#and in this situation I don’t understand why she is not dead…apart from the obvious trope

[hyunnieshannie]

CLOSE | HJ ~ SMAU

Chapter 9: "A rabid Kitten whore, a monster and a feral fox" Series Master list | General Master list

FAIR WARNING: THIS CHAPTER WAS PROOFREAD BY A TEAM OF : 2 HAN QUOKKAS, 5 JINIRETS, AND 6 LEEBITS AND YOU CAN TELL IT WAS.

Word Count: 6.2k General Warnings: Strong Language, Mentions of alcohol, bar fight, mentions of blood, mentions of anxiety/panic attack, a lot of bullying. Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, this does not represent the idols mentioned in any way.

Hyunjin, Bin, and Jisung were walking out of Bin’s apartment when they ran into Liza outside.

“Oh, where are you going? I thought we were pregaming?” Liza whines, slightly pouting her lips.

“Yeah we had a few shots, but we’re meeting everyone else at their dorms.” Jisung said as he tugged his coat tighter around himself.

“Why didn’t you wait for me to do shots?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. Jisung saw Hyunjin roll his eyes.

“We told you to be here by 6:45, we were gonna be late if we waited any longer.” Bin said as he started walking past Liza.

“Well, can’t they wait? You’re the one who's paying to get them in, no?” Liza said, causing Bin to stop dead in his tracks. Jisung quickly interjected.

“Liza, let's just go, we’re gonna be late.” Jisung started nudging her forward.

The walk to the ‘Chaos-Dorm’ was all but pleasant. The air between everyone was tense, and awkward. Liza huffed a few times, clearly frustrated that she once again did not get her way. Hyunjin spent most of the time looking at his phone, amusing himself with whomever he was messaging. Changbin walked fast and ahead of the group as much as he could. Wanting to have enough distance between him and Liza. He had already been stressed out due to her joining, and for the first time ever meeting Felix. He wasn’t nervous for Felix to meet her, he was genuine and friendly. Everyone loves Felix, but Liza was stuck in her own world; unwilling to part from it. Surely she’d find reason to dislike him. Not only was Changbin upset about that, but upset at how she’d constantly pushed off the fact that Felix was indeed not female. He’d mentioned a few times of seeing a partner, never once mentioning a gender; though confusion might be understandable he thought it was obvious enough to the world he wasn't exactly straight. Gay? No. Bisexual? Yes, and he’d thought his friends would have the decency to have noticed. Only now, recently he started realising how ‘good’ of a friend Liza really was.

Jisung felt really uncomfortable the entire time. He was incredibly happy when they finally got to the chaos dorm, hopefully Chan would be able to diffuse the situation. He kind of doubted it though, considering how ridiculous Liza was being lately. He wasn't happy with her tagging along either. He was hoping the night would be more fun and stress free, yet here he is, full of stress and not having a great time, and it was only 7pm.

Screaming sounded from inside the ‘chaos-dorm’, as expected from a dorm room who named themselves that. Jisung smiled lightly, when he heard your scream coming from inside, followed by a fit of loud laughter. 

“What the hell is going on in there?” Liza grimaced. Changbin opened the door to the dorm quickly and shuffled inside, “They don’t lock their door?” Hyunjin rolled his eyes again and made his way inside.

“They expected us,” Jisung sighed, as he pushed past Liza. Before he could fully get through the door she quickly latched on to him, acting as if she were scared and shy from the new people. Which Jisung knew was all for show, to gain some sort of favour from them. 

“BINNIE!” Felix yelled, attacking his boyfriend with a hug, smothering his face in kisses. 

“YO, WHERE WERE YOU YESTERDAY YOU NEVER SHOWED UP TO WALK WITH US!?” You yell out, lightly smacking Changbin’s arm. Changbin let out a loud laugh, smiling down at you. 

“I had some things to finish up, I texted Lix didn’t he tell you?” 

“I forgor….” Felix pouted,

“Please stop speaking in memes, you're so cringe.” Minho laughs, 

Liza stopped dead in her tracks and took in the scene in front of her. Felix clinging to Changbin, as Changbin gave the widest smile; one she’d never seen from him, never been given to her by him, nor even knew he was capable of doing. Seungmin on the couch whispering into Mini’s ear as she giggled at whatever he was telling her. Her blood truly began to boil when she looked for Chan, who sat next to Kitty, holding her side as he offered her another shot of soju, a slight blush and a shy smile plastered on his face. Liza’s grip on Jisung’s arm tightened the more she looked around. 

“MY HUSBAND HAS ARRIVED!” Minho yells out, and the attention in the room finally falls to him, and Liza who stood nearly glued to him, 

“I’m your husband now? Did I miss our wedding?” Jisung laughs as he attempts to pull his arm from Liza’s grip.

“Friday remember, you called me your housewife, how could you forget already! Delete my number.” Minho stomps and crosses his arms over his chest, giving his best pout.

“I’m sorry my love, I was quite drunk. Could you forgive me?” Jisung laughs, softening his eyes, smiling from ear to ear. 

“How can anyone be mad at such a cute face,” Minho sighs, “bring it here.” Minho opens his arms beckoning for Jisung to come into them. Jisung tried his best to walk over to Minho, but was pulled back instantly by Liza. 

“Don’t leave me please,” she whispered shyly, a loud enough whisper for the people around them to hear, but soft enough to make it seem it wasn’t intentional. 

“I’m sorry love, we haven’t met!” Felix smiles, “Gather round heathens, we have a new one today!” Seungmin finally brings his head back up, looking towards Felix and back to Jisung and Liza. He hides himself behind Mini, letting out a groan before getting up.

You have been watching Jisung since he came in. The girl that attached herself to his arm was the very same girl that was judging you so harshly the other day in class when you were late. She looked absolutely shell-shocked and you really didn’t know why, but you could see her knuckles turning white as she gripped Jisungs arm tighter. Jisung didn’t look very happy to you, he looked… annoyed? Irritated? You noticed he was fighting to remove her hand from his arm. Honestly, Jisung seemed like having his girlfriend around was a burden. You felt slightly bad for her. 

“I’m Felix!” Felix squeals, as Changbin hugs him from behind. “I’m Binnie's boyfriend, as you may know!” 

“No, I actually didn't.” Liza sighs, “My name is Elizabeth. My friends call me Liza.” 

“Pleasure to meet you!” Felix smiles, how could anyone ever dislike someone with such a warm smile? Such an inviting personality? It just shouldn’t be possible. 

“Minho.” Minho shrugs, Jisung could sense Minho had already made a decision on how he felt about Liza. Maybe he could tell the shyness she wore was fake. 

“Ignore him, he’s always cold to new people,” Mini laughed, punching Minho in his arm. “My name’s Mini!” 

“Minnie? Like the mouse?” Liza smiled, 

“Mini like tiny.” Mini laughed, “A nickname, but I prefer it.” 

“You’re not very tiny…” Liza said quietly, 

“Precisely why they gave it to her, tall and scawy,” Kitty grinned, “Imagine you’re in some gang fight and they go ‘Get Mini. She’ll get rid of them.’ and out walks that fucking giant?” 

“I’m five foot nine. I am not a giant.” 

“Wow! You’re so tall,” Liza smiled, “I feel so small, I’m only like five, five. Ahh I’m so tiny!!” She quickly hid her face in Jisung’s arm. You noticed his look of discomfort.

“Kitty’s shorter, she’s five two…” Jisung mumbled

“I fuckin heard that, I may be small but I can beat your ass Han,” Kitty said as she pulled her fists up. Chan grabs her arms and pulls them back down, giggling at her.

“May be small, but she is mighty. Now where have I heard that quote before?” Jisung laughs, 

“Sorry, I’m Kitty,” she says as Chan makes her wave her hand towards Liza like a puppet. “Channie, seriously why are you like this?”

“Kitty? Your parents named you Kitty?” Liza asks

“It’s not my actual name, but it's a nickname I'm very fond of,” Kitty nods as she smacks at Chan's hands, grabbing one and placing a feather light kiss on it.

“I see.” 

Just then Jeongin burst through the door, panting as he ran to his room. A minute later, he came back out standing with the rest of the group. Liza’s eyes immediately fixated on him. Now this one isn't like the others. She thought to herself, no. This one is like us. Why is he here? Jeongin waited for a moment before walking up to Kitty, giving her a small kiss on the cheek, proceeding to do the same with Mini, and lastly you.

“Sorry I’m late my loves,” Jeongin smiled sweetly, taking a shot, “But I’m ready to go whenever,” he turned to face Liza, “Ah, hello.” 

“Hi,” Liza smiled, sweetly at him. Genuinely. 

“My name’s Jeongin!” 

“Liza, nice to meet you,” she smiled wider now, as Jeongin beamed at her before turning back around to make his way back to his spot between Kitty, and Mini. 

Kitty motioned to you, “you didn’t-”

“No need. I know who she is,” Liza said blankly, “Put on quite a show in class.” Liza scoffed, 

Liza looked at you with a slight look of disgust, Jeongin stopped dead in his tracks, his face quickly went from happy to annoyed, giving Mini and Kitty a look. A look that asked ‘what the fuck’. Mini shook her head slightly, letting him know to let it go for now. He took a deep breath in before settling in his spot, his face once more returning to the cheerful boy he was. 

“Now that we’re all introduced, shots, and then lets go!” Mini smiled. 

~ ~ ~ 

The club's music radiated through Jisungs body, the bass sending waves through him. The energy from the club, making him wish he could join his friends on the dance floor and join in on the fun, however, he was stuck at your table in the VIP section, babysitting Liza. He watched from the table, how his friends all seemed to be laughing and having fun.

The way Chan hovered over Kitty, slowly swaying to the beat of the music, clearly in their own world, and constantly brought her face in close to his every chance he could.

How Jeongin had managed to charm a girl at the bar, and they were dancing in the centre of the room. He watched as Felix and Changbin were physically glued to each other, lips always connected in a searing kiss that made Jisung blush when he caught a glimpse of it.

He watched how Seungmin wrapped his arms over Mini’s hips and pulled her close to his body, her back flushed against his chest, his head in the crook of her neck, as she reached her hands over her head, to play with his hair. All of them having a good time, he was too. Even if he was stuck with Liza, until he looked a little over to the left. Where he caught a glimpse of Hyunjin, pulling you into him. He kept a respectful distance, but the way you moved, the way he was the one dancing with you. Something about it bothered him.

Liza excused herself to the washroom for a moment, finally. A moment where he didn’t need to walk on eggshells. Jisung pulls out his phone and begins to type furiously on his phone, the image of you and Hyunjin burning in his mind. He looks around the room, four black walls; neon lights and fog machines everywhere.

The walls that were coloured are all black,

He wrote. Still. I can’t figure out what happens in the tunnel. Should I just erase it? He thought to himself, as he lost himself in his song once more. He looked up to see you smiling brightly at Hyunjin as he made a stupid face at you.

They were coloured by you,

“GOD,” Minho sighs as he plops back down on the couch, “You are the most boring mother fucker here you know that?” He laughs, 

“How do you figure?” Jisung smiles, as he raises his glass to take another sip of his beer. 

“You’re sitting here looking like the most miserable fucker on the planet, that’s how I figure,” Minho says as he steals Jisung’s glass from his hand and finishes off the beer.

“Shut up Minho,” Jisung laughs, “I’m good here,” he lied. Minho scowled at him for a moment, 

“You’re a terrible liar, get up and take your girlfriend to dance! Have some fucking fun, you weren’t such a square on Friday what happened to you? This is not the soulmate I married.” Minho said, as he motioned for a hostess to bring him another drink. 

“She’s- Liza?!” Jisung coughed, 

“Yes, who else?” Minho questioned, as he raised an eyebrow in confusion, 

“Oh god, you thought we were dating?” 

“I mean, anyone would with the way she clings to you.” Minho leaned back, resting his arms on the bench, 

“She’s not my girlfriend! We’re just friends!” Jisung half screams.

“Have you told her that?” Minho nods in Liza’s direction as she made her way back from the bathroom.

“She’s like that with all of us,” Jisung sighed, 

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Minho shrugged, 

“She’s acting like this because everyone else is paired off tonight, and Jinnie is mad at her.” 

“Why’d you bring her then?” 

“Long story.” 

“Mmm, well instead of being absolutely miserable here, go dance. I’ll bitch-sit for you.”

“I couldn’t do that to you,” 

“It’s chill, I need a break anyways,” Minho smiled, “Plus you don’t look like you’re enjoying the view very much.” Minho smirked, as he looked towards you laughing with Hyunjin. Jisung got up, making his way out of the booth, “Oh by the way!” Minho called out, “Hyunjin’s, nice and all, but not her type.” Minho smirked. 

Jisung was unsure as to why Minho mentioned it, but his heart seemed to have calmed down.

Something had to be wrong with him. 

~ ~ ~

You were lost in your own world. Hyunjin had you twirling around, dipping you, and showing you the proper twerking technique. You were genuinely having such a great time, and it seemed that all of your friends were too. Everyone was paired off with someone. You had noted that Jisung was sitting at the table with Liza, but when you turned around he was gone and Minho was in his spot. You didn’t pay it any mind and continued to dance with Hyunjin, twirling him like he did you.

“Hey,” Hyunjin leaned in, in order for you to hear him, “I’m gonna get a drink and sit down for a bit okay?” You nodded at him, 

“Sure thing chief!” you smile and salute at him, he lets out a laugh before shaking his head and walking off to the bar. You continued to dance on your own when you felt hands on your mid-back. Jisung leaned down to speak to you; 

“Where do you think those two are going?” he smirked, bringing your attention to Chan and Kitty walking off the dancefloor hand in hand towards a more private and darker corner of the club.

“I don’t want to know,” you laughed, Jisung still hadn’t moved. He had his head pretty close to yours still. Unknown to you Jisung was going through it. God, she smells just like the rain. “Jisung- are you okay?” 

“Huh? Oh. Sorry I got distracted.” 

“By?” 

“Oh god, this is gonna sound so weird, but what perfume is that?” 

“Oh Felix got me a new one, I was complaining that I wanted to bottle the scent of rain so he got it for me,” you smiled, “and no not weird. Just…okay maybe a bit weird.” you laughed,

Jisung blushed a little bit. Why the hell am I blushing over that? What’s wrong with me? He realised that the two of you were standing completely still in the middle of the dance floor. “Oh, uh, do you… wanna dance… together?”

You nodded and Jisung situated himself behind you. His hands sat respectfully on your waist. You two swayed and danced to the loud music. He occasionally twirled you like Hyunjin did, less coordinated but still executing it well.

The two of you were giggling and laughing with each other as you danced. You had turned around a few times to face him and poke at his cheeks and chest, and he would return your poking with light pinches to your sides and a boop to your nose. Jisung was situated behind you again when a more sensual song came on. You looked over at your table to see Liza staring daggers at you and Jisung. You suddenly felt incredibly self aware of how close you and Jisung were to each other.

“Isn’t your girlfriend gonna get mad with you this close to me…” 

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” 

“But-” 

“Liza is just a friend.” He smiles, 

“It doesn’t look like it from here,” you sighed, 

“Ignore her.” Jisung whispered, “She’s not my girlfriend, so let's stop talking about her and just enjoy being right here, right now. Together.” 

You were a little startled at his words but found yourself relaxing into him. He was still being so gentle and respectful of you. You felt safe around him, even though you haven't known him for long. You were so lost in your own world, you didn’t realise how much time passed. All you focused on was his body against yours, his breath fanning over your shoulder. His hands slowly moved further down your hip, his grip tightening slightly as he guided your hips against his.

“What’s wrong with me?” He hummed into your neck, but before you could answer, and tell him he was just drunk; he was being torn away from you. 

“My turn.” Liza said coldly, as she wrapped Jisung’s hands around her hips and she wrapped herself around his neck, tugging him close to her, smirking at you as she did so.

You looked at her in confusion, what the actual fuck? Before you could interject, Minho had swooped in front of you and grabbed your hands and danced with you. Jisung, despite being drunk, looked incredibly uncomfortable. He didn’t want to dance with Liza, he wished she would just go home. She hadn’t drank at all, she’d sat on the couch all night on her phone; and NOW she wanted to dance once he was finally having some fun? Worst of all, Jisung knew he wouldn’t be able to pull away from her. 

“What are you doing,” he finally asked Liza as she continued to glare in your direction.

“Hm? Oh, I’m just dancing with my Hannie,” Liza whined, giving him a smile

“You couldn’t have waited? Or like, danced with someone else?” Jisung groaned, “You obviously saw I was busy.” 

“I wanted to dance but I don’t know anyone else. Your friend that you left me with was so weird,” she grimaced.

“So why didn’t you ask to dance earlier? You chose to do it now when I was already dancing with someone?” 

“Who cares Hannie, it’s not like you two are anything. She’s just a person helping with Hyunnie’s project. And it’s not like it was gonna go anywhere. She’s not like us. Plus you could do better.”

“Stop.” Jisung said, pulling his arms off her body and harshly pulling her arms out from around his neck.

“I’m just saying Hannie, I’m right here, you don’t need to use the poor girl.” Liza said as she tried to reach up to touch Jisung’s cheek.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Liza.” Jisung sighed, 

“Hannie, don’t act like this” she said as she tried snaking her way into his arms once more; 

“No, Liza. I said stop. I don’t want you to fucking touch me or breath in my direction right now. Just fuck off.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Liza yells out, causing Changbin and Felix to stop their dancing and look in their direction. 

“You’re insulting my friend. You’ve actually been insulting all of my friends all night!”

“Because, they’re not fucking like us what don’t you fucking people understand!” Liza screams out, “Why are you lowering yourselves to their fucking level Jisung?!”

Chan and Kitty had made their way back to the table, but when they heard yelling from Jisung they quickly made their way over.

“LOWERING TO THEIR LEVEL?! DO YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELF?!”

“Oh I get it,” Liza laughed, “OHHH I’m so sorry, I ruined your chance at an easy fuck didn’t I?” Liza smirked at she watched you, 

“Who are you calling an easy fuck?” Kitty ran over, getting in Liza’s face.

“I hope you have a fucking way to back that claim,” Mini said, standing behind Liza. “Don’t start something you can��t fucking finish girly.” Mini smiled, as always when she was pissed she was unusually calm. But all it would take is one off comment from Liza to snap her. 

“Channie, this is what I mean, look at them. Look at how this one acts like a rabid dog getting in my face while the fucking monster behind me tries to corner me in, do you see now that they aren’t like us? Help me!” Liza said in her sickly sweet voice.

“If you wanna see rabid dog, I’d be so fucking happy to show you and put you in your fucking place,” Kitty seethed as she got closer to Liza.

“Please, what are you gonna do about it?” Liza scoffed, “You’re in your last year. You can’t do shit to me unless you don't want to graduate.” 

“The question isn’t what am I going to do about it, it’s what EXACTLY will I do about it because I have MANY fucking options.” Kitty hissed, taking her long pointed nails and running them along Liza’s jaw, causing her to tremble slightly. Quickly Liza lifted her hand giving Kitty a swift smack.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” 

“Baby, let it go,” Chan whispered as he reached for Kitty’s wrist, pulling her back into his arms.

“Are you fucking joking? Baby? Who’s fucking side are you on? Your best friend of YEARS or some fucking whore from your class?”

“Who. The fuck. Are you calling a whore.” Jeongin glared as he made his way over. He had missed the first part, only to see Liza smacking Kitty, excusing himself quietly to the girl he was with before pushing everyone out of his way to get to her. “Touch her again, and I’ll fucking end you.” 

“So you are just as fucking crazy as the rest of them. A rabid kitten whore, a monster, and a feral fox. What a combination.” Liza rolled her eyes at Jeongin, brushing him off.

“Monster?” Jeongin laughed, “You don’t want to see a monster Liza.” Jeongin laughed, “Because you’ll be quite unhappy when you realise you labelled the wrong person the monster.” 

“Binnie, look at them, this is who your friend is friends with?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Your little friend, these are his people. So do something.” 

“He’s not my fucking friend Liza. He’s my boyfriend. For the love of fuck, stop misgendering and mislabelling him!”

“Look at him, not hard to think he’s a she.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill her,” Kitty said from Chans hold.

“Guys, just let it go, she’s not worth it,” you said as you pulled Jeongin back a few steps.

“Yeah see, Y/N is a nice one, Kitty needs to graduate and Jeongin won’t hit a woman, but you see; I have nothing to lose.” Seungmin looked to Mini both confused and slightly amused, as if he’d already known for a while what would happen. “You can insult me, you can say whatever the fuck you want about pretty much any of us. But Y/N and Lix? Off fucking limits.” Seungmin took a preemptive step back, knowing just exactly what would happen. 

“Mini,” you shouted sternly, but it wasn’t enough. You knew how’d she get, and this was no exception.

‘Some people need to be taught a lesson, whether they choose to learn it themselves, or I have to force the lesson into them.’ was something she once said, after a fight with a few seniors who had decided to pick on a freshman earlier in the year.

Liza had moved away from Mini in an attempt to get some distance between them. She tried to escape from their circle and move back to their table, but Minho slid in front of her, blocking the way with his arms crossed and a stone cold look plastered across his face. 

“Sorry, bitch. Not getting out of this one,” he chuckled at the fear on her face.

Liza had turned around and saw Mini standing in the same spot. Mini cracked her knuckles and her neck, obviously trying to scare the shit out of her some more.

“Minho don’t encourage her! Please!” You yelled out, as you moved to try and stop the inevitable, 

“Don’t get in between a fight, love,” Jisung said as he grabbed you, bringing you close to his chest, “What did I tell you huh?” when you didn’t answer he sighed, “You need to take care of yourself, getting in between people during a fight like this will only get you hurt,” 

“She shouldn’t be fighting her anyway, Jisung!” 

“I can’t say it’s not called for, but let Chan and Bin stop them. I don’t want you to get hurt.” he whispered, his arms tightening around you protectively. You didn’t answer him again and simply watched the fight unfold in front of you.

“Last chance to fucking either back what you said or apologize.” Mini had cornered Liza into the corner of your friend group. By now the rest of the club had stopped what they were doing, 

“Bouncers incoming,” Minho whispered, 

“You’re fucking psychotic!” Liza yelled attempting to throw a punch at Mini and missing horribly. She had grabbed a glass from a patron standing beside her and swung it towards Mini’s face. Mini was fast enough to put her hand up to stop the glass from shattering on her face, but when the glass made contact with her hand, it instantly shred the skin on it. She wretched her hand away from her face and hissed as the glass penetrated her skin. Liza smirked up at Mini, but Mini just smiled. Liza's smile fell immediately.

“Yeah… I am.” Mini’s devilish smile grew wider, she pulled at Liza’s hair, tugging it harshly to get her to stand still, she pulled her good hand back and swung, hitting Liza directly in her nose. Liza screamed at the top of her lungs and fell to the floor, clutching her face. She moved her hand from her face and saw blood all over her hands. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Liza cried as she sat on the floor, fumbling her phone as she attempted to call the cops.

“Go ahead call the cops, you threw the first punch moron,” Minho chirped,

“YOU’RE ALL FUCKING INSANE! CHANNIE, HELP ME, PLEASE!”

“Liz. This time, I can’t defend you.” Chan said as he squeezed Kitty tighter in his hold, she was clawing at his arm, itching to get to Liza.

“You’re taking their side? Are you joking? HER? Over me? She’s NOTHING, a NOBODY!” Liza screamed at him, causing Chan’s gaze to darken angrily. Liza had never seen him look at anyone like that, he’d never looked at her like that. Chan had lifted Kitty into his arms bridal-style and walked towards the exit of the club.

“Honestly, Liza.” Hyunjin said as he walked up to her, “I don’t see why I ever cared to be friends with you.” 

“Jinnie..” 

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he scoffed, as he turned to walk out. 

“Binnie?” Changbin looked to her, shaking his head and taking Felix’s hand in his, guiding him out of the club following Hyunjin. Mini walked past Liza, who still sat on the floor. Grabbing for her purse, as Minho helped her with everyone else's things.

“Made me get blood on a perfectly good outfit.” Mini sighed, Seungmin making his way up to Mini to grab her side, pulling her close to him as he examined her hands. 

“Tch,” Seungmin let out, “When we get home we’re gonna have to clean this fist up and wash the blood out.” 

Jeongin walked towards Liza and crouched down to her level, “Don’t fucking talk to my family ever again. Or Mini won’t be the worst of your problems.” He whispered in her ear, quickly standing up and stepping over her to walk to the exit.

“H-hannie…” Liza whispered, tears starting to well in her eyes.

“Was it worth it?” Han sighed, “Was it worth all of this? Was whatever you had going on in your head worth the fight? Worth all of your friends walking out on you? You couldn’t just be fucking happy for Bin? You couldn’t have just acknowledged Felix properly? You couldn’t just stop fucking talking? Or respected Chan, or my wishes? Just fucking ONCE in your fucking life!?” 

You could feel Jisung shaking as he held onto you tightly. You felt something wet drip onto your shoulder, looking towards it, noticing him crying. You wrapped your hand around his to try to calm him down, tilting your head up to try and look at him. He had his head buried in your shoulder, his hair covering his face.

“Jisung, you’re ok. We can leave… if you want,” 

“I got punched, and you’re-” Liza lets out a soft laugh, “And you’re the one having an anxiety attack? You’re a fucking joke, Han Jisung.” She sighed, getting up off the floor; dusting herself off, wiping the excess blood from her face. 

“He’s the joke? I don’t think so. We tried our best to be nice to you, to make you feel welcome. You judged us before you got to know us. No one else is a joke but you.”

“Shut the fuck up, and do what you want; you can have him for all I fucking care, he’s useless to me.” Liza spat, 

“Have him? He’s not a fucking prize to be won Liza! He’s a fucking person, not some possession you put on a shiny pedestal and use when he’s convenient for you.”

“And what's your excuse? Flaunting him like this?” Liza laughed, 

“Flaunting? I’m his friend, this is how friends should protect and respect each other.”

“Setting rabid animals on someone? You couldn’t fight for yourself so instead you let your loyal hounds to handle your problem!” 

“Please stop..”Jisung whimpered, 

“Loyal what?!” 

“Please..” Jisung hiccuped, “Stop please,” 

“CHAN!” Changbin yelled, from the entrance, “SOMEONE GET CHAN!” 

Chan ran in, rushing to Jisung, cupping his cheeks to look at him. Jisungs eyes were full of tears, glazed over, his breathing hitched and rapid. 

“Breathe,” He said, “Breathe, you’re fine, you’re okay.” 

“I can’t-” Jisung struggled to speak, his breathing erratic, heart racing. The fight itself would have been fine, he would have been able to handle that. It was the blood. The cut on Mini’s hand, the blood that came from it. “Is Min-” he hiccuped again, “Is Mini okay? She’s bleeding-”

You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together, squeezing his hand tightly in yours. 

“Ji… we’re all ok. Can you look at me please?” you say softly to him, not wanting to scare him away.

He looks down at your hands, making sure you’re physically okay from the commotion and slowly looks up to you. You can finally see his face and all you wanted to do was wipe his tears away and hold him till he felt better again.

“We’re ok, you’re ok,” you said softly, moving a few pieces of his hair away from his face.

“There’s a car outside. Lix, Bin, Minho, Hyunjin and Jeongin, took one home already, Seungmin, Mini, and Kitty are waiting outside.” Chan sighed, 

“I really am nothing to you all.” Liza said, 

“Just go.” Chan said blankly, 

“Channie, I’m sorry…” 

“Not now Elizabeth, just fucking go. I’ll talk to you when I’m no longer fucking pissed.” She nodded, walking away. 

“Let’s go.” Chan said, as he guided Jisung out of the club, apologising to the managers at the door for the fight. You hopped into the back seats of the car, Jisung beside you as he attempted to calm himself down a bit more. Ultimately, he fell asleep on your shoulder, to the scent of the rain. 

~ ~ ~

“Is he gonna be okay?” You said, after saying your goodbye’s to Jisung, Seungmin had already headed up to your dorm to tend to Mini’s hand.  

“Mm, yeah. He’ll be okay, might take an extra therapy session but nothing too bad.” 

“Is he-”

“Mhm, just a bit of trauma- he’s not good with blood.” Chan sighs, “But he’ll be okay. He just needs a shower, and his computer for now.” 

“Computer?” 

“He thinks his best songs come from his emotions, especially when he’s hurting. It's also just a good distraction for him. Whether it be writing or just listening to music.” 

“What happened-” 

“It’s better for him to explain when he’s ready, anyways Y/N i’m sorry about tonight.” 

“Definitely not how I saw my Tuesday night going.” You smiled lightly at Chan, who was staring off into the car watching Jisung, who sat with his head hung low “Do you guys just want to stay here? I feel like none of us are going to class tomorrow anyways, Plus I’m sure Innie, Mini and Kitty wouldn’t mind. There's a spare bed for Jisung-” 

“Honestly, sure. I don’t want him to be alone tonight, gives me an excuse to have someone in the room with him. Also maybe him seeing Mini’s fine will make him feel a bit better.” you nodded. Chan told Jisung the plan, and he slowly hopped out of the car. 

~ ~ ~ 

“I’m fine, Jisung.” Mini smiled, raising her bandaged hand in the air, “Honestly, I’ve done worse.” 

“Let’s all just get some sleep yeah?” Minho sighed, “I’m sharing with Y/N and Innie tonight,” 

“Felix and Bin are already passed out on the couch so,” Chan sighed, 

“My room.” Kitty smiled weakly, “Thank you, by the way. For holding me back.” she blushed, and turned swiftly to walk to her room, Chan following closely behind her.  "Hyunjin, and Jisung; if you need anything, extra blankets, or just- anything let me know." Mini smiled, as she guided the boys into the spare room. Closing the door behind her when she left.

~ ~ ~

“What’s wrong with me” Jisung sighed as he lay in the guest room, 

“Nothing’s wrong with you Ji,” Hyunjin sighed from beside him, 

“I should have got her to quiet down Hyune.” 

“Nah, there was no stopping her. She has been going off the deep end lately, there really wasn’t anything we could’ve done once she started.”

“Do you know where my phone is?” Jisung sighed, 

“MM, lyrics?” Hyunjin asked, 

“Yeah.” 

“I really like that you write instead of isolating.” Hyunjin smiles, “Makes me feel a bit better.”

“Don’t you isolate?” Jisung tilts his head towards Hyunjin, who hands him his phone from the nightstand beside him. 

“Exactly why it makes me feel better. At least one of us has a healthy coping mechanism.” Hyunjin smiles softly, “I’ll go to sleep first. I hope the lyrics come out how you want them, night Hanji.” 

Jisung opens his phone to his notes, where he had the last lyrics he wrote while sitting in the club.

In the quiet tunnel…

The walls that were colored are all black

They were colored by you

Jisung sat in silence recounting his emotions from the night. Watching you dance with Hyunjin, and the odd jealously that came with that. 

I’m surprised by the feelings felt for the first time

Minho’s acknowledgment that he could very clearly see Jisung’s interest in you. He wanted to be in Hyunjin’s place, he wanted to know you more than Minho did.

Name, age, where do you live

Too many questions, I know I’m being rude

Boldly walking up to you and asking you to dance with him. Wanting to be close to you, not just physically, but emotionally, mentally. He wanted all of you.

I’ll cross the line just a little, as I finally

Avoided this road, I was walking on unsteadily

The two of you entirely in your own world, dancing together, blissfully unaware of the world around you. He remembered the first day you met, how fond he felt watching you standing in the middle of the street, letting the rain cascade down your figure.

I’ll look at you and rest for bit, I know I’m putting you out by doing this when it’s our first meeting

He remembers how inspired he was by your actions and your words that first night. He got so wrapped up in his song idea that you had gently fallen asleep on his shoulder, your features totally relaxed. He thought you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. This song was for you. He was writing it because of you, for you.

I’m rambling noisily, as it’s my first time having these emotions too, so I’m still

He was suddenly pulled from his remembrance as a sports car revved and zoomed down the street, the tires and echo of the exhaust loud enough to penetrate the walls and windows.

“AH!” Jisung yelled, quickly turning, realising Hyunjin was asleep. 

In the quiet tunnel, you with the sports car, the noisy engine blares

“Fuck that tunnel”

TAGS @https-skzology @chanlixiiee @channiesbub @silentcry01 @iadorethemskz @heavensheadbitch @maeleelee ♡ Thank you for letting us tag you

[porlovistoeinmasochist]

I have been having fun all in all with the series, it has given me more of Anakin/Vader which is really all I want of Star Wars. And this episode was amazing in that regard, it gave us more of the fact that Anakin is Vader, Vader is Anakin. How the flashback cuts to Vader, its Vader remembering Anakin waiting for Obi Wan to do a training duel, those are Vaders memories. The guy ruminating about all of Anakins memories, as Vader. I loved that!

Also they are giving us true Eldritch Abomination Anakin, Vader, just bringing down the ship and ripping it apart. Yes! That is the cosmic horror, the nightmare of the galaxy, an actual offspring of the force. I was sooooooo afraid, because before watching I saw some spoilers, and my One (1) fear is a watered down Vader, the fun of this guy is that he is the worst with god like powers, just rampaging and doing evil with forces nobody comprehends, while staying enslaved, to the guy who is evil incarnate, through the power of apathy, guilt and self loathing. So I was cheering him on! Look at my rampaging guy go! Allow him to go batshit crazy!

And the duel, him just playing with his food! No effort on his part, just perfection! But here is where my griping starts: whyyyyyy didn’t he kill Reva?….besides her having now plot armor….just snap her neck, cut off her head, anything, he is normally so efficient in disposing of people. The falshy burning and then letting escape stick is reserved for his special obsession of obi wan. But if this would have been XY employee of him he would have killed her. I know he is trapped inside a mobile torture device and is just apathy in person, full of rage, pain, guilt and self loathing, but if he excels at ONE thing it’s freaking MURDER. So letting her live makes so no sense….

And not only him, but the Grand Inquisitor, who is alive, because why not, will it be explained how he survived a lightsaber through his thorax? He also just taunts….and lets her alive…and its just the absurd trope of ‘evil guys are dumb’ that just….meh.

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[httpdabi]

The perfect neighborhood

Genre: Smut, romance

Summary: Your parents and Todoroki’s never got along and everyone knew that. It was a hate on the first sight. So, what else to expect from their children than to hate on each other too, right ?

Word count: 7.6k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors please back off), unprotected sex, public sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, a little bit of praising, dom!Dabi, multiple orgasms.

Imagine,

Warm summer night with a little bit of a warm wind touching your skin. Dark and almost clear sky, fully painted with starts, millions, billions of it, only few of a bit lighter coloured clouds covering some of them. Glass of a nice and expensive wine in you hand as you are concentrated on the small meteor shower they talked about in the news. You saw already three shootings stars, how many will you see till you go to sleep ? How could you possibly miss that ? It’s quiet, the only thing you can hear are the sounds of field crickets.

Yeah, imagine.

Now, let’s go to back to the reality.

It is summer, yeah, but the night ain’t warm, it’s fucking freezing. The wine in your hand is probably the cheapest one from the store. The meteor shower everyone talked about ain’t shit. You expected to see at least one shooting star, but the only thing you saw was a damn airplane, maybe two.. and lastly, instead of calming crickets, all you could hear was loud music and the bass hitting, coming form no one else than Todoroki’s oldest son.

So much about the night you were looking forward to. Maybe you would enjoy it, at least a little bit, but if you were being honest, the music was way too loud. It’s not like Touya did that often, but when he did, he made it sure that the whole neighbourhood has to share the small experience with him.

What you didn’t understand was, why didn’t Enji ever tell him to lower the volume down a bit ? Didn’t it bother him ? Or Rei? She didn’t look like someone who would enjoy the loud music.

Well, that wasn’t really surprising to you. If you think about it, they aren’t much better than he is. As they say. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

The Todoroki family moved in to the house next to yours, shortly after you and your parents did. You will always remember the day when your mother knocked on their door, giving them the cookies she made as a little welcoming gesture, only for Rei to give them back, saying how her husband doesn’t like sweets. You will always remember the look on your mothers face, not understanding if she’s for real.

Well, you could understand your mom, it wouldn’t hurt her if she just accepted them. If you think about it, you would probably accept it, and later on throw it away or whatever, just not to hurt the person who gave them. After all, she has kids, not like they couldn’t eat them. But yeah, it already happened, and the two families never talked after that.

In fact, if they did end up exchanging few words, it wasn’t anything good.

It wasn’t really all about the cookies tho, that was just the beginning. One time your father accidentally knocked their trashcan down, but it was really just an accident, which of course, didn’t look so to Enji, who was screaming and cursing around. The same day, your mother saw Rei throwing some old food over the small fence that was keeping your houses apart.

With that gesture, they declared a war.

Touya in the other hand wasn’t really like them, he actually did try to start a conversation with you few times at the beginning, but the two of you couldn’t even exchange two words and one of your parents would already peek thru the door and call one of you, putting the both of you in your places.

After few tries, both of you gave up, giving each other a small nod as a greeting and nothing more.

You almost smiled to yourself as you heard one of your favourite songs coming from your neighbours home. Sometimes you wished you could actually meet him and have a nice conversation with him. He didn’t really seem like someone who was starving for a good fight.

,, Sweetie, can you please go buy some chicken breasts ?’’ Your mother asked, as you were trying to ignore her, focused on the television screen, sadly the focus long gone as she was repeating her question until you stood up. That woman really knew how to piss you of.

,, Do this, do that.. I can’t sit down.. This ass, i don’t know why i have it’’ you complained loudly, pitying yourself for a moment, before you made your way out to the nearest shop. Well, you tried to look positively e at it, maybe it’s better if you watch the movie sometime later, since your mother was way too loud as always.

Ever since her friend told her about some weird ass local stereo site, she’s been walking around with her bluetooth speaker, annoying the shit out of you with some terrible folks music. Damn the person who got her the speaker.

The moment you got into the store, you thought how it’s not that bad that you got there, in fact, you needed some snacks for yourself, since your brother never heard of the word ‘’sharing’’, eating all the snacks that exist in your house.

Firstly, you made your way toward the meat section, taking your mother off the list and making sure you wont forget chicken breast, well better said, making sure you won’t end up dead at the end of the night. If you forget what she sent you for, she would most likely end up using you as the main ingredient.

Once you found it, you made your way toward the section with snacks and sweets, carrying yourself with it and putting more and more in your basket. Well truth to be told, buying all those snacks was almost useless, since you knew that Keigo will end up eating more than half of it. The only way to hide those sweets from him was putting them in your pillowcase, even tho that dog would be probably able to sniff his way to them.

