you want to reach your hand above the books and smack him.

He blew you a kiss and you almost had a heart attack at this sight, freezing for a few seconds in your spot while your mouth had turned dry, but when he suddenly disappeared you sped up to catch him in his alley. However, Changkyun had already walked away and you sighed in defeat, going back to your place without paying attention to the boy in the seat in front of yours, a book opened wide before him. Until your eyes met his and you gasped, as every time he randomly appeared in front of you.

"You want it so bad that you followed me?" he whispered, leaning his elbows on the table and smiling – again – at you.

"I didn't see you, or I wouldn't be there, believe me." you replied, rolling your eyes at the same time.

You quickly put on your earphones, refusing to hear another octave coming from his low voice that made your body and heart quiver, and you did the best you could to concentrate on your law notes that scorched your cells, hoping you'd come up with at least one argument. However, as usual, Changkyun's presence ended up distracting you. He was so close you could smell his perfume again, a mix of something masculine and really fresh, that made you want to huddle against him as well as push him far away. He had put his black hood on his greyish hair that was messy on his forehead. You noticed how his lips were slightly apart, mouthing silently some words he seemed to be reading to remember, and you were amazed at the new side of him you were observing, the good student one, and you fell for it as well as you had with the others, not that it surprised you anymore.

When he suddenly lifted his head to look at you, you closed your eyes and feigned to be memorizing in your own but really weird way. You slowly opened them when you felt something slip to you, poking against your forearms on the table and you saw the book opened before you with Changkyun's hands spread on it.

"You can have it." he simply said before retiring his hands decorated with rings, which made his pianist's fingers even more beautiful.

"Are you really being nice to me for the first time in your life?" you asked, truly shocked by his sudden rush of kindness.

"Should I change my mind then?" Changkyun answered, starting to slide back the book to him.

You put your hands on his without thinking twice, regretting it the second you felt his skin under yours, but you were really desperate to use this book. The boy looked at your hands on his with curious eyes, his brows furrowed and his head tilted to the side, before inspiring some air with a weird noise.

"Why did you take it in the first place if you were going to use it for like…Ten minutes?" you mumbled shyly, starting to pull to your side of the table.

"It's been twenty, and I took pictures of what I needed."

He retired his hands under yours with an abrupt move that surprised you, a look of annoyance clear on his traits as he backed in his seat and poked his cheek with his tongue, and you slowly brought the book close to you, a familiar hot feeling creeping up your cheeks. Yes, he felt upset, because you didn't seem that flustered to have touched him while he had lost any sensations in his hands, putting them in the pockets of his hoodie so that you didn't see them tremble.

What he didn't notice though, was that you were hiding behind the book to prevent him from seeing how easy it was for him to fluster you. As time passed by, you finally forced yourself to work now that you had the book in your hands so no excuse to daydream, and the library started to empty itself as well as your table.

Changkyun wasn't willing to leave until you were, him too looking at you while you were working and feeling as swayed as you. Seeing your lips slightly swollen from how hard you were biting at them as you were concentrating made him think of that one time he had kissed you, and he wondered if it would feel the same if he did it with a sober mind, if he had only felt everything he had because of alcohol, or if doing it again would dangerously make him stop lying to himself.

Night fell soon, and the library was about to close when you tidied up your desk and picked up the books you had borrowed to put them back into their places. You felt satisfied with what you had crafted, even if you would have done twice its amount hadn't it been for Changkyun facing you, but you felt proud nonetheless as you overcame his presence. Students were hurrying around you to the exit but you didn't catch on the last warning the supervisor made as you still had music in your ears. You were in the archives' alleys, situated upstairs, and you were having a hard time trying to reach the shelf you had to put your last book on, when suddenly you felt someone behind you taking the work out of your hands and place it on your behalf.

You turned around to thank your savior but you were met with Changkyun's chest really close to yours, his right arm still frozen in the air above your head as you surprised him by moving so quickly, and you looked at each other without a word. His face was as close as when he had been about to kiss you, his small lips forming a thin line while yours were apart, and you felt your heart fly up to your throat, ready to go out and offer itself in his hands.

