#but i have done 4 attacks (soon to be 5) and only gotten 1 back this year which feels sad lol

[every-captain]

Not to be a little bitch bbut :C :C :C I only got attacked once on artfight this year and it was my boyfriend :C

[nootnootwook]

christmas cookies

pairing: zhang hao x fem!reader

genre: (childhood) best friends to lovers

in which: you and hao bake christmas cookies together even though you are both fire hazards in the kitchen.

warnings: reader chokes, kisses, lowercase intended !! in love and concerned hao, fluff fluff fluff, not proof read !!

series masterlist !!

“hao stop it!” you shout shielding yourself from the flour which is currently being thrown at you.

“nuh uh, this is payback!” your best friend says back while grabbing another handful of flour to throw in your face.

as of right now, you are about an hour into your baking experience with hao and it’s been eventful to say the least. in the time that you have currently spent trying to make cookies together you have:

1. remade the dough

2. dropped three eggs on the floor

3. got butter everywhere

4. remade the dough again

5. thrown flour at hao

6. finally put the cookies in the oven

7. gotten flour thrown at you

8. fallen even more in love with your best friend (and you didn’t even know that was an option)

to be completely honest you’ve been harbouring feelings for hao ever since you became friends when you were kids. he was just so charming even at the age of 5 (he gave you his spade in the sandbox) and you just couldn’t resist the cheeky little prince that the universe so graciously gave to you.

even now, at the ripe age of 23, the two of you continue your tradition of baking christmas cookies together without somehow burning the kitchen down and you just can’t seem to take your eyes off of your best friend.

he is always so kind and thoughtful towards you, although it may not show in times like this where he’s attacking you with flour, and with each passing day you find yourself falling for him more and more.

you wouldn’t exchange this for anything in the world. what more could you want during christmas other than laughing with your best friend (read; the love of your life) while making sugar cookies with christmas songs playing in the background and the fairy lights-

and apparently a coughing fit to interrupt the moment. (it turns out that breathing in flour isn’t the brightest idea.)

“woah are you okay?” you hear the laugh in hao’s voice immediately disappear as he puts down the bag of flour and runs over to you while patting your back. “i’m sorry i didn’t mean to make you choke” he says sheepishly as you catch your breath again. he fills up a glass of water and hands it to you.

“no it’s okay” you say while taking the glass. “thank you” you say after taking a sip. you look at hao only to find him staring back at you already. you notice he starts to move towards you holding out his hand which you soon feel resting on your flour-covered cheek.

he wipes away the tears which you didn’t realise have formed while you choked on the flour but doesn’t take his hand away while you stare into his eyes. his eyes flicker down to your lips momentarily as he starts leaning closer to you. you close your eyes and lean up towards him. you can almost feel his breath on your lips when-

beep beep

the cookies are done.

he immediately pulls away and you turn away from him thankful for the flour on your cheeks for covering the redness which has bloomed on your face.

“sorry, i’m sorry” he says and massages his neck. “you go and get cleaned up i’ll get the cookies” he says and you leave as quickly as possible.

you hop in the shower quickly to get rid of the flower in your hair. did that really just happen? did i really almost kiss my best friend.

that is all you could think about during your short shower along with what do you do next? do you bring it up? do you stay quiet? do you go up and kiss him?

despite all of your rushing thoughts you threw on one of the shirts hao gave you and walked back into the kitchen.

“the cookies are basically cooled now so we can decorate them soon” you heard hao say as if nothing had happened.

“oh that’s great” you said a bit disappointed that he decided to ignore the situation. you thought that maybe this could have finally been the time where you could have done something about your feelings for him. “you go clean yourself up i’ll get the decorations out” you said with a forced smile and he left the room but not before shooting you a slightly worried look.

you let out a small sigh after he left the room and your eyes teared up slightly at the thought of him basically rejecting you. you got all of the decorations for the cookies out and set them on the table. you blinked away your tears quickly as you heard him coming back into the room.

“i got all of the decorations so we can start now” you said trying to put a slightly cheery tone in your voice.

“finally, this is my favourite part” hao said with a smile.

now it’s been about half an hour of cookie decorating time and you decided that you want to tell hao about your feelings outright to get a straight answer.

you’ve come to your decision because these past thirty minutes have been filled with nothing but subtle and not-so-subtle touches from hao some of these consisted of:

1. his hand brushing yours while reaching for the sprinkles

2. him putting his arm around your shoulder while grabbing something on the other side of you

3. him holding you by your waist to move you over so he can stand where you stood

4. wiping icing from your cheek (and staring lovingly into your eyes)

so with the final cookie you had you wrote across it as neatly as you could in icing ‘i like you hao. christmas date with me?’ and waited for the right moment to give it to him.

what you failed to notice is how hao started at you the entire time you were decorating the last cookie. he saw what you wrote and smiled the widest smile anyone could have ever seen.

next thing you know you see a cookie being slipped towards you with ‘yes :)’ written on it messily. you look over at hao to find him staring at you yet again with nothing but love in his eyes.

you smile at him and burry yourself in his chest after putting your cookie down. he reciprocates the hug and wraps his arms around your waist.

“i cant wait to take you out” he whispers and you lift your head to look at him.