Noticing that there was only two packs of Cheetos, you hurried toward them as you noticed that someone made their way to probably grab them. Sadly the moment you were about to grab at least one pack, both of them were gone, making your blood boil and once the person that took them turned around, your blood boiled even more.

Touya fucking Todoroki, that hungry piece of shit.

Nodding his head slowly, as you were about to curse him out, he just moved out of your way, walking to the way where the cashier is.

,, Do you really need both of the packs ?’’ You hissed, loud enough for him to hear you, making him stop his movements and turn around to face you once again.

,, Yes.’’ He simply answered, raising his brow.

,, Well, that’s really greedy of you’’ adding, you tried to keep your voice down and calm as possible. That was your favourite snack, and that hungry piece of shit had to get both of the last packs.

,, Yeah, says the one who bought half of the store’’ He said eying your basket. Well, he’s not wrong, but in your Defense the main reason for buying so much was your always hungry brother.

Instead of continuing the discussion, you simply tried to be the bigger and better person, and ignore him. Passing by him and making sure you are the fist one to get to the cashier.

,, Hey, wait’’ you heard your neighbours voice, as you got outside the shop. Pushing your wallet inside your backpack, you turned around to see what the fuck he wants.

,, Here, you can have one’’ Touya said, giving you one of the package. You were both shocked and confused by his sudden change of behaviour, not sure if you should take the small package or not. What if he’s trying to prank you ? What if he’ll take the pack back the moment you try to reach it and make it awkward for you?

Your overthinking came to an end as he pushed the Cheetos bag into your backpack, totally ignoring the conversation you had with your inner self.

,, Thanks I guess?’’ You mumbled, still pretty unsure of the whole situation.

,, Yeah, i thought, if our parents fight, it doesn’t mean we have to. Especially not because of a bag of chips.’’ He smiled, as both of you walked lazily toward your homes.

,, That’s true. But honestly, i was already thinking about ways to sabotage you on your way home, to get that bag’’ you joked, realising that both of you are walking way too slow.

You took your time to take a better look of him, since you weren’t really sure if that will be the last chance to do it. He always looked handsome to you, and now that you could see all of him up close, you knew instantly that he is someone you would definitely thirst over.

The usually seven minutes long walk turned into twenty minutes long one, and with every step you were getting closer to your home, you wished you could spend some time more to talk to him and get lost in his beautiful blue eyes.

,, You know Tomura, don’t you?’’ He asked, as you two stopped one block away from your homes.

,, Yes, why ?’’ You asked him back confused, not sure why he’s mentioning him all of sudden.

,, Well, he kinda has crush on your friend Nejire. So, tomorrow maybe, you two could grab a lunch with us at the break ?’’ He suggested almost excitedly.

,, Sure, but I am honestly not sure if he’s her cup of tea.’’ You said, playing with your fingers, not wanting for his friend to get his hopes up, only to end up heartbroken at the end. But hey, it was a win win situation, for him and for you. His friend could talk to Nejire, and you could talk with your neighbour.

At the end, you and Touya exchanged your numbers before you walked away from him, as he waited till you get home, trying not to make it obvious that the two of you had a nice conversation just few minutes ago.

,, What took you so long ?’’ Your mother asked, as she heard you opening the door. Trying to hide the happiness on your face to avoid the questioning, you explained how you took your time finding the right snacks for yourself.

At the end of the day, you turned on the tv in your bedroom, and decided that it’s time for you to finish the movie you started before your mother interrupted you. The focus you had before was long gone and all that was on your mind was your neighbour.

The two of you didn’t talk much or enough for your taste, but it was something you really wanted to do for a long time, so you were really on cloud nine. That same night you had trouble falling asleep, as you repeated the small conversation you had with him all over again in your head and the fact that you will spend more time with him the next day was making you even happier.

And the first time in in a while, you found yourself excited for the upcoming day on your boring university.

,, I swear to god, if that bitch looks our direction one more time, imma throw hands’’ Nejire complained, as some girls from the class, were clearly gossiping about the two of you, not making it a secret at all.

,, Ah fuck them, they ain’t worth our attention girl’’ You pointed out, making Nejire gasp surprisingly. Usually you were the one always ready for one good discussion, arguing with everyone who looked at you wrongly. But you couldn’t waste your time thinking about them, all you could think of was Touya and the upcoming break.

,, And why are we suddenly spending our time with Shigaraki and Todoroki ? Also, aren’t you in bad terms with him ?’’ Nejire started questioning you, as you opened the message you got from Touya, which was nothing more than his current location.

,, Well, long story short, we had a small chat, and he simply invited us. Don’t know why’’ you said, not being able to find a good enough reason to tell her.

Once the class was done, the two of you packed your things and made your way toward the location he sent you. It was the small cafe two minutes away from your uni. Usually, you and Nejire would spend your time at the lunch room, or library, but you had one and half hour till the next one, so the cafe wasn’t really a bed idea.

After you introduced yourself to Tormua, you sat beside Touya, making Nejire sit beside his friend.

,, What’s up?’’ Shigaraki asked casually, after the two of you ordered your drinks.

,, I wanna go home, that’s up. Not in the mood for the next class’’ Nejire said rolling her eyes playfully.

At the beginning all of you talked, but after short time as you realised that Nejire and Shigaraki are getting their own topic slowly, you decided that it was the best time to find a topic with Touya too.

,, So, how’s Fuyumi? What is she doing ? ‘’ You asked casually, like you were friends since forever with her. Probably a bit stupid of you, since you never exchanged a single word with her.

,, Ah, she found a job not long time ago, in some bakery’’ He answered, probably playing along not wanting to make things awkward.

,, That’s nice’’ nodding your head, you took a sip of your coffee.

,, Yeah, but she quit the next day, with excuse how too many guys are flirting with her and her boyfriend doesn’t like that’’ he added.

,, Well, I didn’t expect that’’ you said honestly, laughing a bit. She didn’t look like someone who’s not taking working seriously in your opinion, but again, you don’t know that girl at all.

,, Apparently the bread is not the only thing that’s hot, when she’s there’’ he laughed, making fun of his sister. Once you heard him say that you almost choked on your drink, as you started laughing loudly.

If you think about it, for some reason you really wanted to meet Touya better. Maybe it’s because your parents were so against it, or maybe because he was always so mysterious ? Before he approached you in the store, never once did he really try to make a conversation with you. Now that you were face to face with him, it really felt weird, if you could say so.

But still, you were more than grateful that you had a chance like that. You were always attracted to him, and you never tried to lie to yourself that you aren’t. Sure, you didn’t talk about him, maybe complain about loud music to your friend or brother, but there was no need for you to mention how handsome you think he is or anything.

,, Imagine how our parents would react if they saw us here ‘’ Touya said, as he placed a cigarette between his lips, smirking lightly at you.

,, Yeah, i don’t even wanna think about that’’ You smiled, as you played with the spoon that was in your cup. It’s not like your parents could do much about it, both of you are adults, but you were pretty sure that they would pretty much try to manipulate you into hating him. You could honestly already imagine them saying how you’re living under their roof, and how you have to listed to what they say.

One and half hour never passed faster in your entire life. The two of you talked like you knew each other your whole life, and not like there was a barrier between you. You already knew what kind of music he likes, but you found out what his favourite games are, what does he do in his free time. Surprisingly you found out that he doesn’t really have such a good relationship with his parents, which you didn’t expect at all. The Todoroki’s family always looked like those from television.

Also at your surprise, Nejire was really chatty with Shigaraki. Usually she’s pretty quiet when she’s around people she doesn’t know, but the conversation they had was never ending, and at the end they even exchanged their numbers.

Second day, and Touya Todoroki was all you could really think about.

Sitting with your family and watching some Disney movie was something you really loved, but that day all you could think of was the small amount of time you spent with Touya in the cafe.

,, Can you bring me the cheese balls please ?’’ Keigo screamed when he noticed that you are going to kitchen. There it goes, the snacks you bought just yesterday were already half way gone.

,, I think i lost sense of smell ‘’ Keigo added when you gave him the pack. The cheese balls usually had the really strong smell, but either way the ones you bought were a bit weaker or he simply caught a cold.

,,well, we didn’t. We can still smell you and the fact that you didn’t take a shower for ages’’ you joked, as you scrolled thru your instagram, not showing much attention to the movie your mother chose.

,, Shut up, i shower daily’’ Keigo pointed, defending himself.

As usual, your parents were the first one to go sleep, saying how work got them tired and leaving you and Keigo on your own.

,, Hey sis, do you know any cute activity for couple? Or places to go ?’’ Keigo asked, focused more on his phone now that your parents went to sleep. You knew that your brother was seeing some girl, but you could never be sure if he’s serious about it or not.

,, Oh yes, yes of course, go to hell’’ you answered with a big smile on your face. ,, ehh, i don’t know, maybe the botanical garden ?’’ You added once you realised that he’s totally serious.

The next few days you didn’t have much contact with Touya. He did greet you at uni, he even sat with you on small smoking breaks. But that was nothing much, and you were thinking about sending him a message few times, but at the end you didn’t want to force yourself on him. If he wanted to reach out, he could, he has your number, so ..

On Thursday you didn’t have any contact with him, and that day you really thought that you should keep your shit together, and not overreact. If you talked it doesn’t mean that he had to befriend you, after all he told you that it was about his friend and Nejire. But all those thoughts flied away on late Friday night when you got a text from him.

From [Dabi]: ,, You awake ? ‘’

It was such a simple message, yet your heart skipped a beat immediately.

To Dabi: ,,Yes, what’s up?’’

You replied not closing the Chatroom. At your surprise he obviously didn’t close it either since the message you sent immediately had the blue sing telling you that he read it, and not even a second after you sent it, the ‘’typing…’’ sign was under his name.

From [Dabi]: ,, Wanna take a walk ?’’

That night, when you got out of the house to meet the guy your parents always told you to stay away from, you realised how down are you for him. Just one message and you found yourself ready to piss your whole family off, as you went against their wishes.

Since the night was kinda warm, you decided to go out in your pyjamas, wearing only an oversized hoodie in case it’s a bit windy outside. Once you got out, Touya was already waiting for you on the street, looking only a bit better than you when it comes to his outfit. At your surprise he greeted you with a hug, locking you between his arms for few seconds.

That same night the two of you were on sitting in the nearest playground until the sun slowly started showing up, giving you a sign that it’s time to part your ways.

,, Are you planning to move out after uni ?’’ He asked. There was so much space on the wooden bench you were sitting on, yet he was sitting so close to you, not even an inch was between your body’s. Since it was getting later, the weather was getting a bit colder, and the feeling of his body being so close to you was helping you warm up a bit.

,, Probably, I wanted to move out this summer, but honestly, I don’t think I would be able to pay the rent even if i find a mini job. You know how high the prices are these days’’ You said, hugging your legs closer to your body as you tried to warm yourself a bit more. Having him so close to you, you almost found yourself lost in the nice smell of his cologne. It wasn’t so strong like some guys like to wear it, but it was so nice.

,, We should move in together. I think we would get along pretty well’’ Touya said, placing his arm around you casually. You weren’t sure what surprised you more, his statement or the arm around your shoulders.

,, That’s easier said as it’s done’’ you simply said, not taking it too serious in the first place.

,, Why ? We can pay the rent half-half and it would be fun. Imagine all the drama with our parents if they find out’’ he said laughing a bit. His talk and everything was so casual, you weren’t really sure if he is joking around or not.

As the two of you were talking, he was pulling you closer and closer into his embrace, and at the end the two of you were sitting on the bench like a couple. He took the excuse of the cold weather to hug you so close to himself and who were you to refuse him ? After all what could you wish for more ? The two of you looked like a couple in love that jumped out of some teenage movie, and you were sure you would spend the upcoming days thinking about it.

You did think about the fact that he might be playing around with you, but you decided just to enjoy in the moment and worry about it later. But if you only knew how much he actually liked being out with you in the middle of the night, and having you in his arms on a fresh summer night, the suspicious thought would probably go always faster than it got in your head.

What you didn’t know is, that Tomura didn’t really have some huge crush on Nejire. It was only Touya’s made up story to spend some time with you.

When he was younger he wanted to talk to you just to piss of his parents, but after short time, thinking about it, he didn’t want tot cause you any trouble. He understood that your parents were like his, if not even worse. As he was growing up, the urge to talk to you was also getting bigger and bigger. Not only because of his parents, it was more because you were getting more beautiful every day. He was 95% sure that you never noticed him lurking around on the uni. Not that he was stalking you or anything, he could form it in better words, he was admiring you. Yes, he was admiring your beauty.

He would visit your instagram from time to time, just checking up if you’ve posted some new selfies, or stories. There were some time’s when he wanted to send you a message, but he was always thinking about how would you take it?!

Once the two of you made your way home, instead of being sleepy, you were all wide awake, focused of the quiet walk and him. The whole way home, you were walking shoulder by shoulder, as he held your hand, hidden inside the pocket of his hoodie.

You didn’t have much inside of your head when you told him that you’re going inside, but he did. He couldn’t just let you go, he couldn’t let a chance like that slip thru his hands. Before you could move away, he placed both of his palms on your cheeks, as he connected his lips with your own. At that moment, he didn’t give a shit if Enji or your father could walk out and see the two of you kissing. Heck, if they did, he wouldn’t break the kiss even if his life depended on it.

Even tho you fall asleep only in the morning, you’ve never slept better. Falling asleep as you repeated everything that happened, and waking up thinking about the same thing.

,, Someone decided to finally wake up’’ your mother pointed out, once she noticed you getting inside the living room wrapped up with your favourite blanket.

,,Morning’’ you greeted your mother, as you put the water to boil, preparing the cup for your coffee.

,, Well, it’s 12:34 pm, not really morning anymore’’ she laughed. Unusually, your mother seemed to be in a really good mood for some reason. Not sure if she realised, but you were too.

That day you were motivated to do everything she asked you, hoping you’ll get a glance of Touya. You even agreed to water the flowers on the balcony. And good thing you agreed to do it, since you got a message from Touya saying how someone is hard working, and asking if you slept well. At the end of the message was a small red heart, which almost made you melt in the moment you saw it.

You weren’t sure where all of that lead to, you weren’t sure if he saw the night the same way you did or not. You were pretty much unsure about everything, but still, you didn’t want to think about it much, deciding it’s the best thing to simply wait and see what will happen.

And good thing you didn’t worry your little head about it, because before you could even tell Nejire about it, Touya had better plans, greeting you with a kiss in front of everyone in the uni. You wished you could see Nejire’s face at that moment, full of questions and shock, trying to understand what is going on. Trying to remember if you ever mentioned to her that you liked him even a bit.

,, What was that about ?’’ Nejire whispered once Touya was greeting Shiggy.

,, I’ll tell you later’’ you whispered back, trying to hide the smile that was way too visible on your face.

After the night at the playground, you were falling for Touya more and more, and even if you tried, you couldn’t hide that. Your behaviour changed drastically, wich made even your brother realise that something is going on.

Every night the two of you would meet, sometimes spending so much time on the small playground, and sometimes going out just for a bit, to see each other if the both of you had to wake up early in the morning. Even going to uni wasn’t so bad anymore, he would come to you on the breaks, bring you a cup of coffee to go, or wait for you after the uni. He didn’t tell you that, but he wanted to show everyone who you belong to, and he did it slowly yet effectively. But hey, there was no need to tell you that, you aren’t stupid, you could notice that and in fact you liked it, a lot.

One day after you were done buying some groceries, Touya saw you in your garden, spraying you with the water as he was washing his car. The smile that was on your face, got lost immediately as both of you saw your mother getting out of your house.

,, What’s up you waste of oxygen?’’ You said sarcastically, hoping your mother would buy it, deciding to ignore you, Touya just continued to wash the car, as your mother took the paper bags from you, giving him an evil side eye. That moment you understood how hard it will be to keep your relationship with Touya a secret, and what will happen when your parents find out. Not even a minute later, you’ve got a message from Touya, telling you how he got the goosebumps from the look on your mother’s face and instead of talking about it, or try to find a solution for it, the two of you laughed it out and decided at what time you should meet that night.

Around 12AM when you thought everyone in the house is sleeping, before you even got out, you were caught in the act, by no one else than your brother.

,, And where are you going ?’’ Keigo asked, biting the apple he just got from the kitchen.

,, Just on a walk, to clear my thoughts’’ You laughed it out, hoping he won’t question you much more.

,, Oh, a walk with Touya ?’’ Your brother wiggled his brows, as he laughed once he saw the shocked look on your face. ,, Don’t worry, i won’t tell mom or dad’’ Keigo added when he noticed how the shocked expression turned into terrified one.

,, You won’t ?’’ You asked surprised. You didn’t really expect of him to be the mature one, and you were pretty sure he was about to blackmail you, yet there he was, acting all grown up.

,, Nope, but you should really tell them yourself and avoid the drama,you know’’ he said, acting all smart. Little did he know that all you felt in that moment, hearing those words, was pure cringe and you didn’t really try to hide it, making a disgusted face as you walked out of the house, leaving your brother on his own. The fuck he feeling like the main character, giving you some wisdom tips, you thought to yourself as you walked to the playground.

Of course, Touya was already there, welcoming you with a warm hug and a kiss. He didn’t need much time to notice the weird look on your face, immediately questioning you, making sure everything is alright.

Sitting on his lap, you told him about Keigo and what happened, as he wrapped his arms around you, caressing you slowly. At one point, you couldn’t even keep your concentration on the conversation you were having with him, since his warm hands were slowly going under your hoodie.

,, Why are you stuttering ?’’ Touya asked, smirking at you widely. He knew very well why you were getting lost, and why you were repeating the same stuff all over again. He found it so adorable, how just a little touch made you so confused, and he had to tease you a bit about it, moving his hands up and down your waist, as he placed gentle kisses around your neck.

,, Am not.. I’m sure.. I’m pretty sure he’ll blackmail me at some point’’ you mumbled, trying to keep focused on your little speech.

,, Doll, you already said that’’ Touya laughed, nuzzling his nose into your neck. Closing your eyes, you smiled, embarrassed since he knew what effect he has on you. Feeling his hot breath brushing your neck made you feel some weird way.

,,Sorry’’ you apologised awkwardly. Touya threw his head back a bit, laughing lightly at your small apology.

,, Ahh, why you gotta be so cute tonight’’ He asked, connecting his lips with yours, not giving you any chance to answer.

He kept kissing you, and honestly, at that point you didn’t even want to talk anymore, all you wanted to do was feel the softness of his lips on yours. Usually you would be careful, and think about anything that could sell you and Touya out, but that night you couldn’t think about it at all. Even if you tried, you couldn’t force yourself to tell him to be careful, you couldn’t tell him to go easy and make sure there are no hickeys left on your neck. In fact, you didn’t give a single shit about hickeys, it was a problem you’ll think about some other time.

His touch was getting steamier, and if you were being honest, you wanted more than just kissing and few touches. He was turning you on, and there was no need to hide that. Placing your hand on the nape of his neck, and the other one over his clothed dick. You weren’t the one to do anything so directly, but being horny like that, there was no need for some subtle touches.

The groan that escaped his mouth was telling you that he liked it, which encouraged you into doing more of it. You couldn’t help but smirk while kissing him, as you started rubbing his clothed dick, not giving a shit if someone might see you or not.

,, Doll, you don’t wanna do this’’ He said in between the kisses. ,, At least not here’’ Touya added, moan escaping his lips as you rubbed his now fully erected dick.

,, I do’’ You answered. Touya didn’t need to hear more from you, in fact, he was almost praying you would giving him that simple and short answer, because he couldn’t hold himself, at all. He didn’t give a single shit about the possibility that someone might catch you. After all, he was pretty sure that no one was awake in your quiet neighbourhood, at fucking 3AM.

His kiss got more aggressive, as he pulled your shorts and panties to the side. Not wasting any time, he started rubbing your clit in circles slowly, as he sucked on your neck, leaving wet love bites all over it. Touya’s fingers pace with your moans, increasing in speed, as you played with his hard cock.

Your breathing gets heavier once two fingers enter your core, going in and out slowly. You catch Touya licking his lips, his eyes getting a darker shade, as he tried to hold himself together. Looking down at your private parts, Touya couldn’t help but to let a deep growl out, his dick almost twitched at the sight of your irritated clit, and your pussy swallowing his fingers.

You nuzzled your head into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you released a throaty moan when he started moving his fingers faster, hitting your spot just perfectly. Touya’s blood was boiling as he felt your tight and wet walls squeezing his fingers. He didn’t care that you stopped rubbing his dick, all he wanted was to make you cum all over his fingers. Touya curled his fingers, pumping them into you, as you planted, moaning louder and louder.

He was supposed to tell you to keep quiet, but how could he ? Your moans were like melody to his ears, and at that point he wouldn’t stop even if the whole neighbourhood got out to see what’s happening. He couldn’t help but to thrust his fingers even harder, stretching and preparing you for his dick. You bit his neck as you tried to keep your moans low, orgasm hitting you harder than ever. It felt so good, more amazing than any pleasure you bought yourself. It felt like he knew your body his whole life, like he knew how to move his fingers, and where to touch and kiss you.

A blush was spreading over your cheeks when he moved his fingers that were just a second ago to his mouth, giving them one short lick just to taste you, before he placed his left hand over your jaw, giving you a sign to open your mouth. When you did exactly what he wanted, he placed those two fingers into your mouth.

,, Suck’’ he said, moving his other hand down to your throat once you did what he demanded. He wished he could take a picture of you in that moment, eyes closed with his fingers in your mouth. If he did, he would definitely put it for his wallpaper.

Once he was satisfied, he placed his hands on your ass, giving you a sign to move yourself up a bit, just enough to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.

,, I’ll be gentle’’ he said, positioning his dick right under your core, before he started lowering you down. Touya wanted to simply rip into you so bad, but he gave his best to fight the beast that was trying to take control over him. After all, he knew that there is enough of time for that.

Nodding your head, you hid your face into his neck. A burning sensation took over your cunt, causing the faintest amount of pain. Every inch you took, was getting thicker and thicker, and once the pain was getting bigger you felt like he won’t be able to fit in. Was he so big ? Or was it just because of the pain that you were going thru ? It must have been both.

Looking down, you realised that he’s not even halfway in. He didn’t want to hurt you, pausing every other second letting you adjust to his size .

,, You’re doing so good’’ Touya prised you, placing soft kisses along your jaw. You wanted to get over it, and that’s exactly what you told him, nodding your head when he asked you if you are sure.

You weren’t really mentally prepared for the pain you felt in the moment he pulled you down his length with one move. Kissing you immediately, as he tried to calm you down.

After a minute, when the pain was almost gone, you gave him a nod, giving him a sign to move. Holding you up, Touya started sliding in and out of you. Enjoying the feeling of your walls hugging his dick. He almost closed his eyes, as pleasure took over him, but he forced himself to not do so, finding it more pleasurable to watch your face as you were turning into a moaning mess.

His dick was getting deeper and deeper with every thrust he made. The way he moved made you feel his dick fully inside you, the shape, the veins, the tip, everything, rubbing your walls slowly and hitting your g spot your fingers were never able to reach.

It wasn’t your first time, but the sex you had before was never this intense. It was slow, yet so good, and the fact that someone could catch you was making it even better. You didn’t understand how did he manage it hold your ass up the whole time, moving you exactly how you want.

Placing both of your hands on his shoulders, you started moving on your own, deciding to go a bit faster and he gladly accepted that. Placing his hands on your ass, and meeting your hips with his own, hitting you just perfectly with every move. Closing your eyes shut, you moaned loudly when he started moving his hips much faster than before. You couldn’t really manage to say that you were about to cum, but he felt that. Your walls were getting tighter and tighter, and with just few moves you were left breathless, as orgasm hit you harder than ever before.

Touya gave you a minute to calm down and catch your breath, telling you what a good girl you are and how you did so well for him, but he was not done with you. Not yet. Flipping you over, he made sure you were comfortable enough on the old bench before he entered you again.

,,Tell me if you want me to stop’’ Touya said, placing soft kisses all over your face. Usually if you had sex, you would simply have one round and that’s all, and in that round it was rarely about you, it was all about the guy pleasuring himself, cuming and leaving you without orgasm, or you faking one for his sake.

You weren’t sure if you could take it, but you wanted Touya to cum. So, you gave him a small nod, before he started to roam into you, the slow pace long forgotten as he moved his hips like in one animalistic pace. Pulling his hoodie up, you placed your hands on his back, digging your nails just a little bit with every move he made.

And with every move he made, you felt your body moving a bit. Touya loved the feeling of your walls hugging his dick so nicely, and now that you had your orgasm, they were even wetter than before, letting him slide in and out of you much easier.

Touya’s strong hands kept you steady, as his fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips. He knew that he was rough, but he also knew that you would tell him if it’s too much. He was thrusting into you deep and hard, hammering your cervix with every thrust, hitting your g spot all over again.

,, You are so tight’’ Touya groaned, as you whined, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. The feeling you felt at the moment was telling you that you were so close again, and you couldn’t really bear it. Digging your nails into his back so deep that you almost felt blood beads around the tips of your fingers. But maybe you just imagined it from all the pleasure, you’ll find out later.

,, Don’t close your eyes’’ Touya commands, gripping your jaw hardly as he fucked you harder. You tried to keep your eyes opened, you really did, and every time you would close them, his grip around your jaw would only get stronger. Your view got blurry and your moans got louder as you felt your second orgasm approaching you. Touya also feels it coming, and in that moment all he wants to do is to dump his load deep inside of you, wanting to claim you as his own.

The moment you wrapped your legs around him and moaned his name loudly was when he lost it, fucking you harder if it was even possible. ,, Fuck.. Fuck, you’re mine’’ Touya growled between his teeth, lots in the feeling of your walls getting tighter around his dick once again. After few hard and intense thrusts, he spilled his seed inside of you.

Your whole body started shaking from the orgasm that just hit you, and from the feeling of his seed that was painting your walls white. If it was someone else, you would probably tell them to cum anywhere else, but for some reason, you wanted him to cum inside you. You wanted to feel all of him.

The both of you were panting so hard, trying to catch your breath as he fucked his seed deeper into you. He hoped it won’t leek out of you, since the view might turn him on again, and he was pretty much sure that you weren’t ready for a third round.

,, You ok?’’ He asked you, still buried deep inside you. Nodding your head, you kissed him, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the last moments of the passionate sex the two of you just had. In public, where anyone could see you.

The two of you spend the rest of the night on the old bench, cuddling, talking and laughing about small things. Instead of being embarrassed that you even did it in such a place, all you felt in that moment was the warmth of his hug, and happiness, no regret or shame at all. That night you decided that it would be the best if you somehow tell your parents that the two of you are in relationship. Not sure how to do it, but both of you agreed it was for the best.

,, Anyway, i want to say something’’ You said, as you placed the knife and fork on your plate, done with the food. You could almost feel the cold sweat as the moment was getting closer and closer.

,, Ohhh, don’t wanna miss this’’ Keigo laughed, sitting back when he realised what’s about to happen.

Your parents gave you one confused look, still eating. Your father nodded his head, giving you a sign to continue as he placed the food in his mouth.

,, I have a boyfirend’’ You said, playing with your fingers nervously.

,, Oh sweetie, we know. We noticed’’ your mother said, giving you one sweet smile.

,, Yeah, it’s Touya’’ You said fast, and the smile she had, was replaced with confused look written all over her face.

,, Which Touya exactly ? ‘’ Your dad asked, forgetting to chew the food in his mouth. Before you could even give them a proper answer, a loud knock on the door took all the attention.

Your mother jumped fast, like she was expecting someone, ready to kill anyone on that damn door at the moment. Keigo couldn’t hide the excitement on his face, and you were giving him a begging look, hoping he’ll stand up for you.

,, Hey, just wanted to bring some cupcakes to our ‘’in laws’’ you heard Rei’s voice. Both you and Keigo jumped once you heard your mother screaming ,, YOU WITCH’’. The moment you saw confused Touya, standing between his and your mother, trying to calm the situation, both of you and Keigo laughed loudly.

Laughing long gone once the two women’s started pulling each other’s hair. Holding your mother back, both you and Touya realised that it will be one crazy and fun ride with your parents accepting your relationship.

But you knew very well that none of them could ruin it.

The moment Rei grabbed your mothers hair a bit too hard, pulling the fake extension you spent so much time putting on her head, Keigo started laughing hysterically.

,, Wig, snatched’’ Keigo laughed loudly, holding his stomach instead of his mother.

,, KEIGO’’ both you and Touya screamed, trying to hold your laugh, as your mothers continued to fight like two preteen girlies.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xiii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 635

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello friends!!! here is the next update :D i hope you enjoy the read! it's been a v long week for me so it's nice to just unwind hehe. thank you for the support & love you all!!!!

“Are you going to just … stare at me?” Jungkook clears his throat as his eyes dart anywhere but forward. It was less uncomfortable that way.

The two people in front of him don’t flatter him with an immediate response, instead; they stare him down harder until Jungkook can quite literally feel the stare of their eyes burning a hole into his forehead. He nearly shrinks into his seat, but he manages to pull a somewhat neutral expression even if he was on the verge of a meltdown.

“Maybe.” Jimin retorts snappishly.

Jungkook knew Jimin would be the pettier one between the two, but again; it’s not unwarranted. So he sucks it up like a big boy and nods his head slowly in understanding.

However, Taehyung was a different situation. His blank face was already intimidating as it is and Jungkook’s known him ever since the two of them were in middle school. More often than not people mistook him for cold and disinterested, whereas he usually just got lost in his thoughts.

But it’s obvious when Taehyung doesn’t like someone. He doesn’t put up a front to pretend that things are dandy and that he vibes with you. No, Taehyung’s blank face returns and it’s tenfold. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t just that, that resulted in the permanent vacant expression etched onto his expression—it’s paired with the fact that Jungkook’s an idiot and this is his punishment.

Jungkook knows better that Taehyung isn’t the type to take things head-on (like Jimin), but rather allow people to ruminate in their thoughts as he stares you down with a gaze so intense that it feels like he’s unpacking every single stray thought that passes by your mind. Jungkook is aware, but he’s never had to be on the receiving end of it.

“Are we going to, uh, order?” Jungkook asks, hands gripping the menu tightly.

Taehyung still stares, and Jimin narrows his eyes at the younger boy.

“You know ____ hasn’t arrived yet, right?” His tone is accusatory and Jungkook feels himself pale.

“I didn’t mean—okay,” He sighs in defeat, “We’ll wait.”

Jimin eyes him carefully before opting to skim through the menu. Jungkook knows it’s a front to not have to engage with him since they’ve frequented the same diner more than enough times for the waiters and waitresses to know their orders by heart. It’s been a while since they came here, and Jungkook knows that he’s partly to blame.

It sucks, sitting here in silence when he remembers that the three of them, you aside—used to engage in stupid banter and talked about the most random things like college boys do. They were his best friends, Jungkook grew up with them and he distinctly remembers always getting into trouble with the two boys until their parents only sighed every time they saw them returning home with guilty expressions ridden on their faces.

Now the banter is replaced with tense silence, but it doesn’t feel like it’s over. Jungkook hopes, at least.

Before Jungkook can say something else, he feels someone slip into the empty seat next to him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Your voice is sweet and cheerful, and it’s nice to hear you like this again.

Jungkook looks up and sees you smiling at everyone, oblivious to the strained mood of the table before you came.

“Don’t apologise,” Taehyung says for the first time, offering you a small smile, “We were waiting for you, weren’t we?”

Jungkook stiffens, fully aware that it was directed to him. He wanted to lamely interject and say that it wasn’t what he meant, but he knew that Jimi would give him more shit for that anyway.

“You didn’t have to!” You exclaim.

Jungkook feels somewhat satisfied at the scowl that plagues Jimin’s expression, but it’s quickly covered with a beaming smile in your direction as he calls over a waiter.

“We know our orders, right?” Jimin asks.

You nod, smiling brightly; clearly excited to be here again.

And Jungkook feels nice, too. It’s nice being here, with the three of you—even if Jimin and Taehyung were still giving him the cold shoulder it was much better than pretending like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

“It’s nice to be back,” You smile to yourself after the four of you order, and Jungkook can only agree.

.

Maybe it wasn’t so nice, after all.

Because the entire time, Jimin and Taehyung were dead-set on making Jungkook feel the guilt of his actions tenfold when they pick apart at every word he offers into the conversation.

“Have we not been here for that long? Even the interiors changed a little.”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. Who’s fault is that?” Jimin says off-handedly, unbothered to even cast him a glance.

“Wait, really? There’s a forum coming up?”

“Didn’t we all know? _____ is the one who organised it.” Surprisingly, this came from Taehyung.

“I’m stuffed.”

“With bullshit—?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Your voice is loud enough to silence the entire table and even causes a few other patrons to turn their heads in the direction of your table.

Jimin is blinking at you with wide eyes, as Taehyung only gapes at the decibel of your voice that he’s never heard from you before. Jungkook only presses himself against his seat, and subtly inches away from you.

But you turn your head towards him and shoot him a glare so venomous that he stiffens in position.

“Don’t you dare shift away from me, Jeon.” You warn threateningly.

Jungkook swallows, too stunned to move.

Then, you turn to face the two unblinking men.

“And you two,” You narrow your eyes at them menacingly, “I told you that I’d deal with this on my own so why are you the ones holding grudges?”

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, but Taehyung is nudging him with his elbows to shut up.

“I expected better from you!” You cry, “What are you guys, five? Or is that how many brain cells you have combined?” You scowl. They’re still blinking at you when you continue to fume. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s less than that because at the rate you’re acting I’m beginning to think that this fork better conversational skills than the three of you.” You hold up your utensil for good measure and the boys can only blink at you.

The last part is directed to everyone, and Jungkook can only listen to you rant as he presses himself against his seat.

“I just wanted to hang out like usual.” You flutter your eyes shut in annoyance, “I asked for one day—one day!” You exclaim, “Just to be with you guys because we haven’t done that in forever. And you couldn’t push aside whatever hostility you have towards Jungkook for this?”

You sound so disappointed, and your voice subdues out into a whisper when you glance at the table. Jimin and Taehyung had the decency to look guilty and apologetic when they realise that you were actually serious about it. Because rarely have you ever blown up, if not—ever.

“_____, we’re sorry—” Jimin begins.

“Are you?” You snap irritatedly, “I told you that I didn’t want to make things complicated and here you guys are—doing exactly that. I resolved whatever I had to with Jungkook, and let’s not pretend like he was the only one at fault here. The two of you are opening a closed book and it’s unnecessary. I just wanted to hang out with you guys and laugh about our balding lecturers, is that so much to ask for?”

“I think—” Jungkook begins, feeling slightly more confident to speak up after you’ve somewhat defended him, but the way you snap your head to him to send him a blazing look shut him up immediately.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook either,” You seethe, “Jimin and Taehyung have every right to be mad but they don’t have the right to ruin the atmosphere of our hangout right now. That doesn’t change the fact that you messed up.”

Your words are sharp, and his eyes widen when you scold him. It oddly feels like the three men were being lectured by a parent, and it’s not far off because you’ve always been the level headed one amongst the four of you anyway.

“I’m sorry, ____.” Jimin offers apologetically, but your ears are flushed for obvious reasons before you mutter an excuse to head to the bathroom.

When you storm off, the three men stare at each other unblinking for a few seconds before Taehyung breaks the silence.

“Listen,” He sighs, “Clearly, Jimin and I are pissed.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches, that’s an understatement.

“But, we have a right to be—like she said,” Taehyung continues. Jungkook doesn’t argue there, “But we care about her as much as you do, and we don’t want her to feel any more disappointed than what she had to feel for the past month. So we’ll drop it.”

“Why are you speaking on behalf of the both of you because I’m pretty sure hyung is staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, off-put by Jimin’s unwavering glare.

“He’s not far off.” Jimin retorts, then he sighs, relaxing his features ever so slightly to look at Jungkook with an expression much softer than what he’s received so far. “I’m disappointed in you, and I probably will be for a very long time. But … you’re still my best friend, and even if I feel like knocking you into every available surface I’m willing to push that desire aside if it means we can make ____ happy.”

Jungkook blinks.

“I …” He croaks, “I’m sorry, to the both of you. I messed up and … I really regret it.”

Taehyung offers a small smile, “You don’t have to apologise to us. It’s ___—”

“Yeah, I know.” He clears his throat. “But the two of you are my friends too and you’ve done nothing but guide me even if I acted like it annoyed me most of the times; I really appreciated the things you told me, even if I blatantly went against it.”

Jimin purses his lips, staring hard at the boy.

“I want us to be okay too, as much as I patched things up with her; you guys are my best friends as well,” Jungkook says softly.

“If ____ forgives you then …” Jimin mutters, though Jungkook can tell it comes from a good place. “I guess I can work with that.”

It’s something, Jungkook thinks.

But then you’re still not back and the three men look at each other in worry.

“I’ll go get her,” Jungkook declares, but before he can push himself up—Taehyung is stopping him with a hand and a cock of his head.

“I’ll do it.”

And when he leaves to get you, Jungkook and Jimin are left in a mini stare off, the awkward atmosphere still tense enough. Not until Jimin gestures to his face.

“Your cheek …”

Jungkook sighs.

“You know there are people who need to pee too, right?” Taehyung hums outside the cubicle. He’s sure you’re in there because he spots your sneakers through the slit, and he’s lucky enough he can because he wasn’t sure how else he’d explain him leaning outside a stall while he talks to it.

You stay silent, dabbing at your eyes with the tissue you brought in. You feel a little stupid for crying about it but you hated the atmosphere out there. It was weird and awkward and the four of you never had moments like that. You always had things to talk about or even just to laugh at each other. The silence and glares were suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all your fault.

“I’m going to piss on the floor if you don’t open the door.” Taehyung threatens in a bored tone.

You sniff, loud enough for him to hear as you roll your eyes at his ultimatum.

“Don’t think I won’t do it, _____.” He warns, and you hear fabric rustling that has your eyes widening.

“Don’t pee on the damn floor!” You hiss.

“Then open the door.” Taehyung retorts smartly.

You scowl, glancing into the mirror one last time to ensure that your eyes weren’t as red as you hoped they to be. It comes to no avail because your eyes are puffy enough to tell him that you’ve been crying, and you knew that you couldn’t lie your way through it.

“I’m giving you five more seconds,” He calls, “Five … four … three … two—I’m about to piss—!”