Suddenly, all the lights turned off. You jumped in fear, your chest bumping against his torso and instinctively, Changkyun got closer to you, pushing you against the bookshelf with his right hand grabbing the shelf he had been reaching, while his left arm wrapped itself around you in a protective way. You stopped breathing, suffocated by the unexpected physical contact you had for the first time, and even more because he didn't let go of you even by the time he should have realized how weird it was. When you realized how close he was, you couldn't prevent yourself from lifting your chin to try to look at his face – how stupid.

Then, even if you weren't really sure of what you were seeing because of the darkness, it seemed like he was starting to close the gap between your face and his. You panicked at this image so you closed your eyes, grasping the ends of your oversize shirt and tightening the fabric to the point your nails left their traces in your palms. You were about to make a move too, his lips calling for you and yours craving to taste them after so long, but as soon as you remembered the disastrous sequels of your first kiss and how it had meant nothing to him, you went out of your trance.

"Would you let me go?!" you finally exclaimed, the dim light of the moon and public lightning coming through the windows outlining his silhouette that took a step back, freeing you from his hug.

"I'm-I'm…sorry, I was s-surprised" he stuttered, scratching his neck with his hand.

He had had his nose in your hair that smelled like honey and flowers, and he surely got drunk for a second because of it, losing track of time and his primary senses that would have warned him he was being creepy by keeping you in his arms. And the moment he had seen you look at him and your lips so close to his, he had felt the same way he had the first time he had had this privilege, the desire to kiss you pushing his neck forward towards you. Had you noticed his attempt?

"Sure, fuckboy" you hissed, annoyed by the return of your wobbling legs at his touchy behavior.

Had he even tried to kiss you? Or wasn't it you who imagined things because that's what you had wanted? In either way, you felt dizzy just by thinking you had been ready to initiate a kiss or wish for one even after all the things he had done to you.

"Hey, that was-"

You quickly grabbed your phone in the back pocket of your jeans and activated its lamp, and before he could answer to your insult, you went down the big spiral staircase in a rush, shouting the intendant's name, in vain. You were alone in the library, in the dark, and you ran towards the entry to discover you were locked up. You started to bang on the door and call for any help, but you saw through the glasses that the hallways were as dark and empty as the room you were in. People sure know how to hurry themselves when they're heading home.

"Would you come down and help me?" you shouted to his attention, returning to the back of the library.

"What for? There's nobody, and I'm fine being locked in here, at least I have all the books I want right now and no one to annoy me" he answered without bothering to go down.

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Would you stop screaming?" he hissed, his voice also getting higher. "I almost forgot you when I said no one to annoy me... Go get panicked on your own, I'm fine looking at everything I want right now."

You scoffed, disbelief and irritation gaining you and you started to walk back and forth in the big room to expel it. Was he really going to be difficult in such a situation?

"Did they check on us? Did they call us? Because I swear if they did and you didn't tell me I'm gonna kill you!" you started to fulminate again while Changkyun was still upstairs, but a hand on his heart to feel its crazy beating after having held and almost kissed you, instead of admiring the books like he had said.

So she's okay with what just happened? Didn't she tell me she likes me? Is it over? Why am I the one dying here?

"Why would you think I'd do this?" he asked in return, his voice almost a moan as he was dealing with his emotions, while his face was turning red and sweat was drooling on his body.

"I don't know, the second the lights turn down, you take me in your arms like some creepy guy and now you have no problem staying locked here with me, so maybe that's your fuckboy thing…"

So she didn't notice.

"Aish here you go again. Since when am I a fuckboy?"

You stopped in your tracks and lifted your head to where the archives were, discovering he was in the same spot you had left him.

"What a great way to appreciate books, standing still" you pointed, crossing your arms on your chest.

"Since when am I a fuckboy?" he reiterated in a more serious tone, this time walking to the rope separating the floor from the void under his feet.

"Since I've seen you at the pool party." you immediately answered to see his face contort in an expression of confusion.

You couldn’t be stuck in here with him, and the situation itself was driving you crazy. You wouldn't survive being alone with him another time, you knew it, as you were already struck by the symptoms he poisoned your body with each time. Do not get flustered, you promised Y/N. However, you had started to when you had almost succumbed to your deepest temptation the second you had landed your eyes on his face close to yours.

Changkyun stopped breathing as your words hit his throat like a knife, and he felt sorry again for what he had done to you. But what eased his mind was, as you had expected and were regretting, he also caught that the pool party was still lingering in your mind as it did in his.