“i cant wait to go with you wherever you take me.” you say with a soft smile. “i’ll always be happy wherever you are. you press a light kiss to the corner of his lips and before you could even pull away hao places a hand on the back of your neck and pulls you back in for a proper kiss.

~~~

a/n: here is hao’s part of the series !!! i feel like the ending is slightly to short but hey ho what can you do

let me know how you are liking this so far !! all the support is appreciated thank you !!!

stay tuned for the next part let me know who i should write next !!!

library <3

[louisisalarrie]

i guess he’ll have to stop singing “i love him, i hate it” then. who else would it be about? simon cowell? like please.

This whole thing is weird, everything about it.

yep! Such an obviously timed denial that it’s basically transparent. I will reiterate my points here again, because this has frustrated me dearly as someone who is actively in the industry and has seen successful pr stunts and coverups. His team can’t crack the larries tho.

1. Timing - pre recorded denial dropped for promo as he left LATAM to go MIA before going back to tour in a few weeks + everyone will cool off by then

2. Urgency - there are no current media publications or any GP chats suggesting Louis and Harry are together, and there hasn’t been for a long time now, so there’s no damage control to be done (unless something hasn’t come out yet and it’s in preparation for said thing, BUA perhaps)

3. Content - drops the “my son Freddie” during it as well, boosting that stunt because it’s been pretty quiet since AOTV and a couple of tweets ages ago. again, no explicit denial and poor body language

4. Blacklisted Topic - we saw the other interviewer shut down the F thing, and he’s had many interviews where Larry and F aren’t brought up at all. It’s a topic put in there when it’s useful

5. Relevancy - not relevant to tour or current media presence whatsoever

6. Consistency - all interviews we have gotten recently have been strictly about his career, his festival, tour, inspirations etc., and we have one very personal and touchy topic randomly brought in with no context whatsoever

But I think what is making people stressed about this particular denial is because there was nothing calling for it. No media stir, no mentions of their names together or directly tied in media, no scandal or damage control (unless something breaks), so it seems more genuine and not just like he’s trying to clean up a mess like so many times before. But it’s also very obvious promo. Dropped as soon as he leaves LATAM? And everyone will cool off by the time he’s back. Absolutely standard and poorly done PR.

I don’t think managers know what they’re getting into when they start handling a 1d boy, frankly because our fandom is truly one of a kind. But, as much as I hate to say it, the Azoff’s have done what louis’ team should have done too. Stay silent about it, it’s not necessary to comment unless something big happens and it needs damage control. you’re only attacking your fans here, bud.

so, anyway… the patterns of every other denial have led to a BUA, a scandal, or their names being tied together and Larry being of public interest. Or have come from those things prior. However, this denial will probably pick up in the media, and tie louis’ name to Harry’s once more, to boost him a bit to sell some tickets.

everything was going so well, it was great to see him not talk about his personal life. so, it’s foreshadowing and a poor promo move, or just a poor promo move.

[oscurascout]

Y/N As A Doublegänger

From "That's Not My Neighbor" game

Note - Finally done! I feel like this chapter was a little fast (and it is) but oh well hope you guys enjoyed this series, I have something pretty cool prepare for September.

Part 11 End (Par 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10)

After that day, everything changed for the better. The doorman was captured and imprisoned. Not only had he been charged with allowing a doppelgänger in, but he was also held accountable for provoking and endangering the residents.

Now, a D.D.D. agent was the new doorman. Since my friends had to come out of hiding to stop me, they were also captured. Fortunately, thanks to the residents' petitions, they weren't killed and were instead released. As for me, I was placed under observation in a hospital, along with Angus and Franciss, since both had gotten hurt.

Fortunately, Angus and I were in the same room, mostly because he wouldn’t stop being a menace until he was placed with me. Steven visited often, trying to keep us updated, and to my surprise, even some of the other residents came by. Franciss, once he was able to move, would also come and stay in our room. I discovered that he was the first person I had attacked.

As the days went by, I made friends with the neighbors I had never interacted with before. Rafttellyn and Alf were kind enough to bring me some “get well soon” flowers and even did a mini tie party, while the Peachman brothers entertained us with stories about their shoe business, always filled with amusing anecdotes about their mini fights and arguments. Steven's dad, Mclooy, visited us as well; he is a very talkative man, always sharing tales of his youth and amazing adventures.

Time passed quickly, and soon I was fully healed, just like Angus and Franciss. Once the doctor gave me the release date, a D.D.D. agent entered the room, prompting the doctor to make a quick exit, leaving only the agent behind.

Agent - “Good to see that both of you are completely healed. Now, I will explain what is going to happen, and none of you can object or argue, alright?”

I nodded, but Angus nor Franciss did.

Angus - *smiling* “I’d like to hear what you have to say before I make a decision.”

Agent - *whispering* “A true businessman. *speaking normally* Alright, regarding the doppelgänger, not only did you hurt two residents and five D.D.D. agents, but you also caused some damage to the building. Because of that, you will be put in a program and continue pretending to be Y/N.”

“W-what!?” I exclaimed in surprise. I had expected them to lock me up, but the idea of going back was shocking.

Franciss - “What’s the catch?”

Agent - “Well, a D.D.D. member will have to stay in the building to ensure it's truly safe. But besides that, there are no real consequences; after all, it wasn’t entirely the doppelgänger's fault.”

“B-but why? I thought the D.D.D. agency would kill me or capture me,” I said, fidgeting with my fingers.

Agent - “Well normally we would, but there were a lot of petitions requesting your release, and thanks to the news, the story spread all around the world. It's the topic everyone is talking about, which worked in your favor. Additionally, you lasted two months without hurting anyone, which strengthens your case. The D.D.D. actually wants to experiment with you to see how a doppelgänger works and all that scientific stuff.”

Angus - “Experiment?”

Agent - “Well, sort of. It’s more like they want to conduct a few tests. You see, two months ago, the doppelgängers became much more aggressive, so they want Y/N's help to repel them or keep them at bay.”

“Well, either way, I don’t have a choice, so I might as well enjoy this outcome,” I said, a small smile forming on my face.

Angus - *worried* “Are you sure? I don't think those D.D.D. agents will hold back in their experiments.”

“Don't worry; I'm stronger than I seem,” I replied, showing my claws.

Franciss - “That's true. I experienced it firsthand.”

“I'm sorry!” I exclaimed, quickly covering my claws and feeling awful for what I had done to Franciss.

Agent - “Well, my job here is done. It was nice to see all of you looking better.”

Soon, the day came when we were finally released. We arrived at the apartment, and it didn’t look any different. I took a deep breath and entered.

As I stepped into my apartment, it was just as I had left it, but someone was there, a doublegänger. I quickly unsheathed my claws and was about to attack whoever it was when I was grabbed, even before I could do any real damage.

Hoon - *smiling* “Yup, this is how it was supposed to have been last time.”

“Hoon!” I exclaimed, quickly hugging him. I looked behind him and saw that everyone else was there too. “How are all of you here? Wait, how did you guys even get here?” I asked, surprised to see them.

Sticky - “The agent told us that we now live here. Well, not in this room, but like you, we were put under the same rules. Some others are in different buildings.”

Peach - *hugging me* “Peach!”

“It's nice to see you too! But wait, how did they find you? And what do you mean by living here?” I asked, still hugging Peach.

Hoon - “It's a bit of a long story, but in short, we were being followed, and we got discovered. Thanks to the news spreading everywhere, a lot of doppelgängers also gave up, hoping for the same outcome you had. So now the D.D.D. agency is creating a program to ‘rehabilitate’ doppelgängers. Though the other half of the doublegängers continue to fight and be against this change”

I was about to say something when Stitch covered my mouth, probably not wanting me to overthink things or ask any more questions. I smiled and looked behind Hoon, noticing half-eaten frozen dinners. “Time to show what I learned,” I thought smugly.

*Moving Stitch’s hand away* “Guys, that's not how you eat those dinners!” I said with a smile

Sticky - “What do you mean? You just need to open them, right?”

I smiled and began explaining how they should have eaten them. “You guys have a lot to learn, but don't worry; I'll help,” I said with a grin. They nodded, finally, we were truly safe.

[viera-may-in-emerdon]

Hunting the Stowaway Doll

"It took no expert to find that Tinies were afraid of storms. But nobody realised this carried over to Borrowers as well." - Harry Firth, 2034, On The Book Of Borrowers.

August 14th, 2040 (Page 1 i think)

Inaku.. To think she was out at the docks at this time of night. By now, she had become aware of human technology having advanced enough for cameras to see her fellow Borrowers as she watched a cart filled with her Borrower brothers and sisters moved to prison. Nowadays, Inaku was one of just 7 Borrowers left in the increasingly hostile land of Britain. She moved hastily, the storms unrelenting and each raindrop threatening her life as she ran for any safety, eventually managing to hide in a vessel.

August 15th, 2040 (Page 2?)

All Inaku could hope was that the storm passed before the vessel she was on took launch. She had snuck onto a cruise ship in hope of safety at the seas, only to hear over the intercom..

???: "One stowaway detected, likely a Borrower. Find them and capture them."

Inaku realised that she had messed up, though a few moments too late as the cruise ship was being tugged out to sea. Now, she had a defined goal on top of borrowing from the vessel: Survive. She assumed Borrowers were being put through extinction, a radical result from her lack of awareness in the news.

(Page 3)

"ike.. ike a." Inaku was a Borrower of many talents, but speech had never been one. She had adopted simplicity in the form of just words from toki pona, initially to hide her plans. No matter how well Inaku hid, that unforgiving storm and the crew always seemed to be just minutes behind her. As such, she was always on the move and it was already getting to her. But at least she was managing to borrow chunks of food from around places in the ship's upper decks.

August 16th, 2040 (Page 4 maybe???)

Inaku overheard a crew member, specifically the Captain.

"With the Borrower Rehabilitation, I only have a few days to find and help this poor Borrower. But until then.. Why are they always out at night?"

He was onto her.. And this was exceptionally bad news. She couldn't go out in the sun, her grey skin meant the sunlight was her lethal weakness. By now, the storm had subsided physically, so jan lanpan lili ike Inaku had some leeway.. But had it come in time?

Page 5

She was done with this. The humans were now able to trace just a minute behind her or were even in grabbing range. Attacking now would be suicide. But she was already trapped in the Cafeteria, in the night where she would have specialised. This was it.. She was suddenly picked up by a human. It was the captain again.

Captain: "Oh, my. You're the Borrower we've detected? You're quite the intriguing lass.."

Inaku never once responded, out of fear. The Captain held her quite gently, but tightly enough so she couldn't grab her sword.

Captain: "Oh, you.. can't speak? I think you'd make a fine addition to the Rehab.."

Page 6

Inaku always thought the Borrower Rehab plan was to kill off her kind, so she refused all co-operation. As soon as she was let go, Inaku slashed the Captain's hand and borrowed some blood to drink, before running out to the deck.

All she saw in that moment once she was on the deck was a blinding white. But she knew what that meant: Sun.

After seconds, she was already roasted unconscious and carried back inside.

August 17th, 2040 (Page 7 maybe? Idfk anymore)

For Inaku, waking up was agony.. She had almost gotten herself killed by accident by running out to the deck and now she paid the price. The Captain was still next to her, although he seemed worried.

Captain: "Hey, hey, don't panic.. I assume you're a Borrower with a sunlight allergy? You're a one-of-a-kind, you know that? Just.. Don't try what you did again, okay?"

For the Borrower, life was seemingly over to her own eyes. She failed to hide, meaning she failed the Borrower Code..

(Imma leave it at that.)

[jodilin65]

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 1990 I haven’t written in a while which I sometimes don’t. Last thing I see I wrote about was getting my hair trimmed. Linda trimmed my bangs and my top layer. My top layer was and still is pretty much fried with split ends. I have split ends everywhere. She was shocked at the weight I lost and how long my hair’s gotten. I haven’t seen her in 3 years or so. Linda hasn’t seen me at my skinniest though since I’ve gained 8 pounds. Funny thing is that it looks like I gained double, like 16 pounds. Of course, that’s cuz I’m so short. I no longer despise being short as I’ve realized the many advantages of being short as I’ve gotten older.

Andy’s here now asleep. He came over two nights ago, too. We made some calls this time. Last night we played Crazy 8’s which we haven’t done since we were kids at the beach. Also, we played the piano.

I’ll write later as I’m exhausted. For the last two months or so I’ve been sleeping at night, but I was up all night cuz I slept too many hours yesterday.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1990 I am waiting to have my hair trimmed at Hair Performance by Linda. My top layer is incredibly fried. Also, I need my bangs trimmed.

Brenda’s very sick today so I’m going to be going to Martha by bus and it is incredibly freezing out!

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1990 Well, I’m not going to be sleeping for a hell of a long time. I never got up yesterday till 9pm. I had woken up in the early afternoon but felt like shit so I went back to sleep. Not too much has happened since I last wrote. I’ve done some pretty nice drawings, been pissed at Russ cuz he’s got the heat off from 11pm–6am, been a little depressed cooped up at home and wanting to sing. Lastly, been frustrated and scared over my bronchitis.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 1990 I fell asleep shortly after 11 PM, after seeing the Tai Babilonia story, then at 1:45, I woke up for no reason at all. At least I didn’t wake up cuz of an asthma attack like I did yesterday morning and several previous mornings. I feel much better now and for the last 5 days, I’ve had 4-6 ciggies.

Soon I’m going to try to go back to sleep so I can join Andy on job-hunting trips. Not a job for me, for him of course, but it’ll get me out of the apt.

I’d like to sleep with Shadow, but he keeps waking me up.

I had a great visit with Tammy and the kids, and also a great day with Brenda. Sarah’s adorable and she’s got so much hair on her head. Everyone in the family was born with lots of hair.

John came over for a half-hour tonight and met Brenda and Bill.

Oh, I wish I knew my test scores! I want so badly to go to the academy. I suppose, though, I won’t be going for whatever reason cuz I want to go badly. Of course, that is until I can get anything going musically.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1990 Yesterday was awful. I was so pissed at Russ. For the last 5 mornings, during the wee hours of the morning, it was freezing. Later on between 7:00-11:00, it would turn into a sauna. I woke up for two reasons. One was the fucking radiator in the kitchen would clank so loud, you could probably hear it downtown. The other is that I’d have major asthma attacks due to it. It would get so hot in here that my windows would be wet. I yelled on Russ’s machine, asking what it’s gonna take for the heat to be evened out and he stopped up to adjust the thermostat. If this happens continuously, I’ll make partial rent payments and if he fights it he’ll wish partial rent problems were the only problems he’s had with me. Otherwise, he’s a nice guy and the best landlord I’ve ever had. He doesn’t do this deliberately, he just has no brains when it comes to heating.

Today, later on, I’m definitely gonna get the fuck outa this apartment. Where to, I do not know, but I’ve got to get out.

[umichenginabroad]

Post 1 (Week 0): Managing The Flight

Intro

Bonjour! This is Andrew, a rising sophomore here at the UofM. As you’ve probably already guessed, I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to come to Paris for a one-and-a-half month study abroad experience, and I’m here to tell you all about it! Quick note, I wrote a lottttt of stuff in this post, and it can get really boring, so feel free to just pick a section to read and skip along. Also feel free to just read this paragraph, it’s chill and all up to you!

This will be my first blog of the trip, and I will be beginning with the process of managing your flight. As an international student, flying has already been something I have done countless times; when some people simply hop into their cars and drive themselves home, I have to spend a LUDICROUS amount of money to pay for a HORRENDOUS 13 + 5 hour flight back to Taiwan just to see my dog. Ranting aside, what I really want to say here that I think will prove useful to those of you who are interested in pursuing a study abroad experience of your own is that there are many things that have to be taken into consideration when arranging your trip, especially your flight there. In this post, I’d like to focus on how you can (and should) prepare your transportation to whichever country you wish to visit, using myself as a terrible example for you to NOT follow~  (All photos used were taken by me so no credentials provided)

#1: Booking The Flight

Assuming that your destination is somewhere other than America, it is probably a very good idea to book your international flight at least 3~4 months before your projected departure date. I recommend using google flights to track ticket prices and book at the best time possible. Me personally, despite knowing this, booked my tickets a bit late, at around 2.5 months before my program start date. You might be thinking, “Well that’s still ok right?” It kind of is, but I forgot something really important. The Olympics are this year, and yes, they’re in Paris. Which means? Airlines become scammers and quadruple their prices. (Exaggerated, but still you get my point.) So I think the bigggg takeaway is that you should note any significant event, natural disaster, or things like political conflicts that may influence the prices of your plane tickets. Start doing this as soon as you decide to do a study abroad program, and you’ll be saving yourself some big cash, all while ensuring your own safety.

#2: Packing For The Trip

Traveling is very different from living at home. You can’t really bring everything with you, and you’re gonna have to choose which teddy bear comes with you and which stays in your room. My recommendation when it comes to determining what to bring is to look up checklists for packing. Yes, I know, so unoriginal, but hear me out. The people who make these lists don’t know who you are, what you do, or where you’re going. That’s why their lists only include things that are absolutely essential to ANY travel experience. An example of this can be seen here. Following these guides will ensure that you don’t get stranded in an airport, get sent back to America, or get yourself in messy situations abroad. After you’ve gotten all the essentials packed, you should still have plenty of space for other items. Now you can start throwing in your extra shoes, frisbees, idk, whatever you think you’re going to use during your trip. Checking things such as the weather, geography, and local culture could be very helpful when packing these non-essentials. Don’t be like me, bringing half my furniture and two thirds of my clothes just to have them sit in the suitcase the entire time. I kinda didn’t have a choice because I didn’t want to spend money on storage back at Ann Arbor, but still, try not to let yourself tow 80lb worth of junk around.

#3: The Actual Flight

Like I said, I’ve flown quite a few times. I still get panic attacks at the airport. “Where’s my passport? Where’s my gate? Did I pack a kitchen knife by accident (Don’t)? Where did I put my batteries???” So regardless of whether you’ve flown 100 times or never once flown, it’s normal to feel pressure at the airport. What’s not normal or okay is feeling like flying is just like a normal walk in the park, unless you’re fine with losing a passport or two when taking a stroll (you’re not). Some things that I recommend paying attention to when flying are as follows. First, have your passport(s) on you at all times. Whatever you lose, never lose your passport. Actually no, just try not to lose anything lol. I have a passport case that I always keep in my hoodie pocket, always in reach and felt. If you lose it or them, it’s kinda gg for you. Second, if you’re transferring flights, book them with at least 2~3 hours of layover time. I booked mine with 50 minutes of layover. Don’t do that. I repeat, DON’T do that. Whichever teacher who’s checking this post, I know what you’re thinking. “Wha-how-nahhhh, 100 bucks he didn’t make it.” I made it, but I’m thanking the airport god every day for this miracle. A quick note is that if you’re transferring from a domestic flight to an international flight and you booked your two flights together from the same airline, you “might” be able to just head straight over to the next terminal and hop onto your next plane. If you’re making an international flight before a domestic flight though, there will likely be a re-check-in and/or additional security check as you enter the new country, which will take up more time. Plan for the worst, which is the latter. I learned this the hard way, as I missed my second flight back to Michigan last year after a slight delay in my first. Almost missed the CFB Finals, wouldn’t have forgiven them if that happened. Finally, ask questions. Different airports have different layouts and security procedures, different airlines have different regulations and offers. It’s never a bad idea to make sure you’re doing the right thing, especially when something like a 1 lb overweight checked bag will set you back $200 for United Airlines(Really United?). That’s a lot of stuff, and I sound like a teacher, I know. But I hope these little unnecessary mistakes that I made won’t be a problem for any of you during your trips!

#4: Arriving At The Destination

Yay! I’ve finally arrived in Paris. I’m so excited to start my journey at my studio that’s a 35 minute drive away from the airport! More likely than not, you won’t be having or even be allowed to have a car when studying abroad, so transportation can be a big issue. First one you’ll need to take care of is your drive to where you’ll be living. In my case, CEA CAPA, the study abroad program, was very helpful and arranged transportation services for students who arrived within a certain time frame (I believe roughly between 8:00 and 18:00 on 05/13), but that may be different for other people. Make sure you won’t be stranded at the local airport after finally making your way there because trust me, you won’t have the energy to worry about too much after your long travel session. After my flight to Paris, I struggled to find the CEA CAPA driver, and therefore had to call the emergency contact line, which successfully helped me resolve the issue. This is all thanks to a pre-bought e-sim from orange travel that allowed me to use my French number as soon as we set foot on Parisian soil. Finally, after all that work, and of course after making sure my luggage was with me, I was able to safely make it to my studio. Now, the fun starts! 

Hsien-Cheng Chou (Andrew Chou)

Mechanical Engineering

Engineering in Paris

[zafirosreverie]

Must be the eyes (Teacher!Agatha x Fem!Student!Reader) part 5

(Part 1) (Part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

a/n: I’m sorry if this is a little rushed, i did what i could with my laptop freezing at all times.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

You jumped when your phone beeped with a message. You quickly grabbed it from the bed, where you had carelessly thrown it. It was from Nick.

"Meet me in the lobby”

You frowned slightly. What could he want at this hour? Probably tease you a little more. You rolled your eyes fondly.

During the whole tour, he hadn’t been able to tease you as usual. From the moment the two of you caught up with the group, your teacher's hand was firmly positioned on your lower back and when you entered the library, she was never too far away, so any joke Nick might have made would have reached her ears. And during dinner, the teachers' table had been right behind yours, conveniently.

"I'll be there in 5" you answered quickly, before putting the phone in the pocket of your shorts and smoothing your shirt again. You tied your hair in a messy bun and grabbed your purse. You didn't want to pay attention to the way your pulse was racing, or the voice in your head telling you that you were going on a date.

Because no, you were definitely not going on a date!

"Oh, are you ready?" asked a voice from the bathroom door.

For a moment you had forgotten about the other person in the room (well, not about her, but that she was there at the time). You turned to see your teacher leaning against the doorframe, in dark pants and a three-quarter-sleeve blouse. She looked so casual, so relaxed. It was a beautiful sight.

"Umm y-yeah" you stuttered "I'll wait for you downstairs. I'm going to the lobby with Nick" you explained

"Jadu?" Agatha frowned, quickly feeling a twinge of jealousy "Mister Jadu should already be in his room" she said.

"W-well, I'm sure he'll be soon, he just wanted to tell me something. Could be important" you said nervously.

It was strange how the woman could change her attitude so quickly. A few seconds ago she had been so relaxed, as if the two of you had been living together for a long time (you blushed at the thought. You did not live together!) And now, she was the living image of a beast about to attack.

"Fine" she said after looking at you for a few more moments "I'll catch up to you there"

You nodded quickly and left the room in a hurry. As much as you wanted to, now you couldn't turn a blind eye, you knew Nick was right. Harkness was acting weird.

____________

Agatha sighed when the door closed behind you. She mentally cursed herself for scaring you like this. She shouldn't be jealous of you, she shouldn't want to control what's going on around you, and she shouldn't want to be by your side for as long as possible.

Shouldn’t. It was a word that she had been repeating many times in the last three days.

"Maybe, I shouldn't have done all of this" she murmured.

The original plan was simple: take you to Salem, see you happy, go back, keep seeing you from afar through the hallways of the school, the end. But you had managed to complicate everything from the moment you were late, making her panic.

Then you had fallen asleep on her, making her feel nervous, you had managed to be sacrificed as an offering for her, sharing a room and making her doubt her own self-control, then you had gotten into her dreams, making her do things that she really didn't want to think about right now (there was no time for another trip to the bathroom, thank you very much) and now you were simply torturing her, rubbing in her face everything you could do with that little friend of yours that you couldn't do with her, making her feel terribly jealous of something that didn't even belong to her.