You unlock the door and pull it open, and greet Taehyung with a vehement glare of your own as he smiles down at you, but only for a bit until he notices the puffiness of your eyes and the pout of your lips.

“You know it’s kind of depressing if you lock yourself up in the cubicle of a diner to cry.” He says softly, arms reaching out to bring you into an embrace.

You don’t fight him, even if you don’t make an effort to hug him back. You were sulking.

“Well that’s what happens when your best friends are acting like assholes.” You snap back in a sniffle.

He sighs, patting your head gently as he forces your arm around his waist; shooting you a stern glare that you roll your eyes at.

“You know we’re looking out for you.” He chides gently, and you feel very much like a petulant child when you huff at his response.

“I just wanted to hang out with you guys without things being weird.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know.” He hums.

“But you had to make it weird.” You complain. “What are you? A social justice warrior? I told you I could deal with it on my own.”

Taehyung chuckles, squeezing you a little tighter as you scowl into his shirt. You knew you were being a little dramatic but you didn’t want the dynamics of the group to shift just because of the situation you got yourself in with Jungkook. Even if you were in love with him and he was … in love with you. Your friendship with the three of them meant the absolute world to you.

“I’m sorry,” He apologises, pulling away slightly to look at you with sincere eyes.

You look away and sulk.

He sighs, knowing that it would be much harder to get you to feel better than just an apology.

“Look, I’ll lay it off and I’ll make sure Jimin doesn’t overstep either. Promise.” He offers with a smile.

You look at him with tentative eyes as you raise a brow at him.

“Isn’t Jimin with Kook right now?”

Taehyung opens his mouths, then closes, before he wraps an arm around your shoulder to tug you closer into his grasp.

“After this. I make no promises that Jimin hasn’t caused bodily harm on Jungkook in the meantime.” He says.

You snort, picturing Jungkook cowering or at least avoiding Jimin’s eyes now that they were alone. You knew that the bruise on Jungkook’s cheek was Jimin’s doing, and while you already talked his ear off for that, you appreciated the gesture. Even if it did look like it hurt like a bitch.

“I just want things to go back to normal.” You mumble, fiddling with your thumbs.

Taehyung nods his head and sighs.

“It will. We’re okay. You’re okay. We’ll be okay.” He comforts you with a soothing tone.

You nibble on your lips, “I guess …”

Taehyung stops in his tracks as he was about to bring you back out when you mumble those words so softly he nearly misses them.

“You guess …? Is there something—?”

“I just,” You sigh, “Jungkook and I spoke and we … cleared things up. But it’s still … it still sucks.” You finish lamely.

Taehyung gives you a sad smile before turning you around so that he can grab onto your shoulders.

“What he said doesn’t define you. And I know for a fact that he’s beating himself up over it. It sucks because he’s your best friend and he was the one that said those things to you. But none of that is true because you’re the most interesting, smart and best girl I know.” He smiles at you, even when you flush and look away.

“Stop …” You whine, avoiding his gaze and you hear him chuckle.

“Jungkook’s dumb. He’s our friend, but he’s dumb.” Taehyung snickers.

You roll your eyes but a smile teases the corner of your lips.

“It’s not just that …” You mumble softly, pink dusting your cheeks. “I told him that I was in love with him.”

At this, Taehyung quite literally chokes on his breath.

“You—what?!”

You scowl, “God, you don’t have to be so loud.” You thwack his chest and even as he winces he still has a stupefied expression on his face.

“You … love … what?” He blinks, “What the hell did I miss? Does anyone else know? When did this happen?”

You huff, “Look, that isn’t … important. Not now, at least. I told him that I needed time to sort things out myself and … yeah.” You murmur softly.

You know Taehyung wants to press further, but he doesn’t do that because your demeanour says to drop it. He sighs, pulling you into his embrace once more before he gives you an easy smile.

“Take all the time you need, okay?” He reassures you softly, and somehow it does feel a little better.

“Were the extra ten laps really necessary?” Jungkook pants, hands falling onto his knees just as he completes the last God forsaken round.

“I don’t know. Were they?” Namjoon hums, opting to skim over Jungkook’s hunched figure with a shrug.

“You’re holding a grudge on me,” Jungkook says in a tone of disbelief.

Namjoon shoots the younger boy an unimpressed look.

“Am I?” He returns, and Jungkook already feels the incoming headache approaching.

“Look, I get Jimin and Tae because the two would literally die for her … but you?” Jungkook exasperates.

Namjoon sighs, clicking the pen in his grasp before shoving it into his back pockets. By no means was Namjoon unnecessarily intimidating, because besides the fact that he towered over most people and frequented the gym as his second home; he was a decent guy and great company.

That, and he never imposed his authority as the captain of the football team onto any of the footballers, or his peers, which made him all the more approachable and likeable. Jungkook had nothing against him, but after finding out that he too had feelings for you; he’s bound to view the older boy differently.

“Jungkook, I already told you—you’re my friend and I like you.” He deadpans, “But you’re also an idiot so you’ll pay for being one. It’s really that simple.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “And this has nothing to do with your feelings for her?”

Namjoon snorts, waving him off as the rest of the footballers come pooling out of the changing rooms.

“I think you’re projecting a little,” He snickers and ignores the look of disbelief that covers Jungkook’s face when the footballers start gathering around the two.

“He made you run an extra lap?” Jimin snickers.

Namjoon hears this and smiles, “Ten.” He corrects.

Taehyung lets out a low whistle before patting his sullen-looking younger friend on the back while he scowls. Jungkook couldn’t say anything because he’s aware enough to know that his mouth was the one thing that got him into most of the trouble he’s ever got himself into. So he swallows his pride and wipes his sweat, even pretends to smile tightly at Jeonghan when he asks why.

The practice is brutal, well; for Jungkook at least.

Jungkook knew that Namjoon was a strict but reasonable person by nature; and to a certain extent, petty. The only reason he knew was because of his feelings for you and that irked him. But he didn’t know how far Namjoon was willing to go just to prove a point, to you or to Jungkook; he wasn’t quite sure.

But Jungkook’s pride gets the better of him when he waves off concerned stares from the rest of his members. Even Jimin looked mildly worried when Jungkook was required to do an extra circuit or two just because his form looked ‘off’.

Jungkook’s form hadn’t looked off since high school.

And that’s how you find him, splayed out on the ground as he pants for air and stares up at the sky as if he was waiting for God to pick him up.

“Why are you on the ground?” He hears you before he sees you.

And when he opens his eyes, it’s like he’s seeing an angel. He’s half-convinced that he’s died and gone to heaven because your confused face is peering down at him from above.

“I think I’m dead.” He wheezes.

You roll your eyes, immediately squatting next to him before you shuffle through your bag to take something out.

Jungkook can’t even be bothered to ask what it was, but only when you press the object against his forehead and he feels the cool touch of a cold bottle; he ironically melts into the feeling.

“Here.” You thrust the bottle to him.

“God I lo—” Jungkook’s out of it, but not that out of it to let it slip.

You seem to notice, and your ears flush at the near slip-up. Jungkook clears his throat before attempting to sit up, head spinning at the suddenness of his actions.

“Thank you,” He rectifies his mistake immediately, offering you a meek smile.

The sheepish smile you return him with is enough. And he misses you even if you’re right in front of him; because things had been off for so long and having you back … even if you weren’t his, felt better than ever.

But Jungkook’s never pined for anyone else besides you, and it’s tiring. Yet, when you smile at him it feels like it’s worth it.

“Are you checking up on the corpse?” A voice interrupts Jungkook’s dazed expression when he stares at you for a second too long.

He turns his head and sees the cause of the numbness in his legs.

Namjoon is all smiles when he jogs over, Jimin and Taehyung following closely behind as they snicker at the interaction.

“You didn’t have to be so mean.” You pout up at the taller man, standing up as you only reach the height of his shoulders. It would’ve been cute to Jungkook if Namjoon didn’t look so taken with you.

“Someone’s gotta take care of things for you,” He jokes, ruffling your hair.

Things have been going better enough for people to poke fun at Jungkook, and even if he flushes at any mention of what happened—he knows that he’s got to deal with the consequences.

He didn’t know that the extra touchiness from Namjoon’s end was one of them.

“Never thought I’d see the day the great Jeon fall.” Jimin snorts.

You raise an eyebrow.

“What?” He shrugs, “He’s always telling us hyungs that he could one-up all of us with his eyes closed.”

Taehyung nods while Namjoon only chuckles at the statement.

“Not saying that you deserve it but you deserve it, man.” Taehyung laments.

Jungkook scowls from where he sits on the grass, but you’re nice as always when you reach a hand out for him to grab.

He stares at it, struck again by your kindness. And when he looks up the evening sunset flares behind you and you looked like a painting in a museum.

“Wow.” Jungkook blurts.

He didn’t mean to, and everyone caught on his stupefied expression.

“All right,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, tugging Jungkook up himself as the younger boy scowls at the moment being ruined. “Up, loverboy.”

You huff, turning on your heels to hide the way your cheeks had turned red when you noticed Jungkook’s gaze lingering longer than it should.

Taehyung and Jimin shoot each other a look, one that goes missing from you and the two other men. In fact, Jungkook shoots Namjoon a glare that he blissfully ignores in spite of trailing behind you, taking advantage of the fact that Jungkook’s legs are too wobbly to catch up.

“What the—?”

“Hurry up, Jeon. Yena’s waiting and you know how she gets when people are late!” Namjoon calls over his shoulder, before offering you a dimpled grin and grabbing your bag to alleviate the strain on your shoulder.

Jungkook knows that things are better and he’s damn grateful he’s able to be around you without watching over his words anymore. But the childish and immature side of him turns green when he sees the shy smile you return Namjoon.

He knows, that you feel the same way. But somehow his mind overthinks it and asks: what if?

“You look constipated,” Taehyung mumbles off-handedly, clasping a hand to his back when Jungkook stays rooted in position.

“Deserved,” Jimin says.

Jungkook scowls, dejectedly following close by as the five of you walk out of the field.

“That was absolutely uncomfortable.” Yena declares the moment she steps foot into your apartment.

You scowl.

“It wasn’t that bad …” You mumble.

Yena flops herself onto your couch and raises an eyebrow as if to say really.

“Listen I know you and Jeon exchanged vows and a dowry the other day but Namjoon is definitely a close contender. I swear I saw him whipping out a pen mid-meal to write you a love poem.”

You groan, flopping face forward as you stuff your scream into your cushion.

“Why me?” You cry.

You can feel Yena rolling her eyes behind you.

“Oh boo-hoo, your life is so hard. Two hot beefy men are in love with you, wow—things must be so difficult. Would you like a free pass in a therapy session?” She mocks pouts at you when you lift your head to glare up at her.

“They are not …” You remember what Jungkook said and you clear your throat, “… Namjoon isn’t …”

Yena scoffs.

“Well he’s definitely breaking ten different traffic laws to get there.” She retorts.

You slump back into your couch as you stare up at the ceiling.

“I thought things would get better.”

Yena shuffles until she’s settled comfortably next to you, “Are things … not?” She asks carefully.

You sigh, fiddling with the edge of your cushion.

“They are, don’t get me wrong.” You say softly, “It’s just that … I know Joon has feelings for me, and I know … I mean Jungkook is Jungkook,” You explain lamely and Yena awaits your continuation patiently. “I’m not stupid. I’m pretty sure they’re both aware of their feelings, and Jimin and Taehyung are just the bystanders witnessing shit hit the fan. And I’m … well, I’m there.”

“You mean you’re the main character.” She interjects.

You scowl, chucking the cushion at her as she dodges with a cackle.

“Things are better but they’re still weird.” You mumble.

Yena sighs, nodding understandingly as she pats your head softly.

“But you said you needed time, right? To figure things out on your own?” She asks.

You nod your head.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “I do. I mean, I know what I feel and I’ve felt this way for a long time. The only person I’ve ever … loved … is Jungkook. But I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of proximity and familiarity or because he was the only person that I’ve ever … you know.” You gesture your hands ambiguously but Yena gets the point.

“I understand.” She nods, “But things won’t be easy, not at first at least. It’s weird, I know. Going from your best friend to a potential lover, a stranger to a man who’s willing to put his star quarterback on the line and two best friends who are well—they’ve always been overbearing but they’re there.” She ends with a roll of her eyes.

Your face crumbles, “Why are things so complicated?” You cry, leaning onto her shoulder as she sighs and rubs a finger over your shoulder.

“You’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t owe anyone anything, remember that okay?” She hums softly.

“Just because you stare at them long enough doesn’t mean you suddenly get telepathic abilities.” Jimin snorts.

It’s been fifteen minutes since Jungkook’s stepped into the library, courtesy of Jimin who wanted to study for an upcoming test with him. It’s a step towards mending their friendship, and Jungkook is immensely grateful; so he didn’t think twice before responding to Jimin that he’d be their stat.

But he remembers that Jimin is cunning, not maliciously, but very impertinently. He was smart and sly all at once, and while he didn’t explicitly state anything—the timing seemed all too perfect for it to be purely a coincidence.

“Not staring,” Jungkook mutters.

Yet, his eyes remain trained on your figure.

Jungkook’s always had issues with envy, ever since he was younger. If someone made the cut before he did, he’d internally curse them out in his head and work ten times as hard out of spite. It’s somewhat toxic, but it allowed him to outdo himself every single time he felt that familiar green eyes emotion. He’s also no stranger to jealousy, and he’s remembered feeling the very same feeling he’s feeling now multiple times throughout his life, all for similar reasons.

You.

It wasn’t just because you were great at everything you did, excelling in your academics and extra-curricular, making students and superiors around you impressed with your work ethic. You were never ordinary; in fact, all you did in your life was outdo yourself in every single aspect and Jungkook always admired and envied that. It always made him feel like you were in two different worlds, where Jungkook had to work twice as hard compared to anyone else to achieve peak efficiency while you seemed to breeze by the things that you did.

Even when the two of you were in high school, he’d always fantasise what it would be like to be with you, to kiss you and to hold your hand or call you his. But he’s never thought you’d ever see him that way because all you’ve ever alluded to was him being nothing but a friend, a younger boy who had the stars in his eyes. If only you knew that it was a reflection of your face.

And the feeling is all too familiar, even when he first came to college and remembered seeing you interact with different guys that all seemed like they were taken with you. How could they not be? You were soft, sweet, kind and understanding—never the type to impose yourself or make others feel uncomfortable. You were a perfect combination of soft and relentless, the mixture of your best qualities and it seemed like Jungkook wasn’t the only person who saw that.

And he knew, he knew that you’d never lie to him, explicitly at least, or about things that mattered. So he doesn’t count your feelings, but it’s frustrating to have you right there but not at all. Especially when he recognises the look on Namjoon’s face intimately when he looks at you, bodies pressed adjacently in a booth in the library.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Jungkook scowls.

Jimin blinks innocently at his friend before a cheeky smile appears on his face, his hands pausing in between the sheets of his textbook.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigns innocence.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, further slumping in his chair before he forces himself to tear his wandering eyes away from you.

“What a way to rekindle a friendship …” He mutters dryly.

Jimin stares at Jungkook pointedly, “Hey, the library is open to all students. Don’t go pointing fingers at me.”

“Jimin, I literally suggested we head to an overnight cafe and you said if I wanted to fix us then I had to listen to you,” Jungkook says dryly, “And I quote—or else.”

“Okay, maybe I may have been projecting a little—”

“Jimin …” He groans.

“But look, it’s not the end of the world so don’t go ahead and get your panties in a twist, all right?” Jimin snorts, “Just 'cause she’s over there with Mr Beefy doesn’t mean you’re out of the race. Let’s just say you’re sporting a broken foot.”

Jungkook only responds with a bland look.

“That doesn’t—”

“—and a dislocated knee. Maybe a torn hamstring?” Jimin ponders like the details actually mattered. “Yeah, a pulled hamstring. A torn ACL too for a kick. And you know who’s fault all of that was?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yes, Jimin, I know. It’s me—”

“No. It’s me. Because I’m planning on dragging this out as far as I can even if you and she made amends. You fucked with someone I cared about and this is how I hold you accountable. I’m going to draw out every lone interaction she shares with Joon and make you watch it like the porn you consume in an unhealthy amount. I’ll make it so that all you’ll see when you close your eyes is the way hyung looks at her and how you can’t do anything but watch.”

Jimin says all of that in one go and with an unblinking stare. If Jimin was looking for a reaction, he definitely got one because Jungkook is gawking at him with a disturbed expression at how utterly menacing he looks.

“You’re fucking terrifying,” He exhales.

“And you’re a little shit,” Jimin returns with a huff. His eyes dart behind Jungkook for a second before his smile is expression is replaced with an evil grin, “Oh, look at that. He’s brushing her hair back—how cute.” He coos.

Jungkook groans, sinking into his chair when Jimin snickers.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Jealous

Pairing | Eric Northman x reader

Summary | bringing your partner to the bar seemed like a good idea in order to have a nice and relaxing night. However, he appears to become jealous as you speak to the owner of Merlottes.

Warnings | smut, jealousy, swearing, exhibition kink, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), squirting, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

A hunger derived in the vampire’s chest, a blossoming swarm of contained rage that made the sheriff clench his fangs and watch with piercing eyes. The laughter that resonated from your chest made him scowl, all because he was the one that was not causing it.

Instead, it was the dog that ran around this human grill, the shifter that more often than not, tried to distance himself from trouble. He was the owner of Merlottes. Sam Merlotte was his name, he had a head full of ashy brown hair, that had ropes of grey pleated through it. He was a nice man, warm and welcoming, the complete opposite of Eric in some sense.

The Viking vampire was known, and to your knowledge to be notorious. He never allowed anything to stand in his way, and if it dared to, he would literally, rip its head off if it had one. And despite that deadly feature that he exhibited, you still claimed to have loved him. The two of you were great together, you seemingly brought out the best in him, apart from right now.

Eric grunted to no one directly as he watched you swish your head side to side, shaking it as you laughed at something the bartender said. All that you were supposed to be doing were ordering drinks, not flirting with another one of the men that had previously been head over heels for Sookie.

With one last glance at the shifter, you turned back, sitting on the opposite side of the booth that Eric had been holding. You brushed your hair over your shoulder, it was obvious that you were relaxed in this environment. It was filled with your friends and neighbours, acquaintances and strangers. But it still, despite the limitless customers, induced you with serenity.

“The drinks will be here in a couple.” Despite informing him, it appeared that he could care less about the time until the order reached the surface of the table.

“Will that animal be serving them?” In reply, you laughed, dismissing the seriousness within his tone. That was, until you maintained eye contact with the tall blonde, noticing the feral presence decreasing the size of his pupil.

“Are you speaking about Sam?” You asked uncertainty, the owner having been the only one that you had conversed with in the bar, excluding Eric, so far. “Oh my god, you are.” Your speculation had been correct, and you couldn’t help but feel a pulse of annoyance within you.

If Eric actually ever listened to you, then he would know that your friends meant the world and more to you, and that included the shapeshifter. “I don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He put it simply, and you could only scoff at his defence. It was hardly a reason for him to appear and treat you so uptight and rudely.

“What, with care? Because news flash, maybe you haven’t noticed everything that I have done for you Eric, but many times my actions have proven that you are it for me. And if you can’t see that, you may as well be human!” To support your active words, you stood, the palms of your hands planted upon the surface of the booth.

Sookie quirked a brow as her head filled with your thoughts, however she had no time to adjust to them or check how you were doing, as you stormed out of the grill, leaving Eric with a frown and a sombre glaze in his untameable eyes.

But she couldn’t help herself from taking your place looking down at the table, judgementally prying Eric with a disgruntled frown. “Did you seriously question y/n’s love with you?!” Her accent came out strong, digging into the tense atmosphere that you had strongly abandoned.

Eric rolled his eyes at her intrusion, finding it to be a familiar, yet frustrating feeling of her always bursting his bubble. “It has nothing to do with you, why don’t you talk some sense into your vampiric boyfriend instead?” He jutted back at her, standing, and brushing off any possible lint from his blazer jacket.

Reaching into his inside pocket, he grabbed a small amount of cash, placing it upon the table, and walking past the half faerie, brushing against her as he went towards the door, leaving. Eric had no worries, he could sense that even whilst he was inside, that you were there, leant up against the wall, awaiting for him to follow after you. It was inevitable that he evens would.

Your arms were crossed, and you were facing the parking lot rather than the entrance. The stature that you upheld made it rather clear that you were angry with his behaviour; and not to mention that it was also in public.

The vampire knew that you loved him, despite Sookie’s feeble accusations. Fighting was not something that the pair of you were estranged to, however it made you furious to know that he would accuse you of being interested in somebody else.

It was certain that if Pam was here she would scold her maker for his uptight, and jealous outburst. But it wasn’t as though she would have been able to prevent it anyways, considering that she was all the way across town in Fangtasia attending to the business ongoing there.

“I do know that you love me.” His voice rang out in the cold of the night, frolicking to your ears and biting your lobes as you still refused to face the tall and unfavourable vampire.

“Right now, that is debatable.” Was your retort, feeling the cold air brush against your face as you felt it pinch your nose. “To not only insult my friend, but embarrass me in front of a bar full of people, that was not how tonight was supposed to go at all!”

Your body jolted as you suddenly felt his body press against the back of your own, his large and explorative hand dragging up the skin of your exposed thigh, that was free of coverage in the casual black dress that you had opted to wear for the occasion.

“I am sorry my lovely dear, you know how I tend to be, especially when I hear other men make you evoke that wonderful and all consuming laugh that gets my dead heart to beat every time.” A hitch of a sigh caught in your throat as you tried to remain unaffected by Eric’s flattery, but it was rather impossible, more so as his hands brushed against the lace of your panties.

On reflex, you snapped his hands away from that part of you, you were in the middle of the parking lot for Christ sakes! Though that did not, nor did it ever seem to phase him, if you were to guess, you had noticed some hints leading to him having an exhibition kink. And it was not as though you had never called him out on it, though, most of the time, you happened to give into his public desires.

It was often portrayed within the context and realm of his workplace; Fangtasia. Within the club, there was a frequent case of rendezvous that the club permitted to take place inside its various walls that were filled with vampires and their lustful humans. The exchanges that took place were anything but loving, they were filled by hunger, and the curiosity that simple people, that thought themselves to be edgy and desirable to the immortal eye, all making the rooms reek of pretentious assholes taking advantage of one another.

“We are not doing that here Eric.” You scolded his efforts, despite your craving for them to take place, and ravish you no matter the surrounding that were into the background anyways. With great resilience, you swatted his north travelling hands away, making them stoic from the adequate dismissal.But Eric Northman was never one to admit defeat, he had a plaguing tendency to get what he wanted, and he was always had a route of persuasion to get it.

“Aren’t we?” He asked wispily unto your drifting head, as though he were corrupting the stubbornness that was attempting to remain untainted in the rafters that floated so correspondingly through your weightless veins. “Then why are we sneaking to the back of the grill?” His words had a frown fired upon your face as you tried to register the truth behind his words, but in time before you could ask the mysterious vampire what he had meant by his words, he had sped you away to the said part that was already close by.

“Mature move.” You muttered, and the consequences of your off handed comment had earned you the vulnerable position of being pressed right up and against the back door, that was only usable to the staff. If you tilted your head just right, you could hear the clattering of plates being stacked, and the distant voices o Arlene and Terry as they partook in a private discussion that was supposed to be inaudible to anyone else’s ears.

Beaing that close to people that you knew, and in such a compromising situation where they could easily catch you, had you clenching your thighs together, clearly frustrated by the scenario of your predicament. Clearly. And with Eric standing smugly inside of you, once trailing his fingers on the high top of your thigh, his skin tasting your flesh that was beneath the dress, did not help the matters of your hormonal state.

“I said I was sorry.” Eric reminded you, stroking your thighs with his age old touch, and at the notion, your legs quivered, responding affective to his seducing touch. “Perhaps I have to prove it, would you like that y/n?” An audible whimper fell from your stiff mouth, evicting an amused and gloating smirk out of your boyfriend. He knew what he had done, he had moulded you into a desperate mess.

“I’d rather you apologise to Sam, and whoever else you happened to insult in your time in there.” Was your response, though he tutted at it, seeing through its mask, understanding what you wanted was for him to do more than just caress your thighs, and nothing more. “Eric.” A moan slipped from your mouth, as he fondled your breasts through the bleak fabric.

At first, you thought that he was going to pull the material down to expose your womanly globes, but instead, he tore straight down the middle of the dress, leaving it hanging from you by nothing more than a thread. His action enraged you only slightly, but before you could open your mouth to tell him off for destroying your clothing, he snapped the elastic of your underwear, leaving the personal garment to drop in a discarded manner at your heeled feet.

“You are indeed a sight for sore eyes. Do you know how jealous I would be if one of those fools came out here, and saw you so exposed? There’d be no words to describe how much I would want to compel them to forget, and you thought I was angry inside. That would be nothing more than an understatement my dear.” His hands cast themselves down to grope at your ass cheeks, pulling a surprised squeal out of your mouth.

This time, you did not try and stop his feeling of your body, instead, you rather encouraged it. Wrapping your hand in his smooth blonde locks, you began to push down, which was difficult considering how high his head was, leaving your arms half up in the air as you tried to make him descend. “Do something Eric, or I will.”

“Here?” He asked with a prominent smirk, feeling your hostile glare and intoxicating pout bore harshly into him. Rolling his eyes, he sighed, giving up on his verbal teasing as he sank to his knees, looking up at you from beside your legs. He pressed a sweet kiss against your navel, trailing down, until he was nipping at the curve of your mound, his hands resting on the back of your thighs, to pull you closer as he ran his tongue along the hood of your clit, making you bang your head back against the door.

The sound made you eyes go wide, as you worried that someone on the inside must have heard, though the thought quickly subsided as Eric began to eat you alive, stuffing his tongue in your entrance, leaving you to be nothing more than a mewling victim that was in distress from the pleasure that he gave you. His nose rubbed against your clit, as he hummed delightedly against you, the vibrations causing your body to quiver.

“Stop.” You panted, though he continued, staring up at you with those light eyes, that held much darkness of his past. “Need you inside of my Ric. Please, need you to fuck me good and hard, just fuck me.” There were tears frustratedly slipping from the corners of your eyes, as you were upheld of relief as Eric moved away, undoing his bottoms, and taking his long cock out, sweeping it against your slit.

“I’ll fuck you darling; let everyone know that your mine.” His free hand held the corner of your chin, plummeting his tongue into your mouth, to have one moment of calm, before he penetrated you, leaving you in a mess that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and deliriously spinning from the euphoria that you felt. Eric performed at a fast and unrelentingly pace, slamming you hard enough into the door for everyone to hear.

It was certain that people within Merlottes could hear the sounds that were ravaged from your lips, though you were too absorbed in your own pleasure to care at all. Eric fucked into you hard, and you appeared unfazed as someone tried to open the door from the other side, the wood splintering against your back as your boyfriend‘s strength kept it shut, pushing your floundering body back against it.

And then you felt it, the absentminded swirl in your stomach, coaxing you closer and closer to release. Eric filled you first, and then he reached down, rubbing your clit, causing a clear stream to spray out from around his cock, leaving you utterly exhausted. You were half asleep now, and so, Eric picked you up, and sped away, leaving your torn clothes upon the floor, so that anyone that found them would know that it was the pair of you that had been using the outside wall as a mattress for your engagements.

[i-am-distressed]

The one that (almost) got away

Character: Noritoshi Kamo x reader

Warnings: MILDLY SUGGESTIVE THEMES, not really cause I don’t write NSFW, but I did put a lil spice for tension and plot reasons, it’s really more just mentions of making out, fighting/sparring, mentions of injuries, exes to enemies to lovers, both parties being mean, Exchange Event Arc spoilers!!, I wrote this on a whim and very early in the morning, LONG

“Hey, L/n, you’re participating this year too? I thought the 3rd years were suspended?” You sighed as Maki’s face held her questioning gaze. “Well, since they did whatever it is that got them suspended while I was elsewhere on a mission, I got left out of the punishment. I’m here for the exchange event if you’ll have me.” The second years nodded, Maki and Panda giving you high fives while Inumaki gave you a thumbs up and a ‘salmon!’ Fushiguro giving you a little bow that you returned.

You, Y/n L/n, are a 3rd year student at Tokyo Jujutsu High, you’re also a semi-first grade sorcerer. You yourself didn’t come from an impressive lineage, but your cursed technique was nothing short of useful, and you had become a master at using it.

You briefed Fushiguro on your technique and you all decided which group you would be fighting in (it was decided you’d join Fushiguro and Maki) while you waited for the other school to show up. Not long after you came, Nobara arrived, and as she had her scuffle with Panda, Mai’s voice cut through the air. “You guys actually came to greet us? How lame.” You turned to see the rest of the Kyoto Jujutsu High second and third years walked up the stone staircase, naturally filing into a sort of line that stood parallel to your own group, you finding yourself towards the back.

“Hello, Y/n. It’s been awhile.” You felt your face heat up at his voice, you sucking in a quick breath before plastering a fake smile on your face, “Hello, Noritoshi.” Maki’s eyebrow raised as she looked between you and the Kyoto 3rd year, and it didn’t take a genius to see that there was an obvious tension between the two of you, she just had no clue what. “Do you two know each other?” Your gaze never left Noritoshi’s, his dark gray gaze never leaving yours as you found yourselves in the middle of an intense stare down. “We’re acquainted.” You watched as Noritoshi huffed, to most it would’ve been a trivial gesture, a simple sign of irritation. But you knew much better than that, you knew him much better than that. “Quite well, isn’t that right, Y/n?” You narrowed your eyes at the tone he used, he was testing you, you knew that, and you knew exactly what he was referring to.

Before you could respond, Gojo came barreling in, with a...box? He stopped between the two groups of students. Seeing as how you were ignoring the young clan head and he kept stealing glances at you, Gojo knew you two had interacted, and by the puzzled look he saw on Maki’s face, he figured it had gone poorly. ‘Poor kids...these stupid higher ups just don’t know when to quit..c’mon guys, I know you’re both smarter than this..’ Frowning for a moment Gojo shook it off, as a teacher and a passionate one at that, seeing his student (and someone he’s known for a fair amount of years) obviously suffering really rubbed him the wrong way but...there was nothing he could do. They’d have to fix it themselves.

After the...surprise of Yuji Itadori A.K.A Sukuna’s Vessel being alive was revealed, Y/n took a glance over to Noritoshi, seeing the obvious surprise on his face, she knew he was with the higher ups on this one, that Itadori shouldn’t be alive, that he shouldn’t count as a real person. It stung how much he had changed in a short period of time, and it stung even more knowing he was far too stubborn to listen to anything you had to say. Which, now that you think of it, isn’t all that different from you declining his calls..

You groaned as you splashed the cold water on your face. Shortly after the reveal of Itadori, the two schools had a good 3 hours of free time before the event, some students used it to train, others to socialize. You had already determined your role with the others, so while they sorted things out with Itadori you took your leave to the bathrooms to have some peace and quiet, and to try and snap yourself out of the headspace seeing Noritoshi had put you in. Getting a bunch of paper towels you thoroughly dried your face off, taking a deep breath before walking out of the bathroom and into the hall, but the minute you exited the bathroom you were met with none other than the man of the hour himself, Noritoshi Kamo.

You attempted to walk past him, go back to the room where your classmates were and avoid a confrontation all together. But before you could get far, Noritoshi had grasped hold of your forearm, forcing you to turn to face him before he (albeit reluctantly) let your arm go as his own returned to his side. “We should talk, we haven’t spoken since the fight and it’s clearly not doing either of us any good.” You crossed your arms over your chest, more out of unease rather than out of sassiness. “Is there anything to talk about? I thought we made it clear how we both felt the last time we talked.” Noritoshi frowned, leaning against the opposite wall as his arms mirrored yours as they crossed over his chest.

It was silent between you two, neither one knowing exactly what to say, it was funny really. You both have spent the last 3 months wanting nothing more than to talk things through, but now that the opportunity is here neither one of you have the courage to say the thoughts that have been plaguing both of your minds. “I just- I don’t know what you want me to say...you know how I feel about..everything..you know why I feel that way. And there’s nothing we can do about it anyways.” Noritoshi wanted to correct you, tell you that you were wrong, that there was something you both could do to get around the pressure of the higher ups, but there really wasn’t.

Well, there was, but that was out of the question. He couldn’t just up and tell his family they were wrong and he disagreed with them, not now anyway. 3 months ago, Y/n and Noritoshi’s relationship was very different. At the beginning of their second years, they had both been placed for promotion to semi-first grade, and to solidify their ranks they would be ‘interning’ with a grade 1. Usually they would do their ‘internships’ separately, since they were a fair amount of distance apart, but when the summer came both of them were sent to a sort of summer training camp to train together under the same roof.

Despite being different in personality and different in background, the two got along really well, and somewhere between exorcising curses through the day and training together at night, the two found themselves growing feelings for the other. And after a specific practice when one of them let a confession slip from their lips, the two found themselves becoming the Romeo and Juliet of the Jujutsu world. They started dating, dating in secret because neither of their families would be thrilled about it. Even after summer ended and the two returned to their respective schools, they kept their relationship intact.

They’d make trips to meet half way between Kyoto and Tokyo, one would drop in on the other if their mission was nearby, and they kept in constant contact. And they had managed to keep it a secret, neither one telling anyone about it and keeping their affections private and out of the watching eyes of the higher ups and other sorcerers. All was going well, until a certain first year student by the name of ‘Yuji Itadori’ became Sukuna’s vessel, and you and Noritoshi found yourselves on very different sides of the argument.

“I just don’t see why you can’t understand this Y/n, he’s dangerous. Sukuna’s vessel needs to be taken care of, how can you not agree with this?!” Your hands came up to rub at your eyes, you sighing with frustration before returning your hands to your hips. You and your boyfriend, Noritoshi, had been arguing for almost half an hour. You had been in a meeting with your teachers, Gojo and Utahime, when Gojo brought up his new student Itadori, and the power and potential Itadori held. You, after hearing he could control Sukuna, was all for Itadori joining Jujutsu High. I mean, Gojo would be watching over him, and his situation really wasn’t all that different from Yuta’s. But Noritoshi didn’t agree, he saw it as the higher ups saw it, he saw it as his family wanted him to see it. That’s what started the argument.

“What is there to understand about wanting him dead! He’s 15!” You two stood across from each other, both of you were breathing heavily, and your emotions were running wild. You didn’t want to fight, you didn’t want to damage your relationship, but with how sure both of you were in your decisions on where you stood, it was clear you weren’t reaching a compromise, not this time. He was frustrated because you weren’t looking at it objectively, you were upset because he was acting like the higher ups. And neither of you was willing to back down from your convictions, both of you being just a little too stubborn to put this disagreement to rest and move on.

“Then what does that mean for us? It’s clear we’re not reaching any sort of agreement, why can’t you just accept this when you clearly don’t know what’s best.” You shook your head in disbelief, a bitter chuckle cutting through as a few tears had begun to fall. “Good question Noritoshi, Are you going to ask your family what to decide on this one too?” Too far, you knew you had crossed a line, you knew his family was a touchy subject, but rationality had been thrown out awhile ago. His lips pursed in a straight line, his steel eyes narrowed and his gaze became cold, “I don’t have to confide in them, I think we both know what’s best for both of us.” It went silent, you were crying and he was seething, there was no rational thinking, you both were acting out of emotion and quite frankly not like yourselves. You shakily sighed, wiping the tears that had fallen while you shook your head, “...fine...goodbye Noritoshi..we should’ve known it wouldn’t work.” With that, you turned around and left, both of you wishing you had stayed and fixed it.

In the end, a petty argument was what ultimately drove the two of you apart. A stupid argument neither one of you were personally involved in, but the politics and ideals behind it were what drove you both to your wits end. You weren’t even mad at Noritoshi, you were more upset that you both let some stupid conflict be the reason you two broke up! I mean, words were said on both sides, but you were both rational people, you knew neither one of you meant it. And you both really just missed each other on top of all of that.

But like I said, it was a messy situation, and in order to make any progress, you’d both have to let go of your pride first and foremost. And as of right now, neither one of you really wanted to do that. Your stare down was interrupted by the sounds of Miwa and Mechamaru walking down the hallway, you both looking away from each other when the two second years rounded the corner. “Oh, L/n, Kamo! I was looking for you both, but if we’re interrupting, we can always come back later…” As they spoke, you both watched as a few more of the first and second years rounded the corner. “It’s fine,” Noritoshi briefly looked at you as he spoke, a silent ‘we’ll finish this later’ to which you covertly rolled your eyes before turning to your underclassmen with a smile. “We were finished talking anyways, what do you need?”

Miwa looked to you both, “Me and a few others wanted to get stronger with weapons we don’t usually use, me and Kugisaki wanted to try a bo staff so we asked Mai’s older sister but she said to ask you two, since you trained a lot together using them.” Your eyes widened as you stole a brief glance at Noritoshi before returning your gaze to the younger students. “So, if you don’t mind, could we observe a sparring session? Maybe get some pointers on how we can improve?”

“I don’t see why not, that is unless Kamo has a problem with it?” His eyebrow twitched at how you said his name, becoming that more irritated since he knew you knew it ticked him off. Nonetheless, he never was one to turn down a challenge, and especially not when you were the one really putting it up to him. “Don’t complain too much when you lose, L/n.”

And that’s how you found yourself in a man made ring in one of the training rooms, most of the underclassmen sitting on the sidelines as the two of you got into your stances, both of you trying not to acknowledge just how nice and nostalgic it felt to be in that position again. Panda acted as ref, reminding you and Noritoshi of the ‘rules’ before stepping back and yelling ‘start!’ Noritoshi attacked first, you blocking him and ducking to move to the side. You charged him next, him barely getting out of the way in time before spinning around and hitting you right on your backside, smirking when he saw how your jaw dropped before you spun around and caught him in his side.

“That’s pretty unbefitting behavior for the future Kamo Clan head, don’t you think?” He scoffed, and at this point the tension between you two had gotten so obvious even the most clueless were starting to get an inkling as to how exactly you two had known each other beforehand, and why you weren’t friendly to each other. “Ghosting me and blocking my number wasn’t exactly proper either.” You jumped just in time to avoid him sweeping your legs out from under you, but you weren’t expecting him to then use his staff to knock yours out of your hands. Not one to give up, you kept sparring without the staff, both of you slowly becoming oblivious to the watching eyes that were still very much engaged watching this all go down.