"It was just a game, Y/N." he said, but in reality it was more to reassure himself.

You felt your heart compress itself, apparently still affected by this stupid kiss and how he hadn't felt the same things you had. Nope, he didn't try to kiss you girl. Amazing, you're seeing things now.

Changkyun's eyes opened wide as he saw your traits decompose at his answer, remembering it hadn't been just a game for you back then. Shit Im Changkyun.

"Yeah sure, thanks for reminding me captain obvious." you mumbled.

"What? You wanted it to be something else? Ah right, you liked it..."

His dumbass and playful mind spoke on his behalf and he bit his tongue a little too late. What are you doing Changkyun?

You shot him a deadly glare in payback of the deadly arrow he just had shot you, burning from rage and embarrassment. You were about to scream at him to fuck off, but when you saw a trash can in front of you full off crushed papers, you stormed to it under his scared eyes, and you came back in his sight to throw some at him, your arms trembling from the overfull of emotions.

"Are-you-fucking-kidding-me?!" you finally screamed, each word accompanied by a ball of paper.

Changkyun was so surprised that he only defended himself at the third shot, stepping back to where you couldn't reach him.

"How dare you say something like that?! You're fucking disgusting! Who do you think you are?!"

"Hey hey hey ! I'm sorry! I was just kidding, why are you taking it that seriously? Calm down!" he apologized, extending his hands before him to surrender.

You didn't know what to answer, as it was risking to admit you were that affected because you still had feelings for him and that the souvenir he had brought up was the most painful one to you, even more now that you had been about to play it again. With him making fun of it above all, just made your heart ache as it showed you another time he was only on the receiving end, not giving you anything in return that could be close to him liking you.

"I was listening to my music too, Y/N. I couldn't hear them" he spoke up as he looked at you from his height. "So stop your assumptions and imagining things about me, it's pretty annoying."

You felt overpowered by him as he was staring at you, lazily leaned on the wooden rope.

"I know how much of a jerk you can be, sorry for making scenarios that suit you too damn well." you replied back while you started to search for the university's number on the internet.

"Y/N I-"

"Hello? Yes, we're two students locked up in the library and…"

Changkyun stopped listening to what you were saying as an internal struggle took place in his mind, a part of him dying to snatch your phone from your hands as he wanted this moment to last, another one screaming as usual to "stand his ground" and to play the indifferent one. But the more he was standing still and looking at you, shining upon the darkness of the room surrounding you, the more his leg was jumping up and down from torment, and he stopped the debate by going straight to you. He had just reached the last step and was about to take action when your last words petrified him :

"Yes, thank you."

You turned around and when you saw him right behind you, you gasped and took a step back.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"N-Nothing… I wanted to hear what the watchman was saying, that's all."

"Couldn't you wait like normal people would do?"

"You know I'm not" he seemingly joked, a smile curving his lips and giving him that jerk vibe you hated and loved so much at the same time. You must be crazy Y/N.

"He said he's sending someone but it'll take a little time as we are at the other side of the campus. Now stay away from me."

"I'm sorry about earlier" he reiterated in a low, almost hushed tone, and you looked at him without moving further as you had planned to, and the obscurity around you participated to your loss of focus on anything except for him.

"About what? There are too many things a jerk like you should be sorry for you know" you finally replied, averting your gaze to your phone.

You couldn't look at him anymore. Not with his face under the moonlight, not when your mouth was burning as it was dying to crash against his the more you looked at it.

"Then I'm sorry for whatever is fine by you" he said, taking a step forward and motioning his hands towards you, before putting them back in his hoodie's pockets when he saw you hadn't noticed.

He couldn't have been weaker than how he was at this right instant, but Changkyun finally felt he won't resist to you any longer, even more now that you didn't seem within his reach as you had been 6 months ago. He clearly saw in the way you looked and talked to him, that you had learned to despise him as he had wanted ; but crossing your path again had shaken him to the core, every part of him guided by fear, but not the one to love you, no ; the one to lose you. He had found you again, he had felt something again, and now that you were the one pushing him away, it was awakening his male instincts to run after you. Holding a girl in his arms hadn't felt this right, wanting to kiss her but not being able to had never killed and stimulated him the way it did now.