And still, she couldn't help but want to be close to you. She wasn't blind, she knew exactly how you felt about her, and even though she was still struggling with morality and shit, she also wanted to see where all of this took you both.

"Well, nowhere if I don't hurry up" she murmured, taking her purse and leaving the room.

___________

"Sooooo" Nick smiled at you, making you roll your eyes for the fifth time in the last five minutes.

"It’s not a date" you said for the third time "She will only take me to the antique store because it isn’t on the itinerary"

"How strange" he said sarcastically "I don't remember hearing her invitation ... Oh wait! She didn't invite us! She will only take her favorite student, with whom she shares a room, and from whom she hasn’t taken her eyes off, to a night walk through the city, so that you can visit a store that you wanted so much to go to. Yes, totally not a date" he rolled his eyes

"Well, I can ask her to let you come with us if you want" you said, blushing

"No, no" he laughed "I'm not going to piss off the kraken"

"Nick"

"I'm serious. I mean, I don't get along with her as well as you do, princess, but I want to think that I'm not on her list of students to murder. And something tells me that being a third wheel in her, 'not a date', would make me top that list" he laughed "so no, thanks, but no thanks princess"

"You are exaggerating, you know?" you laughed

"Yes yes, you call it exaggeration, I call it knowing how to choose my battles. And believe me, we all know that making Harkness angry is a losing battle and a suicidal desire"

"You make her sound like a serial killer" you rolled your eyes

"You never know" he shrugged "talking about the queen of Rome, here she comes" he told you in a low voice, subtly pointing to someone behind you.

You turned to see the brunette walking towards you with a smile that seemed a bit forced. You couldn't help but notice the sway of her hips.

"Well, I better go" Nick whispered "don't forget to bring me something" he winked at you.

She saw him rush past the older woman, giving her a little goodnight, which she only answered with a slight nod of the head. 

You saw your best friend disappear into the elevator, before paying attention to the woman in front of you.

"Everything alright?" she asked

"Y-yes Miss Harkness" you said

"So, was it important?" she pressed

"What?" you frowned confused

"The matter why you had to meet him here" she said she "didn't you say it might be important?"

You blinked a little at that. You hadn't thought that she really cared about what you said. It was a pleasant surprise, truth be told, it made you feel special and warmed your cheeks.

"Well he just wanted to make sure i bought him something" you lied.

The woman didn’t seem convinced, but she didn't say anything more on the subject. Smiling, she offered you her arm.

"Then we better go" she said she "we must find something for Mister Jadu, right?"

You giggled at that before nodding and, against your better judgment, you entwined your arm through hers.

Agatha smiled at this, unable to help but feel butterflies in her stomach, a quite refreshing and welcome feeling after the hot wave of jealousy that had washed over her when she stepped off the elevator and saw you so close to Nicholas.

______________

You tried to ignore the blush that was spreading across your face and neck when you walked into the store. You had thought that maybe you would take a taxi or something, but the brunette had told you that the store was not far away, so there was no point in taking a taxi when you were perfectly capable of walking there.

What she hadn't told you was that she wasn't going to let go of you. Sure, you linked your arm with hers, but you thought she would let you go when you got into a taxi. You didn't expect to find yourself walking to an antique store, arms intertwined with your crush, at night.

"How romantic" you thought sarcastically. Well, you could at least tell Nick that it was definitely not a date.

Your train of thought, however, stopped the moment you took a look at the shelves. There were old books, antique dolls, lamps, clocks, paintings, chairs, statues, among other things. You felt like a little girl in a toy store.

Agatha smiled at your look of astonishment. Your lips were slightly parted, you weren’t blinking and your eyes had a special shine that the brunette had never seen. Almost like a girl looking at the presents under the tree on Christmas day.

You looked so cute that she didn't care that you let go of her arm to get deeper and deeper into the place (although she immediately missed your warmth). She followed you carefully, not wanting to miss out on any of your reactions to the artifacts in front of you.

"I had one of those when I was little" you said suddenly, pointing to a beautiful porcelain doll.

Agatha looked at it for a moment. It had white skin, with black curlers tied in a half ponytail and a large purple bow. The dress, although worn and a bit dirty, still retained a bit of its purple color and the elegance of its original design.

But it was her face that had caught your attention the most. She had flushed cheeks, red lips (albeit a bit faded), and long eyelashes. And her eyes...her eyes were two big beautiful blue orbs.

"She looks like you" you said, smiling at the woman next to you

Agatha was a bit surprised and felt a rush of nerves when you stepped closer to her so she could see the doll better. It was true, it looked a bit like her.

"I guess so" she smiled at you

"I like her" you whispered.

The woman gasped silently, looking at you intently. You weren't looking at her, but at the doll in your hands, but something inside her, maybe a selfish part of her, told her that you were talking about her. And for the sake of her heart, she would hold on to that belief, regardless of your next words:

"T-the doll" you clarified quickly, cursing you for being so clumsy "I like the doll" you said, smiling nervously at her.

"Why?" she asked "Most people find them creepy”

“I don’t know” you shrugged “Must be the eyes” you smiled.

Agatha smiled back at you, but she didn't say anything. Suddenly feeling very exposed under her gaze, you set the doll back in place, before turning awkwardly to continue staring at the other shelves.

"Aren't you going to buy her?" the brunette asked, making you look at her again

"...no" you said "She’s beautiful, but too expensive for me. I prefer to save a little for other things that we can find in the following tours. It wouldn’t be smart of me to spend all my money on the third day, right?" you joked lightly.

Agatha however, noticed the look you gave the doll before turning around. You wanted it, of that she was sure.

______________

"My grandmother had one of those" you laughed

"Well, your grandmother had good taste then" replied the brunette, holding the locket in front of you.

"I suppose there is a certain beauty in it" you admitted, taking it carefully, smiling when the woman winked at you.

"Old is beautiful, Y/N" she said

"Much" you smiled and winked at her. You both knew that you weren't exactly talking about the necklace in your hands.

In the hour and a half that you had been there, something had changed between the two of you. It had started with something subtle, probably since the moment you said you liked the doll that reminded you of your teacher, but then it was an innocent comment about how beautiful a brooch looked in her, a hand on your back encouraging you to try on a necklace, a warm breath on your neck as she approached you from behind to see books over your shoulder. And without realizing it, you had been exchanging somewhat flirtatious comments with the older woman.

Nothing serious, you told yourself, but enough to feel like your relationship had changed. As if you had become closer.

"Well, I think I have everything" you said, separating a little from her

"Are you sure?" she told you "What about the gift for Mr. Jadu?"

"Here" you smiled, showing her the quartz necklace that you had chosen for your best friend.

"Excellent" she said to you "Why don't you pay and wait for me outside?

You shrugged and watched her get lost between the shelves. You paid for your things and left the store, shaking a little. It wasn't cold, but you needed a bubbly presence by your side.

__________

The next morning, there was no sign of the older woman. You frowned at that, but you guessed that she had simply gotten up before you, she was probably already in the dining room or waking up the rest of your classmates for breakfast.

You took a moment to remember the night before and how special it had made you feel. Too bad the spell had been broken as soon as you left the store.

You had asked her what was in the box she came out with, but she hadn't answered. In fact, she hadn't spoken to you the entire way back to the hotel. It was weird, but you hadn't minded because she had re-entwined her arm with yours anyway, so you were sure she wasn't upset with you.

______________

"So how was the no date?" Nick asked, immediately after sitting down across from you

"Great, they had very interesting things" you said

"Oh come on Y/N, give me the juicy details"

"There are no 'juicy details' Nick" you rolled your eyes "as you said yourself, it was not a date. We just went to an antique store and voila"

"Liar" he said "there had to be something! She took you by the hand? She pushed you against a shelf and kissed you?"

"Nick!" you hit him on the head

"Ouch" he said "Hey, don't be so aggressive"

"Don't be such an idiot" you said "Nothing happened. Period"

"Okay" he sighed in defeat "did you at least bring me something?"

"Yes, but I don't think you deserve it" you said

"Oh, come on!" he groaned "You don't give me juicy details and you’re also going to take my gift from me? Dark magic is corrupting you, Y/L/N"

You laughed at that, almost spitting out the juice you were drinking.

"You are an idiot" you said

"But?" he smiled at you and raised an eyebrow

You rolled your eyes "But, you are MY idiot" you said. You took the quartz necklace out of your pocket and threw it at him "Here, cry baby"

"Woah" he said, catching it in midair "Awesome, a rose quartz! Thank you princess"

"Yes, yes, you're welcome" you said "now, be a good slave and bring me more fruit, will you?"

"Right away, my lady" he winked at you and stood up.

You were so busy laughing at him, you didn't notice the brunette behind you getting up and leaving the dining room quickly.

______________

Agatha felt her hands shaking as she placed the package on your bed. She wasn't sure if she should, maybe she was crossing a line, maybe she had misinterpreted the signals. But last night she had seen a side of you that she didn’t know.

In that store, you had stopped being the tender and shy student who was always nervous for the presence of her teacher, and you were transformed into a playful and flirtatious creature that had made her legs tremble.

She hadn't expected you to flirt back, but she loved it and now she wanted more.

"But this" she whispered, looking at the gift on your bed "Will it be too much?"

She was breaking the agreement that she had made with herself. It was not night, and only the nights belonged to her. Leaving you a gift in broad daylight was against the rules.

Fortunately, Agatha Harkness was a woman who made her own rules.

_________________

You opened the door to your room quickly, counting in your mind the seconds it took. You were only back for a pair of sunglasses and your wallet. You were about to leave again when you noticed the box on your bed.

"What is this?" you murmured, moving closer to it.

How did you not notice a box in the middle of your bed as soon as you entered? You didn’t know.

You took the card that was on top of the box, blushing immediately when you recognized the fine handwriting.

"You keep surprising me with your ability to love broken creatures, Miss Y/L/N, but I suppose you're right. It must be the eyes -A.H."

You opened the box and couldn't help but smile as a familiar warmth ran through you and butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

A pair of glass blue eyes stared at you as you hugged the doll and you wished you could hug the woman who looked like her too.

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

Tags: @midnight-lestrange @everythingmarvelsherlockspn @amethyst-bitch @juliejules-089 @powerfulmagicalgirl @novohyde @annie-mit-ie @shinkomiii @agentbrownierso @swanqueensupercorp @usernames-are-difficult @philippaharkness @rainbow-hedgehog @parkerprolly @amelia02 @misarwen25 @booklovinbi @bloodyfool @marvelseverything @superpearlnerd @rooskaya-yelena @danvers97 @notsosecretlyalesbian​ @thoroughly--confused​ @tomy5girls​

[neoculturetravesty]

We met in online class - Part 7

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language, descriptions of a shiner, a character gets Covid-19 Word Count: 7.3k

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | You are on Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Last Part

A/N: I’m sorry for all the angst, you guys.

You only stop walking when you’re out of the apartment building. Eyebrows scrunched, face scowled like you were trying to hold onto the anger. But the more you had walked, the more you had realized that you couldn’t hold onto something that wasn’t there in the first place. It would be like holding onto smoke: futile and baseless. You weren’t angry. You stop moving to just breathe for a moment. And as the cool night air hits your face, you get a little more clarity in your thoughts. No, you weren’t angry. Not really.

Suddenly, you find yourself smiling to the sky and scoffing. Oh, how stupid. How stupid and how typical. This was classic you. Only this time, you couldn’t believe you had fallen for the broody artsy boy type. The kind of boy that blew hot and cold. The kind of boy that would keep you on edge and never like you as much as you liked him. God, you were such a cliché. Fuck, how embarrassing. So no, you weren’t angry. You were embarrassed. You had spent the last few weeks simping over a boy that never really liked you. God, you were so stupid.

‘The only reason I’ve kept you around for so long is because I wanted to get to your brother.’ His voice echoes in your head. 

Your friends had told you that you were doing way too much for a boy you weren’t even official with yet. You had literally spent the past couple of weeks running to him to dote on him. Bringing him food and checking up on him even though you were drowned in work, and making sure he was okay. And all this time, he had been using you. Oh, God. You were like the embarrassing second female lead in every drama ever. The kind that would bring cartons of milk to her crush in the hopes that he would like her back. Only you had actually believed that he liked you back. Oh, how embarrassing. 

‘Y/N, you are not my girlfriend. So stop acting like it.’

Oh, how freaking embarrassing. You had been acting like the girlfriend. But you had been the second female lead all along. 

You groan and make yourself keep walking. You didn’t want to be near his building anymore. Not where he could step out any moment and humiliate you some more for reading the signs all wrong. You keep walking as your phone keeps ringing. You don’t pick up. You wanted to put as much space between yourself and the building as possible. You walk and you walk till you reach the bus stop. And then you finally sit and take your phone out.

There are around 8 missed calls from Haechan as well as a string of texts. You sigh and hail a cab from an app before you get the spirit to read his messages.

‘Y/N, please pick up.’

‘Where are you???’

‘I can’t find you. Where are you???’

‘Pick uppppp’

‘Can you at least tell me where you are?’

‘I’m calling Yeri.’

That’s Haechan’s last message and you let out another groan. Why did he have to call Yeri? She was going to be worried for no reason. She was already under so much stress with her thesis. You didn’t want her to sit in the apartment and have all sorts of thoughts going through her head about what happened to you. So you text him back.

‘I’m just going home. Don’t worry.’ you write back. Not even ten seconds pass by before he replies.

‘How? You don’t even have your car! And you’ve been drinking.’

‘I called a cab. Don’t worry.’

‘Y/N, please tell me where you are? Let me take you home.’

‘The cab’s already here, Haechan. It’s fine. I’ll text you when I get home.’ you say as you get into the car.

‘No way. Share your location.’

‘The cab’s already moving.’

‘Okay, but share your live location so I know you’ve safely gotten home.’

You sigh and give into his wish. ‘Happy?’

‘I’ve shared it with Yeri as well.’

You groan again, making the cab driver give you a quizzical look through the mirror. ‘Haechan, please don’t bother Yeri.’

‘Text me as soon as you get home. I’m coming over first thing in the morning.’ 

‘Okay.’ you reply and sigh again, resting your head against the window because it felt like the sort of thing to do in this situation. But it only makes your temple awkwardly rattle against the glass as the car moves. How did people do this in dramas? Look so elegant as they pensively looked out the window? Because right now, you neither felt elegant, nor pensive. You just felt stupid. You feel your phone buzz again and see another text from Haechan.

‘You’re my best friend and I love you to the moon and back. Nothing changes that, okay?’ the message reads and suddenly, you feel tears brimming in your eyes. That’s the first time he had called you that. What a stupid boy he was, Lee Donghyuck. Why did he have to attack you like that with all the feels? Silly boy. Well, at least there was something that came out of this mess. 

How had you been so stupid? Renjun had practically told you of his motives on the very first date. He had told you that his lifelong wish was to get into Midnight fucking Arthouse. And instead of staying away, you had run to your brother the very same day to fulfil that wish. The thought chases away the tears that Haechan’s text had brought. You were so stupid. Even your brother had warned you.

“Y/N, I don’t trust his eyes.” Doyoung had told you that afternoon at the party. And you had laughed at him.

“What does that even mean?” you had rolled your own eyes at him, because really, you were watching Renjun into the distance as he talked to another artist. God, he looked so handsome, you had thought as you ogled.

“He just seems like he’s hiding something. He just seems like a guy who would have something to hide.” your brother had warned you and you had just laughed and joked it away.

“I mean, sorry to break it to you like this, big brother, but he’s a serial killer by night. The art student stuff is just for show because when people aren’t looking, his ass goes full Joe Goldberg in You.” you had teased your brother who had exhaled long and put his arm around you.

“Fine, fine. Don’t trust your big brother. Do what you want. I just don’t like him for you.” Doyoung had cut it out for your sake and you had cuddled into him happily because you were so giddy that day. Nothing could’ve spoiled your mood then because the boy you liked had just kissed you. He had held your hand and held your face and kissed you and kissed you and kissed you.

“Of course you don’t like him for me. You won’t like anyone for me because you’re my big brother.” you had baby-talked at Doyoung and cuddled him till he had ruffled your hair and pushed you away.

God, you were so stupid. Did everyone know but you? Could everyone see how he’d been using you? Had your crush on him really been so bad that it blinded you? Oh, how embarrassing. How fucking embarrassing. Well, at least the two of you weren’t official yet. That was a plus. Otherwise, there would’ve been a break up involved. Then again, that would mean that Renjun liked you enough to make you his girlfriend. Or that he would have gone so far as to exploit you like that. Would he have done it? You don’t even want to think about it.

You were fine, really. This was okay. It’s good that he cleared that you weren’t his girlfriend. This whole situation would’ve been sillier if the two of you were official. You chuckle as you enter the elevator of your building. You were fine. Everything that had happened was just a silly misunderstanding. You had just read the signals all wrong. You knock your knuckles on your head. Silly you. It was just a silly crush. You had just chased a boy you had a crush on and it hadn’t worked out. There was nothing wrong with that. These sorts of things happened all the time. You were fine. 

But Renjun hadn’t been just a boy.

He had been the boy of your dreams. He had been the boy that had smiled at you over his coffee cup on your first date and you had felt that he looked into your soul. He had been the boy who would wait outside your lecture hall with the most hopeful look in his eyes and you would melt because he wore that look for you. He had been the boy who had laid his head on your shoulder and opened his heart to you and you had thought that you would do everything it takes to give him the world. He had been the boy that had held your hand and made you feel so incredibly safe that day at your parent’s house that you had found yourself falling. He had been the boy who had taken you in his arms and kissed you so sweet that you had felt like flying. He had been the boy who would lay out in the sun next to you and you’d think that everything was alright. 

Renjun hadn’t been just some boy you had chased. You couldn’t lie to yourself like that anymore, even though you were trying. He had been the boy you had given your heart to. 

You don’t realize that your feet had carried you all the way home till you look up to the door opening on it’s own. And Yeri is standing there like she was expecting you.

“Haechan called me.” she says and you have no idea what she sees on your face because she says “Baby…” in the softest voice before she grabs her Lysol concoction and starts spraying you carefully.

You stand there in the doorway, watching her as she sprays at your feet and takes your shoes off for you with so much love. You don’t know what it was about seeing her face. But anytime you did, all your walls came tumbling down. You could never hide from her.

She looks up at you and whatever she sees makes her speed up her sanitizing ritual. And you realize your shoulders are shaking. You feel the wetness on the tops of your cheeks. You feel the scrunching between your brows. You hear your breath coming out in sniffles. It probably looks like the strangest scene in the world. You, standing there unmoving, looking at her as you crumble in the doorway. And her looking back at you worried, and hurriedly soaking you in Lysol.

Yeri takes your hands in hers and sanitizes them, then takes your purse from you while you do nothing but just stand there, looking at her. She takes your jacket off and then your mask and then finally kisses your cheek and pulls you into her arms. She holds you and kisses your forehead and strokes your hair.

“You will always have me, okay?” she tells you and this time, you’re fully aware that you’re sobbing. Because she puts an arm around you and walks you to your room. She lets you cry as she takes your makeup off for you and brushes your hair. And you watch her attending to you with so much love in her eyes, that for a moment, you’re not sure what’s making you cry. Your broken heart, or her pure, unadulterated love for you.

For as long as you could remember, this girl had been there for you through all your highs and lows. She hadn’t just been a friend. She had been more like a sister. Come to think of it, she had been more a parent to you than your actual parents. You could never hide from her. So when she puts you to bed, you cuddle into her and cry when you tell her,

“I really liked him, Yeri.” Because what was the use of lying to yourself or anyone else? You liked him. You had unabashedly, completely and without any sort of a restraint given him your whole entire heart. And he had broken it. This was something that had happened. So why would you deny it? You had been hurt so you were going to cry to your heart’s content. That’s what people do when they have been hurt.

“I know, baby girl.” she strokes your hair and holds you and kisses the top of your head and your eyes go to your nightstand. You see things that would look like trash to other people. But to you they were the most important treasures.

A paper napkin folded up into an origami crane. Renjun had made it on your very first date.

A can of coke, flattened and leaned against your nightlight. Renjun had drunk from it the first time he came over to your apartment.

A scrap of paper taken from a notebook in a photo frame. Renjun had doodled on it one day as you two had waited for class to begin.

A daisy, pressed and preserved in a little glass disc. Renjun had randomly plucked it from the grass and given it to you as you two had lazed about. It was the first flower he had given you.

God, you were such a sentimental hoe. This boy had broken your heart and you had kept his trash in your room, right on your nightstand so his would be the last thought on your mind as you went to sleep. Realizing that just makes you cry more.

“It’s okay, baby. Your heart’s been broken so you’re going to cry. It’s okay to cry.” Yeri coos at you, echoing your own thoughts. But somehow hearing it from her makes it more soothing. She was right. You had liked a boy and he had broken your heart. It had happened. You were going to cry. 

So you laid in Yeri’s arms and let her comfort you. Even Galbi the asshole had joined your pity party as he sat on top of your head and purred, as if he realized you needed comforting and all the purring was going to heal whatever hurt you were feeling. You laid and you cried and you cried till you were all cried out and sleep was taking you.

“That is a shiner.” you say, eyes wide.

“Mhmm. It’s my mark of honor.” Haechan smiles his smug, annoying smile as he leans back in his chair.

The library was emptier than usual, because really, exams were over for most students. So people that lived in and around campus were basically using it as a common room.

“I mean, it’s a shiner as big as I’ve ever seen.” you say, leaning over and lightly tracing the hues of red, purple and black under your friend’s eye. And he just sits there, chin jutting out, smiling broad, proudly allowing it to be touched like a trophy.

“It’s the outcome of me being the biggest little shit, so it goes with the vibe.” Haechan says and you make a face at him.

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took someone so long. Lowkey impressed that you’ve avoided these so far, despite being that professional little shit.” you lightly press the pad of your index on a particularly discolored area and watch as he moves away.

“Guess I’d just been looking for the right reason to get one.” he says, still wearing the smug look on his face. But he must have noticed a change in your expression because he gives you a look of disapproval. 

“Hey, stop that.” he snaps at you.

“Stop what?” you retort defensively.

“Stop it with those sad puppy eyes. I don’t like it.” he almost scolds.

“I’m only sad because it’s making you look uglier than usual.” you reply pouting.

“Please. It’s making me look sexier than usual.”

“If ugly was the new sexy, then sure.”

“Yo, he’s not ugly, he’s just not in his moment right now.” he pouts and nothing on Haechan’s face says that he’s joking which somehow makes it funnier.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” you wanna smack him on the head.

“It means that you need to give it till tomorrow to finally see it in it’s full bloom.” he says with the most satisfied look on his face but it deflates you. Shit. This wasn’t even the worst of it. He was probably going to look worse in the next couple of days.

Haechan sighs because you figure he finally sees that this conversation isn’t exactly making you feel any better. So he addresses the elephant in the room.

“He’s an asshole.” he says simply.

“Haechan…” you stop him because honestly, you didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, especially not with him. You didn’t want to be that person that makes mutual friends pick a side. Besides, Renjun had been right. They were technically his friends. But they were also your friends. This was a hot mess already and you didn’t want to add to it.

“I’m only saying it because it’s true. But, also, Y/N…” he’s taken your nickname and his voice has suddenly gone small and so apologetic that you look up, just to check if he’s the one talking. Your stupid friend had a way of never reading the room and keeping up his joking antics no matter the circumstance. So hearing his voice do that got your attention to say the least.