You narrowed your eyes at his last comment, and you used your legs to first kick his staff out of the way, and second to sweep his legs out from under him and straddle his middle. You both sat there, breathing heavily as you looked at each other intensely. In a low voice, not quite a whisper, but not too loud either, Noritoshi spoke. “Well this is new, I recall the last time we were in this position, our roles were reversed. Can’t say i’m complaining.” You felt your eyes widen as your cheeks heated, leaving you vulnerable to him flipping you over and aiming the staff at your neck.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “I specifically remember you telling me off for using underhanded tactics, a little hypocritical don’t you think?” Noritoshi feined a look of innocence, setting the staff to the side as he stood, “I don’t know what you could be referring to, I was talking about our sparring sessions, don’t tell me you were thinking of something else?” You hated how fast your heart started beating, you trying to hide how flustered you were by standing up only to freeze when you remembered why you two were sparring in the first place..and that your underclassmen had just saw and heard that all happen.

“Okay~ well as much as I love a good old enemies to lovers, we’ve got about 30 minutes until the event so both schools need to split up and talk tactics!” You and Noritoshi both tensed up at the voice of Gojo standing in the doorway, Panda and Mai both respectfully snickering at the two of you as you both went your separate ways.

It was time for the event, both sides had taken the time to strategize and figure out how they would work together to win. You would be going with Maki and Megumi when the group split, which was fine with you. You may have been a semi-first grade, but you weren’t keen on fighting Todo one-on-one. After Gojo had embarrassed poor Utahime, the buzzer sounded, signaling the start of the event.

When the group was interrupted by the arrival of Todo, you ran off with Maki and Megumi as planned. You jumped backwards when Miwa took on Maki, eyes widening when you saw Megumi get stopped by Noritoshi. “I’ll be fine, you go help Megumi.” You nodded as you ran ahead, only to be stopped by a grade 2 cursed spirit. It wasn’t super powerful, but it most certainly wasn’t weak either. You took a glance ahead of you to see Megumi and Noritoshi fighting, you grimaced, knowing his intentions behind going after Megumi were no doubt clan-influenced. Shaking your head free of distractions, you focused your efforts on taking down this pesky cursed spirit.

Unsurprisingly, your weapon of choice was a bo staff, you had found yourself falling in love with it (amongst other things) during the summer you and Noritoshi had spent together. Using a mix of strength and cursed energy you knocked the cursed spirit a fair amount of distance away from you, using the time the spirit took to charge you to cover your staff in cursed energy. And with one final swing you had successfully exorcised the curse. Unfortunately, the four that were fighting had all gone off to fight other places. Bringing your staff to your shoulder you continued to walk through the woods, searching for cursed spirits as well as your fellow classmates. You hadn’t gotten too far when you noticed the sky had started to get darker, your eyes narrowed as you looked up, watching as what you guessed was a veil slowly started to cover the sky. You continued walking, feeling a sick feeling in your stomach start to form which was only amplified by the yellow hue that coated your surroundings.

You continued walking along what seemed to be a path when ‘isn’t that Miwa…?’ you picked up your pace, and after finding out that, she’s just sleeping, you picked her up and carried her on your back, keeping on your so called path while you continued your search for others. Not long after that you ran into Mai and Nobara, who were unfortunately as clueless as you were. Continuing on you all managed to stumble upon Utahime, who was about to face off with some...guy? Thankfully the veil dropped, and the 5 of you were able to get back with the others.

You were now walking down to the infirmary with a still unconscious Miwa sleeping while you piggybacked her to Shoko. “Hey, have room for one more? We’re pretty sure she’s just sleeping but, Utahime wanted to be sure.” Shoko sighed as she nodded, leading you to the room where the medical beds were. “You can set her down on one of these.” You nodded and carefully setting her down and getting her situated. After Shoko did a quick check and yes, she was just sleeping, you walked back out to the main part. “Uhm, who else got hurt?” Shoko looked to you, “Well, Fushiguro got hit with some kind of bud but I was able to remove it, Maki got impaled in her shoulder but it didn’t do any lasting damage, Inumaki went over his limit, and Kamo hit his head really hard, there was some minor fracturing but he should be okay.” You already felt nauseous hearing about your classmates and friends, but hearing about the man you were still very much in love with included in that group made it all so much worse.

You gulped, hands shaking as you took in a shaky breath. “Is- is he- are they okay?” She gave you a sad smile, nodding as she picked up her clip board. “They’ll be okay, he’ll be okay. If you want I can tell you when he wakes up?” You nodded, showing your nervousness with how quickly you responded. “Y-yes please.”

And that’s how you found yourself sitting in one of the chairs waiting outside the room Noritoshi had been put in after his surgery, heart racing as your mind went through the ‘what ifs’ and ‘why didn’t you’s’. Dread consumed you as you thought of the worst case scenarios. Realistically you knew he wasn’t going to die, he had a minor concussion and a few broken bones, but he was going to make a full recovery. But it was the unrealistic part of you that was in control right now. The part of you who was berating yourself for never picking up his calls, the part of you who was yelling at yourself for ever walking away from him, the part of yourself that hated how things ended between you and Noritoshi. The part of yourself that knew just how in love with him you still were.

“Y/n? He’s awake. You can go in now.” You sniffed, wiping the tears that had fallen before standing up, thanking Shoko as you entered the dimly lit room. You crossed your arms over your chest as your heart raced and you felt your breathing get labored. You had spent the past 4 hours wanting nothing more than to see him, but now that you were walking towards him, your legs itched to turn around and run back to your room. But thankfully for both of you, that unrealistic part of you was still very much in control. You walked further into the room when you saw Noritoshi, sitting up in his bed, with bandages wrapped almost all of the way around his head, one of his eyes completely covered while his own remained closed. You sucked in a quick breath, but continued to walk closer to him.

“How are you feeling?” Noritoshi looked towards you, a tired smile appearing on his face as he watched you come beside his bed and sit down in one of the chairs. “All things considered, not too bad. Apparently my injuries were minor compared to Fushiguro and Maki.” You hummed, “I don’t see any of their heads wrapped in bandages Noritoshi. You always have to be an overachiever, huh?” He chuckled at that, shaking his head as you smiled, desperately trying to blink away tears before they could fall. “...” it was quiet, for maybe only 30 seconds but it felt like eternity.

You took a look at him, and even though he was here, he was fine, he was okay, the only thoughts that were getting through were ‘if you had lost him, what would you have done?’. Noritoshi’s eyes widened as he watched the tears fall down your face, your body fighting sobs as your elbows rested on your knees and your hands clutched at your eyes, water flowing down your cheeks and arms. “Y/n? Y/n it’s alright, i’m oka-” “It’s not! This- this isn’t about that it’s just- I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had...you had- I can’t lose you Noritoshi!” He shut his mouth as you continued to cry, his stomach churning at the sight of your tear soaked face as you tried to stop them from coming.

You sat up, looking up to the ceiling as you tried to regain your composure. “I just- there’s still so much I need to say to you- a-and too much...too much I have to fix,” “Y/n,” “A-and what if you were gone? A-and I couldn’t say goodbye?I ignored you for months, I can never forgive m-myself for tha-at,” “Y/n,” “I would’ve hated myself, cause I never got to tell you I still love you and I don’t hate you and-” “Y/n” You looked down to see Noritoshi leaning to the side of his bed, watching as his hands guided your face towards his, you still very much delirious as he gave you a half-smile, thumbs wiping the tears from your face as your sobs died down.

“Y-yes?” You choked out, he leaned in, thumb brushing your bottom lip as he whispered, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning your lips, “Stop talking.” You nodded, taking a deep breath as your hands came up to hold his, his forehead now resting against yours as your cries effectively died down. “I was never going to leave you, and certainly not without making sure you didn’t believe any of that. We both made mistakes and did things we regret. We let a silly argument get between us, and I didn’t let myself see it from your perspective. I’m sorry.” You shook your head, “I should be the one who’s sorry, I walked away and avoided you because I was too scared to fix things...i’m sorry Noritoshi.”

He smiled, “We’re both sorry, but I think it’s time we fix this too...I’ve hated not having you with me these past few months.” You laughed as you nodded, “Yeah, me too...but you’re going to have to put your number in my phone, I deleted your contact…” He pulled away, eyebrows furrowed, “You deleted my contact?! I can accept you blocking me but deleting my number?!” You laughed, “I wasn’t thinking straight! I was mad and I didn’t handle it well...but don’t act like you’re innocent after humiliating me this afternoon...all those inappropriate things and in front of our underclassmen...you should be ashamed.”

He smirked as he shook his head, “Absolutely not, I was simply telling the truth, you’re the one who made it promiscuous.” You rolled your eyes, and for the first time in awhile it wasn’t condescending, but rather endearing. “Whatever, I know what you meant.” He smiled, his smile coy and sly, a perfect display of the mischievous part of Noritoshi not many people got to see. “Y’know...it really hurt having you ignore me like that for months...and now that I know you deleted my contact and avoided me, i’m rather hurt by your actions…” You narrowed your eyes as you could hear the teasing tone he held in his voice.

“...What are you up to Kamo?” He shook his head, leaning back in closer to you, his closeness causing your neck and face to heat up as your heart beat started to pick up its pace. His lips grazed your own before they slid to your cheek, all the while his hand dropped to your side where you had haphazardly left your phone when you sat down. “Getting my number back in your phone.” Your eyes widened as your face got impossibly hotter, watching as he tried and failed to suppress his smirk as he did what he ‘intended to’ and re-entered his contact. “There, all better.” He handed you your phone, you shaking your head as embarrassment started to set in.

“Well, now that you’re obviously feeling better, I’m going to go check on the others.” You didn’t get far before his hand had caught your wrist, and instead of letting go, he pulled you towards him, lips crashing on yours as his other hand steadied your waist. One of your hands wrapped around his neck while your knee propped itself up on his bed, his hand that was on your wrist now sat securely on your hip. He kissed you with what seemed to be the most love-filled and intense kiss the two of you had ever shared, and there had been quite a few kisses shared between the two of you. You moved to sit more on the bed as he pulled you closer, your kisses becoming more intense as the moments passed, and your surroundings began to blur.

“Well this is interesting.” You gasped as your head whipped around, finding not only Gojo, but half of the Kyoto school, Panda, Maki, and all 3 of the 1st years standing crowded in the door way watching with round shocked eyes at seeing two of the most respected and potential filled students making out like their lives depended on it. You felt your face get hot with more embarrassment when you heard Maki yell “ahA! I told you! Fork over the 20 Megumi!” You gave Noritoshi one last smile as you stepped down from his bed, bowing to everyone as you walked out and to your room. “I’ll see you all later, bye everyone, bye Noritoshi.” Before you made your way to your room to scream into your pillow, your steps increased as you heard the parade of ‘nice one y/n!’ and ‘lock the door next time!’.

You got to your room and fell face-first onto your bed. To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. Eventually you got up and did your nightly routine, changing into some comfortable pj’s before getting under the covers of your bed and setting your phone to charge. Just as you set your phone down, it dinged with a notification. Furrowing your eyebrows you picked you phone up to see it was a text, picking it up you read it. ‘Sorry for the interruption, but don’t worry, apparently we get the day off tomorrow so we can talk things out then ;)’ you laughed at Noritoshi’s use of an emoji, remembering that it was you who had taught him to use them in the first place.

You wrote out and sent your response, smiling uncontrollably at the ‘goodnight❤’ he sent before returning it and going to set your phone down. You paused when you noticed he had also put his ‘name’ into your phone. ‘Boyfriend’. You turned your phone off and screamed into your pillow, knowing it would be awhile before you could sleep with your head and heart filled to the brim with the one that (almost) got away.

[jasontoddssoulmate]

I made an account for the sole purpose of this TUA fic concept

I’m a sucker for those “the characters read the books/watch the series” fics and I’ve read a little for TUA but I just had the idea:

The Hargreeves kids watching the two seasons but instead of just the seven of them, their birth mothers are brought in to watch as well

Maybe have the birth mothers family (if they have any) watch it with them 

This happens before everything. Before Ben’s death, before Five’s disappearance, before they even have their names. The kids, One through Seven, are brought in. Maybe when they’re old enough to get the gist of what’s going on, but before they’re 13.

These 6 young women are brought in (because I adore that Luther and Five being twins is canon in the comics and I love the mention of it), and they’re confused because maybe The Umbrella Academy isn’t internationally well known so the kids are familiar but they can’t put the name to the face. Not until they introduce themselves, anyways, and suddenly they’re face to face with the baby that they gave away years ago.

Maybe a few of them regret it, maybe they tried to forget it, maybe they spend so much of their time thinking about it or maybe they’re overjoyed that their baby seems to be doing so well. 

But their names. 

There’s just so much about them that doesn’t feel,,, so right? Maybe that’s not the word for it but they’re too polite sometimes, their casually cruel treatment towards their sister isn’t normal and the way that they simultaneously act entitled and inferior towards each other isn’t suppose to be as normal as the kids make it out to be. 

All in all, the women are confused and maybe a bit wary of their casual usage of powers among each other that’s normal to the siblings as much as it is abnormal to the birth mothers. 

But communication is easy since each child learned their own mother language as well as the language of their siblings birth place and then some which only seems to remind the women that holy shit these kids are technically rich because of their father

The Hargreeves though? They’re confused and wary as hell. They may not have been introduced as The Inaugural Class of The Umbrella Academy yet (or maybe they have considering what your timeline is) but they’ve been training for most of their life and the situation is baffling. Here are these random people that they’ve never met before (at least to their knowledge) and they’ve never had to go outside to interact with others, not really at least. 

So it makes sense that they go for polite but threatening. They maybe decide unanimously that the weaker willed ones like Four, Six and Seven are discreetly protected behind their older (in spirit) siblings, One, Two, Three and Five. 

But they’re no real threat, its obvious in the way that the Hispanic woman uses such an endearing term like “mijo/a” and the way that the Russian woman has an ever present smile on her face and such a sweet disposition that reminds them of their littlest sibling and hey her eyes look just like Seven 

So after a while, they’re more open to being relaxed. Not Five though, he’s always been just a little paranoid and being a 58-year-old in a 13-year-old body never had anything to do with it. So he’s got a harsh personality but the Danish woman doesn’t seem to be deterred. He kind of reminds her of her older twin brother who acts so harshly, but who she knows loves her so much.  

So here are 7 siblings and 6 women and maybe family that was there for the women when they needed them the most. And maybe the person(s) behind this decide to be kept anonymous but they oh so want the children to get to know what being cared for is like. Maybe these women get to know the consequences of their actions or the children learn that the one who birthed them had their reasons. And it’s no excuse but it’s also not their fault. Both parties should be able to feel what they feel because it’s a complicated and maybe painful situation. 

The children lose their respect for their father every episode. Even One, who they all know cherished the favoritism but it doesn’t get in the way of his horror when he finds out that he used to lock Four in the mausoleum, still does if the flashbacks are anything to go by because not Four, not the kindest and brightest of their siblings. 

And when they learn of Seven’s powers and the reason why they are never present, they are understandably upset. They feel rage and disbelief that she had such a crucial part of herself ripped away at such a young age, because they know that their powers are like another limb. They’re born with it and they grow up with it and they were able to live their life with it so they feel rage. Rage that Seven had been so violated. Rage that the Seven they know isn’t really the Seven she was suppose to grow up to be. The Seven they knew as toddlers was sweet towards them but had a mean protective streak a mile wide that could never be controlled, not even by their father. The Seven they know now is so meek and desperate for attention. The Russian woman looks the most devastated as she thinks of the baby girl she got to hold for only a few hours before she was whisked away by a rich old man who is turning out to be the monster that one often hears about in television. 

But the women? They watch as the children in front of them, maybe a little damaged and emotionally constipated but so obviously protective and caring for each other, grow to be the grow ups in the screen above them that grow up and grow apart after so much tragedy. 

They watch as seven eventually becomes five. 

How Luther is sent to isolation for years and he goes along with it in a bid to continue to please their father.

How Diego continues to rebel because he wasn’t able to growing up but also maybe because he wants to spite his father, no matter how much he protests that he could care less what his father thinks.

How Allison goes through a divorce and loses her parental rights to even see her daughter due to her dependence of her powers that leaves her devastated. 

How Klaus is an addict who desperately wishes to get rid of the ghosts that have followed him all his life. 

How Five disappears only a little while after their current timeline.

How Ben was brutally killed by his own powers, never getting to grow up and become his own person. 

How Vanya can’t seem to do anything but go through the motions of her life, maybe having a little hope that she’ll be seen this time around, but is quickly squashed from Diego’s disparaging comments and the casual dismissal of her from her living siblings. 

They watch all this, and feel sadness and rightful anger that their babies lead the life of ex-child superheroes. The life of abused children. The life of children who had only each other. 

But was it really enough? Was it enough to know that they loved each other but had a hard time showing it and owning up to it due to fear of their father? Due to the constant comparisons and the way Sir Reginald had them turn on each other. 

But they knew it was enough. They see it in how Diego waits for Klaus to drive him around even after he had expresses annoyance beforehand, in the joy on Allison’s face when she sees Klaus again after so long, in how Five makes sure to check up on Klaus after his kidnapping, on Luther’s face when he apologizes to Vanya after realizing his own misgivings, in Ben’s task of continuing to follow his brother around even when it pains him and in Klaus trying to comfort Luther after he finds the unopened correspondents. They see it in the support they show Vanya as she goes to check on Harlan.

It had to be enough to know that after all they went through, they still care for one another and at the end of the day, would protect one another just as they were as One through Seven. 

So they watch what would be the Hargreeve’s kids misadventures, they watch as they grow together and grow apart just to grow together again, much stronger than before. 

They express sadness and disbelief when they see where Five ends up, they get mad when Leonard throws Vanya’s pills away, they grieve when they learn that Ben is dead, they’re embarrassed but find it hilarious whenever Klaus cracks an inappropriate joke, they become protective when there’s allusion to Vanya having sex, and are rightfully ready to throw down with Leonard as they watch their littlest sibling get gaslit into believing her family hates her as he nitpicks all of her interactions with her family. 

But just as they express their feelings over what happens to their family, they feel an immense amount of exasperation towards their older selves because so much could be fixed if they only talked to each other. 

They watch and despair over the missed opportunity that is Leonard in the same house as them just as they find out what his role is in the apocalypse.

Four tears up as he watched Klaus and Dave’s reunion be undone after all the heartache. 

Seven cringes when Vanya dismisses Five’s claims that he had been stuck in an apocalyptic wasteland and suggests that he’s gone crazy after his stint with time travel. 

Three feels her heart drop to her stomach as the flashback shows what becomes the moment that she faces the hard truth that come with her use of her powers.

Five feels himself flush in embarrassment as he watched two version of himself in the future, one that looks not much older than he does currently, go through paradox psychosis. 

Six feels frustration and a fierce grief that leaves him confused because he’s still alive he’s not dead, but I don’t have much longer. 

One feels horror as he watches himself hurt his siblings one after the other with a sense of helplessness because this isn’t me, I wouldn’t do this but I already did, why would I hurt my siblings, I’m Number One I have to be the one who protects them- 

The women, on the other hand, see themselves in their children. 

The French woman sees how her daughter and granddaughter, it seems, both look like a carbon copy of herself and her own mother. 

The Danish woman sees herself and her twin brother in Luther and Five. Sees her own personality reflected in Luther and her brothers personality in Five. Sees how her twins care just as much for each other and their siblings as herself and her brother do each other.

The Hispanic woman sees Diego’s fierce sense of justice that leaves others in the dust, and sees herself as she fought to keep her boy but ultimately lost him just as Diego loses Eudora. She thinks to herself like mother like son and bitterly laughs to herself but she’s so grateful that Diego had a mother who cared for him just as she cared for him because she often though about him and always made sure to commemorate his birthday. 

The German woman can’t help but see herself in her boy. Can’t help but see her little brother in him. Can’t help but see her older brother in him. Because Klaus is so joyful but he hides his pain behind a mask like her younger brother, he’s so loving towards his siblings like her older brother, and so nonsensical like herself. So like herself, down to the curly hair and the addiction. Even if she was able to overcome it with support from her family, it pains her and leaves her in despair to see Klaus and can’t find fault in those he had around him because she sees how much they try and sees how hard the Hargreeves find expressing emotion is to others. 

The Asian woman sees how sweet and shy her youngest is and thinks only of her oldest, who reminds her so much of him and can only despair in seeing that he didn’t live as long as her oldest had. She can only ask herself why her children don’t seem to be able to see themselves to adulthood but can only be grateful that even in death he has someone with him.

The Russian woman knows that her husband sees her in little number Seven, in Vanya, no matter how little that is. Maybe their personalities aren’t so similar because Seven is shy but she’s got the sweetest heart and so clearly loves her siblings. She has the same smile that she has and her little doe eyes remind her of herself when she was younger. She’s so small next to her siblings, just like herself. 

So they see themselves in these kids, these grown ups. But so do the Hargreeves. 

They see how Luther looks like what the Danish woman would look like as a man and how Five looks exactly like a younger version of the Danish man who introduced himself as the woman's older brother. 

They see how Two has the same skin tone and facial structure as the Hispanic woman. 

They see that Allison looks exactly like the French woman and see the same in Claire. 

They see Four’s curly hair and slim build in the German woman. 

They notice how Six shares the same dark hair and lower facial features. 

They see Seven’s eyes and smile and short stature in the Russian woman. 

So maybe they don’t know them well enough to see what the women see, but they grow to see it overtime because they spend so much time there, in this suspended room in time.

The women insist on getting to know them and vice versa. They insist that they have to talk about their feelings and assure them or gently scold them, depending on the reason, for what they feel because god do these children need to learn how to talk more about their emotions in a healthy way.

They get closer to the children and start to really see their childish side. They all fight over the silliest things, and become pouty when attention isn’t being drawn over to them. They crave physical affection, even Five who won’t admit that his maternal uncle patting him and One of the head made him feel all gooey inside. They make faces towards foods that they don’t like and still prefer junk food over real food. 

So maybe it’s harder to let themselves act like children because they’re being conditioned to not “be childish” but even then they have their lapses in control. Four enters a state of panic after being reminded of his time in the mausoleum. One feels overwhelming guilt when he sees how Luther hurts Klaus and reminds himself that he’s the one that needs to protect them, as the leader and self proclaimed older sibling. Five feels himself cry for the first time in a long while when he sees how his siblings act towards him in the future and realize it hurts him deeply because he knows that he’s messed up their lives a lot but can’t they see that he only want to keep them alive, he doesn’t want to see them die again, he can’t-

But instead of being shamed into controlling their emotions, they are comforted and reassured. Four’s birth mother helps ground him and counts his breathing with him to keep him from falling further into his panic. One get’s reassured by his birth mother that his future self isn’t his current self. That everyone in the room has seen just how much he cares for his siblings and knows he would do anything for them. The twins uncle gives into his urge and hugs Five, whispering in a hushed tone that it’s okay to cry, to let it all out. He whispers that his older siblings are being idiots and if they knew just how much their actions were hurting you, they wouldn’t hesitate to apologize and hug you too. His words only make Five cry harder. 

So they are cared for and allowed to be themselves fully and can be childish to their hearts content. And their birth families watch on in amazement and adoration. 

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

I have so much more that I’ll probably add later, but basically I want them to be cared for, allowed to care for each other and learn to express themselves better. I want to see them get to have a good relationship with an adult and if possible their birth mothers. 

Pls share links and stuff if you get inspired, I’m not much for writing fanfic but I really do want to see something like this. I’d read the shit out of it. I have so much more that I want to add but I’ll probably do something about it later. 

[ashnlngs]

          as if the last couple of weeks hadn’t been terrifying enough ( he almost died, jack almost died, eden’s brother was ... back from the dead and they almost lost ellis inside of jack’s subconscious )   ...  there wasn’t enough time in this world to let him process and deal with the events that had transpired. yet, here he was, inside of karisa’s spacious apartment, watching as sienna had been collateral damage in eden’s emotional outburst - while eden remained unscathed. it wasn’t the first time something like this happened and now that his wife is hurt because of eden he’s livid. “you have got to be out of your fucking mind if you think i’ll let you take a step closer to my wife.” benji shouted, finger pointed in jack’s direction as the prince in question tenses up. “we’ve all done things in the heat of the moment benji, sienna..” jack tries to explain as benji takes a step closer to the demi-god.

          "she what? blindly followed eden and the rest of the enteraogue like she always does? ends up getting hurt because she thinks she owes you guys something? fuck you jack. i don’t want to hear your bullshit ass excuse.” kalista turns her attention to her daughter who’s trying her best to concentrate over sienna’s wound, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “ignore them, focus.” kalista ordered as anastasia rolls her eyes, “i’m trying.” 

           “eden isn’t the one who pulled the trigger benji, your anger is pointed at the wrong person.” karisa doesn’t need to look at eden to know what facial expression her best friend is currently wearing, a ring adorned hand is currently holding eden’s as karisa puts half of her body in front of the petite brunette. she knows benji wouldn’t do anything stupid but - it was out of habit. “oh right, she didn’t pull the trigger but it’s her fucking fault. everything is about eden. eden goes to the underworld, frees karisa’s dead ex boyfriend, proceeds to get stabbed and then sienna has to save the day. or when eden decides to go back to the underworld to get her brother, she decides to kill a general and brings back one of his fucking henchmen and then i almost die. and now, eden, again, decides to go eye for eye and sienna again, get’s left behind because eden can’t keep herself in check. my son would’ve been fatherless and sienna would’ve been a widow. now look at the situation we’ve found ourselves in. do you know what it’s like to have to try to pull yourself together and heal your dying husband? or how i’m supposed to explain to our son that his mother died because of her? how many times has sienna bent backwards for you guys?” the base in his voice is alarming. 

             "and that’s my fiance you’re talking about, so choose your next words very carefully.” jack threatened and benji laughs. “do you think i’m scared of you? you bleed just like me, kastos.” karisa turns to ellis quickly and pushes eden into his general direction, putting herself in between the two men, hands on their chests. “enough, we’re all worried for sienna and what happened isn’t okay, i understand. trying to kill each other isn’t going to solve anything.”

            "your boyfriend wasn’t concerned when he couldn’t take five seconds to make sure sienna was behind him!” another shout, this time, he’s turning red and his hands are shaking. the reality of it all is finally hitting him. “oh fuck, wait, not your boyfriend, just the ‘guy you fuck’ whenever your fiance isn’t in town, so if i hurt him instead of jack, it won’t bother you as much, would it?” karisa is quick to grab a fistful of benji’s shirt, despite their obvious height difference, the strawberry blonde doesn’t care. “not another word benji.” a threat said through clenched teeth, her siblings going silent in the moment. “just because your wife is bleeding on the ground, doesn’t give you the right to be a jackass. if you want to be angry be angry. but remember the only reason why i won’t let any of them touch you is because you’re sienna’s husband and the father of a very beautiful boy. do not make me go back on my word.” benji is well aware of the promise karisa and sienna had made, whatever happens to sienna from here to the next eon, to ensure that benji and their son were always taken care of. and she would honor that. but benji wasn’t making it easy. and he also knows that karisa means what she says. despite the ... irritation he’s stirred, he knows karisa would ensure no harm comes his way.   /    @intheirabsence​   !

[aion-rsa]

Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor

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As recently as September 2020 David Tennant topped a Radio Times poll of favourite Doctors. He beat Tom Baker in a 2006 Doctor Who Magazine poll, and was voted the best TV character of the 21st Century by the readers of Digital Spy. He was the Doctor during one of Doctor Who‘s critical and commercial peaks, bringing in consistently high ratings and a Christmas day audience of 13.31 million for ‘Voyage of the Damned’, and 12.27 million for his final episode, ‘The End of Time – Part Two’. He is the only other Doctor who challenges Tom Baker in terms of associated iconography, even being part of the Christmas idents on BBC One as his final episodes were broadcast. Put simply, the Tenth Doctor is ‘My Doctor’ for a huge swathe of people and David Tennant in a brown coat will be the image they think of when Doctor Who is mentioned.

In articles to accompany these fan polls, Tennant’s Doctor is described as ‘amiable’ in contrast to his predecessor Christopher Eccleston’s dark take on the character. Ten is ‘down-to-earth’, ‘romantic’, ‘sweeter’, ‘more light-hearted’ and the Doctor you’d most want to invite you on board the TARDIS. That’s interesting in some respects, because the Tenth Doctor is very much a Jekyll and Hyde character. He’s handsome, he’s charismatic, and travelling with him can be addictively fun, but he is also casually cruel, harshly dismissive, and lacking in self-awareness. His ego wants feeding, and once fed, can have destructive results.

That tension in the character isn’t due to bad writing or acting. Quite the contrary. Most Doctors have an element of unpleasantness to their behaviour. Ever since the First Doctor kidnapped Ian and Barbara, the character has been moving away from the entitled snob we met him as, but can never escape it completely.

Six and Twelve were both written to be especially abrasive, then soften as time went on (with Colin Baker having to do this through Big Finish audio plays rather than on telly). A significant difference between Twelve and Ten, though, is that Twelve questions himself more. Ten, to the very end, seems to believe his own hype.

The Tenth Doctor’s duality is apparent from his first full appearance in 2005’s ‘The Christmas Invasion’. Having quoted The Lion King and fearlessly ambled through the Sycorax ship in a dressing gown, he seems the picture of bonhomie, that lighter and amiable character shining through. Then he kills their leader. True, it was in self-defence, but it was lethal force that may not have been necessary. Then he immediately topples the British Prime Minister for a not dissimilar act of aggression. Immediately we see the Tenth Doctor’s potential for violence and moral grey areas. He’s still the same man who considered braining someone with a rock in ‘An Unearthly Child’. 

Teamed with Rose Tyler, a companion of similar status to Tennant’s Doctor, they blazed their way through time and space with a level of confidence that bordered on entitlement, and a love that manifested itself negatively on the people surrounding them. The most obvious example in Series 2 is ‘Tooth and Claw’, where Russell T. Davies has them react to horror and carnage in the manner of excited tourists who’ve just seen a celebrity. This aloof detachment results in Queen Victoria establishing the Torchwood institute that will eventually split them apart. We see their blinkers on again in ‘Rise of the Cybermen’, when they take Mickey for granted. Rose and the Doctor skip along the dividing line between romance and hubris.

Then, in a Christmassy romp where the Doctor is grieving the loss of Rose, he commits genocide and Donna Noble sucker punches him with ‘I think you need somebody to stop you’. Well-meaning as this statement is, the Doctor treats it as a reason to reduce his next companion to a function rather than a person. Martha Jones is there to stop the Doctor, as far as he’s concerned. She’s a rebound companion. Martha is in love with him, and though he respects her, she’s also something of a prop.

This is the series in which the Doctor becomes human in order to escape the Family of Blood (adapted from a book in which he becomes human in order to understand his companion’s grief, not realising anyone is after him), and is culpable for all the death that follows in his wake. Martha puts up with a position as a servant and with regular racist abuse on her travels with this man, before finally realising at the end of the series that she needs to get out of the relationship. For a rebound companion, Martha withstands a hell of a lot, mostly caused by the Doctor’s failings. 

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Series 4 develops the Doctor further, putting the Tenth’s Doctor’s flaws in the foreground more clearly. Donna is now travelling with him, and simply calls him out on his behaviour more than Rose or Martha did. Nonetheless the Doctor ploughs on, and in ‘Midnight’ we see him reduced to desperate and ugly pleas about how clever he is when he’s put in a situation he can’t talk himself out of.

Rose has also become more Doctor-like while trapped in another reality, and brutally tells Donna that she’s going to have to die in order to return to the original timeline (just as the Doctor tells Donna she’s going to have to lose her memories of travelling with him in order to live her previous life, even as she clearly asks him not to – and how long did the Doctor know he would have to do this for? It’s not like he’s surprised when Donna starts glitching). Tied into this is the Doctor’s belief in his own legend. In ‘The Doctor’s Daughter’ he holds a gun to Cobb’s head, then withdraws it and asks that they start a society based on the morals of his actions. You know, like a well-adjusted person does.

What’s interesting here is that despite presenting himself as ‘a man who never would’, the Doctor is a man who absolutely would. We’ve seen him do it. Even the Tenth Doctor, so keen to live up to the absolute moral ideals he espouses, killed the Sycorax leader and the Krillitanes, drove the Cybermen to die of despair, brought the Family of Blood to a quiet village and then disposed of them personally. But Tennant doesn’t play this as a useful lie, he plays it as something the Doctor absolutely believes in that moment, that he is a man who would not kill even as his daughter lies dead. It’s why his picking up a gun in ‘The End of Time’ has such impact. And it makes some sense that the Tenth Doctor would reject violence following a predecessor who regenerated after refusing to commit another double-genocide.

In the series finale ‘Journey’s End‘, Davros accuses the Doctor of turning his friends into weapons. This is because the Doctor’s friends have used weapons against the Daleks who – and I can’t stress this enough – are about to kill everyone in the entire universe. Fighting back against them seems pretty rational. Also – and again I can’t stress this enough – the Daleks are bad. Like, really bad. You won’t believe just how mindbogglingly bad they are. The Doctor has tried to destroy them several times by this point. Here, there isn’t the complication of double-genocide, and instead the very real threat of absolutely everyone in the universe dying. This accusation, that the Doctor turns people into weapons, should absolutely not land.

And yet, with the Tenth Doctor, it does. This is a huge distinction between him and the First Doctor, who had to persuade pacifists to fight for him in ‘The Daleks’.

In ‘The Sontaran Strategem’ Martha compares the Doctor to fire. It’s so blunt it almost seems not worth saying, but it’s the perfect analogy (especially for a show where fire is a huge part of the very first story). Yes, fire shines in dark places, yes it can be a beacon, but despite it being very much fire’s entire deal, people can forget that it burns. And fire has that mythical connection of being stolen from the gods and brought to humanity. The Time Lord Victorious concept fits the Tenth Doctor so well. Of all the Doctors, he’s the most ready to believe in himself as a semi-mythic figure.

Even when regenerating there’s a balance between hero and legend: the Tenth Doctor does ultimately save Wilfred Mott, but only after pointing out passionately how big a sacrifice he’s making. And then he goes to get his reward by meeting all his friends, only to glare at them from a distance. His last words are ‘I don’t want to go’, which works well as clearly being a poignant moment for the actor as well, but in the context of Doctor Who as a whole it renders Ten anomalous: no one else went this unwillingly. And yet, in interviews Russell T. Davies said it was important to end the story with ‘the Doctor as people have loved him: funny, the bright spark, the hero, the enthusiast’.

It’s fascinating then, that this is the Doctor who has been taken to heart by so many viewers because there’s such an extreme contrast between his good-natured front, his stated beliefs, and his actions. He clearly loves Rose and Donna, but leaves them with a compromised version of happiness. They go on extraordinary journeys only to end up somewhere that leaves them less than who they want to be, with Russell T. Davies being more brutally honest than Steven Moffat, who nearly always goes the romance route. Davies once said to Mark Lawson that he liked writing happy endings ‘because in the real world they don’t exist’, but his endings tend towards the bittersweet: Mickey and Martha end up together but this feels like they’re leftovers from the Doctor and Rose’s relationship. The Tenth Doctor doesn’t, as Nine does, go with a smile, but holding back tears.

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It’s a testament to how well written the Tenth Doctor is that the character has this light and shade, and with David Tennant’s immense likeability he can appeal to a wider audience as a result. It’s not surprise he wins all these polls, but I can’t help but feel that if the Doctor arrived and invited me on board the TARDIS, I’d want it to be anyone but Ten.

The post Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 17: Crime Boss

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: Crime Boss

Rated: M (Canon-typical violence, sexual innuendo, but also the Ventriloquist dies horribly in this one)

Ladybug’s knees collided painfully with the hardwood floor, there was maybe a very thin threadbare carpet to soften the blow.  The more she struggled, the more the handcuffs started to bite and chafe at her wrists.  She could really use someone with Cataclysm right about now, but she left that someone behind and took his ring with her.  She came to Gotham to get away from her life in Paris, away from the trials and tribulations of her teenage years.  By day she was a design student at Gotham University, and she wasn’t doing much else by night.  One night, tonight of all nights, she walked past a teenage boy being beaten up on a street corner.  The teenage boy in question was her neighbour, Leon. She sometimes took care of him when his dad was busy.  She just could not resist calling upon Tikki’s help to stop them.  Now here she was, with a bag over her head, about to meet her maker at the hands of a formidable crime lord.  She had heard whispers about “The Red Hood” and how he had done away with Black Mask and crowned himself as his successor.  She started to wonder if leaving Paris was a good idea after all.

Just as she was pondering this, the bag covering her head was ripped away and she was torn away from her thoughts at that moment.  She found herself looking up at a figure dressed neck to toe in leather and Kevlar.  He sat in the armchair with his legs leisurely sprawled out, his gloved hands gripping the armrests as he leaned forward to get a better look at her.  Ladybug saw her frightened expression reflected in a shiny, scarlet helmet, with two white spots that looked like eyes.  Ladybug could have sworn that he was squinting at her behind the helmet, closely watching and waiting for her next move.  

“So, why did you bring me another costumed vigilante?” He asked, the mask was muffling his voice, but she could clearly hear what he was saying. 

“We were taking care of some business and she got in the way,” the henchman to her left informed him.  He leaned in closer to whisper to me, “not so tough now, are you Sweetheart?” he laughed as Marinette tried to lean away from him.  Was every man determined to invade her personal space every chance they got?

“I’m asking the questions here, I will decide what to do with her.” Red Hood snapped at the henchman, he leaned back in his chair as the henchman backed away.

“Don’t know if she’s from around here, Boss.” The henchman to her other side remarked. “The little lady spoke with an accent when she tried to stop us”, Ladybug glanced over at the other Henchman before turning her attention back to the faceless man in front of her. 

Red Hood looked at the two Henchmen before looking down at the girl kneeling in front of him.  The costume was a bright red bodysuit with black polka dots, and she had a matching domino mask to hide her identity.  Her dark blue eyes were frantically trying to read the men surrounding her, there was no mistaking the fear in her expression.  Something was amiss, why would they bring him someone whom they could easily have overpowered?  Maybe they thought it would be funny to see him shoot her brains out of her pretty little head.  He noticed one of the henchmen had faint red welts around his arm, almost as if someone tried wrapping wire around it.  The lines were too thin, compared to the more sturdy grappling wires he used.  His other Henchman had a bruise on his cheek that was probably going to go from a plum colour to a sickly yellow in the days to come.  If the girl was another one of Bruce’s pet projects, then she might send the old man right to his doorstep.  If she wasn’t, she would have fit the bill anyhow.  With her dark hair and blue eyes, how she apparently just leapt into action to save a complete stranger from being beaten up.   She wasn’t armed to the teeth with gadgets, and he’d have heard something if Bruce had taken in another protégé.