"I'm not interested, that's too easy" you chuckled. "And I still don't get why you're nice to me, but whatever your reason is, just stop."

Deep inside though, you were going crazy because of his identity changes in no time, from the mean giber to the nice charmer, and also because of how you managed to like every single part of him. What was happening to him? Why was he apologizing? You weren't going to fall for it ; it probably was in his favor and not in yours if you did.

"Aish, why are you being so difficult? I'm apologizing here!" he growled, his hand fumbling in his hair and when he turned his head to the side, his eyes caught one ray of the moon that made them shine like two stars in the deep galaxy you were sinking in.

You sneered, satisfied to see him destabilized and annoyed at your rejection, and you turned your back to him before walking to a seat that had been behind you.

"What about we share what we did for the law class? Then we can go together and have a great mark" he proposed as he sat in the middle of the stairs, with a little voice expressing his shyness as well as his fingers he was playing with between his legs.

"Ah, I see why you apologized, I was sure you wanted to get something from me. No thanks, I'm not interested in that either."

"I told you to stop making assumptions! It wasn't for that!" he complained. "I just saw you were having a hard time earlier and my father is a business lawyer so I could help! But fine!"

Changkyun lost his temper, slouching against the steps behind him and he looked at the ceiling to calm down, frustrated at how you kept putting his attempts at bay. He didn't know what to do ; still, he couldn't prevent himself from trying to reach you. And even when you annoyed him like you were right now, he couldn't find the strength he had had before to stand his ground as his armor had left him the second he had felt you close to him.

***

Guilty. You felt guilty for having been swayed so easily one more time. You felt guilty for having waited for your intern alarm to ring to stop yourself from kissing him, when you shouldn't have wanted to in the first place. Most of all, you felt guilty when you thought of how quick you seemed to have move on from your relationship with Hwimin, not thinking of him at all as Changkyun had your brain in his hands along with your heart now.

But at least, you were willing to try not to be convicted guilty by the jury today, as the day of the mock trials had come. During the week following your confinement in the library, you had caught Changkyun's gaze on you when you had thought he didn't care, but you had chosen to stop playing films in your mind or see things like you had as it only pushed you over the edge where a loveless relationship was waiting for you.

You had a hard time to fall asleep the night before, as you didn't feel confident in what you had planned to say to save your fake client, so when you arrived in the amphitheater, holding your notes close to you even once you were seated, you were oddly about to cry. What was happening to you? You had prepared, so what was wrong? Since when did you let your personal feelings interfere into your work life instead of dealing with it?

Changkyun noticed how pale you were when you entered and he didn't prevent himself from looking at you, concern arising in his chest. You hadn't addressed him a word after his offer in the library, simply sitting on your chair and your eyes glued to your phone. You both had waited for an intendant to come and free you from your prison of books, in a silence that had been as unbearable to Changkyun as white noise. He had opened and closed his mouth from time to time, searching for what he could say to make you talk to him or reachable again ; however, he hadn't dared, letting himself contemplate your silhouette in awe instead. He had made his decision that night, the one to chase you until you won't be afraid of him anymore, the one to do what he hadn't done back then, the one to finally assume his feelings for you as not doing so was only torturing him.

However, chance had decided to put some obstacles on his way to you once again, as the teacher picked both his name and yours to go against one another. You froze in your spot and dared to look at your opponent with unpleased eyes, but Solhee held your arm reassuringly, which gave you a boost of confidence. However, it was only a small one, only sufficient to help you go to the stage without falling because of your trembling legs. But when the guy you liked joined you, you could feel him absorb every ounce of assurance you had in you like the black hole he was, and you started to bit your bottom lip with anticipation.

Changkyun had begged any force above him to prevent you and him to go together, but it seemed he hadn't been heard. He was well prepared, maybe too much, but with his father's help and signature in his pleading, he knew he was about to crush any opponent he was going to face with his sledgehammer arguments. How he had wished it hadn't been you.

You could see how ready he was in the way he was walking before sitting next to the teacher on the platform to hear you first ; he even had styled his hair and put on suit pants with derbies. Shit, he's handsome. You had dared to put a dressy blouse, white with elegant embroideries, but you felt ridiculous next to him who had natural charism and an aura that devoured everything around you – and seemingly around all the girls that were staring at him lovingly.