“I, uh…” he goes on and he looks like he’s uncomfortable, like he’s trying to find the words to break some bad news. “He’s an asshole and all, but… I’m kind of the one that put that idea in his head in the first place.” he fesses up and finally meets your eyes.

You jump a bit as you see a strong arm reach over your shoulder and set down a coffee cup on the table with a resounding thud. Jeno has appeared as if on cue and he now has those arms crossed over his chest as he pins Haechan down with a death stare.

Haechan looks up at his audience of two and decides to address the boy that stands there looking like he would most likely complete his shiner set. “I just told him Y/N was Kim Doyoung’s sister! You know he had been dying to get into Midnight Arthouse! And Y/N was the one that asked him out! Didn’t you, Y/N?” he looks at you with eyes that plead for help “I only told him he should accept her date, I promise. But yes, it was my stupid idea and fuck, I wish I could take it back. I’m an idiot and I deserve whatever you want to do to me, Y/N.” he holds his hands up as if in surrender as he watches Jeno’s cold expression and your unreadable one. 

You reach your hand over towards him and watch as he closes his eyes and braces to perhaps be punched in the face again. But you don’t punch him. You ruffle his hair.

“Don’t do it again, okay?” you scrunch your nose at him and give him a smile to put him out of his misery.

Heachan lets out a long, dramatic exhale that finally matches his true personality. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” he says, actually crossing his heart over his chest and he looks up at Jeno to seek his forgiveness as well. 

Jeno’s expression has softened and he’s smiling, almost as if he had expected this confession and its outcome. He was always more perceptive than he let on. Although his arms are still intimidatingly crossed over his chest as he says

“Follow me to the rooftop, Lee Donghyuck.” 

“Yes, yes, I know I deserve it, because I know she’s your childhood friend. But she’s my best friend now and if she’s forgiven me, then--”

“--you’re a piece of shit.” Jeno declares and takes a seat next to you, laying out the rest of the breakfast he got. You snigger and hug onto his arm, as if to thank him for... everything. You and Jeno had never been one to talk things out, but an advantage of being friends for so long was that you didn’t have you. He would understand what you mean, even though all you’d done was held and leaned into his arm.

Haechan looks at the two of you fondly and waits a couple of beats. His voice is soft and empathetic when he says, “He probably didn’t mean those things he said, you know? He was drunk.”

“We were all drunk.” you agree, tracing your finger over your coffee cup.

“He’s an asshole, but… he likes you, you know?” Haechan says and suddenly, you can’t look anybody in the eye anymore. You don’t want to say anything either, because you’re afraid your voice would give you away. 

So you purse your lips and take a deep breath before you say “Yeah, well… it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“I’m going to kick his stupid ass.” Haechan mutters but it only makes Jeno chuckle.

“You mean when you’re not too busy getting your ass kicked by him?” he pokes fun while he feeds you a bit of his croissant. And despite everything, you find yourself laughing out loud.

“Hey! I could totally take him down if I wanted to. I was just holding back.” Haechan puffs his chest and Jeno smiles wider, shaking his head.

“Ugh, you know what. We’re on semester break. We’ve literally been waiting for this time. Let’s just chill before I have to leave.” you declare.

Haechan snaps and points his finger at you. “That is the right attitude, Y/N L/N.”

After that, he goes on and on, talking nonstop about everything you could do while you didn’t have classes, doing the most to make it up to you. You listen to him fondly as you happily enjoy breakfast with your friends.

Down the rows, Renjun had walked into the hall, hoping the library could be his sanctuary for the day. How very wrong he was. Because now, he just watched into the distance as you reach out to ruffle Donghyuck’s hair and Jeno smiles down at the two of you. Unbelievable. Renjun turns on his heel right away and leaves. Because this was unbelievable. 

How come Lee Donghyuck came out of this situation unscathed? It was his stupid idea to begin with. Renjun had been happy living his life normally till Donghyuck encouraged him to date you. So how come neither you nor Jeno were mad at him? Renjun was the only one that came out of this as the bad guy. And everyone else just continued on to be one big happy fucking family.

Last night, Jisung had left to stay over at Chenle’s, and Renjun assumed it was so he didn’t have to be in the same room as him. He hadn’t seen Jeno, and it was probably because he had woken early morning to have breakfast with you. The only one of his friends that Renjun saw this morning was Jaemin. But the only thing he had said before he walked out the door was that he was spending the day with his girlfriend and won’t be home either. 

It seemed like everyone around him was doing their best to avoid him. He felt like a dementor. Like he was putting out lights wherever he went. Like he was draining hope, peace and happiness out of everyone that came in contact with him. That’s perhaps why his friends wanted to stay away from him.

There was maybe some advantage to that. Renjun wanted to be alone. You had pretty much stolen all his friends. It was clear that they had taken your side in all of this. No one had wanted to know what Renjun was going through. But they were all too concerned about the poor little rich girl. It’s why they were with you this morning and not him. Poor little rich girl that got her heart broken by Renjun the asshole. Of course, no one would want to know the other side of the story, Renjun thinks bitterly.

What was the other side of the story, anyway? That you had been too kind to him? That you had been thoughtful and understanding? That you made so much effort to be a part of his life, and he had made none? That you had put a word in with your brother right after you had first met Renjun, before your relationship had even begun? 

You had done everything in your power to make Renjun look like the bad guy. And he realizes that this was precisely the reason he never wanted to look at you ever again. Renjun feels nothing but bitterness in his heart. He had spent all those weeks exploiting your feelings for him. Making you believe that he was interested in you so he could get close enough that you would introduce him to your brother. But all of it had been for naught. Because you didn’t need a relationship or a reason to be kind to people. You had just heard Renjun’s dream and fulfilled it that very same day you had met him. You had granted him his biggest wish whilst wanting nothing in return, expecting nothing back. You had put him in your debt. And he hated you for it.

Renjun needed a break. Because his life seemed to be throwing him more curveballs than he could possibly manage. He wanted to reverse it all. Go back to the time when he hadn’t met you. He should’ve turned you down during that ill-fated online class. Then none of this would’ve happened. 

But almost as if the heavens wanted to give him a cruel reminder that all of it, in fact, had happened and he, in fact, had exploited you, he gets a phone call. Whilst he can barely make out the number through his cracked screen, he recognizes the voice right away.

“Huang Renjun!”

“Kim Doyoung.” Renjun replies automatically, because his mind is still processing the irony of it all.

“I have a proposition for you.” Doyoung goes straight to the point and Renjun realizes that he’s not talking to him as your brother right now. He’s talking to him as the owner of Midnight fucking Arthouse.

“Uh, okay?” Renjun says and almost instantly regrets it. He should’ve said something more professional, but he has to admit he has been caught off guard.

“Can you come meet me at the studio in an hour?” he states more than he asks. And Renjun gets the feeling that this man hasn’t been told ‘no’ enough. At least not in this context.

“I… I can.” Dammit. Why wasn’t Renjun able to put more than two words together today?

“Great. Let’s have a lunch meeting at my studio.” Doyoung once again states. Renjun would usually be annoyed when someone was this imposing with him. But for some reason, Kim Doyoung’s boss voice is working on him. 

“Okay, see you in an hour.” Renjun says and he’s glad he’s spoken a full sentence this time.

“Great. Oh, and Renjun?”

“Yes?”

“Bring your portfolio along.”

Renjun doesn’t know how long he sits there. The steak that was served to him in a pretentiously off-centered plate remains mostly untouched. Because Renjun couldn’t keep more than two bites down. Not when Kim fucking Doyoung was standing up and flipping through his portfolio without a sound. 

This portfolio was Renjun’s lifelong work. Who knows how long he had spent on each piece. Some day, when he had the time, he was going to calculate the number of man hours he spent on building the whole damn thing. And then calculate how many days, weeks or months it amounted to in total. Because the way Kim Doyoung was flipping through it without much care minimized his life’s worth to mere seconds. He had spent hours and hours on each work and Kim Doyoung didn’t even spare more than half an eyeful on each piece.

And not a single word. 

Doyoung seemed to be a different person at work than he had been at the party at his parent’s home. Here, he was the Kim Doyoung, and for a moment, Renjun could finally see how he might have risen all the way up to the top. Because every single minute of his life was accounted for. From the moment Renjun had walked in, all he could see was how his assistant kept pushing him from one task to the other. He hadn’t even spent too long on pleasantries before he took Renjun to his office for lunch. And if he thought that lunch for Doyoung would be a time of peace, he was wrong. Because he ate quickly and Renjun couldn’t possibly meet his speed. He supposed that’s how successful people ate. Because every minute they ate was every minute they were not making money. Renjun was only halfway through his lunch when Doyoung had gotten up and started going through his portfolio.

And Renjun hadn’t been able to take a single bite since. His stomach was in knots. He felt small, sitting here in this grand old office in one of the biggest arthouses of the country. Weirdly, Renjun finds himself internally smiling at the fact that Doyoung had called this place a studio. Because, no way. The place that Renjun interned at was a studio. This was a fucking art museum and nothing less. 

A finalizing shut of the portfolio is what breaks Renjun out of his thoughts.

“Okay, Huang Renjun, I’m going to cut to the chase.” Doyoung says and Renjun sits up straighter, his eyes and ears attentive and open. “I need new artists for the 2021 Midnight Arthouse Annuale. Every artist that I’ve ever introduced in spring has gone on to become a best seller by winter.”

Of course he knew that. Renjun could name every single artist that had gotten that exposure. But hearing it straight from the man that gave it to them was making goosebumps run down his spine.

“I’ve got two spots to debut artists that no one has ever heard of. And someone put in a very convincing word for you.” he says and Renjun feels his stomach do a flip before it drowns in guilt, because he knows that the both of them know who that someone is. “But I’m going to be honest with you. Nothing I see in here is worthy of the Annuale.” he says plainly. Renjun looks up. His heart drops.

“Um… nothing?” Renjun asks stupidly. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel like the big man that had punched someone in the face from an inflated ego the night before. He feels like the little fish in a sea of big fishes. He feels like someone is finally showing him the mirror and telling him exactly what he’s worth in the context of big names and big opportunities. And it’s a humbling and sobering experience. Because Renjun feels his hangover dissipating. 

“This is basically an art student’s portfolio. What you’ve shown me is essentially a series of assignments you’ve made for your professors. Nothing is inspired. Nothing has vision. Nothing in here jumps out at me and tells me who Huang Renjun is.” Doyoung is speaking to him straight up. No niceties. No filters. He’s speaking to him like the owner of a huge motherfucking company and nothing less.

And maybe someone had to speak to Renjun this way and deflate his ego, so he could finally open his eyes to the real world. Because Renjun doesn’t feel angry or broody or venomous over these words. He feels like he has been sobered. He finds himself agreeing with everything that has been said. Like he’s opened his eyes for the first time and finally seen what he’s actually like without his ego or conceit filtering his vision. He was absolutely right. Kim Doyoung had been the one to tell him this before. But sitting here in his huge fucking office, in a building where he was surrounded by art that was in every way better than his… it puts everything in context, and Renjun finally realizes that he had been right all along.

“So, here’s my proposition.” Doyoung begins. “Make me something worthy of the Annuale. And I’ll help you make your debut.”

Renjun’s eyes widen. His mind races. He didn’t have much time. And the stakes were too high. How could he possibly make the best work of his life, the work that would help him launch his dream in a span of two weeks? It wasn’t enough time.

Then again, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. This was make or break. So Renjun doesn’t even think much before he replies “I’ll do it. I’ll show you.”

Doyoung smiles. “I had a feeling you’d say that. In that case, I have another meeting to go to. But my assistant will help you sort out the details. I’m sure you’ll understand.” he says, already getting up and putting his jacket on. 

Renjun stands with him. He doesn’t believe it. Suddenly, this opportunity feels too big for his breaches. But it’s there for the grabbing. And he could only ever miss the shot he never shoots. 

Yet somehow, Renjun also feels like he’s about to make a deal with the devil. Is this how the unassuming hero feels in movies when he’s made an agreement with the mob boss? Renjun reckons it comes close. He’s not sure whether to shake hands or to bow in these situations. So he stands there awkwardly and does neither as Doyoung walks to his door.

“My assistant will be in contact with you. I look forward to seeing your masterpiece.” he smiles a loaded smile and in that moment, Renjun decides that your brother was nothing like you. 

“Oh, and Renjun. The theme is ‘The Past Year’ but don’t tell anybody that.” he smiles and Renjun nods as Doyoung takes his leave. He’s not sure why he’s been given that extra bit of information. He’s not sure if that pointer has come from Kim Doyoung of Midnight Arthouse or Y/N L/N’s older brother. It is a bit of a mindfuck, but Renjun tries not to dwell on it too much. He had to leave his intellectual capacities free for his bigger purpose.

Renjun looks up to see Doyoung’s assistant smiling professionally at him. “Would you like a tour, Mr. Huang?” she says and Renjun once again gets the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory feels he always got around your family’s grandeur. But this was more than riches. This was art from people Renjun had admired and closely followed. Maybe this would give him some inspiration and put him in the right headspace.

“Yes, please.” Renjun says a bit too eagerly before he is led outside.

It is once again, a humbling experience. Renjun had already seen most of the work displayed here in one form or the other. But watching it with the naked eye and up close was a different experience altogether. The art here was in a different league and now Renjun starts to understand what Kim Doyoung had meant. None of Renjun’s existing works came close to what he was seeing displayed right here. He had thought Midnight Arthouse was some sort of a viral launcher. The kind of company that only looked for social media sensations rather than trailblazers and actual talent. But Renjun realizes that he had been massively underestimating them. Kim Doyoung knew what he was doing. Renjun did not. 

All this time, Renjun had walked the earth with a chip on his shoulder. He had been envious of everyone who ever did better than him. He had resented every artist that had risen to fame for reasons Renjun could not understand. He had judged every person ever who was well connected enough to rise to the top. 

And now, standing here in the majesty of Midnight Arthouse’s proud displays, all Renjun feels is small. Like he’s been served a slice of humble pie. For the first time in a long time, Renjun feels inspired, but not from a place of envy or jealousy or bitterness or vengeance. He feels inspired to make the most out of the opportunity that his life had given him. Because who was he to judge anyone that used connections when he was standing here doing the same? The mere fact that he, a junior in college had gotten a meeting with Kim Doyoung over lunch in his office while his assistant was personally showing him around… that was proof that Renjun had become one of those well-connected people.

Renjun’s initial feeling had been right. This was a deal with the devil. Because Renjun had paid a pretty big price for it. His stomach feels queasy. Was it only last night that he was going around throwing punches and being a general asshole? He doesn’t want to think about it. Because then he’d be forced to remember the faces of all his friends, and he didn’t want to revisit that memory through the lens of a deflated ego and a dissolving hangover. So Renjun is almost thankful when Doyoung’s assistant speaks to him.

“Are you ready for some paperwork? Just some general entry applications and agreements.” she says, still smiling that strictly professional smile.

Renjun takes a deep breath in. He feels unprepared, yet ready. He was going to take this opportunity. Or everything he had done this past year would have been for naught. 

“Let’s do it.” Renjun says, nodding.

“Great. Follow me.” she says and Renjun starts walking. Each step forward feels like a heavy, purposeful and loaded step towards his future. Here it was, a few strides away from his grabbing. Forget the past year. His whole life had been amounting to this moment. 

Every stroke of his brush had led him here. Every drop of his sweat. Every sleepless night. Every decision he had made. Every heart he had broken. Every friend he had lost. 

Renjun was walking towards his goal a man with nothing left to lose. And he had heard that they made the most dangerous men. His future was two strides away now. Two more strides and he’d be one step closer to achieving his life goal.

But when he’s about to make the final stride, Renjun receives a phone call that shatters his entire world as he knows it. 

And in that moment, he turns on his heel and runs faster than he ever had in his entire life. The future that was so close that he could almost taste it, now becomes smaller and smaller as it fades into the background behind him. Because Renjun had run in the opposite direction and left it in his dust.

Renjun pushes through the doors and doesn’t even absorb the pain he should be feeling in his shoulder from the force of the contact. 

“Where is she!” he yells. He doesn’t feel like a person. Because how much could one person take, anyway? How many times could he be beaten down by the universe before he would fall to his knees and beg to be spared?

He looks around and finally spots the man he calls his father standing near a watercooler, talking to someone he doesn’t recognize. So he has no care about rushing up and getting in his face. Because what more was there left to lose?

“Where is she?” he yells at his face. His father nods a farewell at the unassuming man before he turns to his son.

“In the isolation ward, Renjun. Where else would she be?” his father says and his voice is so calm that Renjun wants to grab at his collar. But he takes in a deep shaky breath to calm himself. It doesn’t happen. So he finds himself yelling again.

“How did this even happen! She hasn’t even been outside her house this entire time!” Renjun is trying so hard to hold back the tears of rage. But they’re threatening to explode any minute now.

“What does it matter how she got the virus? It’s a global pandemic. She has it now, like thousands of people around the world. The doctors are doing all they can.” his father says and if Renjun had been in his right mind, he would’ve realized that this was the first time he had spoken to him in over a year. But all he could think of right now was so what if others had it? So what if every fucking person in the world had it? How dare his father say that? 

“How are they doing all they can when she’s on fucking life support?!” Renjun growls through his teeth and he’s inhaling sharp breaths to keep himself from breaking.

“Your mother is with her, Renjun. The best you can do now is pray.” he replies and Renjun wants to hit him. He wants to punch that holier than thou look off his face. His grandmother was probably on her last breath and his father had the audacity to ask him to pray.

“I have to go see her. I have to take care of her.” Renjun turns and looks around, breathing heavily before he begins to move. But his father grabs at his arm.

“You can’t see her, Renjun. Are you even listening to me? Your grandmother is in the isolation ward. There’s only one family member allowed and your mother is it.” he has raised his voice at him.

“She doesn’t know! She doesn’t fucking care about her! I’m the only one who knows! I have to be there with her!” Renjun shouts at him and he’s only acutely aware that he’s sobbing because his words are loud but inchoate. 

“Renjun. Son. There’s nothing we can do.” his father shakes his head at him and watches with his mouth open as his son sobs and barges to the door like a madman. Because Renjun will find a way to get to her. No one cared about her like he did. No one loved her like he did. It had always been him and his grandmother against the world. He needed to be there for her. But the hospital staff is grabbing at him and pushing him out while his father watches from a distance like a helpless man. 

Renjun is barely aware that he’s doubling over because his tears are blinding him or that he’s been led outside because the cool air is hitting him. He gets up to charge back in but his resolve is so much weaker now and he feels another hold around him, keeping him back. 

"Renjun I'm so sorry. Your mother called me. I don't think she knows about us." Yoo Jimin whispers softly as he falls to his knees. She crouches next to him and puts her arms around him.

And in this strange, awful moment, Renjun finds himself realizing that the arms that are holding him aren't the arms that he wanted. The arms that are soothing him and holding him while he cries into the ground are not the arms he craved.

He wanted the arms that had held him that one night while Renjun had laid his head on their shoulder and bared his heart for the very first time. He wants the arms that had enveloped him and had, for at least a moment, made everything alright. He wanted the arms of the person whose heart he had cruelly broken.

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 22/?

Word Count: 1.8k

Author's Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name (Your best friend's name)

We're back, we're in full swing, we've hit like 50 followers, we've hit 500 notes. We're thriving.

Also! Fun fact but I can't actually watch Young Justice season 3 (and 4) or Titans :/ They're on DC Universe, which is only available in America. (If you can't catch on, I'm not from America lol)

Warnings: Swearing, Description of Injury, Kidnapping, Police/ Justice System, Manipulation attempts, Gaslighting, Violence, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20) (Part 21) (Part 22)

The days became longer and kept bothering Y/N. She was losing grip on reality. Aria would come in occasionally and feed her. Give her water. Let her use the bathroom. She was stuck. She wanted to knock off that stupid fucking bird plague doctor mask and, look her pathetic sister in her eyes. And let Aria know that she knew, she knew who it was.

But she was backed into a corner. And the mask was not going to come off anytime. Boy, oh boy, she wanted it to fall. She wanted it to slip so she could boot it into the walls she had become accustomed to. She wanted it to fall and shatter.

Aria came into the room like normal, to be greeted by Y/N not even looking her in the eyes.

"Come here, love," Aria said.

"Go to Hell."

"I need to use you for a "Proof of Life" video. So I can use you for ransom. Come here."

"No."

"Come here. Now," Aria said, voice getting more hoarse and pissed off with Y/N and her actions.

"No."

"Come. Here. Now!" She screeched.

"No!"

She felt Aria's claws grab her wrists and dig in, she could feel the blood seeping through the claws from her wrists. Aria pushed her into the wall, still gripping her wrists and letting the blood flow down Y/N's arms.

"Listen here, you fucking bitch," Aria said, dropping her voice a few octaves, to seem intimidating. "I want that money. If you don't cooperate, I'll kill you."

Y/N whimpered but spat at her sister, "You'll fucking die trying."

Aria wrestled Y/N into her seat and handcuffed her to it. She then set up the video camera.

"And, recording. Talk."

"I fucking hate you."

"You should."

"Go to fucking Hell."

"The date is February 14th. Here," she shoved a newspaper into the view of the camera, Y/N didn't even notice Aria bring it in. She saw the article on the back of her kidnapping. She knew people were still talking.

"Here is the date. On a newspaper. This video will be released today. If I don't get the money within a week, I'll kill her. Along with the Waynes."

Y/N gulped. This just got so much more real than she was expecting.

Aria left the room, with Y/N still handcuffed to the chair. She took in the room she had become used to. She had spent a week in captivity, expecting the vigilantes of Gotham to come and get them, but they didn't. She was confused as to why-

Wait a damn minute, she thought. Are you- Wait- Wait- Wait- Wait. Oh my god? The family is in captivity, the vigilantes haven't come for us yet, are- she paused. Are they the vigilantes? There's no way, they can't be- Can they? They can- Can't they, huh? Fuck. We're- We're not getting out anytime soon. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This is a God damn pickle we've gotten into. Aria must know what I think, the family- she paused, almost as if she didn't believe what she was thinking. That they're the Gotham vigilantes. She must- Fuck!

I don't care that they didn't tell me- she thought like someone could read her thoughts. She figured that someone might be able to. She knew that Martian Manhunter had those abilities. she figured that Miss Martian, who she didn't see often, likely shared those abilities.

I care that we might be fucked.

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

Before she knew it, that exact day, she figured, February 14th? The door was broken down by Superman. This just put the pieces together more for Y/N. Her assumptions about the Waynes being the Gotham vigilantes were just seeming more likely as time went on.

Superman uncuffed her and she thanked him before running out to where Aria was being arrested by the Gotham police. But she didn't stop, and she knocked off Aria's mask.

"Oh, hi Y/N," Aria said, nonchalantly.

"Oh, hi Y/N," Y/N mocked. "You fucking bitch!" she yelled and pushed Aria, while the police tried to detain her. She struggled and tried to attack Aria further, "Let go! I know her power of attorney is going to be her sister-"

"How do you know that?" Commissioner Gordon asked.

"Because her sister is me!" She yelled when she finally broke away from the police, trying to get closer to Aria, before Commissioner Gordon stopped her, grabbing her arms and squeezing lightly. She stared at him, dead-faced. No emotions were there, other than anger, raw, seething anger.

Aria laughed, "Oops. I guess the jig is up."

Y/N was seething, she didn't even notice the JLA and the rest of the Waynes were behind her. She was still struggling to get towards Aria, yelling and just making noise.

She was making a scene, but she didn't care. She felt betrayed.

"You fucking bitch. You absolutely pathetic piece of shit."

"Keep yelling at me, Y/N. Mom and Dad will be disappointed in you. They always are, aren't they?"

Y/N turned to Commissioner Gordon, who was still holding her in place, "You either get her out of my fucking face in 5 seconds or I'm going to hurt her. That's not a threat," she turned to Aria, "That's a fucking promise."