“So, can you understand what I’m saying?” he asked, she simply nodded, not saying anything in response.  “What happened?” he tried to keep it simple, no sense dancing around the topic, “Who are you?”

“Your two men were hurting someone, I couldn’t ignore them” she explained, her fear morphing into a show of defiance.  Red Hood shook his head, so a vigilante no one’s heard of just leapt in to stop his men from hurting someone.  She was either very foolish or had been doing this for a very long time. 

“That someone was a little punk who owed us money” one of the Henchmen explained, “we gave ya a chance to walk away girlie, even after you whipped out your little toy.” He chuckled.

“Who owed me money?” Red Hood asked, the men suddenly went very quiet.  Something still wasn’t right, and his men weren’t talking.  He turned his attention back to the girl, time for a different tactic. “Did you know who they were hurting?” he asked, Ladybug thought for a moment before shaking her head.  So she jumped in to save a complete stranger? He couldn’t say he was surprised, what she said next would make this much more interesting.

“He was just a boy,” she explained, trying not to stutter as she looked up at him.  “He-” she began, she looked up to see the henchmen were ready to lunge for her.

He raised a hand to stop them, “go on” he told her.

“He said he owed your men money because he bought drugs from them” she said, now trying to get the words out before someone could stop her.  “He was just a boy, he’s around 14 years old, he needed help”.  His hands reached for his pistols. “Woah boss, you can’t seriously believe what this girl is saying, right?” one of the henchmen called out.

Red Hood ordered his men to shut up. “So what’s the boy’s name?” 

Ladybug gulped, “Leon” she answered.

Red Hood glared at his men. 

One man spoke up, "Punk owed us money, still hasn’t paid us for the goods, that’s why we gave ‘em a beating.” The man immediately covered his mouth. “What did I tell you, scumbags?” he asked in a low, harsh voice. “Look, we-” “My one rule.” he reiterated, Ladybug swallowed hard.  This wasn’t going to end well for any of them. “No dealing to children,” the henchman told him, “we weren’t, we were dealing to some old guy who happened to have a kid...as a courier.” he explained.  Ladybug thought it was their word over hers, she looked back up at him.  If that was his one golden rule, then it was one they had undoubtedly crossed.   She had to play her cards right, if she wanted to appeal to his humanity.  “Ask anyone in the area, and they’ll tell you he’s just a kid,” she said, “His dad barely leaves his living room, never mind the apartment.” Ladybug noticed Red Hood reach for the guns, she shut her eyes tight and ducked as if that would save her from the two gunshots she heard.

Ladybug waited for the pain of the gunshot wound, maybe even numbness from where she had been shot.  There was no guarantee that Tikki was able to protect her from gunshots, but she didn’t feel anything.  She slowly opened one eye to look up at the tall, imposing figure in front of her, who went back to reading his book.  She opened her other eye and slowly got up to find the Red Hood leisurely leaning back in his armchair, while the two henchmen lay dead on the floor.  He put his guns back in their holsters before picking up the open book next to him.  Ladybug looked around at the two men, dead on the floor with blood dripping from their foreheads.  “Y-you killed them,” she stammered, before she cursed herself, as if stating the obvious was going to stop him from putting a bullet in her. 

“I have one golden rule, and they broke it.” He explained, he lowered his book as he stared her down.  “Still, what am I going to do with you?” he wondered aloud. 

“You can start by letting me go,” she spat, she stood up as she looked right into the glowing white lights on his helmet.  Her hands were still bound by the cuffs, but she still had her legs.  Her mind raced with all the things she could do if he tried anything.  She could kick him away or use the handcuff chain to choke this man if he tried anything.  What she should be doing is running for the exit or finding a way to break the handcuffs. Instead, the man put the book down and grabbed the handcuffs by the chain.  The Red Hood could just about see the gears turning in her head as she tried to find a way out of this situation.

“Well, if the accent is anything to go by, I’d say you’re probably French? Maybe Belgian.  Eitherway, you’re a loose end I really can’t afford right now,” he explained as he pulled her closer to him.  “So, tell me mon amie, what are we going to do with you?” he asked.  Marinette tried to pull away, but his grip held her in place without too much trouble. 

Red Hood obviously didn’t plan on killing the girl right then and there, it wasn’t her fault that a couple of henchmen wanted to cover their asses for doing the one thing he told them not to.  The problem was, she didn’t know that.  As far as she was concerned, she was unlucky enough to wind up on her knees in front of an up-and-coming crime lord.  He pulled the chains towards him.  “Consider this a favor, I’ll come and find you when I’m looking to cash it in.” He stood up and put the bag over her head, still holding her by the handcuffs. 

Ladybug though he was surprisingly a little more gentle with her as he led her away from his hideout.  All she could hear were gentle reminders to watch her step, as he led her down steps and into what felt like a cool breeze outside. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, but there was no answer. After a few steps of literally blindly following a stranger, they stopped.  He pulled the bag off her head and Ladybug had to blink a couple of times to adjust to the sudden rush of light to her eyes.  She looked around and saw that she was at the pier, watching the sun rise over Gotham Bay.

“Hold still” was all she heard, as he jerked the cuffs forward and unlocked them one by one.  Ladybug looked up and only just realised that the Red Hood absolutely towered over her.

Ladybug rubbed her chafed wrists with her hands, “Thank you” she muttered, avoiding eye contact with the person in front of her.  She didn’t know what to make of him, so she wasn’t sure how she felt about owing him favours.  On the one hand, he was a formidable crime boss who had just killed two of his own men without a second thought.  On the other hand, he killed them because he drew the line at harming kids and selling drugs to them.  Seeing as she was an 18-year-old crimefighter, did he have any qualms about hurting her?  She could not be certain, though she was also cursing herself for thinking that there was something intriguing about the crime boss with an altruistic side.  “This favour…” Ladybug began, trying to look him in the eyes and ask about it.

“I’ll come and find you when I need you, I have eyes and ears all over the city now” he explained, “no offense Pixie, but you kinda stick out like a sore thumb”.  He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “if you want to make it easier on us both, meet me in Crime Alley in a week’s time”.

“And I won’t tell anyone that their city’s big bad crime boss has a sense of humour” she joked.  She took out what looked like a yo-yo and launched it towards a lamp post and swung away.

Jason was used to people not trusting him, least of all his adopted family, and now there was the plucky young crimefighter dumb enough to take on two men twice her size.  She had guts, he had to admit, and if she kept this up it wouldn’t be long before Batman took notice.  Jason tensed up at the thought, he had just met this girl, but he wouldn’t wish what he or the others went through on her.   He wondered how long she had been doing this.  The idea that someone put her up to this from a young age made him even more tense.  If that was the case, he might feel a little sorry for her.  Alternatively, if she had been doing this for a long time, and was put through the same crucible as him only to emerge from the other side unscathed…what did that make him?  He had to see what she was made of, and for that, he needed to test her limits.  He asked her to meet him in Crime Alley, the place where it always began.

In the days leading up to their little reunion, he had been asking around about the costumed vigilante.  Seeing what his contacts knew, under the guise of asking if she was going to cause him any trouble.  Going through his dead henchmen’s burner phones, he managed to contact the kid that she had saved.  He sent him a message:

“We need to talk, the guys who gave you a hard time have been taken care of.  Need to ask about the girl who saved you. Meet me outside the diner tomorrow, the one near Gotham stadium. – R.H.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if the kid didn’t take the bait, after all he was probably shaken up by what happened.  He would be remiss as a former protégé of The World’s Greatest Detective if he left stones unturned.  He also thought maybe a burger and milkshake would sweeten the deal, the kid had been through enough.  He got a reply from the kid, it read:

“How do I know you’re not about to ‘take care’ of her? Or me? I don’t want any trouble. ”

He smiled, bless his little heart for trying to protect her.  He would just have to let this kid know that he was someone who could be trusted, that he had much bigger plans for his savior.

“My men crossed a line, the girl told me about what happened and I let her go.  I just want to know what you know, I’ll throw in a burger and milkshake. – R.H.”

The next day he waited, he had hoped wherever the kid was, he was one of the many teenagers finishing school around this time.  There was no guarantee that the kid would show up.  At around 4:30pm, sure enough a scrawny little teenager was looking around for the mysterious Red Hood.  Jason noticed the kid was wearing sunglasses, probably in a feeble attempt to hide the bruising on the side of his face. “H-hello?” he spluttered to no one in particular, Red Hood emerged from the shadows with a brown paper bag.

The kid rushed towards him, and he held it open so that he could see what was inside. “You’re the kid who got beaten up a few days ago?” he nodded sheepishly, Red Hood put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Listen, I took care of them because they crossed a line selling the stuff to you, I’m sorry.” He handed him the paper bag.

“It wasn’t for me…the drugs I mean. My dad, he-” that just made Red Hood’s blood boil even more, but he had to focus. “My neighbor, Marinette, she’s a fashion student at Gotham U.  She looks after me sometimes, she’s really nice. She grew up in a bakery in Paris, so she’s always making bread and cakes whenever I come over.” As he explained this, Red Hood calmed down a little at the thought of someone looking out for this kid. He took a few bites of his burger, and a mouthful of the chocolate milkshake.  “I owed those guys money, usually my dad gave me money to pay them but lately he hasn’t.  So, my piggy bank was starting to run a little dry, and I guess one day they got sick of waiting.” He explained, Red Hood tried to steer the conversation towards the girl saving him.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, just tell me what happened when the girl showed up” he told him in a soft voice.

“I thought I saw a pink light in the distance, and when I looked up, a girl in a red polka-dotted suit was trying to save me.  One guy was about to punch me when she used a yo-yo and wrapped it around his arm to pull it away from me. I don’t know what that thing was made of, but she managed to pull the guy towards her and away from me.” He continued to gush about how happy he was that this costumed heroine stepped in to save him.  As he described the fight, that first part lined up with the marks he saw on the henchman’s forearm.  “She just told me to ‘run’ and I didn’t really question it”, he explained.

“So, a girl in a magic costume saved you by using her magic yo-yo?” He asked, “did you see anything else?”

“Nope, I did what I was told and ran like hell.  I tried to see if my neighbour, Marinette, was home, but she was probably at the library or something” he told her.  This neighbour was a student, probably pulling an all-nighter somewhere working on a project.

“You did good kid.” He stuffed a couple of hundred into the kid’s pocket. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

“Please, don’t hurt her, she didn’t do anything wrong.  She was just trying to help me,” he pleaded.

“Relax kid, like I said, the two guys won’t be bothering you anymore”, and with that he turned and walked away.  “Go see your neighbour, Marionette or whatever, she’s probably worried sick about you”, with that he disappeared into the shadows once again.

Marinette made it home safely that night, and had spent the last few days trying not to think about what this crime boss had planned for her.  If he wanted to kill her, he could have done it right then and there.  Maybe he planned to drag this out and torture her, she had no way of knowing what he had in mind.  “There was something strange about that man”, Tikki mused when she finally powered down. 

“How so?” she asked as Tikki nibbled on the cookie she kept in her bag on the way home.

“You should probably take Plagg with you next time, I could feel something strange in his aura” Tikki told her.  “I could sense my own magic, but his magic might be mixed in there too”, she explained. 

“Did you and Plagg know who he was? Did you grant a wish for him?” she had been the Guardian since she was 13, any wish they granted before then would have been a long time ago.

“I can’t recall, but somehow he came into contact with our magic”, she explained.  Marinette decided to take her advice and bring Plagg next time, she could use Cataclysm if he tried anything. 

For the next few days, Marinette had been going about her normal, civilian life.  She was going to classes by day and working in her apartment by night.  Wednesday night, Leon finally paid her a visit and Marinette was shocked to see the bruise on his face.  Marinette decided to drop everything and give the boy some hot chocolate and cake.  He was surprisingly happy for someone who was being beaten up a few days ago.  Leon gushed about the girl who saved him, and how cool she was, and how he got to meet the Red Hood. 

Marinette froze, “Um, what’s he like?” she asked, she was surprised to hear more gushing.

“Awh he’s the best, this guy bought me a burger and a milkshake, he just wanted to know about the girl who saved me.” He was cheerfully rambling on before he noticed a slightly concerned look on Marinette’s face.

“Maybe don’t take food from strangers next time” she told him, “But what’s he like? Sorry, I haven’t lived in Gotham for very long”.

“He fights crime, just like Batman. He also looks really scary but is actually a nice guy- and I probably shouldn’t be telling you all this” he suddenly looked very sheepish.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret” she said with a wink, as she placed the warm mug of hot chocolate in front of him.   So? She was dealing with a crime boss with a VERY altruistic side, so much so that he’s considered a hero.  She should have known that, given that he shot those men for what they did to Leon.  It saddened Marinette that she couldn’t do more for Leon, but she was just a university student, she wasn’t really in a position to be his full-time guardian. 

“You make the best hot chocolate, Marinette, how do you do it?” he asked.

“Well, where I’m from we have it for breakfast.” she told him, he looked as though she told him that she communed with unicorns every morning.  “It’s true, even Marie Antoinette started her day with a cup of hot chocolate.”

“The lady who said ‘let them eat cake’?” he asked jokingly.

“Yes, but it was originally believed that she said ‘Let them eat brioche’” she told him. The two of them laughed and watched movies together, but eventually he had to return home later that night.  Considering all that she went through, Marinette felt lucky that her own family always loved and supported her.  Her father was always a gentle giant, and where her mother lacked in height she more than made up for in personality and wit.  They might not fully understand why she wanted to leave Paris of all places, to pursue a career in Fashion Design, but they supported her. 

What would they say if they could see her now? 

The week came and went, and Marinette decided to show up to Crime Alley as Lady Noire.  It was a dark and damp place, enough to give Plagg the sense that so much death and misfortune happened here.  She looked around and listened for any footsteps or figures, but the mystery man she was looking for still managed to take her by surprise.

“Surprised to see you here, Catwoman” she looked up to see the Red Hood looking down at her from a fire escape balcony. “I’m sure Batman will have something to say about the new hair,” he remarked.  There had to be some mistake here, and he seemed to realise it too when he climbed down and gave her a swift once over.  “Wait a minute…nice try poser, you’re a little short to be the real Catwoman.” he remarked, “Who are you?”.

“I’ll give you three guesses...” the girl was trying to be coy, but the accent and short stature gave it away.

“What brought on the costume change?” Red Hood asked.

“You don’t like it?” she pouted mockingly “It makes my job a whole lot harder if you’re resembling someone who takes cat burglary a little too literally”, he told her.  Now he had to rethink his plan, “why the costume change anyhow?”

“Well, you didn’t specify what your favour was. For all I know you enjoyed the sight of me kneeling in front of you in handcuffs a little too much”, Red Hood was thankful that the helmet hid the absolutely mortified look on his face.  He’d also be lying if he said he didn’t think she was cute, but he had some self-control. 

“Okay, should’ve probably said something about that. So that’s what brought about the costume change?” he asked, “Was it laundry day for the other one?”

“Let’s just say, this one has a different set of skills. This one comes with a staff, and night vision too.” she explained, “If you didn’t plan on ‘that’ kind of favour, what did you have in mind?”  Red Hood had a feeling she could do a lot more than she was letting on, but he decided to leave it for now.

“There’s a shipment of firearms weaving its way into Gotham as we speak, I plan to intercept it before Batman can find it.” He explained.

“Why? So that you can use them instead?” she snapped.

“Since you’re probably new here, trust me when I say you could do a lot worse in a place like Gotham,” he growled.  “This is also tame compared to how I would usually do things.  If anyone else got ahold of these guns, people can and will get hurt.” he told her, “Two-face, Penguin, the damned Clown Prince of Crime, none of them would think twice about mowing down innocent people to get what they want.” he took a few steps closer to her and she was trying to put on a brave face as she looked up at him.  Somehow, he got the sense that this might be out of her wheelhouse.

“So what do you want me to do?” She asked, hoping he couldn’t hear her heart pounding in her chest.  There was something about the Red Hood that Marinette couldn’t quite put her finger on.  He made it clear that he wasn’t someone to be trifled with, and that she would be foolish to underestimate him.  Yet in other ways, she could just about see the faint outline of something resembling a moral compass.  It was certainly one that was cracked, but she could just about glean where it was pointing.   

This was also the moment she realised she was way out of her depth.  She had been doing this for a few years, but she was used to people who were being controlled by Hawk Moth or Mayura.  Akumas and Amoks prepared her for a lot of things, this wasn’t one of them. 

“All right, follow me.” commanded the Red Hood as he grappled up to a roof, Lady Noire jumping from ledge to ledge to follow. The two jumped across the rooftops of Gotham until they arrived at the docks. The two stood at a rooftop across a warehouse, Red Hood perched on the ledge waiting. Red Hood points to a few small speed boats racing towards a warehouse. The speedboats quickly dock and a large group of mobsters come from the warehouse to begin unloading. As the crew quickly unload the smuggled weapons to trucks in the warehouse, the boss of the group shouts at them. “All right, hurry up and load the goods into the trucks.” spoke Scarface.

Lady Noire could hear a light growl from Red Hood, “Damn, it’s the Ventriloquist. Ready for a fight?” 

Lady Noire nodded and the two jumped down to the docks. They crash landed on a couple of mobsters, knocking them out instantly. Lady Noire used her staff to fight them off, while Red Hood ran off towards the warehouse, presumably to get the smuggled weapons. 

The Ventriloquist turned around and Scarface roared, “Shoot her!” and fired his tommy gun Lady Noire. She spun her staff quickly, creating a force field deflecting the hail of bullets coming her way.  

As the torrent subsided she heard the mob boss yell. “Help me reload ya dummy” commanded Scarface. “Yes sir,” Wesker meekly replied. 

Lady Noire took this opportunity to finish off the remaining goons in the area. Just as she knocked out the last mobster, a baseball bat cracked along the back of her skull and sent her to her knees.  She then felt hot metal placed on the back of her head and a howl of laughter. “Gotcha now ya dumb broad!” Scarface laughed.

At that moment Lady Noire panicked, she cast Cataclysm and took a swipe at Scarface. This sliced Scarface in half, however the disintegration continued. Lady Noire watched in horror and disgust as she saw Cataclysm burning away the Ventriloquist's arm. His cries of pain and begging for mercy forever etched into her mind. She felt faint and began hyperventilating as she watched the man slowly dissolve. She fell to her knees and held her other hand to her mouth, feeling the bile rise up.  She wanted to reach out, to apologise, but it was too late. She could not bear to watch anymore.  Her vision turned to black as she fell to the ground. 

Marinette woke with a start to find herself somewhere strange. Someone had laid her down to rest on a mattress.  She could hear the sound of keys tapping away on a computer, and moments later the sound of someone saying “Welcome back to the land of the living, Pixie Pop.” Marinette looked around at her surroundings, she had no idea where she was.  On the other side of the room, a boy who was only a year or two older than her turned in his chair to look at her.  Marinette sat up, her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to make sense of what had happened. The boy stood up and came over to see if she was all right.

“Where am I?” she asked, “What happened? Who are you?”

“To answer your questions, you’re in a decommissioned bomb shelter that I use as a hideout.  What happened is you took out one of Gotham’s crime bosses.  Not bad for baby’s first arms deal, “ he explained. Marinette was still trying to remember how she ended up here. “had to get out before Batman and the others got there but couldn’t find you, that was until I saw a flash of black and green light.”

It was all coming back to her, she remembered what transpired the previous night. She remembers how the cries of agony and the horror of watching a man slowly melt with the power of Cataclysm.  Marinette hadn’t used Lady Noire very often, and she was starting to wonder how Chat Noir managed all those years with this power. 

“Hey, Pixie? Still there?” the boy asked, slowly reaching out to touch her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” she yelled, her hands shook as she remembered what she’d done, “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“First of all, it was awfully nice of you to leave out the fact that you could use magic” he told her. Jason wasn’t angry in the same way Bruce would have been, Bruce didn’t trust magic users like Constantine further than he could throw him.  Still, when you’re trained by the World’s Greatest Detective, magic becomes the ultimate wild card.  He tried a different approach, the last thing she needed was to be lectured about how an arms dealer deserves to live more than her.  “Second of all, the way I see it, it was you or him.  He could have killed you, then what?” He asked.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” she spat, “maybe you’re used to this but I’m not! The people I was up against were always being controlled by someone else! They were ordinary people who let their negative emotions rule them!”  Her voice was shaking with rage and she looked away, there was no way she was going to let him see her cry.  “I didn’t even plan on continuing to be a hero, I have been doing it since I was 13.  When...I saw that poor boy in the alleyway I just...I’ve done what you asked now leave me alone.” she turned away and hugged her knees as she curled up on the edge of the mattress. 

Jason realised what made her so upset in that moment, telling her it was a matter of survival was pretty cold comfort for someone who’d just killed someone for the first time.  The fact of the matter was they had both been at this from a young age. The difference was he had been trained to fight superpowered murderers and madmen, people who were evil of their own volition.  He didn’t enjoy seeing her like this, but she made it clear that he didn’t have a clue what her world looked like.  It was probably a hell of a lot sunnier than his outlook, it probably literally smelled like sugar, spice and everything nice.  “If he had killed you, and he could have, I would have made him suffer a lot worse than you did.  Only difference is I know how.” he said there was no use sugarcoating the truth.

“Why?” she asked, “am I just some pawn in your little game against Batman?”

He walked over to the bookshelf shelf, filled with his own little souvenir collection.  A copy of the Art of War, The Prince, and many other books were nestled around them.  Among them was a photograph he took back with him on one of his trips back to Wayne Manor.  He tried to keep his frustration in check, tried to remind himself that she was just shaken, even if she had acted in self-defense.  He took the framed photograph off the shelf and handed it to her.  As far as they knew, the boy in that picture was dead and in many ways he still was.  “Look familiar?” he asked as he sat back down on the mattress, propping himself up on his arms as he leaned back.

Marinette looked at the photo, there was no mistaking that as Batman, standing there with a stern and serious expression.  The boy next to him was dressed a lot more colourfully, Marinette almost wanted to make her own adjustments to its design.  By contrast the boy had a cheeky smile, as if he was ready to take on the world with Batman at his side. She also noticed the person next to her had a white lock of hair framing his face. “Is that…'' she asked, she had stopped crying but now she was working out what he was trying to say.  She looked at the boy in the photo and back to him, his features were a little sharper now but she could just about see that boy beneath the surface.  “What happened?” she asked, there was no sense asking questions she knew the answer to.

“What could have happened to you.” he told her.  It clicked in Marinette’s mind at that moment, in his own way he wanted to protect her.  Her heart was pounding at the thought, she was so used to shouldering the responsibility of protecting everyone. Yet, here she was getting excited at the thought of someone doing the same for her.  Maybe Ladybug reminded him of the boy in the photograph, brimming with hope that they could make the world just a little brighter.  What happened to him and how it happened was a story for another day.  She felt a comforting hand hovering just over her shoulder, she gently took his hand and held it to her.  They sat there for a long moment, just two people enjoying each other’s company.  “What’s the boy’s name?” she asked as she turned and handed the photograph back to him.  She wiped her tears on her sleeve before smiling at him.

“Jason, Jason Todd, yours?” he asked, giving her that same smile as the boy in the photo. “No one calls me “Jason Peter Todd” unless I am in seriously deep shit”, he joked.

“Marinette, Marinette Dupain-Cheng” she told him, “I’m the guardian of magical items called the Miraculous. It’s my job to keep them out of the wrong hands, for…well now you know why.”

It suddenly made sense to Jason why she leapt into action to save that boy without a second thought.  Not just because she was his neighbour and cared about him, but because that’s just what she did, and has been doing for a long time.  The whole magic thing was still going to take some getting used to, and he had to guess she had many more tricks up her sleeve.  Still, he had to admit they made a pretty good team last night.  She hadn’t been put through quite the same trials and tribulations as him, so who could say if she would end up just like him?  As long as he was around, no one would get that chance.  He stood up, taking his hand off her shoulder and holding it out to help her up.  “Need a ride?” he asked, Marinette smiled brightly up at him before she took his hand.

[reachgirl]

On Buddie and them potentially being aware of their feelings

So we definitely see evidence of how Eddie might feel about Buck, how he clearly loves and trusts him. He absolutely relies on Buck a lot as someone who loves Christopher, as that person you go to who cares about your kid as much as you do. And he clearly doesn’t handle not having Buck around very well during the storyline that must not be named. 

He also looks at Buck like “you’re lucky you’re pretty”, a LOT. And he’s shown to think about Buck’s wellbeing and Buck’s feelings. For a guy who’s not usually great at ~the talking~, he seems to sense that Buck needs to hear him actually *say* things like that he trusts him, out loud. For Buck, someone who’s been told that he’s reckless and impulsive, not diligent, not reliable (and to be fair to Bobby, has been all those things at times, but is desperate to change that view of himself), to be told that he’s trusted - more than anyone else - with someone’s kid? That’s huge. And Eddie knew that he needed to hear that, he also knew that he needed to feel like part of something when Buck was depressed and hanging around at home after the truck bombing. And Eddie was the one who noticed Buck wasn’t around at the station. For Eddie, the fact that they “have each other’s backs” is so important, because, and it’s insane how this is not wishful thinking on the fandom’s part, he actually tells Shannon that she doesn’t have his back. So yeah, absolutely nobody is disputing that Eddie loves Buck.

And I’ve talked about how I believe that Eddie might be bi leaning towards more into men than women (his “not my type” and aunt pepa’s reaction to buck are the foundation for this theory), and his particular combination of upbringing, experience and location really messing with him admitting that to himself (Conservative religious culture, Texas, army, getting married young because of outside expectations). But many of the scenes we get from him could - FROM THE OUTSIDE - very well just show a guy who has a lot of love and respect (and occasionally some fond exasperation) for his best friend. Possibly more, but not in that active, pining way. Not like he’s truly aware of it, yet.

But Buck? He pretty much always looks at Eddie like he’s the best thing that has happened to him, ever, and he can’t believe his luck of getting to be around this man. The smile he constantly gives him, and - in seasons 2 and 3 - only him, is the actual “I want to sleep with you smile” from season 1 Buck. I don’t make the rules.

He constantly finds ways to help him out, reads up on things he knows Eddie is interested in or things that are for some reason something Eddie is dealing with (whether it’s baseball biographies or summer camp brochures), and absolutely always looks to him for approval anytime he does something well or remotely badass. Or even when he makes a joke. It’s almost like 95% of the stuff he does, he does so that Eddie will see.

He sees himself as part of Eddie’s family to the point of not feeling like he’s a guest at their house, he has proven he would actually die for Chris, and he spends much of his free time finding ways of making Chris, the most important person in Eddie’s life, happy. He shares in both the happy and the difficult parts of raising Chris, he gets involved in school problems, and he’s there for Eddie to talk through all the little things that come up when you’re a parent. Often times, with single parents, when the other parent isn’t around, the problem is that there’s nobody else in your life who shares the same love and enthusiasm or worry you have for your child. You could talk about everything relating to them for hours, but even the best meaning friends will at some point reach the limit of how interested they are. Not so with Buck.

But unlike Eddie, Buck is also aware, to a point, of how much he’s focused on Eddie. Where Eddie’s jealousy comes across as more spur-of-the-moment, not something he’s even aware of, Buck seems like.. he’s thought about how he feels about Eddie. Others definitely have. Maddie’s comment about his “man crush” aside, even a random christmas elf (long may she live) comments on it. Hen and Karen immediately agree Buck would invite Eddie, like, Karen knows about this even. Their reaction when Buck is acting irrational over how they might get Eddie out when he’s buried alive and most likely dead already is that reaction of “Oh fuck, this will break this person” that is usually reserved for the significant other or parent. Bobby definitely reacts to Buck in relation to Eddie the way a father would, carefully weighing being amused at how obvious he’s being, and concern over not wanting him to get hurt doing something stupid trying to save Eddie, or by falling for him when it might not be reciprocated. They all know that Buck’s a little (more than) smitten with Eddie. And Buck... of course he’s going to notice how his friends and family react. I think he’s been aware of it for a while and is constantly trying to navigate and balance this. 

Of course he hasn’t told his face about balancing anything at all yet, because look at that man’s face any time he looks at Eddie, look at that scene with the medal. He absolutely can’t help it. And sometimes it’s like he wants them to pick up on it - for example, pushing Maddie on the fact that he doesn’t consider himself a guest. And that’s completely understandable, sometimes you want people to pick up on something and maybe even comment on it (because their reaction reaffirms to you that maybe you’re not crazy) while also not wanting attention on that point. People are complicated like that. And Buck may be a himbo, but he’s complicated AF.

We get Buck being really weird about Eddie and Shannon in general - right off the bat. When Shannon shows up at the station and she and Eddie talk, Buck’s in the background and overhears that they’re sleeping together. He clearly struggles with this information, (and Chim possibly notices..) then he get’s real petty about them potentially getting married again (”Maybe you can get a discount”) - and he nopes out of the situation as quickly as he can - because he doesn’t want to risk saying anything snarky.

Then Chim and Buck go christmas tree shopping, and Chim comments on how Buck can’t let Eddie’s situation with Shannon go, and it’s true, he can’t stop himself. But when Eddie asks him for advice in front of the fountain (/metaphorical water penis as I like to call it), he’s suddenly all “I didn’t think it was my business” ... ok, sure, Buck. Then he basically tells Eddie to try and make it work with Shannon. In terms of character development, in a romance, this is the part where person A wants to be with person B but doesn’t think they have a chance, so makes the choice to try and settle for being their friend, which, heartbreakingly, involves pushing them into the arms of someone else.

Also, his kind of “oversharing” of Eddie’s situation with Ana to the rest of the team is, to me, a pretty clear indicator that the topic makes him uncomfortable and he’s trying a Ross Geller-I’m making Fajitas- “let’s show everyone how very completely normal I feel about this” approach, which.. it doesn’t.. work that well. And when does this ever work, it’s super easy to see through this, and it usually just serves to draw more attention to the fact that you’re uncomfortable with whatever is being discussed.

Buck also takes everything Eddie says to heart. Like, fucking takes it and will not let go of it. Half a season after Eddie tells him that he makes everything about himself, he breaks down telling Maddie he’s worried he’s making the situation with the old firefighter about himself again. During the kitchen scene (or “The actual how-to-guide of what to do when you thought the guy you have a crush on doesn’t reciprocate but then you have a fight and he really doesn’t handle being away from you so well so you kind of might as well see where being a little more openly flirty will get you”), Buck’s clearly thought about Eddie’s words from the grocery store fight, and he’s gonna call Eddie out. And maybe do other stuff.

Looking at what the writers are actually doing, to end the season, there’s the clawing at dirt of it all, Buck falling apart when Eddie’s buried alive. Buck being in almost all of Eddie’s memories when he’s close to dying. And Maddie’s comment about not wanting to set Josh up with Buck, which is innocent enough, but why throw that in on top of all of the above, if not because maybe what we’re actually looking at is that they’re setting up a sexuality crisis for Buck, and him realizing he’s maybe into Eddie, but Eddie not actually reciprocating (yet)? And say Buck is then somehow forcefully pushed to see the truth about how he feels, maybe by, i don’t know, coming across TK and/or Carlos on a call, and one of them asking him how long him and Eddie have been together? We might get Eddie with Ana, and a very long, drawn out process of Buck realizing what’s happening and trying to leave them alone, and Eddie being really confused about why Buck’s being like that. Then we would have two options (well, more, really, but these are two I like): 1) Eddie pushing Buck on that point and demanding an explanation and Buck just coming out with it because fuck it and sorry and please let me see Chris still 2) Buck’s sexuality crisis (or not crisis, if he’s always been pan/bi, which, look, nothing I’ve seen has disproven this theory) leading to him dating a guy and Eddie getting really jealous but not actually being aware of the fact what he feels is jealousy (because he doesn’t realize how he feels about Buck, see this whole essay you just read), and Buck being the one who confronts Eddie about why he’s being such a homophobic asshole about this, and Eddie straight up kissing him because he can’t not anymore.

[gilly-bj]

Why the “Eremika kiss” doesn’t affect Rivamika at all

In the new chapter, we saw for the first time something that we didn’t expect to happen in the manga: a kiss, between Mikasa and (dead)Eren, probably not like we all imagined. This kiss hit everyone hard, also the Eremika shippers, who weren’t very happy with the fact that Eren was already dead when Mikasa kissed him. Eremikas unfortunately weren’t the only ones sad, also lots of Rivamikas had this feeling and, I was one of them.

When the chapter came out and I saw Mikasa kissing Eren, I literally crashed (windows.exe stopped working); my whole body stopped working and the only sensible thought I could elaborate was: “Wait, WTF!”. After I scraped together that quantity of calm that could make me, at least, sit down, I started to write posts that I’ve already eliminated, so don’t look for them because I made them disappear, because my opinions changed radically.

Quick note for you guys from your G: in these cases, don’t write immediately what you’re thinking in that exact moment. I was incredibly frustrated, so the posts I wrote were full of complaints. I didn’t analyzed the kiss from other prospectives, because for me it was only the “eremika kiss”. Remember to wait at least the traduction of the chapter, official or not; you’ll have enough time to reflect on it and elaborate opinions lucidly.

Anyway, in this post I’ll talk about three things:

Eremika’s conversation and Mikasa’s dream

The kiss and why it doesn’t affect Rivamika

Final considerations about RM

The subheadings are written in their own special colour, so if you’re not interested in one of them, it will be easier to find the other.

Let’s start!

• Eremika’s conversation and Mikasa’s dream.

Mikasa has an headache and she wake up in her ideal world, where she lives with Eren in a isolated cabin in the woods. This chapter is from Mikasa’s pov, and note that her perfect image of home is again showed, probably for the last time. I think that Mikasa’s feelings for Eren were kinda obvious, apart from the fact that I never liked or supported them, they are here and we can’t do anything against them.

But I’ve never imagined to see that kind of selfish dream from Mikasa; she is the girl who always cares for everyone, the one who is ready to sacrifice herself for the well-being of her friends, the one who loves them and support them independently from the situation. To be honest, it hurts to see that in her dream, Armin isn’t with them; if there wasn’t Levi, my shipper heart would have hurt but I’d understand, they aren’t so close yet, but Armin, they’ve grown together.

But I’m not mad at Mikasa, each of us has a selfish dream deep inside, where we’d rather sacrifice others to save our special person; it doesn’t mean that we don’t love them, it’s just, if we’d have to choose, we’d prefer to keep safe only him or her. Let me explain better my point with an example: imagine a man who lives in a country at war; he has the possibility to save just two people and he has to choose between his wife and daughter or his parents. He would probably save his wife and daughter, but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love his parents. Choosing between the people we love is the most painful thing in the world, but sometimes we just have to do it, and in Mikasa’s case, she’d choose Eren.

Anyway, before talking about the conversation, I want to analyze a little detail: during her all dream, Mikasa and Eren are in their teen form, why? Well, my interpretation is that Mikasa is still in love with the old Eren and she can’t understand the new one, indeed, one she said: “I’ll bring the old Eren back”. Even if she doesn’t completely understand him, she still loves him, and that’s why I adore Mikasa.

Anyway, let’s analyze better their conversation:

Eren wakes Mika up and he states their situation in that moment, how they ran away leaving the others to their cruel destiny. Now, do we all agree how that doesn’t fit Eren’s character, at all. His most famous line is “Fight if you want to win”, which it shows how brave he is; if he’d run away with Mikasa, he would act like a coward, and he can’t accept cowardice.

And here, Mikasa’s biggest regret: the answer she gave to Eren; remeber when she said: “If only I gave him another answer”, and in her dream she probably did: thanks to Eren’s words, we can assume that Mikasa told him to run away with her, to leave everything, probably what she wanted to answer in the reality. I interpreted that scene from chapter 123 like a Mikasa who couldn’t answer because taken by surprise, and then came up with a thing she didn’t mean who is still harassing her.

Let’s say that the Eren in the previous panels was Mikasa’s idealized version, but then something changes. Look at Eren’s face:

The marks. And why did they appear casually? Because, this is the true Eren, the one they are going to kill, the one who wanted to give his probably last message to Mikasa, and in fact the most important part of the conversation: “Please...Mikasa, forget about me”. At this point, I really don’t understand what the Eremika shippers found romantic in this chapter, the fact that the last thing Eren said to Mikasa is “forget about me” made things clear enough. We can notice that Eren entered her dream by the falcon here, funny that Mikasa is actually flying on Falco right now.

I really started to appreciate Mikasa and Eren’s relationship thanks to this chapter; even if I wasn’t, and I am not, a big fan of the Eremika ship, thinking about their relationship made me a bit sad. Anyway, I love the fact that Eren wanted to tell this to Mikasa, I think he deeply want her to live a life without him, because he’s already understood that they have different life goals, different way of thinking, different natures.

Before skipping to the next point, I noticed that many Rivamika shippers’ve already talked about the similarity between Eren and Levi in some of the panels, I’m not going to dwell because I‘ll write a different post about it, but I wanted to say that it can’t be just a coincidence, Levi and Eren’s haircuts are very different and there’s no way to confuse them. I don’t know why Isayama did this; maybe it’s a foreshadowing, or maybe he just wanted to trol us (it’s always him), I’ll just wait patiently April to see if my assumptions are right 😌

• The kiss and why it doesn’t affect Rivamika at all

Ah this kiss, this damn kiss. Uff, let me sit down and let’s talk about it.

So, Mikasa decides to kill Eren and she enters his mouth thanks to Levi’s help. The first thing she sees is Eren’s head, and I think we should already stop and analyze better this moment.

Look at his expression: he seems kinda... happy and, maybe also proud. Why? Because Mikasa finally decided to do the right thing, she chose Humanity, she sacrificed him, the person she loves the most, for the others. That’s her development. Even if she’ll never forget him, she chose to be selfless over selfish, and I’m glad she decided to remember Eren; it’s awful to forget to ones we loved in the past, we shouldn’t forget them, after all, they made us feel beautiful things, thanks to them we gained fantastic memories, why should we completely remove them from our life? Feelings can change, they will change, and Mikasa will change her romantic feelings towards Eren, it’s simply natural, but asking her to forget him is cruel; Levi won’t forget his dead friends, Armin won’t forget his grandfather, Eren won’t forget his mum, and it’s beautiful this way.