You displayed your notes on the teacher's desk and started to talk with the best poker face you had, your hands linked together and your voice the loudest it could be with the stress lacing your throat. Changkyun was admiring you as you were defending your non-existent client, touching your hair from time to time without even realizing it, stuttering at the beginning of some sentences but never failing to keep on. He could see how anxious you were as you went back and forth on stage, pointing at him with less conviction than a real lawyer would, not daring to look your audience in the eye like you were doing with the market's clients, and he felt even sorrier to be speaking after as he knew he was more than prepared. He was formatted. His father had made him repeat again and again his speech, wanting his son to obtain a top mark as he had helped him. And if it hadn't been for him and for the time he had spared, Changkyun would have let you win or would have been less harsh. Unfortunately, he couldn't.

So he stood up at the end of your pleading, letting the students applaud you while the teacher was taking notes silently, and he placed himself right in front of the desk, his notes behind him without bothering to look at them. He didn't need to. He looked at you one last time over his shoulder, catching the distress in your pupils as well as some regret because you didn't do it perfectly like you had wanted to, but he had to put on the skin of a lawyer determined to win this case, and staring at you was only going to persuade him not to. He turned back to the rest of the room, and the moment he started to speak, you knew, the students knew, the teacher knew.

The moment he used humor, the moment he interacted with his fake jury, the moment he managed to smile, the moment his voice was the loudest you've ever heard and his words the fairest you've ever known coming from him, everybody knew he just had crushed you and that he had won. He was being the heartless business lawyer you've always pictured in your mind, so that when he looked at you and said your pleading was ridiculous before pointing at everything you said to turn it into shit, you felt tears pricking under your eyelids. Was it his revenge for you turning down his offer to collaborate?

Still, he was wonderful as a lawyer, with his deep tone captivating everyone's attention and his gait the most assured he had ever pulled ; with his perfect diction and his cocky demeanor perfectly in its place ; and you were already hanging your head low in defeat as you heard how loud the cheers were as well as the claps from your teacher.

Nevertheless, you hadn't expected the latter to be as harsh with you as he was about to be. You just wanted to go back to your place and let the students forget about your poor performance by seeing the following ones, but you ignored the teacher had chosen to do a feedback right after, in front of everyone.

"Well well well… I guess we all agree about who the winner is, right?"

The never ending cheers and calls for Changkyun's name were pressing your urge to cry, feeling mortified and disappointed at yourself. You had worked hard, but obviously, when it had to do with him, you always ended up in a situation of shame and deception. Changkyun was looking at you from the corner of his eye, his hands behind his back and his body swaying back and forth between his heels and his toes, as he was hanging on for the verdict.

"Im Changkyun, congratulations! You have to follow your father's steps!"

The boy bowed and you didn't dare to look at him, your eyes glued to your shoes as you only waited for this moment to end. His glory was your despair, his smile was your tears, his happiness was your suffering, and you couldn't handle it anymore. You still heard his speech in your mind, remembering every single adjective he employed to qualify your arguments, every single mockery he had made that had replaced the memory every student in the room would have of it, not even recognizing your hard work.

"Y/L/N Y/N… I hope you're not expecting to become a business lawyer, you don't have the cloth for it… I was yawning during your pleading, you had no confidence and your arguments, well, there were good ones but how you brought them… So regretful! I read your parents are market sellers, I hope you express yourself better when you talk with clients because I wonder how you convince them otherwise! I'm saying this for you of course; it's just that you need to be… more persuasive, hm?"

Changkyun shot a panicked glare to the teacher who was expecting your reaction, and some students started to whisper and laugh quietly while others were feeling sorry for you, which you hated even more. You didn't want anyone to pity you, it made you feel even more ridiculous. You caught the stare of your best friend in the crowd, her eyes filled with sorrow as you started to chuckle, laughing at yourself without even realizing it. Then, you only nodded, swallowing back your tears as you sadly smiled to your class.

"Sir, I think she also did a great job it was really hard for me to rebound on everything she said, she was well prepared" Changkyun suddenly spoke up, and you stared at him with anger in your eyes, unable to understand how he could play the nice one again when he had just trampled on you seconds ago.