"We might have to detain you at this rate, Y/N."

"And I would understand that, but I'm going to hurt her."

"Ma'am, calm down." Commissioner Gordon said before waving his hand and the other police took Aria into the back of a police car. "I'm going to have to arrest you," he said, trying to show sympathy for the pain that Y/N was in.

"Then do it already," Y/N mumbled, eyes still locked on the police car her sister was in.

"Gordon?" Jason called, "I swear, I've never seen this much anger in her. I'm sure you can send her home with us."

"You better be right about that, Jason."

"I really think I am right."

Gordon looked at Y/N, which she caught in the corner of her eye. She could tell he was upset about this, he was trying to get to her, to get her to understand her anger was okay, but beating her sister wasn't.

And then Aria waved as they drove her to the station.

But she wasn't even paying attention and before she knew it, she was in Jason's arms. He was holding her while talking to the police about the attack. He had his hands wrapped around her waist while he was behind her, maximizing the ability he had to stop her should she run.

He knew what he was doing, and it was working to calm her slightly, to the point where the police were able to talk to her about her experience with the attacker they knew as Hour, or as Arianna (Last name).

Once they were done with questioning her, they spoke more to Jason, who still had her in his grasp.

She surveyed the area and noticed that Bruce was talking to Superman.

The pieces were all falling into place. She knew he had to be Batman at that moment.

And she wanted in on it.

The hopelessness she felt when Aria had her kidnapped was astronomical. She wanted to make sure no one ever felt that way again, not if she could help it. She wanted in on it all.

She thought back to Jason's stab wound, the scar still fresh. She knew it wasn't a mugging. It had to be him saving the city from peril. She realized how dumb she was for buying into that lie, but she wasn't mad at anyone in her vicinity.

She was mad- pissed- so far beyond angry at Aria.

She didn't know she could be so angry. She didn't know she had it in her to be so angry at Aria. But she was. She was so unbelievably pissed. Any mention of her name sent Y/N into seething anger, and Jason could feel her heart race in her body.

She wasn't paying attention to words anymore. She just wanted to get out of there, to go home. To her home, not Jason's. She didn't feel safe in the Wayne Manor anymore.

No one could blame her when she told the police to drive her to her house, not the Wayne Manor. Jason just hugged her and asked when he could see her next. She told him in the morning. "Or," she added, "At 3 in the morning. I don't care. Just leave me alone right now."

Everyone understood. They didn't have their own sister kidnap them after all.

She got to her house and got inside, A/N immediately trying to flag her down to talk to her, but she just put up a hand and waved her off. Slinking to her room without a second thought and locking the door.

She didn't want to talk about it. The thoughts about her sister racing through her mind. The thoughts about how her boyfriend was a vigilante. How was she going to bring this up? How was she going to tell him that she knew? That she wanted in on the act? That she wanted to fight alongside him- and his family?

Before she knew it, and like clockwork, it was 3 in the morning. And Jason was knocking on her window. She assumed that he had tried to let himself into her room, but to no avail since she hadn't unlocked the door.

She went over to her window and unlocked it. She lifted it and Jason crawled in.

"I have a front door," she said.

"You didn't answer when I tried to knock on your door," he joked. "How are you holding up?"

"As well as anyone can in my situation."

"Well, everyone wishes you came home with us, so we could watch you on your first night away from-"

"From my sister?"

"I was going to say from captivity."

"So, my sister."

"Yeah, that."

"Uh-huh."

"So, anyway," Jason said, trying to get Y/N's mind off of Aria. "Did you sleep when you got here?" he asked.

"No. I was busy."

"Doing what?"

"Lost in thought. There's a lot of thoughts, not enough brain," she joked. "You probably get that part."

"I do-"

"When were you going to tell me?" she but in.

"Tell you what?" he questioned, confused.

"That you're one of the vigilantes," she answered, studying his face. He seemed taken aback by the statement and tried to avert her gaze. Oh yeah, he knows what I'm on about, she thought.

"I-"

"You know what I'm on about, Jay. You know I know so don't lie anymore."

"Y/N-"

"No. You know I know. I know you know. Don't lie anymore. I'm not even ad at the lies, you're trying to keep me safe, obviously."

"Oh."

"The truth is, babe, I want in."

"What!?"

(Oh my god? Are we going to get Red Hood action? (The answer is yes, in due time)

[teacupfulofstarshine]

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP CHAPTER 10

PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!! this chapter features Evil Scientist Lady and her Fucked Up WorldView a LOT, and there are also some Major Plot Events that involve Violence. i will put a summary in the end notes if you decide at any point that this particular chapter is too much - that's super valid! i will also mention here that no main characters are going to die in this story and no one dies in this chapter either.

huge huge thanks to @flamingfawkes for beta’ing!

CW: extreme disregard for human life, mentioned human and animal cruelty, toxic workplace environment, violence (both imagined and actual, mildly graphic), gun mention, minor blood, death threats, extremely unethical character, unethical science, stalking

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // read it on ao3!

“This is the same result we’ve gotten the last twenty times -”

“I don’t care, Steven, run it again!”

Steven sighs, punching at the keyboard to run the statistical analysis sequence again. “This is ridiculous! I’ve run this sequence so many times it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. Why can’t we just turn in the results we have and -”

“Because she’ll behead us,” James snaps, “and then she’ll destroy our reputations and our families and they’ll get no severance. I have three young children at home, Steven, I need this money.” Steven softens a little, fingers running smoothly over the keys as he combs the data again. Next to him, James has a computer screen full of frame-by-frame stills of what little data they recovered from the probe before it was destroyed; Penny across the room is surrounded by ancient texts a mile high and at least three laptops.

“Why is she so interested in this, anyway?”

“It’s beyond me. Since when do we question the whims of what we’re told to do?”

Steven squints at the screen, pushing his chair back and rubbing at his eyes. “If I have to stare at these numbers for one more second, my brain is going to explode. I feel like my eyeballs are going to melt out of my skull. I wanna scream.”

James pulls up another image, staring at the blurry image of the merman before him. Steven pushes away from his own screen and squints at James’s. The merman in the photo looks young, not much older than his kid brother, but they don’t know anything about the lifespan of these creatures. He looks confused, squinting at the camera. As James flicks through the stills, the merman transitions from confused to angry to enraged, and then he attacks.

“He’s not happy about the camera.”

“Would you be happy about someone spying on you and your family?” James says, switching to the next still.

“I wouldn’t be happy if I thought someone was doing anything we do in this lab to me or my family.” James elbows Steven, but luckily no one else seems to have heard.

“This lab isn’t the most ethical place I’ve ever worked, but it pays the bills,” James mutters. “And we’re not even in the experimentation lab. We just do data analysis. We’re removed from the situation.”

Are we? Steven wonders. He sees James reach out and touch the framed picture of his daughters, and keeps his mouth shut. He turns back to his computer, watching the little spinning color wheel of his mouse as the program calculates the same numbers again and again. The results come up identical to the previous ones, and Steven clicks “Run Program” again wordlessly.

They work in silence for a while, the three of them, broken only by James’s muttering and the occasional thud of one of Penny’s books and the clicks of keyboards and mice. If they weren’t so reliant on technology, Steven thinks, there would be an enormous corkboard spanning three of the four walls, covered in pushpins and handwriting and red string connecting images. He debates actually building one, if only to increase the levity in the room, but decides against it.

He’s seen people punished or fired or who-knows-what-else for far less, after all.

Instead, after his program tells him for the twenty-third time that his results are the same (and didn’t someone say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?), Steven scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms and opens the data entry window. Maybe the problem with the results has to do with the entry of the data; did he input something wrong? It’s possible . . .

Here he goes again, he supposes. He stands up, stretches, and leans back to crack some vertebrae. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, take a short screen break, and go back to the beginning. Maybe there’s something in the input that I missed. You want anything?”

James groans, thunking his head against the desk. “I want something with enough caffeine to kill three elephants, please.” Steven nods, looking over at Penny. She shakes her head, and he heads for the shitty coffee machine a few doors down.

Several floors below, a young woman pulls her lab goggles up to rest on top of her head with her perfectly-pinned protocol-compliant bun. “The latest round of tests is completely done, ma’am. I think you’ll find the efficacy . . . striking.”

She takes the clipboard, glossy perfectly-painted nails pinching the sheets of thin paper and flicking between them. “I’m afraid I don’t do so well with the scientific side of things - Kathleen, was it? Explain this to me, would you?”

“Certainly, ma’am. As you know, the kill time for the most effective neurotoxin currently available, tetrodotoxin, varies from thirty minutes to four hours. Average time for symptoms to manifest is seventeen minutes, and from there the symptoms progress through tingling of the lips and tongue, headache, vomiting, muscle weakness, ataxia, et cetera. Death occurs as a result of respiratory or heart failure, and the poison is nearly undetectable if you do not specifically test for it.”

“The untraceability is a plus, but that is far too wide a range of times, and too slow a time even at its fastest.”

“Of course, ma’am, but as far as naturally-occurring marine poisons go - actually, as far as naturally-occurring poisons go, full stop - it is the most effective. Until now, that is.”

“Oh? What are your findings?”

“Which trials would you like to start with, ma’am?”

“The human trials, Kathleen. The only ones that matter. I hardly intend to go around killing mice and hoping that no one traces their deaths to a novel neurotoxin.” She laughs airily, and Kathleen nods along.

“Certainly, ma’am. The most recent data points indicate an average efficacy time of thirteen minutes for our compound neurotoxin, with a full range between nine and seventeen minutes passing before subject death. Subjects began to show symptoms around five minutes, give or take twenty-five seconds.”

“And those symptoms were?”

Kathleen flips through the document. “Seizures, vital organ failure, blindness, painful muscle spasms, suffocation from the inside out.”

She hums, tapping a manicured finger against the report. “Well, Kathleen, that is certainly impressive, especially for a preliminary human subject trial. These results . . . I must say, they are not nearly as disappointing as I anticipated when I came down here.”

“Ma’am?”

“How long have you worked for this company, Kathleen?”

“Almost five years, ma’am, but I’ve always been an assistant. This is my first time as lead researcher and biochemist on a project, ever since you . . . laid off the previous lead researcher.”

“Kathleen, let me be frank. These results are not what I hoped for. The efficacy time and symptom onset times are both far too long for my liking, and the range of efficacy time is too broad. By all accounts, I should consider this a failure.” Kathleen swallows, but remains poised. “However, you’ve managed to shave off a considerable amount of time from the tetrodotoxin readings. The range of symptom onset time is an acceptable breadth, and your results are far beyond anything your predecessor ever accomplished for me. This is truly impressive, all things considered.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How should I proceed?”

“I want the efficacy doubled - tripled - I want it upped by anywhere between four and five hundred percent. I want the pain increased, too. Feel free to increase your requests for test subjects, but get me the results I want. You said the original tetrodotoxin was untraceable?”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“Can you keep that feature intact?”

“As of right now, it is intact, ma’am. I will endeavor to keep it so in future experiments.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to your new position as head of this research division. Don’t let me down.” She holds out a slender hand, and Kathleen takes it, trying not to seem too eager.

“I won’t, ma’am.”

“How soon can you start this experiment up again?”

“The cleaners should be finished by tomorrow morning, ma’am, and I can tweak chemical formulas until then.”

“Excellent.” Her watch beeps, and she lifts it, pursing her bright lips as she examines the message she’s just received. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to. Someone will drop off your master access key for Lab Three within the hour.”

She steps into the elevator and lifts her watch up to her face, swiping through the messages from her secretary. One finger reaches out to press the button for the digital analysis labs floor, and the other taps away at her watch.

When she steps off the elevator, her secretary is waiting. “Ma’am.”

“What do they have for me?”

“Unclear. They said it was something they wanted to report directly to you and you alone, but it seems to be something big.”

“Hopefully it’s a big step in the right direction, or they’ll be taking a big step out of a job.” She relishes in the way the employees she passes all unfailingly flinch and then snap to perfect attention when they hear the sharp echo of her heels against the floor. She lifts her head and walks faster, striking the tiles with her heels like a gavel, sharp and precise against a judge’s desk.

The computer labs are disorganized when she enters, but there is a string of promising-looking numbers on the main display monitor. There is a woman surrounded by books and a man pulling up photos on his computer, and there is a third man standing in front of her like a toy soldier. She focuses on that one.

“I hear you have news for me? Make it swift, and make it good.”

He swallows, hard, and her eyes idly trace the line of his throat. If he disappoints her, perhaps she will drive her heel through it, to make an example of him. That would be far too messy; perhaps his dominant hand will do.

“I have narrowed down the location of the missing net, ma’am. I believe it to have washed up somewhere around these general GPS coordinates.” He fiddles with a remote in his hand, and the image on the screen changes. It shows an aerial satellite view of a secluded strip of beach, framed by rocky cliffs with larger rocks studded out into the open water. “It should have washed up somewhere in this one-point-three-seven-mile strip of beach. The whole area is property of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.”

She snarls. “That man. He won’t let us on that beach willingly until hell freezes over.”

The other man, the one scanning through photo stills and video footage, jumps up, knocking his chair backwards. “I found something!”

She turns towards him, and his excitement freezes and sputters into something much more controlled and terrified. “Show me.” He clicks something and pulls up video footage from one of their surveillance drones, zooming in on a particular patch of ocean along the stretch of Sanders’ beach. Her eyes widen when she sees what he’d noticed - a hump of red-and-white tail arcing above the waves before a pattern of ripples streaks off towards the cliff. He pauses the footage, rewinds it, uses a laser pointer to show an opening concealed in the cliff face.

“There’s some kind of grotto in there, hidden by the cliff. It’s on Sanders’ property, he has to know it’s there. And it looks like the merman from the destroyed drone knows it’s there too. Which means -”

“That must be where he’s keeping them.” Something burns in her chest, brilliant and terrifying and all-encapsulating, like wildfire. “We’ve found them, at long last.”

“What would you have me do?” her secretary asks. “I can arrange for a recovery squad at your earliest possible convenience, ma’am.”

“Assemble the squad, but do not have them move out. They will wait for my orders. When they go, you are to go with them.” Her secretary nods, once, sharp and sure. “Dispatch a crew to Lab One and clear it out. I want it prepped for containment, vivisection, chemical tests - the works. Get at least three tanks set up and one strap-down human table.”

“A human table, ma’am?”

“Yes. We have to deal with Sanders once and for all to ensure that he does not ruin any future experiments.”

“Will we be taking him as well?”

She hums thoughtfully. “No. Pull up the file we have on his known associate?”

A few swift clicks and flicks and a photo appears on the large screen: a young man with brown-and-purple hair, sleeves rolled up, carefully lowering a perfectly viable specimen into the ocean and letting it go, like some kind of fool. “His doctoral student, ma’am. The longest one he’s ever kept - this one has been with him a few years.”

“Excellent. When you raid the lab, take him.”

“Should we kill Sanders?”

“No. Rough him up a little, but leave him alive. Taking his protégé and leaving him alone, helpless to rescue him, will be the highest form of torture for such an insufferable person. The agony will eat him alive until his dying day.”

Her secretary nods, taking the notes down dutifully. The other employees look vaguely horrified, but she pays them no mind. No sacrifice is too great to be made in the name of progress, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a weakling who will never get anywhere in life.

She refuses to be one of those weaklings.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan wakes up confused.

He’s warm, warmer than he thinks he’s ever been in his whole life. When he stirs, he moves farther than he meant to - he must not be underwater. That’s enough to send a jolt of concern through his sleep-addled brain. Why isn’t he underwater? Why was he sleeping if he was above the surface? There’s no way his dad is here, and Roman hates surfacing, where are they? Where is he? But he’s so comfortable . . .

Someone shifts beside him, an arm draping across his waist, and Logan forces his eyes open. He shifts his lower half, confused when two things move instead of one, and there are layers upon layers of thin, flat, soft things wrapping around him. What is happening?

Slowly, slowly, his mind clears, and he remembers the events of last night. He grew legs - he was a human, once, before he was mer - he couldn’t sleep underwater with Dad and Roman - Virgil was teaching him to walk - Virgil put “clothes” on him - Virgil was embarrassed that he didn’t have those “clothes” on him - Virgil took him out of the lab to sleep - Virgil agreed to cuddle him since his pod couldn’t -

Logan feels the strange burning in his face again as he shifts. He can’t see well in this new human form, but when things are close enough to his face they’re relatively clear. And Virgil, still sleeping, is close enough that Logan can smell him - he smells like salt water mixed with something sharp and something sweet and something else that Logan can’t quite identify but finds addicting nonetheless. Sunlight streams in and pools around Virgil’s face, illuminating the tangled mess of hair spread around him and flopping into his face, the small puddle of water leaking out from his open mouth onto the soft thing he’s resting his head on, the way his chest moves slowly with every breath. His arm is wrapped around Logan, pulling him close. Logan thinks he might explode if he focuses on this any more, so he rolls from his side to his back as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake Virgil. Virgil tightens his arm around Logan and mutters something indecipherable in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.

Rather than focusing on his very confusing feelings for the very pretty man next to him, Logan focuses on what he can see of the room around him. He makes a list in his mind of things that he plans to ask Virgil about later today, including:

1: There are many draws attached to the small, smooth cliffs surrounding them. How do they stay there?

2: There are lots of “clothes” scattered all around the floor, and there were several on the bed, too. Is that normal for humans?

3: Last night, Virgil did something that made the room light up with trapped sunlight! How did he do that?

4: How did Virgil get ice to stay in those big frozen sheets in such a warm place to let the sunlight in?

5: How did Virgil make ice into that weird shape that he filled with water and drank last night?

6: How did Virgil get the water to come into this place?

7: Do all humans have a specific area set aside for sleeping? Logan and his pod usually just sleep wherever they can, but Virgil seems to have this soft slab set aside with all of these soft things to be comfortable and sleep in every night. Is this a Human Thing or strictly a Virgil Thing?

Logan looks out through the sheet of ice that protects Virgil’s area from the outside and gasps. He can’t see well, but there’s a glittering expanse of blue that shifts and moves and oh, is that the ocean?

He’s spent his whole life (well, his whole remembered life, anyways) in the ocean, and he’s seen some truly wondrous things. He travels around the world with his pod, he knows the ocean is big, but seeing it spread out like this is . . . awe-inspiring. Logan has never seen the ocean like this, and now that he has he doesn’t think he can ever not see it like this again. It’s like a perfect sheet of sea-glass, rippling and unbroken but dynamic in a way that he never really gets a sense of when he’s beneath it.

He knows that there are waves, of course. There are smaller swells out on the open ocean, and larger ones when the Second Goddess dips her fingers down from the Upper Ocean and swirls the storms to a thundering burst. There are waves along the shoreline, ones that he frolics in with Roman and batter him against the shoreline. There are waves created when he or his pod members surface. But watching the movement of the ocean from up here is . . .

Even with his imperfect vision, he is completely at a loss for words as he stares at the ocean.

Eventually, Virgil stirs next to him, and Logan turns away from the ocean to stare at him. Virgil is close to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed against him. Logan’s eyesight is not great, but Virgil is close enough that he can pick out little details of his face. There are brown face scales scattered all over him, but they seem to cluster on his nose and his cheeks. Logan has wanted to touch them for a substantial amount of time, and he can’t stop himself from gently settling the tips of his fingers over Virgil’s cheek.

His face doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting. The scales don’t give texture to his face the way that Logan’s do; the skin is smooth and flat. There are little bumps all over, but the brown scales aren’t raised off the skin like Logan expected. He lets his fingers trail along Virgil’s face. His bone structure seems to be exceedingly similar to Logan’s, at least in regards to his head. Logan’s finger rests gently on the curve of bone under Virgil’s eye, and Virgil exhales warm breath onto his palm.

Logan wonders what it would be like to have this for longer than just his recovery period. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Virgil all the time, to get to run his hands over Virgil’s face and arms and chest and examine the differences between their anatomy. He wonders what it would be like to learn to walk without falling over, and he feels a sharp, unexpected twinge in his chest as he realizes that getting better at walking means no more closeness to Virgil.

His chest feels strange, like there’s a school of small fish swarming around and tickling his insides and making him feel all foamy, like the froth churned up by a windswept sea. He feels like he does when he’s underwater - free, weightless, mobile, limited by nothing except his own imagination. He feels unstoppable.

Virgil makes a sudden, sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open slowly. Logan thinks that, perhaps, he might not appreciate being studied unknowingly - he hadn’t appreciated Virgil doing it, before he understood what was happening, when all he knew was the loss of his pod aching like a scraped-out seashell. As Virgil wakes up, Logan shifts, turning his gaze to the rest of the room.

Virgil makes a sleepy grumbling noise, opening one eye. Logan chances another quick glance at him, and when his eye slides open Logan is struck by its beauty. He doesn’t get much of a chance to admire it, however, before Virgil is jolting backwards like Logan’s struck him with lightning. Logan is confused, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Virgil?”

“Wassat?! Wait . . . L’gan?”

“It is me,” Logan says softly. “Are - are you upset with me?”

Virgil yawns, jaw dropping to his chest, revealing a flash of teeth and a soft pink tongue. (Logan wants to lick it. Why does Logan want to lick it? Why is Logan thinking about Virgil’s tongue licking his tongue - why is Logan thinking about Virgil - what in the Seven Oceans is happening to him.) “Wh - no, no, ‘m okay, I just - woke up, forgot I had you with me, got confused about another person in my bed.” Before Logan can start to feel bad, Virgil adds, “S’okay if it’s you, though,” and the foamy, floaty feeling is back.

“Did you sleep well?”

Virgil laughs, low and rumbling, and Logan can feel it in his fingers where he touches Virgil’s skin. “I never sleep well.” He sits up, and the fabric of his pajamas shifts to let Logan see stretches of soft, supple skin that he usually doesn’t. Logan wants to touch it. He very determinedly keeps his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Gotta admit, though, last night was . . . better than usual.”

This appears to be the point where Virgil first notices their position - pressed together, arm slung over Logan, basically cuddling the way that Logan normally would with his pod. (No tangle with his pod has ever felt this . . . electric, this charged, this important to Logan before.) His face flares a brilliant red, and he shifts like he wants to move away but -

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Logan blurts out. Virgil blinks at him a little, and maybe he was a little overly enthusiastic, but - “I sleep in a tangle with Dad and Roman all the time. I have extreme difficulty sleeping without contact with someone else. It . . . helped me greatly.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, face turning redder still, smiling shyly. “That - makes me feel better. Thanks, Lo.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil smiles too, reaching up to gently move a piece of hair away from his face. Logan thinks that, as far as deaths go, his chest exploding (which seems to be getting more and more likely every fifteen seconds he spends in Virgil’s presence, only accelerated by all this skin-on-skin contact they’re having right now) seems to be the most pleasurable.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was is interrupted by a Ping! noise from across the room. “What is that?” Logan asks. Virgil, sadly, untangles himself from Logan and the blankets, sliding out of bed and heading over to one of the other structures in the room (what did he call it last night? Dex?) and picking up a flat glowing rectangle.