Now, let’s get into the spicy of this post: the kiss. Let me the transform in a love specialist (I’m nobody XD). I really don’t see anything romantic in it. Really, is probably the most tragic and sad among Eremika’s interactions because it shows how Mikasa’s feelings have never been reciprocated; she already tried to kiss him, in season 2, and he “rejected” her (that wasn’t a explicit reject but, if I’m not wrong, he didn’t try the Coordinate before so he didn’t know if it worked, he preferred to risk his life instead of kissing her. Actually, that’s also Eren’s personality), and now, yeah she managed to kiss him, but he was dead, he couldn’t kiss her back, couldn’t say anything, couldn’t reject her. I think that at this point, Mikasa already knew Eren wasn’t in love with her, she isn’t stupid, and she saw that kiss as a way to set herself free completely, to close a chapter of her life.

Another thing: I really don’t understand how can EM shippers say that Eremika is canon just because they kissed, sorry, Mikasa kissed him?? A simple kiss doesn’t make a couple canon, you have to analyze the feelings behind it. Why many of them can’t simply analyze a bit the story? Just, a bit...

• Final considerations and Rivamika

When I saw many Rivamika shippers being so happy about this chapter I really couldn’t understand, like “why are they happy if Mikasa literally kissed Eren?”. Well, at first I was very confused, the posts I read made me feel relieved, but... I wasn’t 100% convinced yet, because I was listening only to what the others said, I didn’t have my own opinion. I could see only the kiss (as a negative thing), and not all the foreshadowings we got in this chapter.

I have a certain theory but I will write a separated post about it, here, let’s discuss why that kiss isn’t a problem for us RM shippers. So, my biggest fear was that Mikasa’d live her all life mourning Eren and wouldn’t open herself to someone new, not necessarily Levi lying. Anyway, like I said before, please don’t stress yourself with rushed considerations, it’s just useless. I think that the kiss acted like as a springboard for Rivamika; like I said before, I interpreted it as a way to set herself free completely, to not have regrets because obviously, it was a thing that Mika wanted to do. Levi’s extreme care for her in this chapter, his determination when he saw that she ready to do this such painful thing made me... fly. They fought together until the end showing for the last time their chemistry and fantastic dynamic. Their interactions in this chapter were really special and I hope that there’ll be more in the future, maybe not only as a team;)

In conclusion, I loved this chapter so much, I can consider it as my favorite because, it gave me chills, for real.

I’ll start to work on my theory so yeah, this post isn’t ended yet lol. Stay tuned because there, I’ll talk only about RM so it will be... maybe more interesting from a shipper’s view. Tell me what you think about this in the comments 💜!

[anncanta]

Free will argument

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing, John Seward

Relationship: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rating: Mature

@alma37 @hopipollahorror @ravenathantum @flutteringphalanges @ladyhaley28​ @dragatha @khyruma​ 

Read on AO3

Or read below

Zoe's voice trailed off in her head, and Agatha went to the window.

Light rain glittered in drops on the bushes and benches of the hospital park, the evening sun peeped through the rare clouds. Slowly Agatha put on her jacket and dialed the number she found in her grand-niece's phone.

‘Jack, get me out of the hospital. I'm discharging myself.’ It sounded confident. The young man on the other end of the line tried to object, but Agatha said: ‘Hurry up,’ – and dropped the call.

They rode in the taxi in silence. They stopped once – at an antique shop. Digging through Zoe's memory, Agatha found this little store in Soho, selling all sorts of unnecessary trifles along with false antiquities and pseudo-magic nonsense.

Climbing out of the car, Agatha returned five minutes later. Leaning over to the open window, she put the bag with aspen stakes on Jack's lap and, going around the car, got back.

She did not know why she was going to Dracula and did not know what kind of reaction she expected from him. And she really had no idea what she was going to do.

‘You don`t look very surprised.’

‘You don`t look very dead.’

‘I`m getting there.’ Agatha walked through the open door and, staggering slightly, sat down at the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack follow her apprehensively. She heard her own voice telling how easy it was to find Dracula's apartment.

When Dracula grabbed the guy by the throat, Agatha woke up abruptly.

‘Let him go,’ she said, feeling the pain rise inside Zoe's body in a hot wave. Why is she here?

‘Why?’ Dracula turned to her with interest.

The pain squeezed her chest and then gone. Agatha swallowed.

‘This is England,’ she said, catching her breath. ‘Conversation preseeds dinner.’

So little time, Agatha thought, looking at how Dracula threw the young man away and, turning to her, leaning with both hands on the table. Almost unconsciously, she mirrored his pose, inside fleetingly noting that she had never been in a more stupid situation.

Except when she died aboard the ship, which she herself blew up, hoping to kill the vampire. Agatha frowned, shaking her head. She needs to concentrate. She thinks about the wrong things.

‘– waiting for someone?’ Jack's voice came to her through the fog in her head.

‘Lucy Westenra.’ The name of the girl Dracula killed brought Agatha back to reality. She raised her head. ‘Do you expect her to rise up and come to you? I have to disappoint you – she was cremated.’

Agatha was surprised by Dracula's reaction. Anger, disbelief, irritation – and a shadow of horror suddenly replaced each other on his face. Did he really feel something for that child, Agatha asked herself distantly. Most likely, however he just…

Dracula's ferocious monologue was interrupted by a sharp ringing at the door. He paused, looking first at Jack, then at Agatha with a victorious smile.

‘You underestimated... hmm... vampires' liveliness,’ with flashing eyes, he said and went to open. He turned around halfway. ‘Dr. Seward. She was your friend, wasn't she?’

Agatha spent the next half hour desperately battling nausea, pain, and fear. The scene with the ill-fated, half-burned Lucy was disgusting, and Agatha almost regretted bringing Jack with her.

It is better for old acquaintances to meet in private.

‘...at least she died well. This is a rare quality, believe me.’

Agatha shuddered.

‘Quality or taste?’ she asked, turning to Dracula.

‘Oh, taste,’ Dracula nodded mockingly. ‘Her taste was unique. I've never seen anything like it before. It was as if she was in love with death.’

‘That`s it!’ Having doused Agatha simultaneously with pain and heat, understanding came. ‘That`s everything.’ She looked at Dracula, frozen in bewilderment. She turned to the tear-stained youth. ‘Jack, go away.’

‘Dr. Helsing, I can't…’ he protested. ‘I will not leave you…’

But Agatha did not listen to him.

‘I need to speak to Count Dracula. It's very personal,’ she said, looking Dracula in the eye. ‘He wouldn’t want anyone else to hear it.’

‘Why not?’ Dracula asked.

‘Because now I know exactly what you fear most,’ Agatha said. She straightened, returning his victorious smile. The pain receded, she suddenly felt at ease.

‘Well, I don’t know,’ Dracula looked at her with childish delight.

‘I know you don’t,’ Agatha replied.

‘Dr. Seward, you may leave,’ Dracula said without turning to Jack.

‘Get out,’ said Agatha.

She glanced at Jack. He looked at her questioningly, as if he expected her to explain everything to him and tell him what the hell was going on here. Agatha sighed slightly.

To tell the truth, she was not sure of anything. Least of all – how what she just realized will help.

‘Today is going to be a beautiful day,’ she said to Jack with her eyes pointing to the curtained window. Deciding that he understood her plan, the guy nodded and left, finally leaving them with Dracula alone.

For some time after his departure, Agatha stood with her head bowed. Pain, faintness, and weakness returned again. I can't do it, she thought.

For just a second, she let go of the expensive tabletop, on which she was leaning so as not to fall, and found herself in the center of some kind of hurricane. She was hugged, held close to Dracula, and he showered her face with kisses. Agatha froze, slightly stunned from all this and from amazement without even trying to escape.

Dracula hugged her with both hands, stroked her head, touched her vertex with his lips.

‘I missed you... I missed you so much,’ he whispered into her hair, laughing.

His lips were unexpectedly warm and soft and he was strong and she was so tired. So confused, so worn out. A stranger in this time, in this place, in this life, and in this body. Pressing her cheek to his shoulder, Agatha briefly allowed herself to just be where she was. She felt good.

Unexpectedly, this thought sobered her.

‘Let me go,’ she said emphatically. He, oddly enough, obeyed instantly. ‘What do you mean – you missed me?’ looking up at him, asked Agatha.

‘That means that I badly wanted to see you.’ He smiled. Agatha frowned in annoyance.

‘You set it up. Zoe... you offered her your blood.’

‘She wanted it herself.’

Agatha flared up.

‘Do not try to confuse me!’

‘It's not that easy to do.’ He took her chin. ‘Agatha,’ he said, looking at her carefully, ‘tell me what you understood about me.’

This simple request uttered without irony and the usual mocking subtext suddenly made all her diligently accumulated anger disappear.

Walking around Dracula, Agatha slowly, overcoming sharp spasms twisting her body, went to the curtained window. She raised her hand and jerked the curtain down.

After waiting for the fuss and screams to subside behind her, she turned around.

‘It`s one hundred and fifty million miles away. What would it do to you?’

Dracula sat on the floor, shielding his hand from the sun, and looked blankly.

Suddenly softening, Agatha walked over. She dropped down next to him.

‘Have you ever thought,’ she asked, ‘why are you the only one of your... kind who is afraid of the sun? Why could Jonathan stand it and why was the girl in your basement not afraid of it? Like the cross, by the way. And Lucy Westenra, by the way, came here before dark.’ Agatha watched his expression slowly change. ‘Why?’

He frowned.

‘I do not know. I thought it was –’

‘Just habits,’ she said. ‘The things which you taught yourself to be afraid many centuries ago, so as not to think about the most important of your fears.’

She turned around, leaning her back wearily on him. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, and in some incredible way, this gave her strength.

‘All your fears lead to one,’ Agatha said, closing her eyes and throwing her head back on his shoulder. ‘Lead to the fear of death. You are a warrior from an old line of warriors, and therefore you hate this fear and are ashamed of it. That's why you came up with all your superstitions and signs.’ Lord, the pain was terrible. Agatha grimaced. ‘Simple as two times two.’

He kissed her again, now somewhere on the cheek or temple. Agatha did not have the strength to resist and argue: Zoe's body was slowly fading away, she every minute waited for the blessed night to fall on her.

Agatha did not remember her last death. Her awakening in the twenty-first century was abrupt and rather awkward. Waking up in a body that she shared with a frightened and lost grandniece, Agatha spent the first few days looking around and trying to understand what was happening and what to do with all this. It was not easy to establish contact with Zoe – she was exhausted and stubborn, overflowing with a sense of guilt. It took three months before her weakened mind was able to listen to something other than itself.

Agatha reproached herself for missing the time. Perhaps she should have been more persistent. Perhaps then young Lucy Westenra would be alive.

It was easy to explain to Zoe why Agatha went to Dracula. Much harder – to explain it to herself. She did not have any means and even physical strength to fight him, and no support, except for a frightened young man, gripped by double grief – because of the loss of his beloved and a friend he was about to lose. Why did she do it?

Because there is free will in the world. Agatha smiled without opening her eyes, remembering how she argued about it there, in the wine cellar, with Dracula. He convinced her that she was looking for violent passions and great adventures, deliberately choosing the dangers – and he believed that she was right in this. Her position, however, rather confirmed his words – even if Agatha did not know what exactly was happening, one thing was obvious: he kidnapped her and kept her with him.

‘What would await you in the monastery, Agatha?’ he said during one of their conversations at chess. ‘Monotonous days, hard work, and prayers to someone you don't even believe in.’

‘I believed in Him thanks to you,’ Agatha answered, and he smiled incomprehensibly and strangely.

Agatha opened her eyes.

‘I lost,’ she said quietly. ‘I lost because I teased the wolves.’

‘I wouldn't jump to conclusions,’ there was a whisper in her ear, and the warm lips moved down to the base of her neck. They played and teased and caressed her until…

‘Will you ever leave me alone?’ Agatha asked, looking up from the chess table in front of her. She opened her mouth again, about to say something harsh, and suddenly realized that the pain was gone. During the three months that Agatha spent in Zoe's body, the pain became so familiar that it was as if, after the even creaky sound that tormented her day and night, there was suddenly quietness.

She looked at Dracula. He sat without saying a word, as the last time, demonstratively clutching a glass of blood in his hand.

‘It's poisoned,’ Agatha said, pointing to the glass.

Dracula was still silent.

‘What do you want?’ Agatha asked almost plaintively. Confusion and fatigue hit her at once. Dracula put the glass on the table, stood up, walked around it, and stopped in front of her.

‘Agatha,’ he said softly. She got up. He smiled. ‘I want to offer you... a choice.’

Agatha frowned. It didn't take a big mind to understand what he meant. Zoe's blood was poisoned, but apparently not enough to kill him. She looked into his eyes.

‘Either I will finish you off, and your death will be quick and easy,’ Dracula spoke her thoughts out loud, ‘or let me convert you.’

The last word made her recoil. Turning away, Agatha walked around the small room several times before remembering that it was impossible to escape from it. Desperately, she looked at Dracula. He stood where he was, not trying to speak to her or stop her. And that moment she clearly realized that he would not force her.

She went up to him again.

‘I have about ten minutes left to live,’ she said softly.

‘That's enough for me,’ Dracula assured her. ‘Although, judging by your blood, you have at least two weeks.’

He was serious. And it was more frightening than all his previous bullying. Agatha ran her hand over her face.

‘You want to make an animal out of me. If only to save me, and you could continue to play with me, you are ready to make me a primitive creature driven by hunger.’

‘I'm glad that you think so highly of me.’ Now in the voice of Dracula, there were familiar, risible notes. ‘But your prejudices prevent you from seeing the essence. At this time, the vampire no longer needs to be a hungry animal,’ he said impatiently. ‘You don’t even have to kill to live. My lawyer delivers blood to me at my first order. Given the required parameters and the talents that I am looking for. Yes, he is quite inventive,’ Dracula smiled in response to the dumbfounded expression on her face. ‘You don’t have to hide, you’ll no longer be an outcast. It would be all the joys of this world before you, including the sun.’ He raised his hand and stroked her cheek. ‘Hate me, if you want, leave me by slamming the door – whatever you want, please. But allow yourself to use this chance.’

Out of place, Agatha imagined what would have happened if she had actually stayed in the monastery. Probably, she would have lived a peaceful life, which would have found its completion in a modest cell on the slope of long fruitless years. She looked at Dracula. He tore her out of that life by the roots, throwing in the face of the self-confident and naive nun the consequences of her own impulsive actions. He killed her, returned her after one hundred and twenty-three years, and offers her... a life without him. Shaking her head, she laughed.

‘Why are you sure that you will succeed?’ she asked without preamble. ‘If I remember correctly, you told Jonathan that most of those whose blood you drink die. How then are you going to?..’

‘Jonathan helped me understand how simple everything is,’ Dracula replied with a smile. ‘And difficult at the same time. Free will, Agatha,’ he said, seeing that she still didn't understand. ‘It's all about free will.’

Agatha frowned, but not because he was now literally quoting what she was thinking.

‘Lucy… you told her something… that in four hundred years she was the first to give you her blood voluntarily. She wanted you. She wanted to stay with you. Like that girl in the basement, probably. But Jonathan,’ Agatha said immediately, ‘Jonathan definitely didn't want that. He begged you to let him go.’

‘He wanted to leave me,’ Dracula agreed. ‘But also – before he died, he swore that he would do everything in his power to stop me. But what could an exhausted, almost drunk dry, sick person do to me?’

Agatha's eyes widened.

‘To fight you, he had to become your equal,’ she said, barely audible. ‘He became a vampire because he wanted to.’

‘Like everyone else,’ Dracula nodded. ‘It's a pity that I realized this so late.’

Agatha just brushed aside another dark joke. Turning away from Dracula, she stared ahead of her for a while.

When she looked at Dracula again, her gaze was direct and open, and she did not need to say a word. He already understood everything.

The next thing Agatha saw was the sun's rays. They shimmered, shone, covered her body from head to toe, spread a sheet of bright light under her. Fascinated by this incredible sight, she did not immediately realize that she was naked and was lying in the arms of a naked Dracula, who touched her shoulder with a kiss.

‘It always seemed to me that the conversion had to be... painful,’ she gasped in amazement.

Dracula smiled, looking up.

‘After all this time, did you think, I`d let it hurt?’

[criminalmindzjunkie]

The Reward of Suffering (Part Six)

previous chapter

Summary: Spencer comes face to face with a ghost from the past.

A/N: Hey... how y’all doin? Long time no see, huh? Sorry about that - hopefully this extra long update will make up for my absence. This has definitely been my favorite part thus far, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you guys enjoy reading it. You guys know the drill by now: SPOILERS for season 12. Also, shoutout to @zhuzhubii​ for posting the absolute best set of gifs right in time for this update - you’re the coolest.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions of death, mentions of rape, mentions of mental illness, kidnapping, choking

Word Count: 10.3k

           With every clack of my heels on the concrete floors, the nervous feeling in my gut grows into full blown nausea. It’s been nearly two months since I last walked these halls, but somehow it feels like a lifetime has passed. Considering everything that transpired in the last forty-eight hours, it makes sense that I feel that way.

           I hadn’t been on the team when Lindsey Vaughn first came into the picture ten years ago, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t familiar. At the time, I thought nothing of the kind neighbor that I sometimes passed in the stairwell on my way to Spencer’s apartment. I mean, why would I? I had no reason to be suspicious. Our interactions never went beyond the usual pleasantries – polite smiles and the occasional greeting – and I never gave her a second thought.

           Maybe if I had, Cassie wouldn’t be dead, and Spencer’s mother wouldn’t be missing.

           I shake my head at the thought. Now isn’t the time to ruminate on what ifs. I would have plenty of time to blame myself when all of this is over. Instead of torturing myself, I focus on trying to steady my breathing as I come to a stop just before I reach the interview room of the Milburn Correctional Facility.

           I know what lies beyond that door, and I’m equal parts excited and worried. Excited, because I’d finally be able to see Spencer after two long months of daydreaming about when I’d finally hold him in my arms again. Of course, it was very possible that Spencer wouldn’t want to see me. After all, I promised to keep his mother safe, and instead of doing that, I let myself get swept up in moving in to my apartment, and now Diana was God knows where.

           I was so sure that he wouldn’t want to see me that I’d initially suggested that Emily be the one to go to the prison and get him. My idea was met with a sad smile and a pat on the shoulder.

           “I think that if it was anyone but you standing there when they open that door, it’d break his heart.”

           Her reassurances did little to assuage my nerves. I spent the entire ride here running over every possible scenario that I could imagine, scrambling to form some kind of game plan. But now that I was here, any semblance of preparedness left me the second the guard reached for the door handle.

           “You ready, ma’am?”

           Yes.

           No.

           I don’t trust my voice, so I settle on nodding my head. The door opens with a groan, rusty hinges creaking in protest, and with shaky legs and a heart that threatens to beat out of my chest, I step into the doorway.

           It’s like the world stops turning on its axis when his eyes meet mine. Those familiar pools of caramel stare back at me with such an intensity that I force myself to look away, petrified at the prospect of seeing disappointment in them. 

           I trail my eyes over his frame, drinking in every inch of him - every bruise and every scrape feeling like a dagger to my heart. My eyes linger on the bandage adorning his left arm, before trailing down to the one on his leg. Emily had warned me about happened, about Spencer injuring himself in order to secure his safety. It was smart of him - that I knew - but that didn’t mean that I wasn’t horrified. 

           His hair has gotten longer, and his curls hang limply around his face. The usually clean-shaven Spencer I once knew was a thing of the past - replaced now by a more disheveled, scruffier version.

           Clean-shaven or not, he still looks just as breathtaking as always. 

           I hesitantly raise my eyes up to his again. He’s staring at me still, mouth parted in shock. He doesn’t look angry, just confused, and that fills me with a tiny sliver of hope.

           “Hi, Spence,” I murmur, voice thick with emotion. It’s not until I speak that I realize I’m crying, and I hastily wipe at my cheeks with my shirtsleeve.

           The dazed look in Spencer’s eyes washes away when he hears my voice and he blinks hard.

           “What… H-How are you…?” he trails off, eyes moving up and down my body.

           It feels so fucking good to hear his voice again, and I find myself unable to hold back a sob.

           “M’ here to take you home,” I choke out.

           It’s like all the tension in Spencer’s body is expelled at once and his shoulders slump in relief. I open my mouth to elaborate, to explain how Emily had managed to pull this off, but I’m stunned into silence when Spencer’s body collides with mine. I hadn’t even had time to process that he was moving before his arms snake around me, tugging me forward until there’s no space in between our bodies. Spencer’s hands collect fistfuls of my shirt, clinging desperately to the fabric as he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck.

           Once I get over the initial shock, I’m hugging him back, arms locked around his torso in a vicelike grip. He doesn’t smell the same – the usual fragrance of cinnamon and vanilla is long gone, replaced with that of some generic detergent – but the way his broad shoulders feel underneath my palms is something so familiar that I can’t help but smile against his chest.

           This is still my Spencer.

           Spencer lets out a shaky breath against my skin and I let out an involuntary shudder at the feeling.

           “Missed you so fucking much,” Spencer whispers. “I-I can’t believe you’re here. Thought I was imagining it.” Spencer takes a shaky breath in, nuzzling further into my neck. His next words are muffled from the way his lips press against my skin, but I’m still able to make out the quiet ‘I’m sorry’.

           “You’re sorry?” I hiccup, eyebrows scrunching up in disbelief. I attempt to pull away so that I can look at him, but Spencer only tightens his grip on me. Something about it makes my chest feel incredibly warm, but I push that feeling aside for now. “I’m the one that’s sorry. I should’ve done more – I should’ve visited more often. I let myself get busy, and if I’d just been more careful, then your m-mom… she wouldn’t be-”

           “Stop that,” Spencer interrupts, and this time he’s the one that pulls away. He holds me at arm’s length and those beautiful brown eyes lock with mine. “This is absolutely not your fault.”

           Spencer’s hands come up to cup either side of my face and his thumbs wipe away at the tears on my cheeks. “You’ve done so much for me – for her. I’m sorry that I took you off the list. Things were getting so bad here, and if something would have happened to you…” Spencer pauses, closing his eyes and leaning down until his forehead rests against mine. “It was never because I didn’t want to see you, I promise. And… And your letter - I can’t even begin to explain how much that helped. I’m sorry that I couldn’t write back. I didn’t know what to say. Especially not after…”

           He doesn’t elaborate, but I’m able to fill in the blanks myself. I bring my hand up and rest it on top of his.

           “S’okay, Spence. I know,” I whisper. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I understand.”

           Spencer hums and a ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

           “Time to get you out of here, Doc.” I remove his hand from my face and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go get your mom back.”

           Spencer opens his eyes and for the first time in two months I’m on the receiving end of my favorite smile in the whole world.

           I lead him from the room, never once removing my hand from his. Now that I have him back, I don’t ever want to let go.

--

           For the second time today, the clacking of my heels against the concrete floor is the only sound that can be heard. Spencer moves silently beside me, his face pulled into a somber expression as we stalk down the long corridor. His hand brushes against mine, and I long to reach out and intertwine our fingers like I had only hours before. I suppress the urge, stealing one last, poorly concealed glance at him before I settle my gaze on the door at the end of the hall.

           In the last several hours, the entire case had been flipped upside down. We’d been wrong all along – Scratch wasn’t to blame for the shit show that had transpired over the last three months. It’d been an easy enough mistake to make. After the incident with Tara’s brother, Scratch was the obvious choice. Pair that with the fact that Spencer had been drugged and we had no reason to suspect anyone else.

           Cat Adams was the last thing on everyone’s mind when Mexico happened. It’d been over a year since Spencer outsmarted her in that restaurant, and she was very much out of sight and out of mind. She was in a maximum-security prison, for fuck’s sake. That alone should have rendered her unable to carry out a scheme this convoluted.

           But apparently that meant nothing, because Cat had somehow managed to be the mastermind behind this whole ordeal, perfectly orchestrating the entire thing from her cell in solitary confinement – using Lindsey Vaugh as her metaphorical puppet on a string. We’d sorely underestimated Cat, and our arrogance had come back to bite us all in the ass.

           A guard that stands at the end of the hall opens the door for us, and I feel an intense rush of foreboding as we step into the room. The sound of the guard closing the door behind us brings a sense of finality to the situation; there is no turning back now. Either we walk out of here knowing Diana’s whereabouts, or we miss the mark completely and loose Diana in the process.

           I cast a worried look at Spencer, whose eyes are trained on the double-sided glass. The tension has returned to his shoulders, and his fists are clenched tightly at his sides. There’s a sort of fiery determination in his eyes – a sort of menacing resolve that I’d never seen in him before.

           Spencer looks intimidating, and nothing like the Spencer that was led from the courtroom three months ago. I pull my eyes away in favor of looking through the glass.

           Reid had been able to see through Cat’s mind games the first time, but the Cat that sat on the other side of that door is a far cry from the one he encountered a year ago. If she’d looked cold and calculating before, she looks downright deranged now.

           “Are you sure you want to go in there alone?” I ask after a moment. “I could-”

           “No,” Spencer cuts me off. His tone is hard and definite, warning me not to argue. “I can’t ask you to do that. Emily shouldn’t have made you come in the first place.”

           “Emily told me to come with you because she knew that there was nothing she could do to make me stay.” I pause long enough to shoot him a weak smile. “Hope you enjoyed your three-month break from me, because I’m going to practically glued to your side from now on. You’ll be dying to get rid of me in a month’s time.”

           Spencer’s lips twitch, threatening to turn up into a smile.

           “I sincerely doubt that.”

           “We’ll see,” I breeze. “But I’m serious, Spence. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here the whole time – I’m not letting you go in there alone, and I’m not going to leave you.”

           “Promise?” Spencer asks, finally pulling his eyes away from the window in favor of looking at me. There’s a sadness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, and the weight of his gaze is so heavy that I worry I might buckle under it.

           I reach for his hand and hook my pinky finger around his, lifting our intertwined hands to eye level.

           “I promise.”

           Spencer’s pinky finger squeezes mine and he closes his eyes.

           “I don’t deserve you.”

           “You deserve the world, Spence.”

           For a moment I think he’s going to say something else, but then Spencer’s lips press into a tight line and he only nods in response. He releases my hand and I let it fall limply at my side. Spencer rolls his shoulders back, and that stony expression returns to his face. He reaches out and pulls open the door, and I follow closely behind him at he steps over the threshold.

           It’s as if I’m invisible; Cat doesn’t even spare me a glance when I enter the room. Her eyes, narrowed and sparkling with amusement, hone in on Spencer immediately.

           “Spencie,” she greets, smiling deviously up at him.

           “Where’s my mother?” Spencer asks, completely devoid of emotion.

           “I missed you.”

           “What did you and Lindsey do to her? How did you-”

           Cat raises a hand, effectively cutting him off. She points a finger at him, and the smile that she previously wore is replaced by a grimace.

           “Now, stop. You don’t get to walk in here and hiss at me like I’m the criminal. No – we’re going to do this my way.” Cat kicks the chair that sits on the opposite side of the table and Spencer reaches out to grab it. “Have a seat.”

           Spencer complies and Cat’s smile returns.

           “How was prison? Did you like it?”

           “No.”

           Cat hums.

           “It’s not fun, is it?”

           “Unlike you, I didn’t deserve to be there,” Spencer retorts.

           Cat leans forward, crossing her arms before resting them on the metal table.

           “How did you stay sane? A brain like yours needs stimulation in such a gray place.”

           “I worked in the laundry room and I played chess.”

           “That’s three, maybe four hours, tops. What about the other twenty?”

           “I read.”

           Cat shakes her head. “That’s still not enough. You have to… go someplace.” She taps the side of her head. “Up here. Or else you go crazy. Do you want to see where I go? I’ll show you.” Cat crooks a finger at Spencer, and I tense at the gesture. The idea of that psychotic bitch getting any closer to him makes my skin crawl. I clench my fists together and the feeling of my nails digging into my palms is enough to ground me.

           Spencer leans forward, mimicking Cat’s relaxed position. She reaches a hand out towards him, and before I can think better of it, I speak up.

           “Hands off,” I warn.

           Cat halts her movements and fixes me with an irritated expression, looking me up and down distastefully before turning her attention back to Spencer.

           “Close your eyes,” she instructs him. Spencer complies. “Good. Now keep them closed. Sit back and relax. When you open your eyes, I want you to look at me like I’m the first woman you’ve seen after being in prison for three months.”

           I clench my jaw at that. Something stirs in my chest – something foreign and possessive that has me bristling. I tense, watching closely as Spencer opens his eyes and smiles that beautiful smile at Cat. My stomach turns painfully at the sight.

           “Hello, Cat,” Spencer greets her, and all the contempt his tone previously held is gone – replaced with a neutrality that bordered on happiness.

           Cat lets out a pleased laugh.

           “You’re here!” she exclaims, throwing her arms out as she gestures about the room. “You’re really here.”

           “There is nowhere else I would rather be,” Spencer replies, sounding startlingly genuine.

           This is all an act, I remind myself. Spencer’s just playing a part. None of this is real.

           Cat crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at him.

           “You’re good at this. You’re so good at this that I almost believe that you don’t want to kill me.”

           “I don’t want to kill you,” Spencer says with a shake of his head.

           “No?”

           “No.”

           Cat narrows her eyes at him.

           “What if I let your mother die?” she inquires. “Then would you kill me? Or would you just…” Cat trails of as she leans forward. “… Hurt me? Would you pin me down and leave bruises that don’t go away?”

           I swallow hard against the bile that threatens to crawl its way up my throat. Spencer might not want to kill her, but I do.

           “Is that what you want?”

           Cat shrugs her shoulders.

           “I guess I just want to know if you would – if you could.”

           Spencer gives a small shake of his head.

           “No.”

           “No?” Cat taunts, cocking her head to the side.

           “It’s not the kind of man I am.”

           Cat’s face drops and her eyes narrow into slits.

           “Do me a favor and tell your little chaperone over there to step aside, because we’re going to play another game. And this time, we’re going to find out exactly what kind of man you are.”

           Spencer’s eyes flit to me and he nods towards the door. I open my mouth to argue, but the pleading look in his eyes has me clamping it shut. It’s okay, his eyes seem to tell me. I know you promised, but I’ll be fine.

Cat waves at me as I reluctantly move towards the door. When the door clicks shut behind me, Spencer takes it as his invitation to continue.

           “Let’s play,” his voice sounds through the speaker to my left.

           “Let’s!” Cat exclaims before resting her head in her hand.

           “So, is it the same game as last time?” Spencer inquires. “I answer every question you ask honestly?”

           “No,” Cat sighs out. “This time you get to ask the questions.”

           Spencer raises an eyebrow at her. “About what?”

           “Well, I know a secret about you. And you can ask me as many questions as you like to figure it out. But you only get one guess as to what it is. If you guess correctly, I take your phone, I call our friend Lindsey, and I tell her to release your dear mother unharmed. If you don’t…” Cat trails off, before mimicking bringing a gun up to her mouth and firing.

           Crazy fucking bitch.

           “Is there a clock?”

           “There’s always a clock.” Cat holds out her hand, eyes flicking down to Spencer’s watch. “Give it to me.”

           I cringe when Spencer hesitates – I know what he must be thinking. That’s Gideon’s watch. The only thing he has left of him. I’d never seen Spencer without it in the two years I’ve known him.

           Spencer reluctantly slips the watch off of his wrist and hands it over.

           Cat smirks and slides the watch onto her arm.

           “Now, you’ll have four hours.”

           “Do you want to give me a hint before we start?”

           Cat chuckles. “Do I look like a girl that gives hints?”            “Actually, you do.”

           Cat takes pause, looking Spencer up and down before speaking.

           “Okay, how about this; it’s a secret you’ll never admit to.”

--

           “I know what the secret is.”

           Cat quirks an eyebrow up at Spencer.

           “You do?”

           He nods. “Why else would you put me through all this?”

           “Ooh, phrasing it in the form of a question that way it doesn’t count as a guess. Very smart, Doctor.”

           “I’m gonna walk you through a scenario, and your face is going to tell me how close I am,” Spencer murmurs, an amused smile on his lips. He leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. “From the moment I arrested you, you watched and waited for the right time to take your revenge. When you learned I was going to Mexico, you took it. You and Lindsey framed me for murder so I’d be put in a prison and treated like a criminal, and then you kidnapped my mother so I would know how it feels to have a parent manipulated, because you want to prove that you and I are the same. Am I right?”

           Cat feigns a yawn in response.

           “Mm. Sorry, I couldn’t hold that in any longer. What were you saying?”

           “Psychopaths tend to get bored easily.”

           “You’re right. Let’s speed this up,” Cat sighs with a roll of her eyes. She pushes away from the table, standing up and walking over to Spencer’s side of the table. I fight the urge to barge in when I see her take a seat on his lap. Cat runs a hand down Spencer’s chest before she continues. “Shall we? What do you think about all the pain you’ve suffered in your life? What would I capitalize on, do you think? Is it… the death of your mentor, SSA Jason Gideon?”

           I can see the way Spencer’s jaw clenches and it makes my heart lurch painfully in my chest.

           “No, because we caught the man who killed him.”

           “What about Agent Morgan and your guilt over not visiting his little boy?” Cat whispers in his ear as her hands fiddle with the collar of his suit.

           “I was in prison.”

           “Yeah, but you had time before that. Why didn’t you go?” she presses as she grazes her nails down the length of his throat. I see red when her hand loosely circles around his neck. Spencer absolutely loathes being touched by anyone other than those closest to him, and I’ve no doubt that he’s horribly uncomfortable.

           “Truthfully, I got distracted. I was trying to figure out a way to help my mom. She didn’t have time. Morgan, Savannah, and little Bobby did. So, there’s absolutely no shame in admitting that. Morgan would understand.”

           “I agree. That’s why that’s not the secret,” Cat divulges, brushing her nose against the side of his face before pulling away and standing up. I let out the breath that I’d apparently been holding and allow myself a moment to run a shaky hand through my hair. If I was getting this frazzled from being a bystander to this conversation, I can only imagine how Spencer must be feeling.

           When I look back up at the mirror, Spencer’s looking over his shoulder at me through the glass. I know he can’t see me, but I can’t help but feel guilty for losing my cool.

           “Good job, Spence,” I murmur to myself as I pull out my phone. After a few rings, Rossie answers.

           “Go ahead, Y/N. You’re on speaker.”

           “Cat has an extremely deep background on Spencer. She knows about everything – Gideon’s death, Derek leaving the team, his mom’s condition,” I inform them, tapping my foot nervously against the concrete.

           “She’s throwing him off-balance.”

           “Yes, but Spencer also purposefully gave the wrong name of Derek’s son and she didn’t correct him,” I point out.

           “She must’ve gotten her hands on Reid’s confidential FBI file,” Emily chimes in. “It would mention pertinent team information but it wouldn’t name Morgan’s son for confidentiality reasons.”

           “We were thinking she’s been getting help from someone inside the prison. This goes deeper than that,” Rossi sighs.

           “Call us if she says anything else of any importance,” Emily signs off. I mumble a quick goodbye before pocketing my phone and turning my attention back to the window.

           “Working deductively, the secret wouldn’t be any of the topics you’ve already volunteered, because you wouldn’t want to make it easy on me,” Spencer reasons. He clasps his hands together and sits back in his seat before raising an eyebrow in challenge.

           “Genius, truly,” Cat taunts sarcastically as she twirls the watch around her finger.

           “So, what is left that I wouldn’t want to admit?” Spencer muses, eyebrows drawn together in contemplation. Cat shrugs her shoulders at him and another moment of tense silence passes.

           “Love,” Spencer utters, and Cat’s incessant twirling of the watch comes to an abrupt halt.

           Got her.

           “Is that what this is all about – love? For my mother?” Spencer whispers, and when Cat fails to respond, he shakes his head. “No, not for her. For you. You want me to admit that I’m actually in love with you.”

           Cat purses her lips together.

           “Don’t get me wrong – I love my fairy tales as much as the next girl – but I’m not delusional,” Cat says as she crosses her arms.

           “Are you sure about that?”

           “Very sure. So sure, in fact, that I had Lindsey leave a clue for you in that little scrapbook in your apartment.”

           I scrunch my face up at that. The clue in question had been a message inscribed on the back of an old photograph;xx-xy. We’d originally deduced that the message, the female and male chromosomes, was to confirm that Lindsey was working with Scratch. But now? Now I didn’t have a clue what Cat was talking about.

           “I couldn’t have you come all the way down here and make a guess until I was positive. That is…” Cat pauses for dramatic effect, a sly smile on her lips. “… until I tested positive.” Cat punctuates her words by placing both hands on her stomach, and the action makes me raise a hand up to my mouth in shock.

           No. There’s no fucking way.

           “What, you’re pregnant?” Spencer asks, confused.

           “No, we’re pregnant.”

           I feel my knees buckle upon hearing the admission and I blindly reach for the chair to my left.

           This cannot be happening.

           “No,” Spencer says, shaking his head adamantly.

           “Oh, yes,” Cat replies. “Mazel tov.”

--

           “Here you are, ma’am.”

           I reach for the file, my movements stilted and awkward.

           “Thank you,” I mumble to the guard, who gives me a peculiar look before leaving the room. I waste no time in flipping through the file, heart pounding wildly in my chest as my eyes skim over the page until –

           Positive.

           I slam the file down on the table.

           “Fuck!” I yell out in frustration. I’m thankful then for the thick, concrete walls, because neither Spencer nor Cat show any sign of having heard my little outburst. I place both palms down on the cool metal of the table, my breaths coming out in haggard puffs as I try to rationalize it all.

           “- not possible,” Spencer’s voice coming through the speaker snaps me out of my thoughts. I cut my eyes to the window to find Spencer pacing the room. “Even if you are pregnant, the baby’s not mine.” Spencer comes to a stop behind his chair and shoves his hands in his pockets.

           “Except for the part where it is.”

           “That’s completely preposterous. You’ve been in prison,” Spencer points out as he once again takes a seat across from her.

           “So have you.”

           “And we’ve never-”

           “I know. We’ve never…” Cat trails off with a suggestive waggle of her brows. “Ask me how I did it. Come on, ask me.”

           Spencer rolls his eyes, but he indulges her nonetheless.

           “How did you do it?”

           “I had Lindsey dose you in Mexico. You lost time. And I gave her very specific instruction on how to get you in the mood,” Cat admits.

           “What?” Spencer snorts cynically. “Did she pretend to be you?”

           “Why, would that have worked?”

           Spencer leans forward and shoots Cat a cruel kind of smile.