"Ayyyyy, don't be so nice, there's a reason why you won and by evident majority boy! You can dispose! Now, who's next? After a performance like this one, I'm sure everyone's scared!"

You were knocked out. You went up to your sit and heard a few "You did well Y/N" on your way, but you didn't care. The teacher had humiliated you in a way that hurt too bad for you to recover from it anytime soon. Bringing up your parents in front of everyone, exposing your family's situation to judge you, was the worst he could have done, and he had. Solhee tried to grab you by the hand but you gently dismissed her, and for the last 45 minutes, you didn't hear nor pay attention to the wannabe-lawyers speaking in front of you. None of them received the same ovation as Changkyun, but he wasn't feeling victorious at all ; he had just torn your work apart so, once again, he was the reason you were about to cry and he hated himself for that.

When the bell rang, you told Solhee you wanted to be alone and you stormed to the exit, needing some fresh air and a quiet place to cry your heart out as it was drowned in your sadness. And as guilty as ever, once again running behind you as if he was attracted like a magnet, Changkyun caught your wrist as you had started to cross the grass to go straight to a lonely tree, as lonely as you.

"Y/N! I'm sorry I-"

You turned on your heels and shook your arm off his grasp abruptly, making his eyes open wide. Seeing your tear-stained face as well as anger in your eyes threw him back to the pool party, and his stomach started to knot.

"Oh save it Im Changkyun the greatest! Leave me alone!"

You moved forward again, but you felt his hand grab yours another time. And like the time at the pool party, you cried even more, but thankfully there were only the both of you on this side of the campus.

"Don't cry, you did really well he's just an asshole!"

"Oh no, what he said was right and you can't agree more can you? You said everything he thinks in your speech when you ridiculed my work! You wanted to help me last week? My ass! I'm pretty sure if I had given you any of my arguments in advance, I would've been murdered by your words by now! But well done! You won, congrats Changkyun! Now leave me the fuck alone!" you said as you started to applaud him.

You couldn't bear his face anymore, your heart was ripped and facing the one it had foolishly been beating for since summertime was killing it.

"You have no right to give me intentions I don't have, Y/N! I really wanted to help you, you refused but I'm over it! I didn't expect to go against you, you know? I told you I had my father to help me, it's all thanks to him, I would've said the same things with any of my opponents!"

"Oh really? You perfectly quoted my sentences before telling it's shit though, I doubt your father had predicted that or that everyone speaks like me so stop it already!" you burst out, your feet moving backwards two times, your need to be alone screaming at you to satisfy it.

Changkyun moved forward, matching his steps along with yours. He had made his decision, but unlike the previous ones he hadn't been able to stick to, this time he was sure of what he was doing, and his guts were there to help him carry it. He liked you, he fucking liked you, every cell of his brain, every beat of his heart, every motion of his body was telling it, so he was going to move forward to you, he was going to walk to you on the path chance had decided to trace between the both of you, and without being scared anymore.

"Listen to me Y/N" he tried.

"You can't stop humiliating me. It's like at the pool party. I'm crying again because of your stupid ass, and here you come to face me anyway." you said with a smile while tears were still wetting your cheeks, but you didn't care, no ; you were more than okay with him seeing how awful he was.

"Listen to me." he reiterated with a serious tone, his sharp eyes piercing you and giving you the same damn chills.

"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!" you shouted, pushing him suddenly, but what he did next caught you by surprise.

Changkyun held your wrists in the air before you could retract them, and he pulled at them to get you only a few inches from his body, his eyes landing on you under him and you saw, for the first time again, how determined he was.

"And I won't until you'll have listened to me." he hissed, your hands still in the air along with his, and when you tried to free yourself, he didn't even budge. "I'm tired of you speaking on my behalf, giving me intentions I don't even have and interpreting things wrongly. I've been quiet for too long, I've been a coward, but not anymore."

Your heart quickened its pace, and the tears instantly stopped from coming as you were shook by his boldness.

"Let go of me and I'll listen to you."

He instantly did and you took a few steps backwards, unable to stay that close to him as you knew what effect it had on you since the time at the library.

"I didn't want to humiliate you, never, ever. Not the first time at the pool party, not this time… I went after you out of concern, not with the intention to make you feel bad or whatever you're thinking. I'm here because I hate to see you cry… nothing else Y/N." he said calmly, his eyes never leaving your face that you were wiping as you were slowly processing the words you were hearing.