“Is everything alright?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I - Thomas sent me a text, it’s a little weird.”

“What is a text?”

“It’s a kind of human messaging system, it allows us to communicate when we’re far away from each other.”

“Like a pod call?” “Kind of? I’ll explain more later, I promise, I just - I gotta go down to the lab real quick.”

“I’ll come with -”

“No!” Virgil snaps. Logan flinches, and Virgil softens, crossing the room and gently touching his shoulder. “Hey, no, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just - this message, there’s something off. I think something might be wrong, and I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Just - wait here, okay? Wait in my room, where it’s safe. It’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine, but on the off chance that he’s not, I want you to stay hidden safely up here.”

Logan isn’t sure why this makes his face heat up slightly, but it does. “Okay. I accept your apology, and I . . . trust you.”

Virgil smiles, soft and heartwarming, and Logan is beginning to give more credence to his “chest explosion is fine, actually” theory. “Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

He leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the foamy feeling in Logan’s chest dissipates a little. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something . . . off. If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think that he was sensing a predator approaching.

But that can’t be right, he isn’t underwater. His danger senses are likely just overreacting to his disappointment at Virgil’s absence.

. . . Right?

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas is beginning to regret letting Roman and Patton (specifically, Roman) out of the large tank before finishing his first coffee of the morning.

“I want some!” Roman complains.

“Do you even know what it is?” Thomas says. Roman pouts sulkily at him.

“. . . No,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Thomas gives him the deadpan, no-nonsense, I-am-your-direct-superior-take-the-damn-samples-Virgil stare that he has perfected over the past few years. Roman wilts a little more, and Thomas feels slightly bad.

“It’s called coffee,” he says. “It’s a hot drink that lots of people have in the morning. Some people drink it plain, and some people add things to it to change the way it tastes. It helps me wake up more and get focused to start my day, and sometimes I drink it late at night to help keep me awake.”

Roman looks less like a kicked puppy and more like Logan, eyes wide and curious. “I want some!”

Thomas, taking a sip of his own two-seconds-of-cream-five-cubes-of-sugar coffee, nearly spits it out. He looks at Roman, eyes the very sharp, very detachable, very toxic spines covering his body, and says, “No.”

Roman’s demeanor changes entirely, switching from “curious toddler” to “toddler about to throw a temper tantrum” in a heartbeat. “Why not?!”

“Because when people drink coffee without being used to it, sometimes it makes them a little crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!”

“Do I need to recount to you how many times you’ve threatened me and my assistant since we met you?” Thomas says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you coffee until I know I can trust you not to stab me with your poisonous spines that cover your entire body and can be fired at people.”

Roman pouts more, dropping under the water and letting out a gratingly harmonious string of mer that Thomas is pretty sure translates to Roman bitching about the coffee situation to his dad. Based on the pattern of Patton’s response, he’s pretty sure Patton is laughing at Roman.

More sulky chalkboard-violin music, and then Roman resurfaces grumpily. “Dad agrees with you and says no consuming strange human foods.”

“Did he laugh at you?”

Roman squints suspiciously at him. “You can’t speak our language.”

“Yeah, but I know what it sounds like when a dad laughs at his kid.” Roman, continuing to pout, sinks back into the tank, presumably to sulk some more. Thomas takes another very long sip of coffee that is definitely too hot for his mouth and turns back to his desk.

Virgil should definitely be awake and in the lab at this point. The samples he’s supposed to be analyzing are sitting in their little tubes, each neatly labelled with locations and dates and times and what, specifically, Virgil is supposed to be looking for. Thomas considers going upstairs and waking up Virgil, who’s almost never been late for work in this way, but he decides against it. Virgil is upstairs with Logan, and Thomas knows that there’s something building between them. He’s not sure how advisable that something is, but he trusts Virgil to make his own decisions.

Besides, he could probably use some practice. His water sample analysis skills are pretty rusty, he’s had Virgil doing them for years. “Virgil, you owe me big time for what I’m doing for you.” He carefully shifts the samples over to his own desk, slides his earbuds in, picks up a pipette, and gets to work analyzing the bacterial and algal concentrations for any abnormalities.

Thomas accomplishes about forty-five minutes’ worth of work before Roman interrupts him by flicking water at him and soaking the back of his neck. “Hey!”

“I tried your name, but your little ear bug things were keeping you from hearing me,” Roman says smugly. Thomas, not for the first time, considers retreating to the closet and throwing beakers until he feels better.

“Can I help you?”

“Dad wants to go hunting and bring back breakfast, but we can’t leave without you.”

“Are you not going hunting?”

“I’m going to stay here and observe you,” Roman says.

Thomas blinks. “Do I . . . need observing?”

“How do I know you won’t sell us out to your little human friends the second you get a chance? If I’m here, I can stop you. Plus, what if you do something to Logan while we’re not here to protect him? No, no, I’m staying right where I am and you can’t make me leave.” His spines ripple; Thomas steps closer to a whiteboard in case he needs to duck.

“I’m not going to do that, and I don’t want you to stab me.”

“Still! I’m staying here! Also, Dad’s bigger than me, and he’s a better hunter cause he’s faster and he’s been hunting longer.

“Does he need something to help him carry all those fish?” Thomas asks. Roman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something snarky, pauses, and stops.

“I . . . usually we just eat what we catch when we catch it. We make a pile of prey and take turns guarding it while the other two hunt. Then we make a sacrifice to the Seven Mother Goddesses and eat what’s left.”

After some debate, Thomas is able to fashion a sling of sorts from some waterproof tarps and leftover anchor rope to tie around Patton’s body. “You can put the fish in this pouch and carry them back here. Will you be able to navigate your way back to the grotto?”

“He will,” Roman says. “Dad knows more about the ocean than any human possibly could.” Another discordant song from the tank, chastising, and Roman huffs. “Dad wants me to reassure you that he’ll be fine.”

Patton settles into the mobile tank easily, and Thomas gets him down to the grotto leading towards the sea. “When you come back, let out one of your pod calls and Virgil or I will come and collect you and your catch. Take as much time as you need, okay?”

Patton reaches up and gently pats Thomas’s arm with one large, damp hand, and Thomas takes that to mean an agreement. “Alright, off you go.” There’s a whoosh and a rush of water as it flows from the tank into the grotto in a clean arc, carrying Patton with it. Thomas waits for a moment, letting Patton disappear into the open ocean, before returning to the laboratory.

Roman, for the most part, ignores Thomas. He asks the occasional question, which Thomas tries to answer in a way that he’ll understand, and leans over the edge of his touch tank, eyes guarded. Every time Thomas sneaks a glance, when he thinks Roman isn’t looking, his expression is wide-eyed and wondrous, like Logan’s usually are, but the moment he realizes Thomas is watching him his entire face closes up like a clamshell.

Thomas wonders what it’ll take to get Roman to trust him, trust Virgil, trust any human. Granted, he doesn’t know Roman’s history with humans, but he and Patton are both fairly scarred, and Thomas might not know the whole story but he’d bet a not-insignificant amount of his monthly income that the giant starburst scar taking up the majority of Patton’s chest isn’t the result of a clash with a marine creature.

He works quietly, fielding the occasional question, keeping one ear on the grotto tunnel for Patton’s return. He’s not sure how long he expected Patton to be gone, but he hears movement in the grotto tunnel far sooner than he’d expected.

“Thomas, what’s -”

“Shhhh,” Thomas says. He stands up, pushing away from his desk, but before he can say anything else, there’s a flood of movement coming from the tunnel. Bodies pour into the lab, swift and strong and carrying weapons that they immediately train on Thomas and Roman.

“What is this?” Roman snaps, bristling. He sounds betrayed, like he thinks Thomas is behind this. Thomas picks up a heavy glass beaker, fully prepared to shatter it upside someone’s skull if necessary, but something heavy and hard strikes the back of his skull and he feels his knees crumple. Roman cries out, and Thomas struggles to push himself up. A hand fists itself in his hair and yanks him upright, sharply. Thomas exhales sharply through his teeth, but before he can start struggling, something cool and round rests against the back of his neck, shutting him up and shutting his brain down.

Roman is puffed up like a hedgehog, apparently fully prepared to defend Thomas despite his strong and inherent mistrust. Before he can begin to attack, Thomas hears the click-click-click of shoes on the hard stone floor. Whoever’s holding his head yanks him back again, and he is forced to watch as a woman walks into his laboratory.

(It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke - a sick, horrible, twisted joke.)

She has black heels, black tights, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer, and a blood-red blouse. Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, pulled so taut it must hurt, and is held in place with a pitch black stick. She carries a - clipboard? tablet? Unclear - held against her chest, and there’s a sleek silver weapon in her right hand.

“The one from the video?” she asks.

“Affirmative, ma’am,” says the person holding Thomas’s head. The woman nods, lifting her weapon, and fires at Roman. Thomas tries to scream a warning, earning himself another painful yank from his captor, but the projectile lodges itself in Roman’s shoulder anyway.

It isn’t a bullet, but something that looks like a small syringe. Roman swats it out of his shoulder, swaying a little, but it doesn’t stop him from swiping at the - mercenary, they must be - who tries to grab him with his elbow spines. The woman frowns, lifts the weapon - some kind of tranquilizer gun? - and fires again.

Roman screams, inhuman and animal, and tears the newest dart from his arm, throwing himself out of his tank and clinging to the nearest mercenary. His teeth tear into the man’s shoulder, spines piercing through his camouflage clothing and flooding him with neurotoxin. The man collapses against the concrete, alive but unconscious, and Roman snarls at the next man as though daring him to approach. He sways, weakened but awake, and bares his teeth.

“Of course,” the woman says, tapping something on her tablet. “His naturally produced neurotoxin must be providing him with some level of natural resistance. Unexpected, but not a limitation.”

It takes three more tranquilizer darts before Roman finally slumps down into his tank, unconscious. The mercenaries look hesitant to approach him, but the woman reaches for her tablet and they scramble to action at once.

“No - no, stop, let him go, he’s not an animal for you to cart off to your lab -” Thomas starts. The man holding him knees him sharply in the back and he cries out, coughing.

They wrap Roman in thick leather bands, roughly shoving his spines flat and binding them against his skin so that he can’t attack them again. The woman nods, once, short and sharp, and they drag Roman away, letting his head bang mercilessly on the ground. Thomas catches a glimpse of a logo - emblazoned on the back of the jackets, on the back of the woman’s tablet, on the side of her tranquilizer gun - and commits it to memory. He’s going to need it, if he gets out of here alive.

“- your phone,” the woman says, and oh, when did she get in front of him.

“My what?”

His mouth runs dry as she places the tranquilizer gun under his chin, barrel pressing against his throat, and tips his chin up. “I said, give me your phone.”

Thomas blinks. “My - the desk. It’s on the desk.”

She sets her tablet down, picks up his phone, and shoves it in his face. “Open it.”

“I - wh -”

“Unlock your phone, Dr. Sanders. Must I repeat myself a third time?” She rolls her eyes. “Doctorates are wasted on people like you.”

Thomas numbly punches in his passcode, and she swipes through to his messages app, frowning before turning the screen towards his face to reveal a message thread with Virgil. “Is this your assistant?”

Thomas glares at her, he’s not going to give her what she wants, he’s not going to just give her Virgil but then the - gun, it must be a gun, what else would they be holding against his neck like this - pushes into him harder, and it’s probably bruising, and he can’t get himself killed here because then he definitely won’t be able to take care of Virgil and -

“Yes,” Thomas says, hating himself for giving in so easily. “What do you -”

She turns away from him, nails clicking against his phone screen as she sends a text message - to Virgil, presumably, and that makes his heart sink like a stone - before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it to shatter it. “I have a message for you.”

“A - what?”

“Did they really hit you that hard, or were you this stupid before we came here?” she says coldly, picking up the tablet again and tapping at the screen. Thomas groans as the man yanks him to his feet, shoving him onto his chair and pulling a roll of duct tape out of one of his multiple pants pockets. He tapes Thomas’s wrists and ankles to the chair, keeping his weapon trained on Thomas’s temple at all times, before pressing it roughly against his head and gripping his hair again.

The woman sets the tablet on his lab table, and the screen flickers to life, and then there’s a woman in front of a dark black backdrop, smiling at him like a cat who’s caught a canary. “Thomas Sanders. How long I’ve waited for this day.”

Thomas recognizes her. He knows he recognizes her. She used to be his classmate, before . . .

His head hurts, so badly that he can barely keep his eyes open, and the memory slips away. “You . . . why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I am a real scientist, unlike you. You refuse to do what is necessary, what must be done for the progression of the species. The sacrifice of some worthless animals is necessary for humanity to reach its zenith. You would really hinder the entire human race for the preservation of lower life forms?”

“Wh - I -”

“You think that ‘preserving the ecosystem’ and ‘keeping animals alive’ makes you a good scientist, but it makes you weak. You are weak, Thomas Sanders, and if the world was left in the hands of people like you, the human race as we know it would die out in a few centuries. Fortunately, there are people like me, who understand what must be done.”

“Caring about other people and things - it doesn’t - it doesn’t make you weak,” Thomas says, chest heaving, and the woman just laughs.

“One of many logical fallacies to which you subscribe, Thomas. They really gave you a doctorate? Of course caring makes you weak. All emotions make you weak. They corrupt your data and make your experiments worthless. You must be ruthless. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to pursue your goals and achieve the height of success. But no.” She rolls her eyes, face hardening, twirling a pen in her fingers. “You insist on ethics and principles and letting emotions cloud your judgement, and that makes you a failure as a scientist. It makes you weak. Your attachments will be your downfall.”

Thomas’s eyes slide shut, head pounding, and the man behind him yanks at his hair so sharply that he knows some has been ripped out. He forces his eyes open in time to see a smile slide across the woman’s face like a knife, teeth gleaming white as sun-bleached bone.

“You won’t - get away with this,” Thomas manages. He grinds his teeth together and curls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself awake. “If you leave me alive -” Thomas, stop talking, why are you reminding her that she has the option to fucking kill you “- I will not rest until I find you. I’ll - you can’t -”

“You’ll what, Thomas? If you call the police, you’ll expose those creatures you’re so intent on protecting to the world. Are you really willing to take that chance?” Before Thomas can even begin formulating a response, she steamrolls him. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were, I’m going to take some . . . insurance, shall we say.”

“Why not just kill me?” Thomas spits. Excellent idea, Doc, poke the murderous lady with a stick like a god damn hornet’s nest, the tiny Virgil in his brain hisses. Her smile, somehow, only widens, and that’s . . . that can’t be good, can it? Smiles are supposed to be good! They’re supposed to make you happy, but all Thomas feels is creeping dread and pain, so much pain, and -

Yeah. He’s . . . pretty sure he has a concussion.

“Because if I kill you, you get to take the easy way out. Your suffering will end. But unlike you, I don’t put limits on my science. I know how to cause you the maximum amount of pain.”

Thomas eyes the toxin gun, but the on-screen woman just laughs. “Not yet, Thomas. We need something from you, first.”

“You already took Roman,” Thomas says. “What more can you possibly take from me?”

“You named it? You’re even weaker than I thought.”

“He told me his name, he’s not an it, he’s not a thing for you to play with and - and I -”

There’s a strange sinking feeling in Thomas’s chest as the woman onscreen laughs. “I knew you were emotional, Thomas, but I can’t believe this! It looks like I’ll have more hanging over your head than you thought.”

“You -”

“Say, Tommy-boy, have you heard from your precious little assistant recently?”

Thomas’s entire body flushes ice-cold and then white-hot, immediately struggling against his duct tape bindings despite the man tearing at his hair and shoving the gun into his neck and snapping at him to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up before I do something we’re both gonna regret -

“Don’t you touch him!” Thomas snaps. “If you hurt him, I swear to God -”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands, and if you don’t calm down, I’ll paint your boring little lab bright red.” Thomas freezes, holding his entire body tensed like electricity is running through his blood.

There are footsteps on the stairs. “Doc? I got your text, what’s -”

“Virgil, run!” Thomas chokes. Virgil comes around the corner, holding his phone, staring at the screen in confusion. He looks up, eyes widening in horror as he takes in the scene.

“You know what to do,” the woman onscreen says. The other woman lifts her tranquilizer gun, and Thomas is sure that he’s screaming, his mouth is open and sound is coming out but his blood is rushing through his ears and his heart is pounding like waves against a boat in rough sea and he can’t - he can’t -

Virgil turns to run, but the tranquilizer dart hits in him the back of the neck and he collapses like a sack of bricks. The woman lowers her gun and jerks her head at the two remaining conscious, unoccupied mercenaries, who step forward and grab Virgil.

“Let him go!” Thomas screams, and his throat feels raw and his chest feels raw and his wrists are rubbed raw and his soul feels hollow and raw, like he’s been scraped out with a jagged piece of metal and only an empty shell remains. Virgil’s head lolls against his chest as they drag him down the grotto tunnel, and Thomas struggles and screams and stares after them until Virgil is out of sight.

His face is damp, and his eyes are burning, and he isn’t sure if it’s blood from his head wound or tears or some strange, morbid mixture of both.

“The greatest torture of which I can conceive,” the woman onscreen says, and it takes him a moment to realize that oh, she’s talking to me, “is to leave you alive, knowing that your precious little protégé is with me, and that there is nothing you can do about it.” She leans forward, and any trace of a smile is gone. “If you try to come after me, I will kill him. If you call the authorities, I will kill him. I already found you, Thomas. Don’t think I’m not watching. If I catch so much as a whiff of you planning something, his blood will be on your hands. Do you understand me?”

Thomas, numb and shocked, can’t even respond. “Knock him out and bring the specimens back to me,” the woman onscreen says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He doesn’t even feel the tranquilizer dart hit his neck, but he welcomes the sweeping darkness.

(Summary: Evil Scientist Lady has been spying on Thomas and she finds the entrance to the grotto where our mer friends have been hiding. She sends her assistant and several armed thugs to invade the lab, they drug Roman with tranquilizers and kidnap him. Thomas gets knocked around a lot and is mocked for being an ethical scientist and caring about people by Evil Scientist Lady and she gloats at him through Evil Facetime before kidnapping Virgil in the same way they did Roman, knocking Thomas unconscious, and leaving him tied to his lab chair. During this whole scene, Patton is out in the open ocean hunting and Logan is safely hidden in Virgil's room.)

[bleachhaven]

Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) — Part 4/6

Author’s Note:

As planned, here is the 4th installment of how the reader romances the Soutaicho...which I have to admit I have so much fun writing and feel so grateful that you guys showed this fic so much love! Thank you!

–

Read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 first!

She was quite hungover and tired from Yadomaru Taicho’s Valentine’s Day party. It didn’t seem fair that everyone had to go to work the day after, but it was what it was. She should have known better than to go to a party that was renowned to go on late into the night. 

But then again, there was no way she would have let herself miss it for any reason.

Of all the years Yadomaru Taicho has held the infamous Valentine’s Day party at the 8th Division, Shunsui had never failed to show up. Before he became the Soutaicho, every occasion was an occasion to hold some elaborate event despite Ise-san’s adamant objections. It was a chance for every shinigami to mingle regardless of rank or division. Yadomaru Taicho carried on with most of those traditions holding celebrations and what not, but as the Soutaicho, Shunsui didn’t attend them all. She supposed he couldn’t attend them all. Not with all the responsibilities he got going on. Besides he had a reputation to maintain. The Shunsui she used to know -- from afar of course, but observation combined with longing can reveal much -- didn’t care about inconsequential things like reputation but as the Soutaicho, it was all so different.

Still the Valentine’s Day party at the 8th was an exception. Even Ise-san attended without fail. 

And it was that one opportunity, she would get to see Shunsui outside of his role in the Gotei 13. All she usually gets would be sneak peeks into his office whenever she went to the 1st to pick up and deliver paperwork, or seeing him in passing in the seireitei. It was a treat to see him lighthearted, smiling easier, and simply just enjoying himself. She never would have missed it. Not for anything in the world

Of course, one cup of sake had turned into two, which turned into much more. The 6th Division’s Kuchki Taicho had provided the sake from his manor and it was simply just too good to resist. She had thought she was watching over Kiyone and Sentaro, making sure they didn’t fight over something creating a drunken mess, but she had ended up getting drunk with them instead. And now she was regretting it. The persistent headache was making an appearance this morning.

Still...she remembered the moment he had walked into the room, looking as handsome as ever in his pink haori. She had sighed involuntarily, making Kiyone giggle.

“You’ve got it bad,” she had teased. Pretending not to know what that meant was the easiest way to deal with Kiyone’s teasing remarks. 

Except it was not a secret amongst the higher ranks of the 13th. Apparently everyone knew about her little -- more like massive -- crush on the Soutaicho. She suspected even her Taicho knew, though nothing was explicitly mentioned.

After the customary greetings with the other Taichos present, Shunsui had gone to tease Yadomaru Taicho and Ise fuktaicho who seemed to be in an argument over how the latter was failing to experiment in her dating life. 

The way his throat bobbed with every sip of sake had her mouth going a bit dry. The way he bit into the handmade chocolate made by her for the party made her think of those lips on her...and the chocolate she had snuck into his office to leave behind as a special gift. She hoped he liked them. She longed to feel him smile at her the way he smiled at everyone else, but it also terrified her that if he actually did, she might swoon. 

Saying she got it bad might actually be an understatement, honestly!

All the pining and sighing had her parched, so she sidled up to the refreshment table for some lemonade which had also been provided by the 13th, made carefully under her own watchful eyes. She was just reaching for a glass when a familiar voice called out her name over the din of the music.

“_____-san.”

It was Shunsui himself, and she was shocked to realize he actually remembered her name! Startled, the glass almost slipped from her hands. He probably thought she was the clumsiest shinigami in existence and she bit back a groan.

“Sh...Soutaicho!”

“I’m always startling you aren’t I?” he said chuckling. “Bad habit of being too quiet. I end up unintentionally sneaking up on people.” Then as if they were friends or something, he reached out to take the glass from her shaking hands. “I was going to ask you to pour me a glass as well, but considering how I have frightened you, maybe I should do the pouring for the both of us.”

He was smiling at her, and pouring lemonade for her. She wasn’t going to read too much into it but her heart was beating so fast, she feared she might faint.

“Thank you,” she whispered with a soft smile when he handed her a glass. She couldn’t drink it without fearing she might choke on it so she watched him sip his own lemonade instead.

“Ah…” he said. “As delicious as I remember it. You all at the 13th sure know how to make lemonade!”

“Thank you,” you repeated. He might think those were the only words she knew at the rate this was going. If she continued to be tongue-tied in his presence, however would anything become of this silly infatuation in her head?!

Fortunately, Ise fuktaicho took pity on her. “Taicho! Are you harassing poor _____-san?” she demanded.

The statement had her sputtering. Shunsui had such a wounded look on his face. She hastened to deny. “No! Absolutely not!” she declared, and he offered her a sweet smile of appreciation. “Soutaicho was just telling me how much he liked the lemonade from the 13th, Ise-san.”

“Ah,” Ise-san said, a bit of a twinkle in her eye. “Did you know, Taicho? _____-san makes the lemonade herself. That’s probably why you smell like lemonade all the time too when you deliver paperwork in the evening,” she teased. “She also made these delicious chocolates!” she continued. “Did you try one, Taicho?”

Before Shunsui could reply to any of it, Yadomaru Taicho came to drag them both for a dance, and Ise-san went protesting the entire way. 

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or feel sad that their time together was cut short. It was the most time she had gotten to spend with Shunsui like that. And she couldn’t believe he remembered her name!

It just might have been the best night she’s ever had. Even if walking into the office in the 13th Division this morning with a pounding headache was not ideal, she walked with a spring in her step and a smile on her face that she just couldn’t seem to get rid of.