           “No.”

           For a split second Cat’s face falls, but only for a moment and then she goes right back to smiling that wretched grin.

           “Yeah, I know, I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid hot or not list,” Cat sighs. “So, ask me again.”

           “How did you do it?”

           “I told her to pretend to be Y/N.”

           For a second I think that I misheard her – the blood rushing in my ears almost overpowered her admission – but the way Spencer’s entire body tenses before he looks back at the window tells me that I didn’t.

           Why me?

           Spencer gulps hard before he turns back around. I find my way to the chair nearest me and collapse into it.

           “How do you know about her?”

            Cat gives him an unimpressed look.

           “It wasn’t hard, seeing as she’s your very best friend in the whole wide world,” Cat teases as her eyes wander from Spencer to the glass behind him. She waves at me, endlessly amused, before turning her attention back to Spencer. “But that isn’t all that she is to you – is it Spencie? At least, Lindsey didn’t think so. At first, she thought the two of you were tangled up in some kind of sexy little tryst. But then I had Lindsey do a little digging, and, well, that’s when we found out about the boyfriend.”

           “Stop.”

           “Oh, it seems I’ve struck a nerve!” Cat trills gleefully. “Shall we call her in here to join us? I know she’s just on the other side of that glass. I’m sure she’d love to hear all about how pathetic little Spencer Reid pines after her like a school boy with a crush.” She pouts her bottom lip out in mock sadness. “There’s just something about unrequited love that really tugs at my heart strings.”

           Oh.

           For the second time since arriving here, my hand comes up to cover my mouth as I struggle to process Cat’s words. She can’t be right, can she? Spencer had never done anything that eluded to him seeing me as any more than a best friend. Perhaps she got it wrong. Lindsey saw me come and go and she just assumed it was something that it wasn’t. There was no way that Spencer -

           “I said stop.”

           The underlying plea in his voice is enough to make tears well in my eyes. If what Cat is saying is true, that means that Lindsey . . . 

           “All it took was Lindsey saying she was Y/N for you to crumble like a house of cards. You really made it too easy.”

           “You’re lying.”

           Cat chuckles. “Listen to you, you’re not even trying to deny it.”

           “It didn’t happen,” Spencer argues, voice so quiet that I have to strain to hear it.

           “Hey, I was thinking, if it’s a boy, we should definitely call him Spencie Jr.”

           Spencer pushes back from the table so abruptly that both Cat and I flinch, and he’s almost out the door when Cat delivers one final dig.

           “-But if it’s a girl, I think we should call her Y/N. I mean after all; she played such a huge role in in her own conception!”

           The sound of the door slamming behind him as he trudges into the room is enough to make me bolt up from my seat. Spencer comes to a stop at the center of the room, eyes wide and full of remorse as he looks over at me.

           “I-I… I’m…”

           I try my best to muster up a smile but I worry that it comes out more as a grimace.

           “Later,” I murmur, and Spencer winces before nodding his head in defeat. I walk over to the table and open up the file. “She’s not lying about being pregnant.”

           Spencer joins me at the table, eyes skimming over the document.

           “She’s three months, and the timeline matches, but that doesn’t mean-”

           Spencer yanks the file off the table and hurls it at the window, shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

           I take a step back and Spencer curses under his breath.

           “I’m sorry. It’s not you,” he sighs. “I just… need a minute.”

           I press my lips together and nod.

           “Take all the time you need. M’gonna go call Emily,” I murmur.

           Spencer closes his eyes and lets his head hang low.

           “Yeah, okay,” he whispers dejectedly, and the despair in his voice is enough to stop me in my tracks.

           “Spence?” I call out. He looks up at me from underneath his lashes, more than a little bit timid and scared. “I’ll be right back, okay? I’m not leaving you.”

            I open the door and step out of the room, but it doesn’t close before I hear the quiet ‘thank you’ drift from within.  

--

           Spencer waits until the door clicks shut behind her to push away from the table and head back into the interrogation room. He couldn’t bear the thought of her overhearing any more than she already had. As far as Spencer was concerned, Cat had just singlehandedly ruined the one good thing he had going for him, and at this point, he had nothing left to lose.

           “Let’s pretend you’re telling the truth,” Spencer starts. “That means I guessed it, right? The secret, the one I don’t want to admit to? It’s my child?”

           Cat looks up at him with bored eyes and Spencer feels his unease begin to give way to rage.

           “Is that your guess?” Cat asks. “You only get one, remember?”

           Spencer takes pause, before shaking his head.

           “No. It’s too easy,” he decides.

           “Believe me, getting pregnant with your baby was not easy,” Cat mutters, and Spencer’s lips press into a tight line. The implication of it is enough to make his skin crawl. He feels violated and absolutely disgusted, but still he tries to school his impression into one of indifference. Spencer thinks about his mom, scared and confused, and that’s enough incentive to make him focus on the task at hand.

           “You misunderstand. It’s too easy emotionally,” Spencer explains in a clipped tone as he sits down. “Because I can take your child from you. The child I had absolutely no role in creating, but a child that I would care for better than you.”

           “That’s rude,” Cat seethes as she slowly lifts her head from off of the table.

           “It’s true. You can’t be a mother, Cat. I’m not trying to insult you – it’s your psychological makeup. You literally do not have the emotional skills to care for another human being. You’d lose interest in your own baby the way a six-year-old loses interest in a pet hamster. This baby is simply a means to an end, which is to keep me here and playing your game, guessing like a fool and assuming something that I never should have assumed in the first place.”

           “And what would that be?”

           “My mother’s already dead,” Spencer says, and the words taste positively foul in his mouth. “She was dead before I walked in here”

           Cat’s lips pull into a frown.

           “She’s not dead-”

           “Yes, she is,” Spencer reiterates as he rises from his chair.

           “No, because that would be cheating and I don’t cheat. You cheat!” Cat panics, voice growing louder the closer Spencer gets to the door.

           “I’m done playing,” Spencer says as he turns away, reaching for the door knob.

           “Get back here!”

           Spencer pulls the door open. “Goodbye, Cat.”

           He has one foot out the door when;

           “I’ll let you talk to her!” Cat yells out as she slams her fist down on the table.

           Spencer lifts his eyes up from their spot on the floor, and it’s with a jolt of surprise that his eyes meet Y/N’s. It feels to him like it always does when he sees her – like some great relief that floods through his entire body in an instant. He feels guilty for it, now that she knows, but that doesn’t stop him from basking in it. The feeling grows when a triumphant smile graces her lips, one that says you’ve got her, Spence. You’ve got her right where you want her.

           Spencer is positively rejuvenated by that smile.

           He reluctantly pulls his gaze away from her and focuses back on Cat. He’s come too far now to fuck it all up.

           Spencer pulls his phone from the depths of his suit pocket and hands it to Cat. He watches on as she dials the number, and his heart beats so fast that he wonders if she can hear it. The sound of the dial tone ringing fills the room, and Spencer can only hope that the call will be long enough for Penelope to trace.

           “You’re early,” a voice that’s unmistakably Lindsey’s calls out. Spencer lets out a shaky breath of relief.

           “Yeah, I know.”

           “Did he guess?”

           “No, not yet,” Cat sighs. “We need proof of life.”

           “All right, hold on,” Lindsey says, exasperated, and her words are followed by several seconds of muffled rustling and what Spencer deems as some sort of liquid being poured.

           “Spencer!”

           His heart practically bursts out of his chest as he lunges forward, yanking the phone out of Cat’s hand and bringing it up to his ear.

           “Mom - mom, are you okay?”

           “I don’t… know-”

           Spencer opens his mouth to reply when the gut-wrenching sound of an explosion rips through the tiny phone speakers, distorted and so loud that it makes Spencer’s ears ring.

           “Mom!” Spencer desperately yells into the phone, but all he gets in reply is a ‘gotta go’ from Lindsey before the line goes dead. Spencer growls out a string of swears, throwing his phone down on the table before leaning over the table.

           “What the hell was that?” he yells, and he’s vaguely aware of the sound of the door opening, but he can’t focus on anything other than his own rising panic.

           “I don’t know,” Cat replies, opening her mouth to continue but Spencer cuts her off.

           “Lindsey said you were early. Was that a signal?” he bellows.

           “Spence, come on,” Y/N tries to interject. Spencer feels her hand on his shoulder but he shrugs it off before bringing his fist down on the table.

           “Was that a prearranged signal to kill my mother?!” Spencer snarls, eyes wide and teeth barred. He feels positively feral, images of his mother in all sorts of terrible states of distress flashing through his mind like some grotesque picture show. “Tell me the truth!”

           “No! I am!” Cat shouts back.

           “Tell me the truth!”

           “I am!” Cat spits out, eyes flashing angrily. “You wanna know the truth? Your mother is an Alzheimer’s-ridden moron who’s getting dumber by the day and if she’s dead, it’s your fault!”

           Something comes over Spencer then, and in an instant, he’s shoving the table out of the way and pushing Cat against the wall. His hands find purchase on her throat, not dissimilar to how hers had on his hours before, but instead of dragging his fingers against her neck, Spencer’s clamping down on it as hard as he can, taking great pleasure in the way she gasps for air as his hands tighten. Everything around him fades away until all that he can focus on is that way that her pulse feels under his hands – the way it starts off strong, before tapering, slower and slower until he can barely even palpate it anymore.

           “I’m going to kill you,” Spencer hears himself whisper as he presses down hard on her windpipe. “M’gonna fucking kill you.”

           Cat’s eyes are fluttering closed now, and Spencer shouldn’t enjoy the way the light in her eyes starts to dim. He shouldn’t but he does – in fact, it prompts him to press harder and harder and –

           A harsh yank pulls Spencer away from Cat, and as soon as his hands begin to loosen Cat splutters in an attempt to catch her breath.

           “Spencer, she is pregnant,” Y/N yells in his ear, and just like that his tunnel vison fades away and Spencer feels the adrenaline leave his body. He only realizes that his hands are still on Cat’s throat when Y/N yanks at his arms again. “Fucking let her go, Spencer!”

           His entire body goes limp and he allows himself to be drug away from Cat and out of the room. Spencer’s heart still pounds and his blood is still roaring in his ears, but the satisfaction has given away to shame. He steals a glance at cat as he’s being pulled from the room, and despite her ruffled appearance, she’s grinning at him – smiling as if to say see? I told you that you were just like me.

           Spencer stumbles into the other room, steadying himself on the wall to keep from faceplanting onto the cold hard floor. Now that the adrenaline has expelled itself from his body, he’s left shaky and panting and ashamed.

           The feeling of Y/N’s eyes on him as he braces himself on the wall only exacerbates his mortification. What will she think of me now? Will she think me to be some kind of monster? Spencer wouldn’t blame her - he’s held that same opinion of himself for months now.

           Spencer stands there, face turned downwards as he catches his breath, and when he can take the weight of her gaze no longer, he darts out of the room and down the corridor.

           Being alone is preferable to being a disappointment, Spencer thinks as he flees the room.

--

           It doesn’t take long for her to find him sitting in the floor, knees to his chest with his face downturned. Spencer hears her before he sees her, and he prepares himself for the yelling that’s surely to come.

           She surprises him when she slides her back down the wall until she’s sitting beside him, legs sprawled out in front of her. He doesn’t look up – fearful of what he might see when he looks into those beautiful eyes of hers. There had been love there, before all of this happened. Not the kind of love that was reflected in his own, but it was love just the same and Spencer thinks that it might kill him to see that love replaced with disgust. So he doesn’t look. Instead, Spencer just sits there, slumped over and pathetic, hoping that she doesn’t pick up on the fact that his hands are shaking.

           “Richmond County police just reported a gas station explosion. One victim – male. Whatever Lindsey did, we have to assume that your mom’s still alive,” Y/N murmurs. Spencer lets out a shaky breath and his grip on his knees tightens. It’s good news, and he’s grateful, but it does nothing for the overwhelming guilt that’s eating away at him.

           “Hey,” she whispers when he doesn’t reply. “Can you look at me, Spence? Wanna see those pretty brown eyes. Please?”

           Spencer chokes down the sob that threatens to come out. He shakes his head. 

           “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened in there. That… That’s not me. At least, I don’t want it to be,” Spencer whispers. “Emily should’ve sent someone else with me. I never wanted you to see me like that.”

           Her small, incredibly soft hand comes to rest on his own and Spencer closes his eyes at the feeling. Y/N flips his hand over and intertwines their fingers and Spencer can’t help but think that’s she’s showing him way more kindness than he could ever deserve. But he’s selfish, unable to deny himself of the feeling of her hand in his, so he clings onto her hand for dear life.

           “I’m so scared that this is who I am now,” Spencer mumbles, prompting her grip on his hand to tighten.

           “No, Spence. Don’t say that,” she chastises him. “You’re the best guy I know. Everyone has a breaking point – Cat just knows how to bring you to yours, is all.”

           “You… You don’t know…” Spencer trails off, still unwilling to look her in the eye.

           “I do know, Spence. I may not have been able to visit, but I asked about you every day,” she says as she shuffles closer to him. Spencer can smell her perfume now, subtle and sweet and comforting. “I know that two inmates, Frazier and Duerson, killed your friend in front of you. I know that they wanted you to move heroin for them, and I also know that if you didn’t, you would’ve been next. Anyone in your spot would’ve done the same.”

           “You wouldn’t have.”

           “Hell yes, I would have,” Y/N persists, and Spencer can’t help but to look up at her from behind where his unruly curls fall into his face. “I would have, Spence. If someone was threatening my life, you bet your ass I would have done the same thing. It doesn’t make you a bad person – doing whatever it takes to survive does not make you a bad person.”

           She must pick up on the hesitancy that lingers in Spencer’s eyes, because she decides to continue.

           “You know who does think like that? That – that in you doing what you had to do in order to survive somehow makes you a psychopath?” Y/N pauses long enough to point her thumb towards the direction of the interview room. “She does.”

           Spencer watches the realization wash over her face, and for a split second he’s terribly confused. It isn’t until a ghost of a smile pulls at her lips that he catches on, and when he does, he has to stop himself from doing something terribly stupid like kissing her.

           “She does,” Y/N reiterates when she sees that Spencer finally caught on. “Because she knows.”

           “That’s the secret,” Spencer thinks aloud. He pushes himself to his feet and begins to pace down the corridor. “The one that I don’t want to admit about myself.”

           “Hold up, Spence. Let’s talk through this, because she will not lose to you twice. She already said that this wasn’t about the two of you being the same.”

           Spencer scratches the back of his next, nodding to himself.

           “Then she’s all about the game. She thinks that I cheated the last time because I lied about her dad, so it’s integral that she beats me by following the rules.”

           “But, Spence, she’s the one that makes the rules. She can change them to ensure that she wins.”

           “-Which means that I’m locked in-”

           “Like she is.”

           “She needs me locked in, playing by her rules, a game I can’t win, so she-” Spencer pauses then, and an actual, honest to God smile creeps its way across his face – the kind of smile that was only reserved for Y/N. “I got it.”

           Spencer doesn’t elaborate, because he doesn’t need to. He can tell with one look that she understands, because somehow, she always does. Spencer offers her a hand and hoists her to her feet. 

          Spencer almost laughs as the two of them step back into the room. Of course, she would be the one to figure it out. It seems like she’s always saving him, these days.

--

           “Guess that’s one way to get you to put your hands on me.”

           Spencer feels a twinge of guilt, but he pushes it to the back of his mind as he holds a hand out to Cat.

           “Dance with me.”

           Cat lifts an eyebrow at him.

           “Why?”

           “Because I don’t want the people watching to hear what I’m about to say.”

           Cat is still suspicious, but she takes his hand and lets him pull her to her feet anyways. Spencer puts his arms around her and the two of them begin to sway back and forth. Spencer suppresses the urge to pull away when her hand lowers and intertwines with his own. It’s rough and calloused and cold – a direct contradiction of Y/N’s – and Spencer positively loathes it.

           “You had eyes on me while I was in prison, didn’t you?”

           “Spencie, don’t ruin the moment,” Cat groans.

           “I don’t want to, but I’m on the clock. Answer my question, am I right?”            Cat places her head on Spencer’s chest, her hair smelling of some generic bar of soap, and Spencer wishes more than anything that he was smelling the familiar notes of honeysuckle and vanilla instead.

           “Yes, you’re right. I wanted to make sure things were just as uncomfortable for you as they were for me.”

           “That’s how you timed everything so perfectly. Like sending my mom and Lindsey to visit me when I thought I was at my lowest.”

           This piques Cat’s interest and she lifts her head up until her eyes meet Spencer’s.

           “Thought? You’re sure you weren’t?”

           “No, I wasn’t. Because I didn’t feel bad – I felt scared at how much I enjoyed poisoning the other prisoners. I had a hundred ways of getting myself out of that situation, and I picked the one that would cause them the most pain.”

           “Well, look at that,” Cat hums. “You might end up saving your mother’s life after all.”

           A moment of silence passes as Spencer contemplates his next move. Before he can get the words out, Cat breaks the silence.

           “They won’t get there in time. They must be on their way, right? Your team is too good to wait around, but you know me. I always have a contingency plan,” Cat murmurs, hands dipping under Reid’s suit jacket. She rubs her palms across his chest in slow circles and Spencer tries hard not to squirm. “They’re walking into a trap, and the only way out is if you give me your phone and you guess – right now.”

           Cat removes her hands from Spencer’s chest, crossing her arms and fixing him with a pointed look. Spencer reaches down and pulls the phone from his pocket, passing it to Cat who wastes no time in taking a seat at the table once more.

           Spencer’s skin tingles, half from anticipation, half from fear. They’ve come too far for him to misstep. He thinks of his mother – of how the next two minutes will determine her fate, and Spencer clenches his hands into fists at his sides.

           Here comes the moment of truth.

           “When we first sat down, you said you were going to show me what kind of man I am. And you have.”

           “Every time I dial a number, you’re getting warmer.”

           “At first, I was furious, because the secret had to be the baby inside you. How could it be anything else? But then I realized that somehow, you knew I liked hurting those men.” Cat dials another number, prompting Spencer to continue. “Now, I know it’s both things.”

           “So, which is it, Spencie? Come on, don’t fumble it now. You’re at the one-yard line.”

           “You’re not pregnant with my child. You got pregnant with Wilkins to put me in as compromised a position as possible. But it should be mine – I wish it were mine. Because you and I… we deserve each other. That is the real secret.”

           By the time Spencer finishes speaking, tears are steady falling down Cat’s cheeks. With a shaky hand she presses the call button, and Spencer watches on with bated breath as the phone rings.

           “Kill her.”

          When Cat receives no reply, she pushes out of her seat and begins to pace around the room. “Lindsey, I said kill her.”

           “You bitch,” Lindsey curses, sounding positively heartbroken in the way only a jilted loved could. “You’re pregnant?”

            “Lindsey, sweetheart, it’s complicated, okay?”

           “No, it’s not,” Lindsey whispers, and then the sound of the dial tone is all that’s left.

           Not a second later, Y/N bursts through the door; the figurative light at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

           “We’re clear.”

           Spencer snatches his phone from Cat’s hand before turning to face Y/N.

           “Is my mom okay?”

           “Yeah. She’s fine.”

           “We do deserve each other, by the way,” Cat calls out, prompting Spencer to pivot and face her. She slides back into the seat and shrugs her shoulders. “You guessed right.”

           Spencer falters for a moment, but then a voice in his head is reminding him that he deserves the world. And that voice sounds a lot like Y/N.

           “You lied, by the way. You were going to kill my mother regardless.”

          “Yeah, I think you really liked hurting those men. Once you cross that line, you can’t ever go back. And you’ll never get her to love you, either. You and I are too fucked up to be loved.”

           Spencer takes two steps forward before he bends down, reaching out and clutching Cat’s forearm in a tight grip. Without breaking eye contact, he slides his watch off her wrist and back on to his own.

           “Watch me,” Spencer whispers, and without so much as a parting glance at the broken women sitting at the table, Spencer walks towards the light.

--

           The elevator ride up to the bullpen is a quiet one, not unlike the jet ride before it. I had about a million questions that I was dying to ask, but I thought it best to let Spencer stew in silence. The poor guy had been through enough in the last twenty-four hours – he didn’t need me hounding him on top of all of that. Besides, I wasn’t entirely sure where to start in the first place.

           So, Spence – how was prison?

           I heard you got the shit kicked out of you. How interesting, so did I! Wanna trade war stories?

           I hate to put you on the spot like this, but was that little tidbit about you being hopelessly in love with me true? Just curious.

           As wonderful as all of those conversation starters were, I didn’t really think that now was the time to breech any of the aforementioned subjects. So, instead, Spencer and I communicated in stolen glances and shy smiles, and that more than sufficed for the time being. We had all the time in the world to talk later - there was no need to rush.

           I can practically feel Spencer shaking with anticipation when the elevator ride comes to a close, and the two of us share one last, longing glance before the doors open and Spencer steps out and into the arms of his mother.

           There’s not a dry eye in the house when Spencer and his mother reunite, and it takes Emily ushering us all away to keep us all from devolving into sniveling messes right in front of the elevator. We all scatter about the bullpen, and after a quick trip to the bathroom I meander to Emily’s office.

           “Derek Morgan – you are a sight for sore eyes,” I whistle as I walk into the room, not stopping until I’m pressed up against two-hundred pounds of rock-hard abs.

           “Ah, little bit. I sure have missed you,” Derek laughs as he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

           “To what do we owe the pleasure? I’d be hard pressed to believe that you just decided to drop in at three o’clock in the morning.”

           Derek lets out a sigh and the smile drops from his face.

           “I wish I was just here to say hello, but we may have bigger problems. I got a text from Penelope saying that Reid was out of prison and that he wanted to see me. And that he was staying in an FBI safehouse where he was putting his mother up for the night.”

           I cast a glance at Emily, who shakes her head.

           “I didn’t approve of that,” she explains, and just like that, a weary feeling settles over everyone in the room.

           “I think we all know what this sounds like,” Derek says.

           “A trap.”

--

           “I know we’re all tired, but we may have a new lead on Scratch.”

           “Somebody did a bang-up job of cloning my cellphone to send Morgan a text luring him to a nonexistent safehouse. And whoever that somebody is has mad skills,” Penelope explains.

           “The kind of skills Scratch has,” Stephen mutters, earning a round of murmured agreeances.

           “Were you able to trace where the hack came from?” Luke inquires, earning an affronted glare from Penelope. She shakes her head at him before turning to Derek, who’s watching on with a shit-eating grin on his face.

           “Do you see what I have to put up with?”

           Derek chuckles and gives Luke a pointed look.

           “Alvez, you’ll always get a location with this one.” Derek reaches forward and rubs Penelope’s shoulder, and it’s impossible to miss the way Luke’s eyes zero in on it.

           “Down boy,” I whisper at him. “Green isn’t your color.”

           “Shut up.”

           I roll my eyes good-naturedly before turning my attention back to Emily.

           “Obviously, Morgan can’t come with us. He’s a civilian now.”

           “We’ll miss you out there,” JJ chimes in.

           “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it out there in the field with you guys. I think about it every day. But between my old friends and my new friends, you guys are gonna go out there, you’re gonna handle your business, you’re gonna make people feel safe, and then you’re gonna go home. And that’s all that matters.”

           “Civilian life has turned you into a sap,” I tease.

           “Is it just me, or has this one gotten mouthier since I left?”

           Penelope pats him on the arm.

           “Someone had to fill the silence.”

           After everyone has the opportunity to tell Derek their goodbyes, it’s a mad dash to get everything we need to roll out. I pull my hair into a ponytail and shuck off my blazer, only to replace it with my Kevlar. I’m in the middle of securing the last strap as I hurry down the hall when I come in harsh contact with the front of someone’s chest.

           But it’s not just someone – it’s Spencer.

           “I thought you left already?”

           Spencer lets out a strained chuckle.

           “Uh, yeah. I was on the way out when Penelope texted and said Derek was here. Mom’s sitting with Anderson while I go talk to him.”

           I nod in understanding.

           “Good ole Anderson,” I manage to say, trying hard not to cringe at my awkward choice of words.

           “Yeah,” Spencer mutters, shuffling his feet as he looks anywhere other than my face. “There’s a case, I’m assuming?” he says, gesturing to my vest.

           “We think we have a lead on Scratch, actually.”

           Now, that gets Spencer’s attention. His eyes finally settle on me, and his brows furrow.

           “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I need to go with you-” Spencer makes a move to brush past me, put I stop him with a hand on his chest.

           “Back it up, Spence. There’s absolutely no way Prentiss will sign off on that, and even if she did, I’m still saying no.”

           “And I’m supposed to listen to you?” Spencer tries to keep his face neutral, but his lips twitch as he fights back a smile.

           “Mm. What I say goes, and I say that you need to go home and not even think about work for at least a month. You certainly could use the break.”

           “A whole month, huh?”

           I nod, looking up at him with a faux serious expression.

           “I better not see you around here for at least that long, or there will be repercussions.”

           Spencer finally does smile at that, and I can practically see the way he’s mulling over his next move in his head.

           “Does… Does that prohibition extend only to the work place?”

           I tilt my head to the side.

           “I’m lost.”

           Spencer scrunches his nose up and his eyes dart across the hall before eventually settling back on me.

           “It’s just that, well, I don’t really know where this leaves us. Will I still see you outside of work, or is that all messed up now?”

           “Why would that be messed up?”

           Spencer closes his eyes and he lets out a haggard breath.

           “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

           Even though he can’t see me, I smile up at him anyways.

           “On any other day I absolutely would, but things are a little… hectic right now. How about we put a pin in this conversation until things slow down a bit?”

           Spencer slowly opens his eyes and they roam over my face, searching.

           “You’re not uncomfortable? Considering everything that, uh, she said about me? Especially the part that pertained to you?” Spencer asks, meek and unsure.

           I shake my head.

           “I think you’ll find that I am very much the opposite of uncomfortable,” I reply. We stand there for a moment longer, just basking in the fact that after three long, miserable months, we’re finally together again.

           Spencer opens his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by Emily calling my name from further down the hall.

           “Duty calls,” I chuckle, pulling away from Spencer. “Tell you mom I said hi, and I’ll be by to visit once you have time to get settled in,” I call over my shoulder.

           I make it a good ten feet down the hall before Spencer’s tugging at my hand and pulling me flush against his chest. He hesitates for a moment, and a flash of uncertainty clouds his eyes, but then he’s pushing it down and pressing his lips to mine.

           Spencer’s lips are slightly chapped, but so, so warm as they move against mine. My response is instantaneous – I don’t hesitate for a second before I’m kissing back. The kiss is slow and tentative, as gentle and tender as it is intoxicating. It’s everything that a kiss should be and it ignites a fire in me that has me grasping at Spencer’s shirt, desperate for more. The hand that isn’t cupping the side of my face presses firmly against the small of my back, urging me forward until absolutely no space is left between us.

           Every drag of his lips against mine acts as gasoline to a flame, and I can’t help but think that Ray Bradbury said it best. It is a pleasure to burn.

           I’m the first to pull away, but it isn’t because I want to. What I want is to stay just like this – entangled in Spencer Reid – until not an inch of our bodies lay unexplored by the other. But when Emily calls out my name yet again, I force myself to stop.

           “I really need to go,” I murmur regretfully, and Spencer nods.

           “Yeah, I know.”

           But that doesn’t stop him from going in for one last, delicious kiss. This time when we break away, it’s his doing. I don’t have the self restraint to pull away twice.

           “Pinky promise you’ll come back to me in one piece?” Spencer says as he lifts his pinky finger up in offering. I link mine with his, and I smile a dopey grin at him.

           “Of course, I will,” I reply. “After all, you and I are due for one hell of a conversation.”

           I shoot him a wink before I’m running down the hall and slipping into the elevator just before the doors close. My teammates all shoot me curious looks, but I pretend like I don’t see and I lean against the wall, trying and failing to slow the rapid beating of my heart.

           It’s Stephen who approaches me when we all file out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

           “Spencer Reid wouldn’t have anything to do with that love-sick look on your face, would he?”

           I attempt to school my expression, but one pointed look from Stephen has me devolving into a fit of giggles like I’m a goddamn school girl.

           “Possibly.”

           “Possibly my ass. When we get done with this case, I expect a full explanation,” Stephen chuckles as he climbs in the back of the SUV.

           “You gossip like a teenager, Walker,” I tease as I climb in after him.

           “What can I say? You kids keep me young.”

           I let out a loud laugh at that.

           “Best shrink a girl could ask for.”

-

-

-

If suffering brings wisdom, I would wish to be less wise.

           - Unknown

taglist: @90spumkin, @wave0fg00dvibes, @bartlebyreid, @goldenxreid , @crubbycrab, @djreid , @waywardswain, @anotherr-fine-mess , @shadyladyperfection , @memoriesfornobody , @fakeauthor , @easygoingtheatre , @haylaansmi , @criminal-minds-reider , @leavesofgrass-stark​ , @anitazut​, @reidspurplescarf​ , @xoprincessmel, @pinkdiamond1016​, @eldahae​, @itsametaphorbriansblog​, @ziggystardustxo​

[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 57

Masterlist

A/N: I've decided to use a more omniscient narrator for this chapter to allow me to jump between povs/places. I hope this isn't confusing, I usually don't write omniscient povs.

----

On the first day, the sun rises to a land drenched in blood. Maybe some of the citizens mistake it for the trick of the light at first, the red morning sun reflecting on the water, but soon enough, they realize that this is no illusion.

The news spread through the land like a great weave, bringing panic in its wake. The river running through the Black Land is essential, its water sustaining the life in the region. There are secondary rivers and wells, of course, but those are turned to blood as well. But Fae cannot drink blood, and neither can their cattle. They cannot use blood to water their crops, either.

The humans are not panicking, although the Fae do not notice this (humans are below their notice, and this goes double when they are currently so occupied with themselves). They are giddy with excitement, even though they are trying to hide it. Having been sent to fetch water for their masters, they were the first to notice something was wrong, and in the beginning, they were worried, but it wasn’t long before the first of them found out that the blood turns back to water in their hands.

In the Seraphim army camp, the soldiers are above all confused. It falls to Drakon to explain the situation to them, as Miryam is still resting in their tent, sleeping so deeply she might as well be unconscious. He keeps his explanations short since he does not want to give any spies who might be listening any important information, but he takes care to make it clear that the curse is set to only affect those who have harmed the human residents of the Black Land, so they should remain unharmed.

Later, in a tent with his army commanders, he goes more into detail. The curse is tied, he explains, to the suffering of the humans here, past and present, and it will continue to punish those who caused that suffering until the humans are freed. As long as they aren’t, things will continue to get worse.

After he has finished, his commanders are silent for a moment. Then, Sinna nods slowly. “If anyone disagrees with this approach,” she says, “you are free to return to Erithia. This decision will have no consequences for you, and no one will think you lesser for it.”

Looks are exchanged, some of them wary, others unsure. No one leaves, though.

On the other end of the country, the Alliance council receives the news of what is happening in the Black Land. Andromache smiles darkly, whispering good riddance to Nakia. Most of the Fae frown, muttering amongst themselves. In the end, a missive is sent out to Miryam, asking her to appear before the council and explain herself. It goes ignored.

In her lavish suite of rooms in her palace, Ravenia receives the news that her rivers are now running with blood together with a letter. It is sealed in the Erithian seal and when she opens it, there is only one word written on the paper: Surrender.

----

On the morning of the second day, Ravenia has the two witchers remaining in her service after Artax’s death herd three-hundred-forty-one humans into a witch circle, making it seven times seven times seven people in the circle in total, and orders them to break the curse. The witchers die. The humans die. And in answer, the earth under them rumbles. Cracks form in the land, running through the ground like spiderwebs.

Out of the cracks crawl insects. Lice and fleas and mosquitos. Within an hour, every Fae throughout the land is covered in itching bites. Some try to flee into the water, but the rivers are still running blood and anyone who does dare to go into that doesn’t last long inside.

Before midday, even the last of the Fae have noticed that the humans are miraculously unaffected by the insects.

Drakon spends the day sending out messengers to all the corners of the country. The message they bear is simple: Free your slaves and this will all end. Refuse, harm them, and it will grow worse until your country is reduced to ashes. He prays they will be reasonable.

A few hours later, Ravenia sends out messengers of her own: Every person who chooses to free their slaves and send them to the Erithian army is guilty of treason and will be executed accordingly.

----

On the third day, the livestock begins to grow sick. No one quite knows where it’s coming from. It’s like the grass has suddenly turned poisonous, even if this poison affects only domesticated animals. By now, people are truly beginning to panic. The water being turned to blood is already bad, but most of them still hope it will be turned back to water soon enough. Dead livestock remains dead, though, and it might cause problems for years to come.

Miryam is still in pain from the spell by then, but it is manageable enough that she feels she can probably get up without falling over immediately. Gritting her teeth, she forces herself into a sitting position on her bed and begins to fumble for some proper clothes. Getting dressed takes thrice as long as usual, but she does manage to stand without falling over, which she counts as a victory. (Less fortunate is the fact that her power is still drained.)

Slowly, Miryam pushes the tent’s entrance open. As soon as she steps outside, the entire camp seems to freeze. The soldiers, who went about their activities until a moment ago, stop mid-motion to stare at her. After a heartbeat, they seem to realize what they are doing and quickly look away, most of them returning to their activities with a stiffness that wasn’t there before.

Miryam desperately wants to tell them that they needn’t be nervous about her, but she forces herself to ignore the awkwardness. If they are scared of her, she will not make it better by calling them out on it. At least the humans don’t seem to be wary of her when she visits their camp – they are more excited than anything – and as the day progresses, the Seraphim relax as well.

In Lako, Ravenia’s situation is growing worse by the hour. Not only is her entire body itching dur to these cursed fleas, she is also under more and more pressure from her nobles. They want to see her acting, and ideally not in a way that sets of a plague of insects all over their country. The last thing Ravenia wants is to show any weakness to Miryam, but right now, another meeting seems inevitable, if only to convince her people that she isn’t just sitting around doing nothing. If it was up to her, she would simply attack the army camped before her city, but her own army is still several days away, and besides, her people don’t seem all too eager to provoke the person who is currently holding their water reserves hostage. So Ravenia grinds her teeth and sends a letter to Miryam, asking for a meeting.

When Miryam receives the letter half an hour later, she frowns and shakes her head. “I’m not going,” she says. “Negotiations? None of my demands are up to negotiations, and anyways, she isn’t in a position to negotiate.”

Of course, if Miryam doesn’t go, Ravenia might use it to pretend that there is no peace because Miryam refuses negotiations. On the other hand, if she does go, Ravenia will just as easily be able to pretend that it was Miryam who caused negotiations to fail, since they would be meeting in private this time, away from the palace and any spying eyes. Either way is a mess, and so Miryam will pick the more pleasant option, which is not going.

“I’ll go,” Drakon says, and when Miryam turns around to frown at him, he shrugs. “I know she likely doesn’t mean this offer, but if there’s any way to resolve this without bloodshed, I think we should take it.”

Miryam nods. She doesn’t exactly agree – mainly because she really does not think Ravenia will listen to reason before she is on the brink of dying of thirst – but she can understand why Drakon feels the need to try. She feels bad enough about the idea of him facing Ravenia alone that she almost offers to come along, though. But Drakon didn’t ask her to, and since she doesn’t want to look like she doesn’t trust him to handle Ravenia on his own, she stays silent.

Two hours later, Drakon sets out for the meeting with Ravenia. He is nervous, but not as nervous as he was during earlier meetings. He doesn’t think the meeting is a trap, and apart from that, there’s little Ravenia can do to him anymore.

They meet by the side of the Klei river. It is a strange meeting place, lacking all the splendour and grandeur of the palaces that hosted all their previous meetings. To Drakon, Ravenia looks entirely out of place here. He can only imagine her in palaces, surrounded by servants, guards and courtiers. Not standing alone in the blood-stained earth, no companions to be seen.

“I was expecting your wife,” Ravenia says by way of greeting.

She is wearing a long, loose silk dress and her usual golden jewellery, but even her expensive clothes cannot hide the stings covering her entire body. Somehow, she also seems smaller than usual, far less imposing.

In her palace, she always manages to make herself seem more-than-Fae, invincible and untouchable. Out here, with the red river only feet away, though, it is obvious that she is just a person who happened to be born into power.

“Miryam is otherwise occupied,” Drakon says. His voice is even, and he is surprised to find that he isn’t terrified. For once, Ravenia’s mere presence isn’t enough to make him want to cower.

“And what would I have to discuss with you?” Ravenia asks.

“You called this meeting,” Drakon says. “I’d assume you would know why you did it.”

Ravenia lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I called the meeting to convince my country’s nobility that I am doing something to solve this unpleasant curse business. If you had any understanding at all of how politics work, you would know that.”

The jab fails to hit its mark. Not long ago, it would have stung, but right now, Drakon doesn’t even understand why he ever let her words hurt him. She is a tyrant, a monster and slave owner. Cauldron, why does he care what she thinks of his competence as a ruler? If anything, he should take it as a complement if she thinks him a bad ruler.

“You ought to surrender,” he says. “No one died yet, but if you continue to refuse, people will die. Your people. End this now, before any lasting damage is done.”

He doesn’t even understand how there can be any debate for Ravenia, how she can so casually risk her peoples’ lives over an already-lost battle.

“I have no intention of surrendering to you,” Ravenia replies evenly.

“What other choice do you have?” He shakes his head. “You’ve lost. Do you truly want to wait until hundreds, thousands of your people have died before you will finally admit it? Would that satisfy your pride?”

“If you’re so concerned about my peoples’ lives, you should not have set off that curse. Make no mistake, Your Highness – any deaths that will happen in this will be on you and your wife.” She laughs. “Or maybe only your wife, since I doubt she even discussed it with you first. It must be such a relief for you to finally have handed over your country to someone else.”

Drakon stares at her, lightly shaking his head. How did he ever allow himself to be this terrified of her? She is just a person. Someone with power, yes, but a large part of her power also comes from other people allowing her to have power over them. And right now, in their current situation, she has no power at all if Drakon doesn’t play along with her games.

“I don’t need to listen to this,” he says, nearly smiles at the surprise on her face. “I’m just here because I wanted to see if there was a way to avoid unnecessary deaths. It seems there isn’t, so I’m leaving. If you change your mind, send a letter.”

He winnows away without giving her the chance to reply. The meeting might not have led anywhere, he might not have managed to convince Ravenia of a peaceful solution, but still, this feels like a victory, if a smaller and more personal one.