"Bullshit. I don't believe you. Since when you care." you answered, shaking your head from left to right in disbelief.

What is he saying? Him? Concerned?

"What I told you at the library remains sincere : I truly am sorry for what I did to you, back then. Kissing a girl in front of you and smiling at you when I already knew you liked me… Laughing at your feelings for me… Running away from you after you had confessed…"

"Stop it already!" you interfered, refusing to hear him talk about something so precious and so painful for you as if he was talking about the weather.

He walked to you once more but you didn't move, too tired to escape and only wanting him to finish his talking quickly so that you'll be able to go away. He was beautiful, the grey weather becoming brighter with him in the landscape, his white shirt shining and his hair styled perfectly, while his earrings gave him something more that you weren't going to handle for long.

"I now know why I've been doing all of this…" he started, trailing at the end of his sentence as he was searching for the right words. "I was a fucking coward, I was fucking scared of what you had done to me in no time. And I still am, yeah, but I'm sure that we're not meeting every time so randomly. I think there's a reason… And because I'm pushed towards you all the time, I have to stop denying and admit it…"

"No. No no no. Shut up. Stop" you mumbled, panic rising in your chest as his hands were slowly coming to brush your hair.

His eyes were still locked on yours, and you saw that their pupils didn't tremble nor avoided your gaze, showing you how assured he was. Changkyun's heart was beating slowly for the first time he was near you, proving him he was more than sure of his feelings and encouraging him to confess, even if the look of defiance in your eyes was killing him. It's not too late. Is it…?

"I like you, Y/N. I'm sorry, but I like you. I'm sorry for being so late. But jeez, I've liked you since this summer."

Your jaw dropped, your eyes mirrored your shock as some tears formed in their corners while they were wide open. But the second his hands caressed your hair, you felt a wave of anger carry you.

"I don't believe you. I don't fucking believe you. You gotta be kidding me" you spat, pushing his hands away from your head in a quick move.

You saw his face fall into worry, but then he looked away and sighed, as if he had prepared himself for this answer and wasn't going to get affected by it. You started to laugh sarcastically, combing your hair with one hand before letting it fall to your side, your body flabby from the electroshock of emotions.

"I'm sure of how I feel. I told you you need to stop thinking for me, you're not in my head" he answered, his voice monotone and he looked at you again, his hands now in the pockets of his black suit pants.

You couldn't believe it. You didn't believe him. You didn't want to. He had no right to like you back after all this time. He had no right to reclaim your love after pushing you away all this time.

"You can't possibly like me, or you would never have treated me that way. And I hate you. I hate all of you. You're so selfish for thinking I would wait for you forever. You took me for granted, didn't you? Who do you think you are?!" you pursued, starting to poke his chest angrily but he didn't stop you, knowing perfectly he deserved this kind of reaction.

"I like you." he said again, blinking slowly as he did so but not failing to keep his eyes on yours so that you would trust him.

Those three words made you sick with the usual symptoms, but this time an ounce of happiness was opening the wings of some butterflies in your stomach, while the spark in your chest was burning as it never did.

"And I hate you. Fuck you, Changkyun. Fuck you!" you exclaimed again, your voice raspy because of the sobs that were threatening to come.

"I'll prove it to you" he assured with his beautiful low voice that entered your body to move you to the core.

"I won't believe you, ever. I don't even care. Get out of my sight." you finally cracked, your voice weakening.

Unexpectedly, Changkyun nodded silently and he started to part from you, firstly by going backwards to look at you one more time, then turning around, and all you could see was his broad back getting smaller and smaller. He was getting out of reach like he had always been, and even if a part of you was aching to run after him and return his feelings, another one couldn't sort things out and hadn't recover from the hurt he had caused you.

How could he be liking you when he had let himself hurt you the way he did? How could he suddenly open his eyes on his feelings and think you'd say yes? How awful was it for him to unveil his feelings once he had felt ready, without taking into account how you had suffered from thinking it had been one sided all this time?

***

To be continued...

A/N : Thank you thank you thank you again… I think there’ll be only two more parts! I’m writing Part 4 right now, I’ll post it soon!

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