She collected the approved paperwork sent in from the 1st Division that needed to be filed in the appropriate places, as well as the pile that she had to fill out and send out soon. With the mindset she was in today, doing any serious form filling would be ill-advised, so she left it for the end of the day. She imagined she would feel much better after lunch if she continued to hydrate and take it slow.

 So she started sorting through the paperwork that needed to be filed. She’d done it so often she could do it effortlessly and mindlessly. Which was why she held the lavender paper in her hands for five full minutes trying to decide where it should go in the filing system before she actually thought to read it.

Dear Secret Admirer,

Had I been anyone but who I was, perhaps you might have flirted with me in person, though I do love your letters showing up at the most random places. With your pretty words and ardent gifts you’ve dared to try and seduce me. If I say that maybe you have indeed succeeded, would you stop hiding from me?

Writing this letter feels futile. Who would I even send it to when I have no idea who you are?

But it feels wrong somehow to be romanced so thoroughly and not be given even the opportunity to return the same.

I wonder, sometimes in my darkest moments, if this is nothing but an elaborate prank but I wish

...and the letter ended there abruptly. It remained unfinished. What did he wish for?

She held the piece of lavender paper to her chest, trying to fathom what had just happened. Unless someone else in seireitei was sending secret love letters to  someone in the 1st Division, which seemed highly unlikely, this was clearly written by Shunsui...to her! And somehow it had been “accidentally” left in the pile of paperwork that someone somehow knew would end up in her hands.

Her heart was beating so fast, she feared it might beat right out of her chest.

This could be from Shunsui himself...but the more likely scenario was that someone had found out about what she had done. Someone actually knew she was sending all these salacious and inappropriate love letters to the goddamn Soutaicho of the Gotei 13 himself and...and…

Oh she didn’t know what to do!

She was on the verge of a terrible panic attack, her breathing coming faster and faster. She felt like she couldn’t take enough air in.

But what if it was actually from Shunsui? Could she ignore the words in this scrap of lavender paper?

If I say that maybe you have indeed succeeded, would you stop hiding from me? The words reverberated in her head. What if he actually meant that?

No, no. That couldn’t be true. Shunsui couldn’t know. She had been so freaking careful. And even if he did, he couldn’t know it was her specifically. His letter itself said so. He probably loved the idea of it...the romance of it. It couldn’t be anything more. 

All her internalized insecurities raised their ugly heads. If he knew who exactly she was, he wouldn’t spare two glances her way.

So maybe this was just an accident. Or maybe it was a warning. 

Whatever it was...all she knew was that she had to stop sending these love letters to him. She had to stop before it all exploded in her face causing trouble for everyone involved.

__

Read Part 5 next!

__

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[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 8

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

His brothers would always know whenever he went to see her as he’d always come back with a content smile on his face. Deep down, he wished that Y/N could’ve met Cynthia. They would have made great friends as they were the only 2 people who could make him smile like this. Mammon may not have been able to save Y/N, but he swore that he would protect Cynthia, no matter the cost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 8 - The Great Pancake Debate (2261 words)

It’s been almost 6 months since you arrived in the Celestial Realm. Needless to say, you are quite certain that these last 6 months have been the craziest and stressful months of your life! When you told Simeon and Luke about you staying here, to say they were ecstatic would be an understatement. Luke jumped for joy and wouldn’t stop rambling about all the fun you were going to have. When you told them about God appointing them to help teach you about the Realm, Luke practically did a double take and it took an hour to calm him. Now you have Simeon teaching you about politics and Luke about how to use your wings and powers. On your second day there, Michael woke you up, or well came to get you as you didn’t get any sleep. Turns out, while the Devildom is constant at night, the Celestial realm is constant day and thanks to the floor to ceiling windows, there was no way for you to stop sunlight from coming in. You were introduced to the council at breakfast. Note to self, the brothers breakfasts are QUIET AND PEACEFUL compared to Archangels off duty. The first thing you saw were 2 angels passionately arguing over which pancake topping was the best, strawberries or blueberries. At some point a third angel cut in claiming chocolate chips were the best and all heaven (would you replace hell with heaven here? idk) broke loose. As for me, I just started chuckling in disbelief while making my way over to pick up a pancake of my own when the angel arguing on behalf of the strawberries saw you.

“Hey kid, what topping do you prefer, strawberries, blueberries, or chocolate chips? It’s strawberries right?”

“Actually, I prefer them plain with maple syrup. Although if Satan was the one making it, I’d go for the one with poison berries. Contrary to their name, they’re not actually poisonous and quite sweet.” All the angels present looked at me with a mix of shock and disbelief, save for Michael who just sat there eating his breakfast hoping to leave soon and get to work.

“Kid, did you say Satan?” The angel arguing on behalf of blueberries asked. “Yeah… Blond hair, teal eyes, Avatar of Wrath, Luci’s son? Ring a bell?” Turning to Michael, blueberry angel asked,

“Micheal, who are they and why are they wearing Lucifer’s old get up?” “This is Y/N. They will be staying here and taking Samael’s spot on the council until their agreement with Father ends and they return to the Devildom. Father has asked us to teach them about how our Realm operates and how to successfully fulfill Samael’s former position flawlessly, unless they want to return now and leave heaven early?” Michael turned towards you with a smirk on his face as he asked the last part.

“Very funny Mike. You and I both know I won’t do that no matter how bad you want me to.”

“What did I say about calling me that?!” Micheal’s smirk turned into something short of a snarl.

“Well, if you won’t take me seriously, neither will I. You want me to call you by your name, earn it and stop being an butt… I meant an butt… Why can’t I swear?!”

“This is the Celestial Realm Y/N. Angels don’t swear.” Michael said smugly over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“God Dang it! Argh! Fudge!. Dang it! Ya know what, forget it, my entire mood is ruined. Thanks Michael!”

“Anytime.”

Shooting Michael one last glare, I sighed and turned to the rest of the baffled angels in the room.

“Yes, what Michael said is true. Stuff happened in the Devildom which I will not get in too-”

“The demon king made Samael kill them.”

“Ok, Mike, first off, he didn’t, I ordered him too, second, I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about it. What gives you the right to tell them huh?”

“I felt like it.”

“You son of a beach.” I turned back to the rest of the angels. “Not a word about it. Anyway, due to some personal issues, I made a deal with Father to stay here on the condition that I take over Lucifer’s spot on the council until he either kicks me out or until our agreement has ended.”

“If I may, when will this agreement of yours be over?” The blueberry angel asked.

“I will be returning to the Devildom once Lord Diavolo has been crowned king and his father is 100% out of the picture. Now if you don’t mind me asking, could you introduce yourselves?” “Oh how rude of us, I’m sorry, I am Gabriel.” Gabriel had chestnut brown medium length hair, reaching shoulders. His eyes were a dull green. He wore a white turtleneck and had a light green shawl with golden tassels. He pointed to the strawberry angel. “This is Raphael and he’s Uriel.” He pointed to the chocolate chip angel. Raphael had long reddish-orange hair put up in a high ponytail. His eyes were a stormy gray. He wore a simple light gray half sleeve with an off the shoulder white cape and little decor. Uriel had short gray hair and golden eyes that almost seemed to sparkle. He wore something that reminded you of an off white scholar's robe with gray accents. “These are Saraqael, and Raguel.” He pointed to 2 of the quieter angels who didn’t participate in “the great pancake debate”. “We make up the Archangel council and we’re happy to have you Y/N.” Gabriel finished off with a smile. You were just barely able to make out a little “Not all of us” from Michael. You decided to ignore it, and then, like all the decisions you’ve ever made, it was the wrong one. Sitting back down you asked,

“So, quick question. What started The Great Pancake Topping debate?”

.

.

.

.

Breakfast ended 2 hours later with upset angels, and pancakes, everywhere…

In the Devildom. After they lost Y/N

Levi went straight to his room as soon as they got home. As soon as he closed and locked the door he went straight to Henry’s fishbowl, picked it up and sat in his bathtub, hugging the bowl as he cried. ‘Why do I feel like this?! I only like 2D characters and Ruri-chan, not 3D people. How do I miss them?... Why did they leave me? They were my player 2.’ “Well it makes sense, no one would want to stay with a worthless shut in of an otaku like me” he said to the empty room. Henry 2.0 glubbed a bubble in response. “You wouldn’t leave me, would you Henry?” *Glub* “No you wouldn’t… I miss them.” Levi stayed in his tub hugging Henry 2.0 until he fell asleep.

Present

It was another late night, Levi was bingeing a new anime ‘I fell in love with a 3D girl but I’m afraid she’ll leave me after finding out that I’m an otaku who rarely leaves their room’ . He was halfway through the 9th episode when he got a notification from Mononoke Island. One of his raid mates was stuck and needed some help. He paused his marathon to help his fellow mate and stayed up until the early hours of the morning switching between playing Mononoke and watching his anime. Stumbling into the dining room for breakfast the next morning, he was met with complete silence. Lucifer had left early, Belphie was asleep, Beel was too absorbed in eating, Satan in his book and Asmo on his phone to even notice him enter the room. Mammon was busy in the human world helping out sone witches. Levi sat down in his normal spot, taking whatever was left as he mentally prepared himself for the day. As soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day at RAD, still dressed in his uniform, Levi left as quickly as he could. There was an anime expo happening in the human realm right now and there was some ultra-rare limited edition Ruri-chan merch being sold there. He had gotten Lucifer’s permission to attend the expo so long as he was back by 11. Existing the portal and making his way to the expo, Levi thought about the last expo he attended with Y/N. They cosplayed as Erin and Levi from Attack on Titan and spent the entire day surrounded by fellow anime nerds. They had also booked a room at a nearby hotel. It was 3 days of bonding time for them. Entering the expo, Levi decided he would get something for them as decor for their headstone put in memory of them in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. Nearing the line for Ruri-chan merch, Levi noticed someone staring intensely at him. He decided to ignore them but keep a loose eye on them, just in case. He got to the front of the line and purchased 4 of the Ruri-chan collection kits. One for use, one for display, one to keep and sell in the future, and one for Y/N. He decided to wander around a little more to see if anything else would catch his eye while he was here. He spotted a Black Butler station and remembered the jokes he and Y/N would crack about Barbatos and Sebastian. He passed a Fate/Stay Night stand and remembered their conversations on which heroic class they would belong to. Levi would have been the perfect Lancer. He passed countless other stalls, each of them holding a memory he made with Y/N. Distracted by his trip down memory lane, Levi forgot all about the person stalking him. He went and purchased some dinner from one of the stalls before sitting down and pulling out his DDD and looked at some pictures of Y/N and him at their last expo. He didn’t look up from his phone until he felt someone sit opposite of him. Levi looked up to see some middle aged man just sitting there on his phone. He didn’t have any food, merch, or even look like someone interested in an anime expo. Feeling an uncomfortable aura emitting from this man, Levi got up and left. He took a quick look over his shoulder and saw that the man wasn’t following him. He left the expo and went down an alleyway to open up a portal back to the Devildom when he accidentally bumped into someone dropping his purchases.

“S-sorry”

“That’s quite alright.” The stranger extended a hand out to let him up. “Say, I’d love to know where you got your uniform from. No schools around here have uniforms like that one.”

Looking up, Levi saw the same man that was watching him with a twisted smile. Masking his fear, he mumbled an excuse about being in a rush and tried to dash around him. Before he could get 2 steps down the alley, the man grabbed him and pushed him further into the alleyway. Levi’s head struck the wall hard leaving him dazed for a moment.

“I didn’t think my intel about finding a RAD attendee at the expo would be true but whaddya know? Seems I caught myself a demon.”

Levi, now more aware of his surroundings, realized he was cornered by a demon hunter. Despite being in an alleyway, there were too many people around for him to do anything rash. Without missing a beat, the hunter pulled out an enchanted dagger aiming straight for Leviathan’s heart. Levi rolled and dogged last minute before colliding into someone’s chest. That person in question wrapped his arms around Levi’s chest and put their own dagger to his throat.

“I know you’re there! Come on out and I might spare your friend's life!” The hunter holding Levi yelled. When no one stepped out, the dagger held by Levi’s neck began pushing on his skin. Levi felt a flare of pain and against his better judgement, transformed. His tail wrapped around hunter 2’s leg and flipped him over while the first hunter charged at him, only to be blown to the ground as a powerful gust of wind knocked him over.

“Jeez Levi, you’re lucky I was here. Seriously, why didn’t ya do somethin’ earlier? Maybe then I wouldn’t have ta save yo ass.” Mammon stepped out from the darkness with a bored look on his face.

“Come on, Lucifer’s waiting for ya back home. LOOK OUT!” Levi turned around just in time to see Hunter number 2 taking a swing at his neck and managed to duck just in time. Mammon then charged over punching the hunter square in the face, knocking him out cold.

“T-thanks M-mammon.”

“No problem. Come on, let’s get ya back home before any more of them show up.”

Stepping through the portal, a question plagued Levi’s mind.

“Mammon, how did you know I was in trouble?”

“Some witches summoned me. I overheard them talk about some hunter group getting a tip about a possible demon being at some expo. Then I realized that it was the same one you were going to, so I decided to go there myself to make sure ya weren’t followed. I’m glad I did too.”

“Th-thank you Mammon. Really.”

“Of course, what are big brothers for. Anyway, about my payment, maybe you can forget about the money I owe ya?”

Groaning, Levi started walking faster, leaving Mammon and his whining behind as he made his way back to the safety of his room.

[fortisfiliae]

Promised Part 16 - Tom Riddle x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage, physical fights, mentions of  torture (brief), blood and violence, character death. Read with care!

Word count: 4k

Part 16 - 30th June 1945

The N.E.W.T.s had gone by so quickly, it felt like all the preparations, all those years in Hogwarts and all the worries they had brought you, had been of utmost exaggeration. Of course, they had been challenging, but what the Professors had said about them in advance, how hard and draining they would be, how nervous every student had been, made it even more curious afterwards. It had only taken a few days after all. Some days of your life, which would most likely be forgotten in a few years. Just like any other week. And all that fuss for that? Well, at least they were over.

Tom, Camille and you had passed most classes with the highest grades. Freda had gotten some outstanding grades as well and even Avery and Lestrange had qualified, if only barely. The final evening in the Great Hall was filled with a strange kind of melancholy for the students of year seven. You had done it, all of you. Seven years in Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. It was like your first year had only gone by moments ago, you could practically still feel the sorting hat sitting on top of your head. But alas, all good things come to an end.

Final points were given to all of the houses and, to most people’s surprise, Hufflepuff won the cup. Everyone knew headmaster Dippet favoured Slytherin and Tom and Freda had surely given their own house a few extra points here and there, but Avery and Lestrange’s robbery from Slughorn had cost Slytherin too many points to recover from. All Hufflepuffs were overwhelmed with joy and Ben even ran over from the Gryffindor table to kiss Camille on the cheek while she celebrated.

Walking through the halls one last time was strange, you couldn’t fathom that you would leave the castle ultimately. It really had grown to be everyone’s second home and it would always remain so in your heart. Sadly, there wasn’t a lot of time for grief, as the antidote for Mors Grano was finally ready and waited to be filled into a flask to be used the following day. Tomorrow, June 30th would be your wedding day. A day you had dreaded but still couldn’t wait for. A day that was about to change everything.

And there you were. In an old chapel north of Ramsbury, a small muggle town, where no one knew who you were. The Gaunts had chosen the place themselves and had only told your family where to go the day of, most likely to make sure you couldn’t plan to mess with them. 

The chapel was dull, as was everything else there. No guests, not even a priest or a registrar to wed the two of you. Marvolo had told you that he was to do it himself. The place was so small, it wouldn’t have even fit a lot of guests, but you still wished that at least Camille could have been there to witness. And so, with a heavy heart, you stood in the tiny side room, where Mother’s wedding dress waited to be put on, while Elsie, your parents and the Gaunts waited in the chapel.

“Alright?” Tom asked as he fixed his tie in front of the mirror. 

You watched him as you went over towards the dress, your fingers brushing over the silk skirt. He looked great in his tailored black suit, white shirt and dark green tie, there was no way of denying it. Freda Morris would have been just as green with envy if she had seen him, but yet, not everything was about looks. 

“I’m alright,” you said and took another look at the dress. “I have to change now. Put this thing on.”

“I’ll give you some privacy in a minute,” he mentioned as he walked over to the desk where some things were gathered. He had put a large box there when you had arrived. “I brought someone with me.”

He pulled the top off from the box and you peaked in. “Nagini! Marvolo allowed for you to take her here?”

“He doesn’t know,” Tom shrugged. “And it would be better if it stayed that way.”

“I see,” you said as you held your hand inside the box for the snake to smell you. “Well at least I know one of my friends is here.” 

Tom wore an unreadable expression when he closed the box again, his lips thin as he nodded slightly. “Do you have the antidote with you?”

“Yes,” you answered and pulled it out from your pocket. The flask was the size of your palm, small and translucent. The potion inside shone through the glass like a silver and lilac gloss. “It’s right here.”

“Alright then,” he said. “Give it to your sister as soon as you can. I’ll wait outside with the others.”

When he closed the door behind himself you heard Marvolo nagging about what was taking so long, urging for you to hurry. The bastard made everything about himself again, even on your wedding day, which should have been the happiest day of your life. You pulled the dress off the hook vigorously, put it on and changed it here and there with your wand to make it fit better. When you went over to the mirror to look at yourself, it felt like staring at a stranger’s reflection. The dress was beautiful, but you didn’t look even close to what a happy bride should look like. Your hair and makeup had been done in a hurry, nothing was as perfect as it could have been. No traditions, no extended family or friends, not even a banquet. You didn’t know what you had expected - it was clear from the beginning that the wedding wouldn’t be anything like you had dreamed of since you were little - but it was certainly not this. Not as marginal, not as a means to an end.

Three hard knocks on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. “Are you done yet?” Marvolo’s muffled voice called. “Hurry up!”

Desperation turned into annoyance and your eyebrows furrowed even deeper. What did he want now? “I need a minute,” you answered as you opened the door only an inch. “Elsie, Mum, can you help me with my dress?”

Marvolo mumbled a few incomprehensible words while the two walked in. To hell with him, he could wait for five more minutes before he would get what he wanted. And you should get what you wanted too. Right now.

Mother looked you up and down with a smile. “You look beautiful, darling. What do you need help with?”

“Come,” you told them quietly and took Elsie by the hand, leading her to the other end of the tiny room, so that the Gaunts wouldn’t hear you. “I have to tell you something.”

The two looked at each other and then back at you, waiting for you to explain.

“I found something out a while back. Tom told me, he showed me. The curse that hit you, Elsie, it wasn’t sent by someone who wanted to attack Father. It wasn’t meant for Father at all.”

Elsie’s eyes grew wide and Mother laid her hand on your sister‘s shoulder. “What do you mean? Why would you tell us that minutes before your wedding?” Mother asked.

“Let me explain,” you went on. “Tom showed me that it was the Gaunts who sent the curse. That’s why they found a cure so quickly. And why they didn’t heal her completely.”

Mother gasped faintly, her hand wandered up to her own chest. “You mean…”

“Yes. They chose Elsie specifically so that you and Father would agree to their pact.”

“I… I can’t believe it,” Mother mumbled.

“They made me sick?” Elsie asked, her eyes as big and round as marbles. “On purpose?”

You nodded.

“But why haven’t you told us sooner?” Mother asked. “We could have-”

“I did as much as I could without attracting too much attention. Tom and I, we both assumed that the Gaunts wouldn’t even lift Elsie’s curse after the wedding. And even if they did, I wouldn’t trust them enough to let you drink anything that they would give to her again. So we brewed the antidote ourselves.”

You pulled out the flask and held it up in the air. Mother took it and inspected it for a moment. “You brewed that?”

“Yes. Elsie, take it right now. You will be healed completely then and the Gaunts won’t notice anything.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Mother asked. “And what then? What are you going to do?”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s safe. And then,” you looked at the door to the chapel and heaved a sigh. “Then I’ll get married. Stick to the plan.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Mother said as she handed Elsie the flask.

“Would you rather have her drink something that Morfin brewed up? If he would give her anything at all.”

“You’re right,” she said and shook her head.

“Quick Elsie,” you urged her. “Drink up and we’ll be ready to go.”

Elsie nodded as she pulled the cork off the flask, then put her lips around the opening and took a small gulp. She scrunched up her face into a grimace. “Tastes gross.”

“Sorry, princess. They don’t make recipes for strawberry flavoured antidotes yet. Now drink it.”

Elsie exhaled sharply, then threw her head back and let the liquid pour into her mouth. One swig, two. She had it down almost completely when suddenly the door flew open.

“Excuse me ladies, what is taking you so long?” Marvolo asked, standing in the door frame, with Morfin, Father and Tom behind him. Marvolo stared at Elsie, who was just gulping down the last drops from the flask. “What is that? What did you give her?”

The three of you froze, staring back at Marvolo and the other men. Shit.

“Just her vitamins,” you lied. “To make sure she’s well for the ceremony.”

“No, no,” Marvolo huffed as he walked in. “Give me that.” He took the flask from Elsie’s hand and brought it up to his nose. “Morfin, come here.”

Morfin entered the room as well, took a look at the empty flask and smelled it. Father and Tom took several steps in too, filling up the room almost completely. 

“Stop,” Marvolo ordered and held his hand up to Father and Tom. “I didn’t tell you to come in.” The two halted and remained standing by the door. “Now, son. What is it?”

Morfin inspected the remaining liquid inside the flask, shaking it to see the single droplets hanging inside the vial. One side of his mouth pulled up into a ghastly smirk before he spoke through gritted teeth: “Mors Grano antidote.”

Marvolo brought his hand up to his neck, fumbling on the chain that hung there. That must have been where he carried their own flask with the unfinished antidote. It was still there, which visibly confused him. He remained calm, wouldn’t dare to show that he didn’t know how you had done it, his eyes dark and full of anger.

“You little bitch,” he spat. “Morfin, take the child.”

Morfin did as he was told, quicker than any of you could have reacted and pulled Elsie to the middle of the room by the hand, then stepped behind her, one hand around her neck, his wand in his other one, pointed right at Elsie’s head.

Mother cried out when she saw what had happened to her daughter and turned to walk over to her, while Father ran towards Morfin and Elsie as well.

“Stupefy!” Marvolo called, his wand directed at Father, who fell to the ground immediately. “I told you not to step in. No one’s making a move now unless I tell them to.”

Mother fell to her knees, looking at Father unconscious on the ground and Marvolo gaped at her in disgust. “Take your husband. And shut your mouth, or you’ll be lying there with him.”

She pressed her lips shut and crawled over to Father, slowly dragged him to the corner of the room behind you, where she held his head between her hands. Silent tears ran down Elsie’s cheeks, who was still captured between Morfin’s hand and his wand. You had managed to pull out your own wand during the turmoil and looked over at Tom in the doorframe, who had done the same.

Marvolo had noticed the looks you had exchanged and heaved a bitter laugh. “You two, eh? Partners in crime. And what do you think you’re doing there, girl? With your wand out. Do you really think you can defeat me with your schoolbook magic?”

You gripped your wand tighter to prevent your hand from shaking, swallowed down thickly and frowned. There were a million things you wanted to say, thousands of curse words you could have called him, but Morfin still had Elsie between his fingers. “Don’t you underestimate me, Marvolo.”

He clicked his tongue, let his head fall back and laughed wholeheartedly. “Oh, juveniles. Graduated a day ago and think they’ll conquer the world. Well, I got some bad news for you then. But first, you’re going to tell me how you’ve found out about Mors Grano. And how you got a hold of an antidote that isn’t ours.”

You didn’t answer and only looked at Elsie, who breathed rapidly, her hands holding on to Morfin’s grip around her neck.

“I see,” Marvolo sighed and turned his head towards the door. “Tom, would you give us the honour then? Come, stand next to your fiancée.”

Tom walked over silently and placed himself next to you, his hand gripping yours.

“Oh look at that,” Marvolo feigned. “Tragically in love. Now, Tom, explain.”

Tom didn’t answer, only held your hand a bit tighter and you could feel something cold inside of it, something metallic, perhaps.