----

On the fourth day, people begin to grow sick. It’s like the sand has turned to acid – wherever it touches them, it leaves boils and burns. None of it is life-threatening, but it is certainly painful.

The council sends another missive to Miryam, demands that she is to explain herself growing more urgent. She writes back this time, a short, polite refusal. The last thing she needs right now is the council meddling in her decisions.

According to her estimations, the surrender should arrive within the day. Fae can go five days without water. They are on the fourth day and by now, even Ravenia should have realized that there will be no breaking this curse. Theoretically, she has until tomorrow, but it would be smarter to surrender now, when her people aren’t yet on the brink of dying from thirst and she still stands a chance of making her position seem less desperate.

No royal messenger arrives, though. Miryam spends most of the day walking around the camp, trying to hold casual conversations with people. The Seraphims’ nervousness around her has eased somewhat, as they seem to have realized that Miryam cursing a country does not mean that she will be acting any differently towards them.

A delegation from Lako arrives at dusk. Miryam’s heart leaps, but then, she sees that these people don’t come bearing Ravenia’s coat of arms. Their expensive clothes mark them as nobles, and indeed Miryam recognizes a few of them, but they were not sent by Ravenia.

The leader is a woman dressed in a long, purple gown. It is cut longer than is fashion, with a high neckline and long sleeves, but even those don’t entirely manage to conceal the boils and stings all over her body. After a moment’s hesitation, Miryam recognizes her as Lady Seliah, one of the higher-ranking nobles in the city. She bows before Miryam, which comes as a surprise.

“Your Highness,” she says, then bows before Drakon who appeared next to Miryam. “Your Highness.”

“Lady Seliah,” Miryam replies, watching surprise flicker over the other woman’s face. Of course, she wouldn’t remember that they have met before. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“We have come to ask, no, to beg you to end this curse.” Seliah keeps her eyes lowered as she speaks. “We will gladly meet your demands – “

“Will you?” Miryam cuts her off, although she keeps her tone pleasant. “Because I think I made my demands quite clear, and still, I have not yet received news of you freeing your slaves.”

Seliah squirms. “Queen Ravenia has forbidden us from releasing them. We would gladly meet your terms, but there is no way for us to do so without risking our lives.”

“Given how easily you accepted my peoples’ suffering – and, in fact, accept the risk to their lives right now – you’ll understand if I find myself struggling to sympathize,” Miryam replies. What is it with these Fae always thinking that no matter what atrocities they commit, they will come out unharmed? Do they expect Miryam to be moved by them suddenly feeling threatened by the very ruler they supported all these years?

“I’m not asking in my name, but in the name of the innocent people who are suffering,” Seliah says.

A noble dressed in fine silks as a champion for the common people. Well, that is certainly something new. If this was the route they wanted to go, you’d think they would have been smart enough to at least send someone who isn’t noble.”

“And it’s the innocents in this country I am thinking of when I refuse,” Miryam replies, deliberately twisting her words. After all, which Fae here is truly innocent? She shakes her head. “If Ravenia is your problem, I suggest you deal with it. And quickly, since I believe you might be running out of water soon.”

If Seliah is angry, she hides it well. She merely bows her head, thanks Miryam for her time and returns to the city.

By sunset, her and the other nobles who accompanied her are dead, their bodies hanging from the walls of Lako, a message to anyone else in the city who might consider going behind Ravenia’s back to negotiate with the enemy.

----

By the fifth day, the earth has taken to trembling slightly every couple of minutes. That’s not the worst of it, though. When the sun rises, it is quickly obscured by a buzzing cloud of insects. Locusts, who descend upon the fields, bushes and trees with a vengeance. Within hours, they have devoured any leaves they managed to get a hold on, destroying this year’s harvest within hours. People are panicking.

And still, there is no word from Ravenia.

This is not what Miryam planned. Ravenia ought to have surrendered by now. She needs to surrender – without any water supply, she has no other choice. Yet five days are almost over. By now, people must be dying of thirst, and still, Ravenia hasn’t sent word.

Miryam wanders through the camp, restless. Something is going wrong, but she doesn’t know what. She supposes it’s possible that Ravenia has people winnowing water in, but they could never bring enough for the entire population. And surely Ravenia wouldn’t sacrifice thousands of her people, right? (Killing thousands of people was never part of Miryam’s plan. She knew there might be casualties, yes, and she willingly accepted it. She did not anticipate that everyone might die, though.)

She figures out what went wrong a few hours before sunset, when a stack of barrels in the centre of the camp she passes for the fifth time that evening catches her attention. She stops one of the soldiers rushing past.

Nodding towards the barrels, she asks, “What’s in those?”

“It’s mostly water, Your Highness,” he replies. “It is customary to keep some storages in case the river gets poisoned.”

Miryam nods slowly, horror dawning on her at the realization and growing worse as she looks into one of the barrels. The water in those barrels is still water. Every river, every will and spring in the entire Black Land is running blood, but a curse on the land apparently does not affect water that is being stored in canisters and barrels. Most of the Black Land relies on water from the river, yes, but the cities would still have some storages, or at least some other beverages like wine, to last them for a few days.

This is all wrong.

Some part of Miryam is glad that at least she didn’t just cause hundreds of thousands of people to die from thirst, but at the same time… It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

It’s the same thing she tells Drakon, ten minutes later in their tent, after having explained to him and Sinna what happened.

“This isn’t how it was meant to happen,” she whispers, more to herself than to anyone else. “They should have been surrendering by now. Fae can’t go for more than five days without water – they would have had to surrender.”

This was the plan. Take away their water and make them uncomfortable. Scare them, force them into a surrender. This was the plan. No one would even have needed to die if only they had been reasonable.

Drakon’s face is dark. “Will Ravenia distribute her water supplies?” He asks.

Miryam flinches. She hadn’t even considered that angle yet. “I don’t know,” she says.

Ravenia will want to keep enough water for herself and her nobles, that much is certain. But at the same time, she will need to appease her subject somehow if she doesn’t want to risk riots.

“To the nobles for sure,” she says after a moment’s hesitation. “Probably also some citizens. But the poorer ones, those who aren’t living in the city…” She shrugs and shakes her head at the same time.

This isn’t how she meant it to happen. The people who will die will still be slave owners, still criminals, but… It wasn’t the lower classes she meant to hit with this. And she knew people would likely die, both from her curse and the consequences that might follow, but she had thought the deaths would be few and far between.

Now, they likely won’t be.

“Alright, then,” Sinna says, crossing her arms. “What will that curse of yours do next?”

“I don’t know,” Miryam says, voice small. She didn’t plan this far, didn’t think it would get this far. (Didn’t really care, if she is being entirely honest.) “This is complicated magic, and I only really planned it out for five days.” Because after five days, every Fae here was supposed to be on the brink of dying from thirst. “The curse is set in a way that will make it get worse, but how…” She shrugs. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell.”

Sinna is silent for a moment. Then, she says slowly, “So you set a curse on an entire country without knowing what it will do should it go on for longer than you planned.” She shakes her head and cuts a glare at Drakon. “Both of you. And you didn’t think that might turn into a problem?” When neither of them reply, she sighs. “Wonderful.”

Miryam stares down at her feet and doesn’t say that she would do it all again for a chance to save her people.

----

On the sixth day, the sun doesn’t rise. Or maybe it does, but its light certainly doesn’t reach the Black Land. Throughout the country, torches are being lit, but even their light barely manages to pierce the darkness that has fallen. It is a darkness that can be felt, thick and heavy like ink.

Once again, the humans get away easily. To them, the darkness feels soothing and while they can’t see anywhere near as good as in light, they can still easily make out shapes.

Many of them decide to use the opportunity while it is there. Their masters cannot see in the darkness – they can. In thousands, humans flee from the cities, vanish from houses and fields and make for the centre of the country where they have heard they will find safety.

In one of the cities to the west, the Fae leadership decides enough is enough. They will not be humiliated by a mortal like this, and they will not allow their slaves to get away unscathed, to laugh at their misery and celebrate their own victory. They will show to that mortal girl who thinks she can force their hand and attack their country, show to every mortal worm what happens when they try to cross the Fae.

They give out the order to have every human in the city brought to the marketplace and killed.

The news spread through the city like wildfire. The humans clutter together, hold on tight to each other and prepare for the end. Most of the Fae stand tightly together as well – but where the humans are silent, they are whispering, arguing. By that time, it is common knowledge that this curse is punishment for slavery, for harming humans. It is also common knowledge that Miryam’s policy for people who murder humans is simple: Execution. In other words, killing a whole group of humans does not seem to be the smartest course of action in this situation.

The large majority of the Fae in the Black Land, the Fae in this city, doesn’t care at all about human lives. They do, however, care a whole lot about their own lives. And right now, they are quickly discovering that they aren’t ready to die so that their leaders can get a brief moment of empty defiance against the people invading their country – especially when those invaders have already promised to be lenient if their demands are met.

Within a few hours, leadership over the city has quietly changed hands. The city council has been, for the time being, locked into the dungeons. After quite some arguments and even more grumbling, the humans are allowed to leave the slave quarters and instead given proper rooms in the Fae’s houses. No one is quite fond of that arrangement, but well, the curse is said to be tied to human suffering, and since no one is quite sure what counts as suffering, being extra careful seems only sensible.

Of course, the story of what happened there does not stay confined to one city. Within hours, all of the neighbouring towns have heard and many of them quietly decide to follow their example. That there is no immediate reaction from Ravenia only makes people grow bolder.

A meeting is called and held that night, with a good half of the Black Land’s city leadership in attendance. After a few hours of arguing, they come to the conclusion that there is only one sensible course of action right now: To fulfil Miryam’s demands even if Ravenia refuses to, and hope that will be enough to keep them safe. They are all aware that Ravenia would have their heads for this decision, but they have long reached the point where a soon-to-be-dead queen is far, far less daunting than what might happen if they refuse Miryam’s demands for any longer.

Throughout the country, Fae are beginning to die of thirst by now. Some are lucky enough to have found water, and the children, as it turns out, can still drink from the rivers and wells, but the death toll still climbs quickly, reaching and surpassing one thousand before midday. Everyone who survives is hungry and miserable and, by now, ready to do just about anything to end this curse. Still, though, Ravenia does not surrender.

----

On the seventh day, a thunderstorm breaks out. Lighting flashes through the sky, piercing the darkness that is still reining in the country for seconds at a time. Thunder roars, and hail falls to the ground in giant chunks, destroying fields and injuring or killing anyone who is stupid enough to be outside. (Notably, it doesn’t hit a single human although some of them have been sent outside to bring in any surviving livestock.)

Throughout the country, cities and villages are beginning to free their slaves and send them on their way towards the capital. Groups of thousands form, slowly marching through the storm.

On the other side of the Continent, the council is horrified. At least that’s what the Fae members keep repeating, even though most of them are honestly more horrified by the idea of what Miryam being able to completely wreck a country within a few days might mean for them than by the moral issue of sending giant chunks of ice raining down on a country. Meanwhile, Andromache is just about ready to punch the next person to talk about how horrifying Miryam’s actions are, especially when these are the people who, through years and centuries past, were never once been horrified by the crimes committed against humans.

She does not see the undercurrent moving through the Alliance, just below the surface of civility and righteous outrage. She does not notice the looks that are being exchanged while the human councilmembers are no looking, the meetings that are held, in secret and behind closed doors. Zeku notices, though, and he watches the events unfold in silence. He could stop it still, he supposes, or at least try to alert someone to it. But he has his own people to think of, and he cannot throw their lives away over a lost cause. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t try to warn Miryam, time and again. No one can blame him that she never listened.

The seventh day is also the day when Mor finally loses her patience. She has been watching in silence so far, horror growing with each day, unable to comprehend what she is seeing. In the beginning, she tried to tell herself that Miryam wasn’t harming anyone, that she was just trying to pressure the Fae into doing her bidding, but now, people are dying and Miryam still shows no sign of stopping.

She doesn’t understand. Cannot wrap her mind around how Miryam – Miryam who values kindness and hates unnecessary cruelty – can do this.

Mor has come to the decision that she will make her see reason. This needs to end, now, and somehow, Mor will convince Miryam. She steps out of her tent where she was hiding from the thunderstorm outside and begins to search the camp for Miryam.

The Fae camp is emptier than usual. It seems that even with the storm not affecting them, most of the soldiers prefer to hide in their tents. The humans are out and about, though, sitting about campfires and talking. Some of them must have dragged some of the smaller balls of hail over, and now, children are gathered around as some of the adult divide up the ice between them. They seem to be enjoying themselves. And well, why shouldn’t they? After all, none of the curses ever affect them.

It is that precision, more than anything else, that scares more. Because a spell this precise is no accident, no result of a moment’s desperation. It is calculated, and that makes it worse.

She finds Miryam on the second round through the camp, as she is just about to enter her tent. Drakon and Sinna are with her. Mor hurries over to join them.

“You need to end this,” she says by way of greeting. This was not how she meant to approach the topic, but damnit, there are chunks of ice that are bigger than her raining from the sky.

Sinna arches an eyebrow. “Hello to you, too, Mor,” she says. “Pleasure meeting you.”

Mor ignores her and instead turns to Miryam. “You need to end this,” she repeats. “Before any more people die. Miryam, please, so many people are already dead, it can’t go on like this.”

Miryam sighs. “And what other choice do I have?” She sounds so tired. Looks tired, too. Mor didn’t notice the last few days, but she looks like she hasn’t slept at all since she cast the spell. “If I were to end this now – which I can’t, by the way – what do you think would happen? This is the only protection my people have, Mor.”

On another day, Miryam’s words might have gotten through to Mor. Today, though, she doesn’t even notice the implications of Miryam saying that she can’t undo the curse, she is far too caught up in her horror and confusion about how Miryam can stand there and defend what is happening.

She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. “This goes too far, Miryam.” Miryam doesn’t reply and Mor gestures wildly to the sky. “Have you looked outside lately? There are human-sized chunks of ice falling from the sky. You can’t just destroy an entire country for revenge!”

Miryam’s face hardens. “You think I’m doing this for revenge?” She asks.

Yes, Mor does think that. At least partially. If it wasn’t out of revenge, no one would ever do this. Certainly not Miryam, who hates hurting people.

“Does it matter?” She shoots back, voice rising. Heads are beginning to turn in their direction. “There is no reason good enough to justify this! You are killing thousands of innocents!”

“Funny, because I thought I was saving the innocents, and the people who are dying were all slave owners,” Miryam snaps, although she keeps her voice hushed. Then, she shakes her head and her posture relaxes slightly. “Besides, there’s no point in having this argument. I cannot stop this curse – it’s set to continue until the Black Land frees its slaves.”

Mor shakes her head, a chill running down her spine. Miryam couldn’t have… She wouldn’t have… She would never have set a spell to destroy a country without leaving a backdoor to stop it.

“And what if Ravenia doesn’t surrender?” She asks. She wants to take Miryam by the shoulders and shake her until she understands, but from the way Sinna is currently looking at her, she probably wouldn’t get away with that. “What then, Miryam?”

Now, finally, Miryam lowers her eyes. So she does feel bad after all. But it is clear that she still doesn’t regret what she did. To her, this seems more like this is an unfortunate side effect, something she doesn’t like to consider but still willingly accepted to get what she wants.

“Then I imagine the next Loyalist country will think twice before refusing to surrender,” Sinna answers for Miryam. “And now lower your voice. You’re making a scene.”

Mor stares at her like she’s seeing her for the first time. Then, she turns around to Drakon, who has been watching in silence until now. He has to agree with her. Surely he cannot like this any more than she does.

“Drakon,” she says, almost pleading, “you cannot agree with this. Tell me you don’t think this is right.”

But Drakon, Cauldron damn him, merely shakes his head. “Five hundred thousand people, Mor,” he says softly. “We are talking about five hundred thousand people who will all be murdered if Ravenia gets her way.”

Mor gapes at him, unable to believe that he is taking Miryam’s side on this. If there is one person who she was sure would disagree with this, it was Drakon. But well, Miryam is his mate. Maybe she should have expected that he would back her up in anything, no matter what.

She turns back to Miryam. “There are lines!” She snaps. By now, people are beginning to stop and stare, but Mor doesn’t care. “Lines you can’t cross, no matter what! And murdering thousands of civilians is one of those lines!”

“And what would you have me do instead?” Miryam asks. She doesn’t sound angry, just tired. Somehow, that makes it worse. If she was angry, Mor could at least tell herself that this was a spontaneous decision made out of anger or fear, not a calculated plan. “Do nothing and allow them all to be murdered rather than jeopardize my moral integrity? Would that make me a good person in your eyes?”

Mor opens her mouth – and closes it again when she realizes she doesn’t have a reply. The way Miryam puts it, there is no possible reply she can give. She doesn’t know how to explain that this simply isn’t right, and she’s too angry, too desperate to be particularly eloquent anymore. How did she come to be standing here, arguing with Miryam about whether it is okay for her to take an entire country hostage or not?

Miryam sighs and takes a step towards Mor. “You think I like this any more than you do?” She asks. “Believe me, if there was any other way, I would have gladly taken it.”

Mor takes a step backwards. “Yeah, well, I’m sure Ravenia thought she was justified in destroying Erithia as well,” she snaps.

The tension that takes over the room is almost physical. It’s like everyone tenses at once, like the temperature drops by a few degrees. Sinna takes half a step towards Mor, hand clenched to a fist. Drakon grabs her by the arm and stops her before she can get any further.

“That was a sorry comparison, Mor,” he says softly.

“Oh, yes, my comparison is a problem but Miryam casually killing thousands of people is perfectly fine,” Mor snaps.

She is vaguely aware that she should probably take her comment back, apologize. But she is far too angry and she still doesn’t understand.

“I apologize,” Miryam finally says. Her voice is icy, her face carefully blank. “I assumed I made it clear enough what the goal of this campaign would be, and what I was ready to do to achieve it. I wouldn’t want to make you participate in anything you are uncomfortable with, so if you truly feel this way, you are, of course, free to leave.”

“I certainly don’t need your permission for this,” Mor replies, voice equally sharp. “You go commit all the crimes you feel like, but I want no part in that.”

With that, she spins around and pushes through the newly-assembled crowd of onlookers towards the edge of the camp. She winnows away as soon as she reaches the edge of the wards.

Miryam remains standing in front of her tent, staring at the spot where Mor was standing until a moment ago. Then, she slowly looks up at the soldiers who are standing around, staring. She hopes they didn’t hear everything that happened.

“We should probably go inside,” she mutters, pain twisting in her chest. She tries very, very hard not to think about what Mor said, or about the fact that this might just have been the end of their friendship. (Not necessarily, she tries to tell herself. People argue all the time and usually, they find a way to fix their relationships afterwards.)

As soon as they are inside, she slumps down on one of the cushions lying on the ground. She pulls her knees up to her chin and stares down at the ground. Drakon sits down next to her. Hesitantly, he reaches a hand for her, letting it hover inches away from her arm, until Miryam leans against him.

“Well, that was nasty,” Sinna says.

Drakon nods, face tight.

“I don’t want all these people to die,” Miryam says. “Of course I don’t, I just…” She shakes her head, fumbling for words.

She understands Mor’s anger, doesn’t blame her for it, and yet… She never made a secret of it, did she? Time and time again, she said that she would do whatever it takes to free her people. She always, always made it known that she would do anything, cross every line if it meant her people could walk free. So why is Mor surprised now?

The problem, she thinks, is that people use the words “whatever it takes” too casually. It’s just like with the word “hate” – people use it so often, so easily, that it loses its original meaning. When people promise “I will do whatever it takes”, they usually mean “I will try really hard”. There’s always some kind of line, though, something they won’t be able to do. They mean “I will go until a certain point, and if I haven’t reached my goal by then, well, no one can really blame me, right?”

And Miryam doesn’t have a problem with that mindset. People should have lines. It is deeply concerning when they don’t. She doesn’t blame Mor for disagreeing with her methods or not going any further, either. But it’s not like Miryam wasn’t honest.

Besides, lines or no lines, surely what Miryam is doing isn’t that horrible? It is terrible, sure, but Mor seems to be forgetting that the only people who are affected, the only people who die, are slave owners who, through seven years of war, refused to stop owning people as property. It’s not that Miryam wants every slave owner to die, she doesn’t even want these people to die, but they are hardly innocents. Each and every one of them has the choice to free their slaves and convince others to do the same. If they don’t, why would Miryam coddle them, these Fae who committed so many crimes against her people?  Why is it that they get to commit atrocity after atrocity and still be considered innocent bystanders in this conflict?

“I don’t know what she expects of me,” she says out loud, jumping to her feet. She promised herself that she wouldn’t be angry with anyone for being horrified at what she is doing, but right now, she just can’t help it. “That I act perfect about everything? How am I supposed to free a single human if Ravenia can have each and every one of them murdered at will, but I am apparently a monster if I so much as kill a few slave owners?”

Drakon rises as well and puts a hand on her arm. “Mor was just upset,” he says. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Miryam is far less sure of that. For whatever reason, Mor cannot accept what she is doing and she highly doubts that will change.

“It’s a matter of visibility, I think,” Sinna says. “Wars usually kill far more civilians than this, but what you are doing is very flashy. Besides, those deaths are usually presented as accidents – even if they aren’t – while you appear to be attacking civilians on purpose.”

“Well, those civilians are slave owners and I’m trying to get them free the slaves,” Miryam says drily.

“I’m not saying you are wrong. I’m saying people will be more easily horrified by this because it is so visible.” Sinna shrugs. “It doesn’t make sense. I mean, this entire war killed far more civilians than what you are doing now, yet no one ever blamed you for starting it.”

Miryam freezes, staring over at Sinna. Some part of her realizes that she meant well, but… it’s bad enough to think about the thousand-or-so people who died in the last few days. She really did not need to be reminded that technically, every person who died in the entire war is her fault.

This is all too much. Why must everything always be her responsibility? All these hundreds of thousands of lives… no single person should be responsible for so much. It’s always her needing to make these choices, and while she thinks she is right, she really doesn’t have a way of knowing and this is just too much to handle.

She needs to get away.

“You’ll excuse me,” Miryam says, jumping to her feet. She pushes the tent’s entrance aside and rushes out of the tent.

The moment she steps outside, she realizes that this was a mistake. Soldiers pause to stare at her, their gazes almost a physical weight. Momentum carrying her forward, Miryam keeps walking.

Before she has made it more than two steps, Drakon catches up with her. He must have moved inhumanely fast, because he manages to be by her side quickly enough to make it seem like he was walking out with her all along.

“Sorry,” Drakon says as their guards fall into place behind them. “Sinna was trying to be comforting.”

Miryam nods. “I’m not angry,” she says, and she really isn’t. There’s just a wave crashing down around her and she can feel herself drowning and she needs to get out. “I just need a moment alone.”

She can feel Drakon’s hesitation, and his worry. But she isn’t trying to shut him out, really. She just… well. Sometimes, for some things, she needs time alone. And right now, she desperately needs to be alone, and out of this camp, away from watching eyes.

“Can we talk later?” She asks.

Drakon nods. “Sure. I have a meeting, anyways. I should probably go.” He squeezes her hand. “See you later.”

Miryam nods, manages a smile and hurries off. As soon as she leaves the tent, though, she realizes that being alone is an illusion. A group of five guards is trailing her. In the camp, that might have been easy to ignore, but as soon as she leaves it, it becomes painfully obvious that she is being followed.

Still, she does her best to ignore it, but it is simply impossible. For all that these guards are trying to be inconspicuous, Miryam knows they are there. And as long as they are there, she needs to keep up appearances when all she really needs is some time alone with her feelings to sort through them without constantly being under inspection from others. And she trusts her guards, she does, but there is always the chance that someone might be a spy. Or even without ill intent, they might just end up talking in the camp about how their Princess is losing control, and that would be bad enough.

Her hands begin to shake and she can feel a sob building somewhere in her chest. Somewhere close by, a chunk of ice hits the ground, sand spraying to all sides. Miryam abruptly stops walking and turns around to her guards.

“I would like to be alone for a bit,” she says. “Would you please wait here?”

Her guards exchange looks. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but we can’t… I mean…” He hesitates, looking down at his toes.

“A few minutes alone can’t be too much to ask, can they?” Miryam snaps.

Her guards flinch, and Miryam immediately feels bad. Now she is being an ass to the people whose job it is to protect her. Of course they can’t let her out of sight in the middle of a war, in enemy territory. But she really, really needs to be alone right now, preferably before her control fractures entirely.

Miryam takes a deep breath, trying to fight her rising panic, and looks around. There is a ruin peeking out of the sand in the distance. Not much of it is visible, but it might provide some cover.

“I’ll go over there,” she says and points. “And you stay here. That way, you’ll be able to keep an eye on me and I get some time alone.”

Still, Kalirin, the head of her guards, doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “Your Highness…”

Miryam sighs. “If anything happens, I’ll scream. Until then, you stay here.”

With that, she turns around and walks towards the ruin. The sand crunches under her feet and gets stuck between her toes. The camp itself is closer to the river, where the sand gives way to fertile earth and soft grass, but here, she is standing in an ocean of sand. The ruin pokes out of it like a shipwreck, half-buried and destroyed.

The sandstone the building was made of is withered by the centuries, but Miryam finds an entrance. She has to shove a bit of sand aside, but then, there is enough space for her to squeeze through.

As soon as she is safely hidden from sight, her composure cracks. A sob breaks out of her, an ugly, harsh sound, and then she is on her knees, sobbing. She curls up in the tiny space she made for herself and lets the tears flow.

Eventually, the tears stop. Miryam pushes herself up on her elbows and immediately bangs her head on the ceiling. “Ow,” she mutters and leans her back against the wall. She is trembling slightly and her face is probably swollen from all the crying.

She doesn’t want to go back. If she just stays here, she will never have to face the consequences of what she did. (It isn’t realistic, of course, but just for the moment, it’s nice to imagine.) She tilts her head backwards and stares up at the ceiling.

There are figures carved into it. That in itself isn’t unusual – murals and carvings are popular here – and Miryam is about to turn away when she hesitates. Having lived in the palace in Lako for years, she is familiar with the art the Black Land Fae favour as well as the major historic styles. This style is unfamiliar to her, though.

On any other day, Miryam would have dismissed it, but right now, she jumps at the chance to distract herself. (If she is thinking about these carvings, she isn’t thinking about her argument with Mor, after all.) It is too dark in here for her to make out much of the details, so she begins to shove more sand away from the entrance.

It takes a while, but eventually, Miryam has shoved away enough sand that it’s no darker inside the building than outside. (Which means pitch-black in both cases, but this darkness, Miryam can see through with little difficulty.) Now, with more light, it becomes increasingly clear that these carvings are old, far older than Miryam first thought. She twists around a bit to get a better look, brushes some dust away until she can make out one of the carvings, depicting a woman with a spear raised over her head. Her hair is tied back into hundreds of tiny braids, revealing rounded ears.

The woman in the carving is human.

Miryam’s heart leaps. She stares at the carving for a moment, then begins to hectically push away the sand from the rest of them. A group of people sitting around a table. A woman bathing in a river. People celebrating on a barge, a sunset in the background. There are more carvings in the back, but here, the passage gets too narrow for Miryam to squeeze through and there is too little light to make out the carvings.

Every single person in the carvings she found is human, though. And the Fae of the Black Land never depict humans in any way, deeming them too unimportant to commit and effort into creating drawings or carvings of them. Which means…

It means that these carvings were made by humans. Sometime, likely millennia ago, humans built this building and carved scenes from their lives into the walls.

It means that Ghost was right. Long ago, so long it has been forgotten by the world, there were free humans in this land. Maybe one of the women in the carvings is even the queen he talked about, Rashida. This land belonged to them, they spent their lives here in freedom, and they left traces of it in the walls.

Oh, how she wishes Jurian was here to see this.

Miryam runs her hands over the carvings like that will bring the scenes to life, summon some faint echo of the people who once carved these scenes. She so desperately wishes she could imagine what it was like, but she can’t even truly imagine the Black Land under human rule.

In another world, one where the Fae never took this country away from her ancestors, she might have been born free. She might have lived a happy life, never needing to know war and suffering. She might have loved this country as fiercely as she now hates it, loved it as the humans who made these carvings surely did.

In this world, though, Miryam cannot bring herself to feel any sense of positive connection to this land, no matter its history. This will never be here home. But if she succeeds, then perhaps in a few years, other humans will feel differently. If part of the Black Land goes to the humans, there will be human children born in this country who must never know slavery, who will love this land as a home. They will have everything Miryam didn’t, everything humans in the past had.

And if she needs to burn this country to the ground to get there, then so be it.

----

On the eighth day, the sky starts raining fire. It falls from the sky in huge balls, trailing tails of light behind themselves like comets. Maybe the first Fae to see them in the dark mistook them for shooting stars, or marvelled at their beauty. Maybe some even thought the sudden light in the sky might signal an end to this horrible curse.

They soon learn better.

Where the ice was devastating, the fire is worse. It slams through houses, through wood and stone as if it where paper and sets everything in its wake on fire. Soon enough, the darkness that is still reining throughout the country is replaced by the flickering, orange glow of flames devouring anything in their paths. Throughout the villages and cities, Fae are rushing around, trying desperately to put out the fires, forced to resort to blood from the river instead of water. It isn’t enough, though. Even the fire magic so many of the High Fae here have doesn’t manage to keep the flames at bay.

Miryam watches the flames from afar. The human and Seraphim camp is still dark around her, untouched by the flames, but she can make out Lako in the distance, a glowing orb orange light. She wonders if Ravenia is there, wonders how she feels to see her city go up in flames around her. For a brief moment, she wishes she could see the look on her face.

The triumph that flickers through her at the thought is short-lived. For the most part, she feels terrible. If she is being entirely honest, though, terrible is all she allows herself to feel. If she only feels bad enough about herself, maybe the guilt and horror will be able to drown out the part of her that rejoices at the sight of the city she hated so much in flames, these people who caused her and her people so much pain finally paying for it, Ravenia’s kingdom that was built on human blood crumbling around her.

Miryam could have lived, she thinks, without knowing that she is capable of watching a country burn, knowing that this will cost thousands of lives, and feeling triumphant.

Only a few miles away in Lako, Ravenia stands on one of the many balconies in her palace and stares out at her burning city. All day long, people have been rushing around, trying to put out the flames, but what good does it do when new fire keeps falling from the sky without pause? Even now, comets of fire are shooting down towards her city, tearing through buildings and people. Destroying millennia old buildings, killing and burning.

Ravenia tears her eyes away from the flames and looks out into the darkness where she knows the mortal worm who caused all this has set her camp. Oh, what she would give to see her head spiked to the castle walls. She would set fire to her capital herself, burn down each and every house by hand, if it means that she could get her hands on Miryam in exchange.

She knows, though, that Miryam is beyond her reach. With her army refusing orders, she has no way to get to the girl and she knows that by tomorrow, it will all be over anyways.

If it was up to her, she would take this to the bitter end. Let Miryam burn down the entire country, but Ravenia would see to it that she doesn’t get a single human out alive. She would kill them all and leave Miryam alone in the ashes, choking on her empty victory.

But Ravenia’s people are cowards. Weak-willed, traitorous cowards. Even now, she can see them gathering in the streets, whispering, cursing her name. They have been at it for some time now. Yesterday, when the hail started, Ravenia’s spies first reported that they were talking of an uprising, but now that it’s fire raining from the sky instead of ice, they are actually ready to go through with it.

Ravenia does not wish to surrender. Everything in her rebels against the idea of admitting defeat against a mortal worm, one of her former slaves no less. Yet she doesn’t doubt that if she doesn’t, her own people will drag her out of her palace and tear her apart with their bare hands. Maybe they will send her head to Miryam along with the surrender whoever they chose as their leader will sign, and while the idea of having to surrender and be exiled or executed stings, being usurped and killed by her own people is even more unbearable. If this is the end, then at least she will face it proudly.

Ravenia does not wish to surrender. But in the end, surrender she does.

----

On the ninth day, the sun rises to a destroyed country. The rivers may be running water again, but the end of the curse did not erase its effects. The fields are still destroyed, most of the land burned to ashes, the buildings in ruins. Thousands of people dead.

The palace is deserted. Putting Ravenia and her highest-ranking government officials in chains and sending them to Telique was the first thing Miryam and Drakon did upon taking control of the city. The nobles who were not imprisoned fled to their estates in the countryside, apparently fearing that the invaders might change their minds, and any humans who used to work here have no desire to return.

Miryam had no desire to return, either, and yet she did. Drakon merely shook his head when she asked him if he wanted to return to the palace one last time, but she felt she had to go and so she went.

Slowly, she walks through the deserted halls. There are a million memories connected to this place, and not a single one of them good. She isn’t entirely sure what she is looking for. Some sort of closure, perhaps. Not healing – that will take years and years still – but something to help her make her peace. She knows Drakon found it during his meeting with Ravenia, but when Miryam saw the queen being marched off in chains earlier, she only felt a bitter satisfaction. It doesn’t make the memories of what happened sting less, though.

She reaches the throne room. No guards to be seen, she pushes the doors open herself and steps inside. The hall is entirely empty. A polished floor, artfully decorated walls, an empty throne Ravenia will never sit on again. It looks strangely peaceful, deceptively unthreatening.

This is where Miryam watched her mother and so many other humans, more than she can count, die. This is where she stood, day after day for three years, cowering behind Ravenia’s throne. Where she broke into a million pieces.

She doesn’t know what she is looking for. There is no closure here, not for her. For all that she might want to lock her memories of this place away, it is not possible.

But maybe that’s alright. She has won the war, freed her people. Fulfilled her promise. She isn’t fool enough to think that things will be easy from here on, but she has decades to find a way to make it work. Learn to live with the nightmares instead of run from them. Deal with what was done to her, and what she did. Make a world where no one will ever have to go through the same things as her.

She has her entire life left, and she won’t waste another moment of it in this nightmare.

Miryam turns her back on this horrible, cruel place, this lavish palace now turned crumbling ruin. She does not plan on ever returning – not to this place, and not to this country. Slowly, she walks out of the palace gates one last time.

Outside of the city, she finds her people. They are camped below the city walls, thousands and thousands of them. All of them amazingly, miraculously alive. From where she is standing, she can see children running around between the tents, chasing each other. One of them lets out a breathless laugh.

And doesn’t that alone make every bit of blood and pain, every horrible loss and difficult decision that led her here worth it?

Miryam closes her eyes and lifts her face to the sun shining above. I came back for you, she thinks. Nine years and a war and countless deaths between then and now, but I made it. You are free. We are all free.

----

On the other end of the Continent, Ravenia, formerly Queen of the Black Land, is given a truly unpleasant cell. It comes as a shock, at least to her. She is a queen, after all. Surely they are not going to lock her up in a dreary hole like this, even if she is slated for execution? She always knew the Alliance has little manners, but this is even worse than what she expected. (Unbeknownst to her, some of the Fae on the council were in favour of giving her a pleasant suite of rooms, but they quickly got shouted down by their human colleagues.)

While in the Black Land, humans are travelling towards the capital where so many of their peers are already waiting, Ravenia sits in her cell and stares at the wall. While, eventually, Miryam, Drakon, their army and the hundreds of thousands of humans they are escorting make for the Erythrian Sea where they have arranged for a fleet of ships to escort them across the narrow channel into a more friendly kingdom, Ravenia grumbles about her food and the lack of proper entertainment and pretends, for whoever is watching (which, really, are only a few guards), that this cell is her palace and she still queen.

Her solitude is interrupted just over a week after she was thrown into the cell. Emperor Shey steps into the room. He is dressed in a pristine chemise, deep blue coat slung over his shoulders and his light hair shimmering in the candlelight. Ravenia rises, pretending she is as well-dressed as he is, even though her looks have suffered significantly in the last week.

“Your Excellency,” she says. She does not incline her head (after all, she is Ravenia of the Black Land and she bows to no one, even if she is a prisoner). “I would offer you a seat, but I seem to lack a chair to offer.”

Shey nods. “I’m afraid my mortal allies have little sense for hospitality.” He makes to lean against the wall, seems to notice that it is covered in dirt, and wrinkles his nose. “I come with a suggestion,” he says and holds out a hand. A small bronze key lies in his palm, glowing with some enchantment. Ravenia’s eyes dash from the key to the shackles tying her to the walls, then back again to the key.

“It is charmed to allow you to winnow out of the castle in spite of the wards,” Shey says casually.

Ravenia keeps her gaze fixed on the key but doesn’t reach out to touch it. “Betraying your own allies on your day of victory?” She laughs. “Seems unwise.”

“Not much of a betrayal, is it?” Shey shrugs. “You’ve lost the war, and nothing you can do will change that. But if I’m not mistaken, you still have an army under your command – and the person who is responsible for you losing everything would be within your reach, should you get out of this cell.”

Ravenia’s eyes spark. “So it isn’t your precious Alliance you are betraying. Just its leader.” She laughs again.

“I’m getting rid of a problem,” Shey replies coolly. “And you get the chance to get revenge before your death, so I don’t think you get to complain.” He brushes an invisible fleck of dust off his jacket. “Miryam and her husband are marching for the Erythrian Sea, the humans they freed in tow. They have only a small legion with them, less than the soldiers under your command, but they have ships arranged to transport them across the sea.” He shrugs. “Ships are terribly flammable, though, and these might just burn down before they reach them.”

“And I assume you’ve already arranged for someone to set the fire?”

“Me?” Shey laughs. “My people have no fire powers – unlike yours. The idea that I might be behind this seems outlandish, doesn’t it?”

A smile is tugging at the corner of his mouth, but he bites it down. Now is not the time to gloat, although he is rather proud of his plan. Initially, he had considered sending an assassin after Miryam, but that approach seemed far too risky. With assassins, there are always questions, and knowing these obnoxious mortals, one of them might just lay the blame at his feet. But if Queen Ravenia breaks out of her prison and ends up killing Miryam… well, who would ever think him involved in that? After all, she already has a motive, and no one will have reason to suspect anyone helped her flee her prison.

Shey tosses the key into the air once, then catches it. “A bargain,” he says, offering it to Ravenia again. “You get your revenge. All I’m asking in return is that you never let anyone know I helped you.

Something akin to disgust flickers over Ravenia’s face, there and gone in a moment. She hesitates briefly, fighting the pride that forbids her from doing Shey’s dirty work for him. Her thirst for revenge wins, though. “It’s a bargain,” she says, reaching for the key. Only when she has it safely enclosed in her fist does she look back at Shey. “You have even less honour than I thought,” she says.

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