“No?” Marvolo asked. “You don’t want to tell us? Well, then we’ll have to motivate you. Morfin, go ahead.”

Morfin grinned but didn’t point his wand at Elsie anymore. Instead, he pointed it right at you. “Crucio!”

The pain that rushed through you was unbearable from the moment it had started. You fell to your knees and opened your mouth to scream, but couldn’t even hear yourself or anyone else anymore. A million knives must have pierced your body at once, and they scraped off your skin with rusty blades inch by inch, while your head hammered and stung as if a lightning bolt had struck right into it. Your vision had left you from the pain, everything around you had gone white and you only heard scraps of conversation between the all-consuming buzz that rumbled between your ears. Tom was begging them to stop, you assumed, but couldn’t concentrate on his words anymore, as the pain threatened to crack your skull.

Then, as quickly as it had started, it ended. You opened your eyes slowly, blinked a couple of times when your perception came back and felt a small hand on your cheek. Elsie kneeled above you, next to Tom.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice hoarse, while you sat up groggily.

Marvolo was still standing in his spot, looking down at Morfin, who lay on the ground, holding his leg with both hands. And attached to his thigh, was Nagini, pressing her fangs into him through his trousers.

“Nagini,” you whispered and as soon as you had said her name, the snake let go of Morfin and retracted.

“She crawled out of her box when he hit you with the curse,” Tom said quietly. “And bit him before they could have noticed.”

Tom helped to get you on your feet again and even though your knees were still weak from the Cruciatus Curse, you stood in front of Elsie, to shield her from the Gaunts.

Morfin winced in pain and still held his leg. Nagini’s venom spread quickly, Morfin’s thigh was twitching on its own.

“Father,” Morfin whined. “I need treatment. Help me get home.”

Marvolo looked down at his son, lips parted with an expression of sheer revulsion on his face. “Do you think I have time to take care of your little injuries right now? Suck it up.”

“But… But Father, I can’t feel my leg anymore,” Morfin panted. “I might die when the venom reaches my heart.”

Marvolo sighed and bumped his foot against Morfin’s hurt leg, to which his son screamed. “Then leave.”

Morfin nodded, it must have taken all of his remaining strength not to pass out, and closed his eyes before he apparated, leaving only a few drops of blood on the floor behind.

“Now back to you,” Marvolo said and looked at Tom as if nothing more than a minor inconvenience had just occurred. “Don’t you dare lie to me. You know I can kill everyone in this room within a second.”

Tom still didn’t answer and placed himself in front of Elsie and you, which made Marvolo laugh again.

“Oh, boy. You’d sacrifice yourself? For this family and not your own? I know I’ve raised you differently. You’re a disgrace.”

“You want me to tell you everything?” Tom asked. “Then let me come closer, so I can share all of my secrets.”

Marvolo remained unimpressed at the thought, there was no spell he couldn’t counter. So he rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Come as close as you want, son. But keep your wand up, where I can see it.”

And so Tom went. One step, two, three, four, until he was face to face with his grandfather. Marvolo still eyed Tom’s wand, gripping his own tightly. And then, Tom moved his other hand abruptly, jerking it toward Marvolo’s abdomen once. You couldn’t see from where you stood and only noticed when Marvolo looked down himself and opened his mouth.

“Imperio,” Tom said quietly while Marvolo fell to his knees.

Now that you could see what he had done, you put your hands in front of Elsie’s eyes, holding them closed. Marvolo was bleeding from his stomach and Tom held a bloody knife in his wandless hand.

“I’m just making sure you can’t apparate,” Tom said coldly. “Like uncle did. The coward. I want to see how you die.”

Marvolo looked up at Tom, opened his mouth but didn’t say anything, tears edging on the corners of his eyes. 

“No. You don’t get to talk now,” Tom went on. “Never again. You’re going to listen. And I’m even going to tell you what you wanted to hear. I found a way to tell her what you have done to Elsie. I stole Morfin’s book, and we brewed the antidote ourselves. Oh yes, before I forget, we also stole some Banshee tears from Morfin, while you were out. Scrook and Hokey were very helpful. I even learned some new things this year. Some of them from a muggle-born, can you believe? It got me thinking, you purebloods are so concentrated on magic, you wouldn’t even realise when I’d come up to you with a knife in my hand. And I was right. You didn’t. You see, you called me a bastard so often and reminded me that my father was a muggle. So I thought I’d remind you myself how much of a half-blood I am. Isn’t it awful dying the muggle way? So slowly, so weak.”

Marvolo laid to the side, impacted by the Imperius Curse and opened his mouth, coughing up blood, his eyes half-closed.

“And now, here we are,” Tom whispered. “You did this all to yourself. Good night, Grandfather.”

It took a while until you all had calmed yourselves. Father had woken up some minutes after Marvolo had closed his eyes completely and you had brought Elsie into the chapel, so she wouldn’t have to see the body. Tom, your parents and you hadn’t decided yet what to do with Marvolo. You had thought about leaving him there, or to apparate him to Gaunt manor, where the elves or Morfin could take care of it. If Morfin himself was still alive. 

Mother joined you in the chapel and you took the chance to get some fresh air outside. Only out in the open you noticed that you were still wearing the white dress. What scorn of fate it was to watch someone die on your wedding day. The door opened again behind you and Tom walked out. He had managed to remain composed better than anyone else there, even though he was the one who had killed somebody.

He walked up to you, looking at the ground and only lifted his head when he stood right in front of you. A warm breeze brushed over your skin as the sun was setting. “Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded. Physically you were. Your mental state was debatable. “I think I am.”

Tom dipped his head once too and loosened his tie. “Are you scared of me after what you’ve seen?” 

You looked him in the eyes, tilting your head slightly. His pupils were extended, brows sitting calmly above. “No,” you answered. “I would have done the same if I had to.”

He bit his lip and nodded, hands inside his pockets before he took them out, held you by your waist and kissed you. All the tension and stress seemed to leave your body for a moment, your shoulders finally relaxing and you wished you could hold on to him like this for an hour. Tom stayed close for a moment, pressed his forehead against yours and sighed. “So,” he said as he took a step back. “The pact is done with. Elsie is cured. You don’t have to marry me anymore.”

A surprised gasp fell from your lips. You hadn’t even thought about that yet. He was right. “I guess I don’t.”

Tom pushed the tip of his shoe through the gravel on the ground, drawing patterns. “But I wanted to know,” he said. “Would you have gone through with it if this had turned out differently? Would you have married me and stayed?”

There was a moment of silence when you thought about it. What answer could anyone give to such a question? You liked him, yes, you would even dare to say you were in love with him. But would you have really married him this quickly if you could have decided yourself?

“Would you?” you asked, to which he smirked. The wind tousled his hair, just like when you had sat with him at the bench back in the Hogwarts’ courtyard. “Why don’t you ask me? Properly I mean.”

Tom’s smirk vanished and he looked at you seriously. He took both of your hands in his, inspecting you closely. He opened his mouth but shut it again to clear his throat. Then he asked: “Do you want to marry me?”

A smile formed on your face, one that he didn’t mirror, as long as you wouldn’t answer him. “No,” you said. 

Tom’s expression didn’t change, but when you looked closely, you noticed that the size of his pupils had decreased, his brows now hanging in confusion. He still held your hands but you could feel him trembling.

“Not yet,” you added, your smile still in place. “Not like this and certainly not today. Not on Marvolo’s terms. Not without my friends and not before we really get to know each other and both decide, on our own, that we want to do it.”

You leaned forward, kissed him once and said: “So, ask me again in a year or two?”

And then, the rarest sight of them all, Tom Riddle smiling genuinely, was given to you. He looked so handsome wearing it and with the orange light from the setting sun on his face when he let your hands go and pulled you in.

“I promise I will.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

That was it, the grande finale :3 I truly hope you liked it! There’s still one more part to come, the epilogue, which will hopefully please the majority of you. I see it as a little cherry on top. Please consider leaving a comment and tell me what you think so far :) They motivate me so much to keep writing! Thank you for reading!

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[eternally-writing]

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst 

rating: PG 

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember. 

banner by me!

read part 1 here! 

 If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask! 

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type). 

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could. 

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid. 

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. 

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave. 

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan  -  except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight. 

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame. 

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean.  As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke. 

“Pilates, mmm.”  He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point. 

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk. 

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”. 

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world. 

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry 

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due. 

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner. 

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation. 

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry. 

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner. 

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch. 

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily. 

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run: 

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract. 

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class. 

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document. 

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out. 

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks. 

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively. 

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook. 

Strike 2: He’s getting close. 

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE  with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door. 

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well. 

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi. 

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth. 

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister. 

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?” 

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more. 

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin. 

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin. 

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to. 

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts. 

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face. 

All of a sudden your phone started to ring.  Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his 

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking “answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible. 

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask. 

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on. 

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him. 

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone. 

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears. 

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes. 

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook,  but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby. 

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you. 

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you. 

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him. 

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms. 

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”  

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine,  mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--♡--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with. 

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up. 

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. 

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.  

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was  He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent. 

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door. 

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there. 

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). “Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.”  You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment. 

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied. 

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him. 

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!” 

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere. 

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face. 

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement. 

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

 Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”. 

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief. 

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it. 

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face. 

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing. 

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. 

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered. 

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment. 

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation. 

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again. 

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag. 

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time. 

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N” 

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in. 

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak 

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask! 

 If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[unmaskedagain]

Remember You Young

I answered this ask because I thought it was adorable. I loved the show they wanted me to do, and I want to see who could guess it before it became obvious. Its a one-shot . 

She was being followed. At first it had been daunting when she realized it, and Marinette had done everything she could to shake them off her trail. Then she realized she was being stalked by kids. Literally kids. None older than ten or eleven at best.

           They had been terrible at hiding, rarely ever whispered, argued constantly, had the most outrageous costumes but somehow managed to keep up with Marinette’s every move... most of the time. They ran around with toy guns and pretend walky talkies.

           It either said the best thing about the kids’ skills, or the worst thing about Marinette’s.

           There was a husky boy who ran around in a blue shirt and goggles. He never took off the old pilot’s hat he wore. He was also… always eating cheese. Or candy. He liked puns that caused his friends to groan constantly.

           There was an Asian little girl who wore an adorable green sweater that was too big for her and the arms of the sweater went well past her hands. She was girly and seemed to be the sweetest of the bunch. Honestly, she was the happiest girl Marinette had ever seen in her entire life. The only time the kid had gotten upset was when she had cried when couldn’t find the stuffed animal she wanted in any of the stores. Marinette had been heartbroken for her. The bluenette didn’t know what a “Rainbow Monkey” was or why it had to be French but she was going to get it for the girl if it was the last thing she did it.

           A bald British boy seemed to be the leader as everyone took direction from him. Marinette had never seen his eyes due to the black glasses he wore. The kid seemed to believe himself to be some sort of superspy. He had a fierce take-charge attitude and barked orders like a pro and preferred to a treehouse their hung out at as headquarters. He didn’t smile often.

           A pretty black girl seemed to be the one with the most sense of the much, and the most style. She wore her hair in a long braid, a blue shirt-dress and an old red cap. The girl had a natural charisma and coolness to her that made Marinette feel awkward in comparison. She seemed to second-in-command .

           The smallest of the bunch was a blond boy with an unfortunate bowl cut and a bright orange hoody. He was loud, brash, and was the “tough guy” of the bunch. He picked a fight with nearly everyone. A fierce little guy that called Marinette a “Ruddy Teenager.”

           However all the kids seemed to dislike adults and teens to some degree. They cast suspicious glances at everyone thirteen and older no matter how nice they were. None of them ever called each other by their names, always opting to follow the rules of whatever game they were playing and called each other by numbers. And always mispronounced the word: number.

           Numbuh 1. Numbuh 2. Numbuh 3. Numbuh 4. Numbuh 5. Marinette hadn’t gotten close enough to figure out who was who but she did suspect the numbers were ranking order or anything. They were probably just random.

           After over two weeks of being stalked, Marinette still hadn’t been able to figure out what they wanted from her. Only that they didn’t know she was Ladybug. It was frustrating.

           She finally got answers one day while walking home from school when she got attacked by an evil cat lady who weaponized her pets, a deranged dentist who put braces on everyone, and a man dressed like toilet. They attempted to kidnap Marinette and raise all out heck on everyone around them. They weren’t Akumas. They were just crazy people.

           The kids fought them back. They saved the day. They saved Marinette. The villains ran with their tails between their legs.

           …Suddenly everything the kids had been doing didn’t seem like a game anymore.

           …Then the kids kidnapped Marinette. The kids jumped her, hogtied her, gagged her, and carried her back to their tree house… which Marinette now realized was way more advanced than any tree house should be. EVER.

           As soon as they got to there, and Marinette was uncharitably tossed on to the couch, the kids panicked.

“We shouldn’tve done this!” Goggles boy chimed. “We weren’t supposed to make contact. Moonbase will decommission us for sure.”

“And let the adults have her, Numbah 2,” The bald boy said. “I think not! We can never let the adults win. Its against everything the Kids Next Door stand for.”

The black girl nodded, “Numbah One’s right, we can’t let Father have what’s in her brain,” She said. “It could destroy the KND!”

“But that’s not possible, Numbah five, we all know that!” The girl in green said. “She got decommissioned. Her brain got all wishy-washy. Right, Numbah Four?”

           The blond boy huffed, “Yeah! Numbah Three’s got a point. And what’s so important about some ruddy teenager anyway? Tell you what! We should drop her artic ocean and never look back.”

           Numbah five groaned, “Are you stupid, boy? They sent Numbuh 274, I mean Chad, after her. And CREE! They wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t important. The supreme leader wouldn’tve sent us to stop them from getting her! Ya moron.”

           Marinette frowned at that. Chad, the handsome foreign exchange student that came to Marinette’s class a few weeks ago. All the girls in school thought he was so dreamy. Even Marinette, even though she had been perplexed at the sad, almost wistful looks he would shoot her when he thought he wasn’t looking. And at the stories he told about his childhood, and woud look at Marinette like he was waiting for her to jump in and finish them. Almost like he knew her. Or expected her to suddenly remember him.

           The same with Cree, a foreign exchange student in a grade above Marinette’s, but to a lesser extent than Chad. The older girl liked to make sly remarks about what being a teen meant where she came from. She cracked what seemed to be inside jokes at Marinette and looked crestfallen when it was clear the bluenette didn’t understand what she meant. Then Cree would grumble about stupid kids ruining everything.

“But WHHHHYYY?” Numbah Four whined. “We got sent a like bajillion miles away to         a city where they force kids to eat bugs and smelly cheese all to protect a teenager. A TEENAGER! And they don’t even tell us why.”

           Numbah Two frowned, “It is kind of strange. I mean we hate teenagers! They’re the worse. Why save this one?” He looked at Marinette like she was specimen in a jar.

“Because team,” Numbah One announced loudly, pausing for, what Marinette knew was, dramatic effect.  “She is Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           Gasps rang through the room. The kids reared back as if struck. Their eyes went wide and they started at Marinette in awe.

“…Or at least she used to be,” Numbah One added.

“Woah,” Numbah Four said, looking at Marinette with newfound respect.

           Numbah Two sqeauled, “This is the best day ever. You have to sign my Yipper card.” He told Marinette. “It’s an ultra-rare collectable. Only three still exists. The rest were destroyed.”

“But, but, but how?” Numbah Five asked, removing her hat. “All records of Numbah Seventy-Two was struck from the history of the KND. Only the supreme leader and her team ever knew what happened to her.”

“They pinky-swore not to tell anyone what happened!” Numbah Three added. “No one would ever break a pinky promise.”

“That’s true,” Numbah five nodded. “No kid ever would. Expecially not her team. She saved us. She saved the KND. She saved the world and made it better for kids everywhere.”

           Numbah One nodded. “Exactly. No kid would ever break the solemn oath. But do you remember just who was one her team?”

           Looks of realization appeared on the kids’ faces, and then anger.

“Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four,” Numbah Five said bitterly. “He was Number Seventy-Two’s second in command for years. And He betrayed her. Why am I not surprised?”

“But why?” Numbah Two asked. “I mean if she was still Numbah Seventy-Two I’d understand. She stopped Principle Boutface from ending summer vacation forever. She stopped Father from making Halloween adults only forever and ever. Name a bad guy, and I can guarantee she kicked their butts! And most importantly she even beat…” Numbah Two paused, clearly afraid. “well you know. She’s done loads of cool things. But She can’t remember anything. So why? Why come get her now?”

“She beat who?” Numbah Four asked. “I don’t know. Who’d she else did she beat? Why were they so important?”

           Numbah One and Five looked away. Both remembered but neither wanted to say anything.

“We were still just little babies when it happened,” Numbah Three answered seriously. “Still finishing training. We never really knew what was going on. Too little for anyone to tell us. We just knew it was bad. Kids were always scared, always hurting…”

“It was a dark time,” Numbah One agreed. “Before Father took over, there was another in charge of the evil adults in the world. But he worse than Father could’ve ever dreamed of being. Kids were scared to go to sleep. They were afraid of their closets and what was under their beds. OF every shadow. No kid would be caught out after dark. They were too scared. Nowhere was safe. No one was safe. Not from him. Not from…”

“The Boogieguy,” Numbah Five finished. “The most powerful leader the adults ever had. The strongest, most evil villain you can imagine. But Numbah Seventy-Two refused to back down. She was the only who could stand up to him. The only one to ever beat him.”

           Numbah Two nodded, “Legend says the Boogieguy had a nasty plan to open a portal to unleash meanest, nastiest monsters another world to get kids to behave better. But Numbah Seventy-Two heard and went to beat him once and for all. And she did too. She trapped him in his own trap. He’s been there ever since!”

Numbah Three added, “Numbah Seventy-Two finally defeated the Boogieguy, she locked him away in a place so scary, so terrifying not even the adults would be willing to go near it. Which it means it has to be really, really, REALLY, scary. Only she knew how to get him out. She used a super-secret password that only she knew. And then, and then she, she!” Numbah Three burst into tears.

Numbah One placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down, “To stop the Boogieguy for good, and to make sure no kid ever had to suffer his wrath again, she decommissioned herself. She was only eleven.”

“It was a hard sacrifice, but one kids everywhere will never forget,” Numbah One vowed. “And the Global KND didn’t let it be in vain. We fought back harder than ever before. Her team-”

“But, but,” Numbah Four look around, “She wasn’t even a teenager, why’d she go and do a stupid thing like that for?”

“To save us,” Numbah Five answered, and put her hat back on. She looked at Marinette with hard eyes. “To save the KND, and protect kids everywhere. Because of her, the KND finally turned the tables on adults. We weren’t scared of the dark anymore.”

“Was never the same!” Numbah Five snapped at him. “None of them were ever the same after fighting Boogieguy, after what happened to Numbah Seventy-Two. They couldn’t handle being around each other anymore. They are transferred to different teams. Their entire sector was retired. Number Three Hundred and Sixty-Two. Numbuh Sixty. My sister- Cree! Numbah Two Hundred and Seventy-Four, UGH! Look what they became. Ya don’t need to be decommissioned to not recognize them anymore.”

           It went quiet. The kids not knowing what to say. Marinette had never been so confused in her life. Had she been some sort of Spy kid? Had her memories been erased? What was going on?

           And if everything, the kids were saying was real, and Marinette decided that it was, then she was a little peeved at Chad and Cree, her old teammates apparently, for going against everything this KND had accomplished… That Marinette had apparently sacrificed herself for. And what for? To side with some evil adults?

“…The KND have figured out a way to destroy Boogieguy forever,” Numbah one said. “Unfortunately the adults have also become aware of the Boogieguy’s location and want release him. In order for either side to succeed in their mission, we need Numbah Seventy-Two.”

           All eyes turned back to Marinette.

Numbah Five cast a sad look at Numbah Seventy-Two, Marinette, “Chad and Cree will come for her.” Of that Numbah five was certain. The lone picture of ABC that sat next to Cree’s bedside nightstand was proof enough of that. It was the only thing her big sister ever kept of her KND days, apart from her memories. The only “little kid” thing she didn’t scorn. “They won’t stop until they get her. I don’t think Cree or Chad ever forgave the KND agreeing that Numbah Seventy-Two should erase her memories.”

           They never forgave themselves for letting her, Abby didn’t add.

“She was decommissioned, hello!” Numbah Two reminded them. “She can’t remember anything.”

           Number One took off his glasses and looked at the teenager who, in another life, had been everything he ever dreamed of being in the KND. She was a legend. A hero. She had, once, been the best of them all. “She will.”